Express & Star

Pete Cashmore: Whatever next...TV's Gigantic Origami War?

I don't often need any encouragement to stick the boot into our nation's terrestrial TV channel programmers.

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In fact, I consider it my birthright as an Englishman, and as long as we are expected to pay for the simple privilege of owning a TV set, while simultaneously being served up with five basic channels of almost uniform dreck (exceptions: Pointless, Planet Earth II, Match Of The Day, that's it), then I will not shy away from sticking the boot in every chance I get. I figure that I'm paying for this inalienable right.

We all know that the BBC has stopped trying when it comes to vital, innovative programming. In fact, if you were to go to Broadcasting House with THE single most revolutionary idea for a new TV show conceived this millennium, one which would change the face of the televisual medium forever, you would be asked: "Does it involve antiques, competitive arts and crafts and/or celebrity-judged talent contests?" And, if you answered in the negative, they'd be sending for security and marking you down as a troublemaker.

This week, the BBC started a series – a new series – of The Big Painting Challenge. I must confess to being blissfully unaware of previous instalments of this show, perhaps due to my subconscious selectively filtering out this type of post-Bake Off bilge. But even the most perfunctory viewings of the show's trailers reveal that TBPC is just Bake Off but with a different set of skills. Substitute pastries and buns for portraits and still lifes and IT IS EXACTLY THE SAME SHOW. One can't help but imagine BBC programmers simply working their way through a list entitled Creative Things People Do In Their Spare Time. Next up: The Gigantic Origami War. Or something.

And yet, incredibly, it's not even the most preposterously duff series returning to our screens this week – that unwanted accolade belongs to Channel 4's Coastal Walks With My Dog, another cavalcade of numbing genteelness in which a procession of woefully minor celebrities (and, to be fair to him, Bill Bailey, who can surely do better than this gubbins) go and walk their dogs by the seaside. And that's the show. When one sees such lazy piffle being given the green light and finding its way to our screens, you can't help but wonder whether the main channels are all in on some kind of elaborate hoax, or are having some kind of competition to see who can create the dullest TV franchise of all time. Both The Big Painting Challenge and Coastal Walks With My Dog are in with a genuine shout, and until Channel 5 unveils Martin Keown Stares Wordlessly At Anaglypta Wallpaper For Half An Hour as part of their autumn schedule, they may just be as bad as it gets.

Programmers on the hunt for a compelling modern cautionary tale can always do a lot worse than look to the United States for inspiration – after all, the entire nation has gone completely insane and there is a lunatic in the White House, so it's not likely to be running short on material.

One story that emerged in the States this week . . .

I won't say it tickled me as such, since it involves an alleged murder plot, and we should all be wary of chuckling at those. But it does at least illustrate the perils of modern technology and how you really, REALLY need to check every last detail before you hit the 'send' button on a text.

Everyone who has ever hit 'reply all' when they didn't mean to, or sent a text slagging someone off to the subject of the slagging by mistake, spare a thought for Jeffery Lytle, 42, currently residing in Snohomish county jail in Washington State, USA, on a $1m bond. He apparently sent a phone text to an unknown accomplice allegedly suggesting that the two of them murder Lytle's wife and split the life insurance money. Except that he apparently scrolled down to the wrong name in his phone's contact list, and sent the message (sample quote: "You remember how you said you would help me kill my wife? I'm going to take you up on that offer") to one of his former employers instead.

Understandably, said ex-boss, rather than replying with a sad-faced emoticon, decided that when one of your former workers starts talking about bumping people off, it's more than just a case for the human resources department and so alerted the police, hence Mr Lytle's current incarceration on criminal solicitation charges.

His argument that the text was not meant for a real person, and that he was just 'venting' after his latest row with his wife, sounds a tad spurious, but it should at least secure him the divorce that he clearly wants. Because if your husband is sending fake texts to imaginary hitmen and dreaming up hypothetical murder plots about you, I'd say you have pretty good grounds for 'unreasonable behaviour'.

In the week of Valentine's Day (and I'd just like to thank my army of female readers for the cards, which I'm assuming must be on their way and simply delayed while a van large enough to carry them all is found) I clearly cannot end on such a tale of marital misery. Nope, I'm going to end on dating misery instead!

I received an email in the week that tickled me, telling me about Down With Dating, possibly the most miserable singles night in the known world. Run by the Feeling Gloomy club night, which has played some of the most depressing music in the pop pantheon at events throughout Europe and the US, the annual anti-Valentine's event includes morose pop classics, 'speed hating' (in which you get one minute to discuss the things you loathe with potential partners) and other activities to underline the sheer glumness of being single on February 14.

Paradoxically, Feeling Gloomy's soirée for sad singles sounds like a right old giggle, so I'm hoping that they decide to bring their night to the Black Country soon. Because if they're looking for people who like both a good party and a right old moan, then we're the capital of the world right here.

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