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Wednesday, July 30, 2003
  Instant Fame-Death

Promise this is the last thing about Big Brother for a while. Just couldn't let it go without mentioning the Sunday highlights episode just gone. Did anyone see it? Creepy as fuck. They condensed the whole big Friday final-night shebang into an hour of little clips (thank god i missed the actual final, it looked soul-witheringly devoid of any tension. Even the contestants were acting up. They all wanted to leave. No-one seemed to care who won, least of all the inmates.) Anyway, instead of showing us the crowds outside and the walks of fame etc, the cameras stayed inside to record the reactions of the others as each one left. Each time the doors shut that person disappeared from fame: walked up the bright white staircase to the pearly gates. Instant death. Except, when Cameron and Davina finally evacuated, the cameras still stayed inside! We saw the doors slide shut and we were locked, alone, inside the empty silent house. You could hear the muffled screams from outside. Nothing happened. I was mildly freaking out at this point. And then - oh my god - they started playing hushed, ghostly clips of the contestants' voices as the lights in the house went off one by one. I am not making this up. We were left there, in the pitch black, the party somewhere else, with just the ghosts of memories of people we barely knew.

Look, it was chilling stuff. Someone at C4 messing with our heads. I mean, just the way they seemed to be taking the piss out of the inevitable post-BB comedown. The months of foreplay, the hectic climax of final night, and the instant post-coital chill. Just to remind us: *they*, ie the contestants were never really in the house. We don't really know what any of those people are actually like, we're just familiar with their edited TV personas. They get to leave: we get locked in with their ghosts! I'm frightened. Remember how Jon kept on singing 'Hotel California' while he was in there? HOW DID HE KNOW???

****something related*****

one of the most indelible memories from my TV childhood: it was a Saturday morning kids magazine show called 'On The Waterfront.' It was only on for one series, in the summer while Going Live was off-air. It was probably pretty shit. I can't remember any of the presenters. But throughout the series, every episode, there were these weird things that happened: like, stuff would move by itself, or the lights would go on and off. The presenters acted spooked: the idea was that there was a ghost in the studio. So far so hum-drum spooky. But in the last episode, when the presenters all said goodbye, yes, bye-bye, presumably already knowing the 2nd series hadn't been commissioned: credits roll. The lights go down. Presenters on an empty stage. Spotlight suddenly comes on. They walk up into the audience and sitting there, operating the spotlight, are their ghosts/doppelgangers/whatever. They've been haunting themselves all series. Because there was nowhere else to go after it ended? Because not being famous anymore is like dying? What the fuck? Minor TV celebrities doomed to haunt the empty studios of unsuccessful childrens' programmes for ever... 
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