Hopefully by now you might have heard of a little charity I work for called Rhythmix. Maybe you know us for all the great work we've done over 12 years working with vulnerable young people across the south east of England. Possibly you've heard about the very important work we do with young people with severe learning or physical disabilities. I'm joking of course. You know us from such informative headlines as 'Charity sues X Factor over name of girl band'.
There's always a fine line when it comes to provocative drama and controversy, and the difference between compelling and pathetic is usually about a couple of inches. Currently, X Factor is miles away from the Katharine Hepburn end of things and firmly in the drunk guy at a party end.
Is not the United States of America too wrong and big and shiny to handle such a keepsake as Bullseye and successfully leave its mystique intact? Will not its wrong, big and shinily-expensive mitt crush this small, culty TV memory as it attempts to pick it up and shake the loot out of it?
It was only last week when a friend pointed out to me that he had got hooked on X-Factor thanks to my tweets and then wanted tips on how to watch TV a...
Whilst, for the sake of highlighting the issue, this blog does mention Sami's weight, let's hope that viewers and voters will see past it, and that Sami's success will depend on her performance. If it's a case of talent versus image, talent should win every time.
In essence, the X Factor UK isn't a singing competition anymore. In fact, it's become something of a freak show. A farce. And ironically, nothing highlights that more than Simon Cowell's brand spanking new baby, the X Factor USA.
The fact is, no one ever said this was going to be a talent show in its truest sense. If it was, we'd be so bored. Imagine sitting through a talent show resembling something like a Year 10 school production.
Will future generations look back on our love of the X Factor in the same way that we look back on our ancestors' love of bear-baiting? As our forefa...
I don't normally watch X Factor. Like Stephen Fry, I find the emotions it exploits - awkwardness and embarrassment - overrated as entertainment vehicles. But last Saturday night, I was forced to switch on the US version of the show after seeing Steve Jones trending on Twitter.
It happens every year, of course. A young singer with a deep ache in their ego, I mean soul, blubs before the X Factor cameras. They say things that might as well be written on cue cards, helpfully held up by the producers: 'It means everything to me.'
In the wake of last week's X Factor, I found myself deliberating on the genre in to which this televisual behemoth should be placed.
Don't worry. Be happy. We're all in this together.
Now that we have the world at our fingertips, are we losing the ability to uncover the hidden mysteries of life for ourselves? And, as a result of this, are our stories becoming less exciting?
I must not be the only one who screamed at the TV and took Twitter and ranted "HOW CAN GOLDIE GET THROUGH!!!!" Goldie Cheung, who is (let's face it) ...
Regardless of Ceri Rees's own mental health, this is not the first time that concerns have been raised about the mental wellbeing of contestants on the show, and whether it is appropriate for vulnerable people to take part in these programmes.
There's a phrase for this phenomenon: 'second screen'. Doing something on one screen - be it a mobile, tablet or laptop - related to what you're watching on the bigger screen in the corner of your living room.