…in which Niall thinks of the children.
Facebook friends will be aware of my highly successful attempt to destroy one Jordan de Courcy during last Wednesday’s inaugural edition of Junior Apprentice. I like to think that his firing at the end of the show was a direct consequence of this well-organised and not at all bullying campaign.
Perhaps it’s a smidgeon unfair to pick on children, but these are no ordinary children, are they, viewers? Regular children – by which I mean children who don’t wear suits on a daily basis and don’t say things like “I turned over £50,000 in the last financial yaah” – don’t deserve to have the mocking spotlight of boardroom politics thrust upon them. Conversely, children who want to go on Junior Apprentice should, under no circumstances, be allowed to do so. Nothing good can come of it. Haven’t they read Lord of the Flies? And have we learned nothing from the example of erstwhile child prodigy/fraud James/Lauren Harries? He was terrifying enough badgering on about antiques on Wogan back in the eighties, but he was even more terrifying masturbating furiously (or something) in a dress on This Morning last year. Parents beware – this is the fate that awaits your child. Not a successful career in business and therefore a very comfortable early retirement for you, but a twisted existence based on questionable appearances on daytime television and very possibly their own XTube channel.
Thus far, the BBC has sensibly avoided any scenes of boardroom tears, which I’m quite pleased about. Watching boys blub isn’t particularly entertaining, but watching boys try not to blub is fucking hilarious. Every quivering jawline, trembling lower lip and swiftly reddening cheek is like a little gift from heaven (trans: television centre) for me. Yes it’s cruel, and at some point in the next six weeks we’ll all have to feign outrage at the BBC for putting them through it, but let’s not forget – these little buggers deserve everything they get. They may be just above the age of consent, but clearly not one of them has the sense they were born with. I would normally blame the parents, but more often than not kids like these are Midwich Cuckoos, born to absolutely lovely mothers and fathers who simply can’t understand how they managed to spawn Satan.
In other words, they’re fair game. Let the cull commence.