Radiation by Fiona Rae

The Domness

Just as Keanu Reeves is The Coolness, I’ve decided that Dominic Bowden is The Domness. He is the blank slate onto which we can project anything. He is The Dominator, he is everywhere, we believe everything he says. He should be, therefore, reading the news.

Or perhaps on Holmes, god knows he asks equally stupid questions. I can see him on Breakfast, making unfunny banter with Ali. Rumours will start about them, they will be forced to go to the women’s magazines. There he is on Sunday, with his serious face. Or what about Fair Go? Running at rip-off merchants with his mike cord trailing. He’ll be everywhere; it’ll be like that ad where Joel Tobeck plays everyone at the posh shopping plaza. In fact, I’m sure The Dom did a skit like that on Space. See what I mean?

He is One-Take Dom. During National Anthem he fluffed his lines, at most, twice. Mere trifles compared with the other hosts, who should have left their party pills at home. They needed some pointers from The Domness.

There were a few crap bands on National Anthem, which made it all the more fun. Wellington surely is the place that reggae goes to die – and just why exactly does anyone form a ska band? Particular highlight: the International Telepaths, a guitarist and drummer who were playing completely different songs. I think it was their way of saying “Fuck you!”

Still enjoying The Apprentice? I’m hoping for a “making of” where they explain the special effect that is The Don’s hairdo. Here’s a fascinating interview with Mark Burnett, the King of Reality, the producer of Survivor and The Apprentice, who explains that he is a huge fan of Joseph Campbell and that Survivor uses archetypal symbols of death and rebirth. Dude, that’s just cold. And manipulative. I’m urging you to stand firm. Must. Resist. The Brits might be falling out of love with them, according to this story in The Guardian, although I tend to think reality shows are the same as other shows in that respect: some flop, some don’t.

And now we turn to the mailbag, and Radiation welcomes Marion Hobbs (crikey!) who writes that “Love Actually is great on a long long plane flight, when you are avoiding reading the work papers that make up your hand luggage.”

Andrew Dubber writes that “The sound that Jake 2.0’s nanobots make when he goes into super-hyper mode are getting on my wick. It’s like a drum and bass remix of Steve Austin’s bionic noise -- and even he had more than one of those.” That is definitely a very silly programme and that cod-Matrix sound is definitely very annoying.

And Samuel Walker says: “Here’s a thought. What kind of moron would programme Eating Media Lunch against State of Play? surely it doesn’t take much lateral thought to realise they would appeal to the same people?”

I’m kinda liking The Insiders Guide to Happiness, despite the fact that it’s failing to create any dramatic tension. Maybe that’s the point. They’re in Limbo. In Wellington.

And C4 is screening MTV show Pimp My Ride in a couple of weeks, which I mentioned a while back. Hey, it’s gotta be better than Extreme Makeover.