“I think I’m gonna spew,” said Brad Cranfield, winner of The Block, which is certainly how this viewer felt watching the Channel Nine renovation show last Sunday night.
As the contestants listened to hundreds of thousands of dollars pour into their bank accounts in the show’s finale, a glassy-eyed, almost drugged stupor took hold of them. It was like watching a coked-up businessman fondle a stripper during a lap dance: naked human desire, stoked for 10 weeks, then sated with a Bacchanalia of ”Block-tion” bids.
Religion may well be the opium of the people but nowadays it’s a little old-fashioned compared with the meth-hit of consumerism; the result, a zombie-like lust for crap we do not need, for a house we cannot possibly fill, a life most of us will never lead.
Sam de Brito in a great article on the final episode of The Block: an Australian reality TV series.
A few weeks ago Kitty was away and I was watching TV for the first time in months and came across The Block for the first time. I actually felt sick watching it then, there’s something not right about seeing people so obsessed with such trivial matters in the name of flipping a house for profit.