I received an urgent comic tweet instructing me to watch OMG! with Peaches Geldof on ITV2 last night from my old pal Kevin O’Sullivan, aka @Tvkev the legendary Sunday Mirror TV critic. ‘You’ve got to watch this at least once!’ he said, so I tuned in with my two sons. We lasted a little under ten minutes – long enough to discover this is the worst thing on television. Vomiting uncontrollably or irritable bowl syndrome would be more entertaining than having to sit through OMG! again.
A recent report from a mindless law firm desperate for some attention suggests there are less and less female TV executives in Britain, and this horrifying show would certainly back that up. What lunatic TV executive thought that Peaches Geldof could carry a TV show? Who was so heartless as to let her humiliate herself so badly and expose the totality of the vacuum of her talent ? Why give air time for a toxic celebrity hungry for the next publicity fix, someone who is merely famous for her lineage?
OMG! is shameful, humiliating stuff to watch, which I suppose explains the zombies the producers have drafted in to bay anaemically from the audience. OMG! degrades youth culture – and this isn’t just my age speaking; there is plenty of wonderful, witty trash TV escapism out there. This show is the inbred, drooling, armed-with-a-chainsaw cousin of that genre.
What OMG! proves is that toxic celebrity has burned its way through into the mainstream, like the acid blood from the monster in Alien cutting through the hull of the ship. What on earth can we expect next?
Damn, I realise now that I have fallen into a trap and have given the programme a tiny bit more ink, and perhaps a couple more viewers. The plot and the negative PR has worked! I am at the toxic celebrity heart of darkness. The horror, the horror!