fokus all hail the cox

You may have noticed something happening on your screens lately, a theme of sorts. It consists largely of spray tanned organ caskets discussing hair extensions and joy kill shit piles sitting on stages arguing with their uncles. This is reality television. Our reality, it is apparently entertainment.

We have been brought to our knees by our own existence and if you are still firing on all intellectual cylinders this is not a exciting prospect when you sit down with your remote, more a reason to detest other humans.

Reality TV has its shit brained overlord. His name is Peter Andre. Where is the leader of the opposition. I'll tell you where he is, he's on a hillside or in a field looking up at the stars. His name is Brian Cox and he is the king of reality tv for the intellectual.

Come, fellow quick witted soldiers of fortune, let us sit around the screen and bask in his glow of awesomeness. His reality tv kicks all other reality tv down a steep flight of stairs using excellence and the three laws of motion.

ITV reality has break-ups and questionable speech patterns, Brian has a PHD and the universe. Yes, the fucking universe. Beat that Andre.

Run of the mill reality is based on the diluted drama/non-drama of which dress fits best. Brian Cox's universal reality of win has physics and Brian Cox.

I will be using this year to tell my friends that should they choose to watch Andre's mundanity brigade, their tv will launch itself from the sideboard and round house them through the french windows. I will tell them to pass this information onto their children.

I am on a mission here. Let us all join together and celebrate the Cox and his Clarity Arc. The bigger picture does not mean the 51" plasma screen on offer in Argos. Brian talks about the universe in a way that excites and intrigues. He gives insight into the beautiful incomprehensible reality that is easily accessible if you go into your back garden and look up into the sky.

No break-ups and DNA tests, no hair gel and fake lashes, just hour after hour of Cox ( that sentence doesn't read as well as I hoped it would).