Why Don't You (switch off your TV set)?
Written October 2026
The box. The telly. The tube. Friendly, familiar names for something that has been in the homes of almost every citizen for the past 50 years or more, pouring unfiltered shite into the conscious and subconscious of billions of people, day in, day out. Seven days a week. And now, thanks to progress, 24 hours per day. Innocent sounding names for something which is really quite sinister. The propaganda device, the brainwasher, the liar, would perhaps be more accurate descriptors.
I have explored in previous articles the importance and extraordinary success of television as a tool of propaganda for those maniacal beasts who seek to enslave us all. Earlier this year, of course, was the madness of Netflix’s Adolescence, (see my piece here), a drama that spread like a contagion through the country, discombobulating the impressionable masses into believing that sweet and innocent looking little white boys are in clear and present danger of being radicalised by Andrew Tate style online villains, and thus provoked into stabbing their female peers out of sheer, pent up, misogynistic rage. Ludicrous nonsense, of course, but “it woz on the telly”, so many believed it. Keir Starmer, who happened to be playing the role of PM at that time, astonishingly publicly referred to the programme as a “documentary”, giving it even further undeserved credence. “Drama” / “documentary”, “hostage” / “sausage”, these script writers do have a sense of humour, don’t they? The shadow PM of the time, Kemi Badenoch, was berated by two BBC Breakfast presenters for having the apparent cheek to admit that she had not watched Adolescence, an acutely embarrassing moment for the hapless hacks. (All part of the script, obviously, but humiliating all the same.) The smuggest man on radio was tasked with chucking his two-pence worth in, too. I’ll say something for James O’Brien, he’s got stamina! Imagine having to be that smug, arrogant and unlikeable for as long as he has! I mean, he may well be all those things in real life, too, but his on-air persona is so tragic that it can only be the creation of some nihilistic demons. He must be longing for the day that it’s his turn to be retired, even if it involves a scandal that will have him remembered with all the nostalgia of Jim ‘ll Fix It.
The writer of Adolescence, as I explored in my article, was Jack Thorne, a Cambridge graduate, who predictably is a standard bearer for all things supposedly left-wing and socialist. He has a long and glittering back catalogue of work in the same vein as Adolescence, and I was intrigued when just recently another of his virtue-signalling, agenda-pushing offerings, Best Interests, was made available on Netflix, having originally aired on the BBC in 2023. Of course, these shows always do the rounds of platforms, so that their reach will be as large as possible. So, taking one for the team, I handed over four hours of my life to see what the masses are being programmed to think this season.
As a brief synopsis, the show centres around a sick teenage girl, named Marnie, who has a rare form of muscular dystrophy, and requires round-the-clock care from her devoted parents, Nicci (played by Sharon Horgan) and Andrew (played by Michael Sheen). After suffering from a particularly severe chest infection, Marnie is placed in intensive care on life support, and subsequently the doctors treating her recommend that her life support system be switched off. Marnie’s mother fights the decision, while her father resigns himself to accepting the doctors’ opinions. A legal battle ensues, the doctors’ win, and poor little Marnie is essentially unplugged and left to die.
On the surface at first, the programme appears to be showing a balanced view of both sides of what would be a most horrific position for any parent to find themselves facing. It is packed to the gills with emotional scenes, and heartwarming footage of the sick child enjoying life with her loving family. Nicci is a true mama bear, fighting tooth and nail to save the life of her precious child. Likewise, Andrew is portrayed as a sympathetic (if somewhat emasculated) character, who also loves his daughter, but feels she should be put out of her misery, for want of a better phrase. However, it becomes quickly apparent that the message is very far from even-handed, and is, in fact, quite blatantly a push to ignore your own maternal instincts and believe and trust whatever the medical profession demands. By the time poor little Marnie is euthanised, her mother has seen the error of her ways, eaten her humble pie, accepted her over-zealousness and resigned herself to the fact that her daughter should die.
Every episode teems with not-so-subtle nudges. A Christian organisation that offers to help Nicci in her fight are painted as extremists, as if they are fundamentalist types stuck in an old world. Andrew looks disdainfully at his wife, who wants to accept the organisation’s help, and says, “pro-lifers? What, we’re anti-abortion now?” The implication, of course, is that to be pro-life and anti-abortion is to wrongthink, to be outdated, unprogressive, and an awful person. Even Nicci, though, later makes a point of affirming her own progressive credentials, when she accepts the Christan organisation’s help, but with the proviso that she wants them to know, she’s fully pro-choice.
The show even manages to squeeze in a push for organ donation, just before it closes. Mum, Nicci, now fully on board with offing her poor child, having accepted her re-education, now readily agrees with her husband and older daughter that yes, indeed, Marnie would have wanted to “help others” (that old chestnut). So, poor Marnie is rushed from the room, moments after they flick the switch, to a neighbouring room that the doctor has informed them has been specially prepared for harvesting the child’s precious organs. The family leave the hospital, get in their car, the tense atmosphere now replaced with lightness and freedom – a thread of joy, perhaps - and they ride off into the sunset discussing somewhere to go for lunch.
Essentially, the takeaway from the programme was a very firm nod towards the supposedly wonderful NHS, envy of the world, and that to question the decisions and recommendations made by those within it is tantamount to treachery. The NHS, we must believe, have all of our “best interests” at heart, and mummy dearest could not possibly know better about her own child than they do. Oh, and, of course, a good old push for fresh organs.
The programme, of course, like Adolescence after it, was nominated and won several accolades. These awards are an ever-present part of such psychological nudges, which speaks to the tragic gullibility of the general public, so easily persuaded that a show has worth and merit if it wins awards.
There is a bingo card of these crap dramas lurking around the networks, ready to nudge the compliant into how and what to think.
In 2024 ITV gave us their gem, Breathtaking (I wrote about this here), in which we were treated to three excruciating episodes of wall-to-wall NHS arse-licking and hero worship, in a tale of the horror supposedly taking place in hospitals during the scamdemic. It is nothing more, however, than an unending stream of lies, wrapped up in Joanna Frogget’s dodgy over-acting.
Another ITV banger, Butterfly, from 2018 (which I wrote about here). The aim of this particular wheelie bin of misery was to not-so-subtly nudge the gormless viewers into believing in the existence of the trans child, and to frame the concept as a matter of kindness. Loosely translated, trans kids exist, are tortured by their bodily wrongness, and if you love them, you will allow them to block their puberty and lop off healthy body parts, à la Jeanette Jennings.
But dramas are not the only weapon in the arsenal of TV propaganda. Documentary departments are at it with all the gusto of David Tennant at a trans rights rally. I wrote previously about the Channel 5 so-called documentary, The Disappearance that Gripped Britain, where we were hounded with “the truth” about the case of Nicola Bulley, the 40-something woman who allegedly disappeared while walking her dog. So keen were they to stop any speculation about the ridiculously suspicious “official narrative”, that they rolled out their usual cast of goons to tell you what you must believe. It is a tried and tested pattern.
So, beware the “drama” purporting to tell the real story of a shocking crime or outrageous scandal. Think twice about the “documentary” and what it is supposedly revealing. And even consider what the real motives are behind the glitzy or fun “reality” shows. Chances are, there is a nudge going on, a determined bid to switch off your critical thinking. To quote a popular children’s TV show of the 80s, “why don’t you, switch off your TV set, and do something less boring instead?”. Or something like that.
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