Indecent Proposal

16 Jul

Coming soon on Tesco Inferno TV- watch the fuck out, Channel 4

Last December, a dream that my sister and I had long-since shared was shattered: for years, we had been working towards a proposal for a TV show that would in its sheer gimmicky stupidity eclipse even Monkey Tennis and Youth Hostelling with Chris EubankThe idea was that we would bring together the estranged Hitchens brothers and give them a half-hour slot in which they would travel to regional restaurants to work as sous-chefs and argue loudly about god and politics. The title? The Hitchens in the Kitchensgenius.

Unfortunately, Christopher Hitchens’ death rather diluted the novelty potential and brought us right back to the drawing board: you can’t, after all, expect people to watch Mail on Sunday columnist Peter debating transubstantiation on his own for thrity minutes as he chops onions and garnishes cupcakes. Well, you wouldn’t, would you?

Yesterday, though, I was hit by an epiphany of such moronic clarity, such towering, glaring, damascene futility that I had to stop and check my reflection in the mirror to ensure that I hadn’t turned into some viral twitter thread: I tell you, it was like a fucking brain-wave. If you thought Desperate Scousewives was a pun too far, I would advise you to stop reading now; this may be the single worst idea for a television programme in the history of half-witted thought.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Marx and Spencer, a meta-historical reality TV show in which Eden Hotel heir and Made in Chelsea dickhead Spencer Matthews takes a journey across Eastern Europe and Russia, exploring the thinking behind dialectical materialism and the difficulties experienced by the Soviet Union in establishing a true Marxist state. There could be a scene in which he discusses the implications of Capital and hegemony in a branch of Jack Wills, or questions differing views on the exploitation of the proleteriat from a swivel chair in the VIP box of a Moscow strip club. We could show him necking pints of vodka in an attempt to illustrate the corrupting effects of personal power, or interviewing Terry Eagleton and Francis Wheen at a Mahiki private function. There could be cameos from other recurring Made in Chelsea regulars: I reckon Francis Boulle would do a mean impersonation of Friedrich Engels, and the one with the smugly equine grin- Hugo, I think- could stand in as a personification of bourgeois decadence. As for Spencer himself, a little spin may be required: we could market him as, say, a low-rent version of Jonathan Meades, or a sloaney and less irritating Alain de Botton: believe me, it would be glorious.


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