Information is one of the most valuable tools of our society. It must be agreed that television is the greatest media tool in terms of both comfort and ease of access. I realise the Irony of conveying this message through an alternate medium, however the point must be made. In Ireland we have a state broadcaster- RTE. RTE provide a government funded state broadcasting network. Great! And we pay a tax for such a service. Fair enough. But there’s two problems:
1. They commercially advertise.
They force product onto to you, the consumer, to make money to fund their programmes. Now a lot of TV companies will do that, but we don’t pay Bravo, ITV, Virgin 1, TV3 and UK living €160 for the privilege. RTE get a personal donation from each household and business in the country, yet still whore themselves out to the likes of Harry Corry, Nike and Cilit Bang. Is our money not enough. How much does it take to run a tv station? Especially one who’s original programming looks like it was made on a nokia 5310 with a cast of presenters and actors who were (mis)fortunate enough to be in the dole office that day, Which brings me to my second point.
2. RTE is unashamedly Crap.
I mean really, really crap. With all the production value of a transition year project and the talent roster of a Heroin addiction support group it is a wonder the RTE brass don’t pay us to watch this nonsense. After all, state broadcasters have to follow their mandate to reflect the “climate of the Republic”. Even the news, the only thing it is very difficult to make a balls of, smacks of amateurism genetically spliced with Fianna Fail Cronyism, the catalyst for which being Anne Doyle’s Peroxide. If I’d know all I had to do was hang around in Donny and Nesbitt’s for a few weeks and I’d be offered a job as head of Current affairs, or chief Cable operator on Fair City then I’d have never bothered with the painstaking years of college being forced to go without Sky and having to spend my days with RTE’s pathetic (CHEAP) imports of terrible shows like Dr. Phil, Shortland Street and re-re-re-re-repeats of Murder She wrote (although it was great the first 3 times).
I don’t watch RTE. Ever. Not even sport. Why would I pay to see alcoholics make fools of themselves. I can get the drunk around the corner to dance for two cigarettes and a can of Lynden village. But I still have to pay a licence. It kills me. Id rather go through childbirth, while having Marty Whelan’s face tattooed on my scrotum, drinking domestos and trying to have semi-consensual sex with a porcupine. Bloody RTE. Bloody TV licences.
That writer is amazing!
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