Thursday, February 19, 2004


There's quite a famous episode of The Simpsons where Homer accidentally knocks the batteries out of the remote control, and ends up flailing blindly trying to replace them before he's forced to watch a live broadcast of a NASA space launch, and is saved at the last minute by Bart pulling the plug out of the wall socket. This, gentle viewer, is the way I felt last night whilst watching the backstage footage of the Brits on ITV1 - only I was paralysed by sheer laziness and a bizarre sense of schadenfreude rather than a powerless infra-red device.

This year's Brits truly was a shitshow, wasn't it? No wonder I chose the lovely Sarah Beeny over it. However, I think the backstage footage might just have been more painful than the show itself, mainly for the smug self-congratulatory air it had. The worst offender was not someone you might expect. It wasn't Justin "Living Proof That There's A Countrywide Shortage of NHS Dentists" Hawkins, Cat "Rock Is Back And To Prove It Here's Busted" Deeley or Kate "I'm Just A Girl Who Cain't Say No" Thornton. Nope. It was Jamie Fucking Cullum.

Okay, I'll freely admit that I can't stand Jamie Fucking Cullum at the best of times. I was once trapped in a car from Deal to London listening to him wanking lyrical on Radio 2 about how nobody would dare touch 'Singin' In The Rain' because it's such a classic, only to hear him shitting on its tombstone and then bulldozing the graveyard shortly afterwards. Jamie Cullum makes jazz music for people who don't like jazz. Or music. Or people.

I was willing to tolerate him up until now because it seemed the only music industry he was intent on destroying was jazz, which, while not an ideal scenario, didn't really affect me that much. Having watched him at the Brits, I can only assume his death wish extends to the entire British music industry, and I can't stand back and watch that happen.

We were forced to see Kate Thornton interviewing him every thirty seconds (I'd be hard pushed to name one of them as the bigger media whore), including a supremely pointless anecdote where he namedropped Alicia Keys just because he could:
JAMIE FUCKING CULLUM: I nearly lent a CD walkman to Alicia Keys.
KATE THORNTON: Why didn't you?
JAMIE FUCKING CULLUM: She already had one.
I then lost all respect for Pharrell Williams as he was shown shaking hands with Jamie Fucking Cullum and telling him that he hadn't stopped listening to Jamie Fucking Cullum's CD since being given it. Jamie Fucking Cullum feigned humility, yet still managed to look more smug than Jonathan Ross marking an A level smugness paper.

So, he must be stopped. And, in the spirit of Patented Panda Pops Protests*, we've decided that Jamie Cullum Must Die. How, we're not quite sure. But he Must Die. We're envisioning a campaign not entirely dissimilar to the one run by the sadly-now-defunct Jamie Oliver Must Die website. Please feel free to submit anecdotes or pictures - like the one above, but photoshopped by someone who isn't a complete retard and actually has more sophisticated software than MS Paint - that will aid the cause.

*Patent pending.


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