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Here we were at last: Britain’s Got Talent finals night.
Ooh, the excitement. Would it be Janey Cutler, the Scottish Zelda? Or Tobias Mead, the kerrrazzyy backwards dancer?
Maybe this was the year for someone with real, actual entertaining talent to win; someone like impressionist Paul Burling?
Whatever. We were just happy – ecstatic, actually – that this year’s BGT final wouldn’t be tarnished by insufferable posh kids The Arrangement (name of their violin player? Lara Le Cort De Billo).
It seems to have been a longer ride this year, but we’re there at last: the Britain’s Got Talent Semi-Finals.
Maybe the sheen is beginning to tarnish: once you’ve seen one terrifyingly stentorian middle-aged lady making an abused border collie do some ballet for a molecule of bacon, you’ve seen them all.
Or perhaps we’re just getting older now: the pensioners who are so desperate for human interaction that they’re glad to spend an evening singing 40s standards while standing in an expanding puddle of piss seem less like our great-grandparents and instead step depressingly up the ancestral ladder.
Either way, this year’s Britain’s Got Talent has been an oddly dispiriting one. But now it nears its conclusion…
