Do you remember when radio was entertaining?
It sure has sunk from the once loft heights it attained before television. Sure we have variety with numerous stations of head-banging rubbish to wall-to-wall lefties on the ABC, but I couldn't believe my ears when I switched on an Adelaide AM 'talk' station, forgetting for a moment it was Saturday morning when they have sporting 'identities', who aren't the sharpest tacks in the box, reading out a stack of sms and emails because their tiny brains were, it seems, incapable of producing anything original.
But wait there's more as the salesman said. My body clock is out of whack so I tried the 'talk' radio again after midnight when I had trouble sleeping. Now I don't know if its just me but to listen to a woman, minus teeth and old enough to know better, slobber and spit her way through the highlight of her miserable week telling us her experience in buying a new fry pan, almost saw my transistor radio thrown through the window. Surely the announcer must have been zonked out on Valium, or perhaps on work experience.
There must be a sub-culture that 'talk' radio is solely designed for, where people who struggle to string 6 coherent words together that either make sense or are in the slightest bit interesting, are free to ramble their time away and vent their pea brains.
It sure has sunk from the once loft heights it attained before television. Sure we have variety with numerous stations of head-banging rubbish to wall-to-wall lefties on the ABC, but I couldn't believe my ears when I switched on an Adelaide AM 'talk' station, forgetting for a moment it was Saturday morning when they have sporting 'identities', who aren't the sharpest tacks in the box, reading out a stack of sms and emails because their tiny brains were, it seems, incapable of producing anything original.
But wait there's more as the salesman said. My body clock is out of whack so I tried the 'talk' radio again after midnight when I had trouble sleeping. Now I don't know if its just me but to listen to a woman, minus teeth and old enough to know better, slobber and spit her way through the highlight of her miserable week telling us her experience in buying a new fry pan, almost saw my transistor radio thrown through the window. Surely the announcer must have been zonked out on Valium, or perhaps on work experience.
There must be a sub-culture that 'talk' radio is solely designed for, where people who struggle to string 6 coherent words together that either make sense or are in the slightest bit interesting, are free to ramble their time away and vent their pea brains.
