It all began with me being too cheap to renew my cable subscription; consequently, I was stuck watching one of the many news channels. They might seem free but they can cost you your intelligence, or whatever’s left of it. But before I was reduced to a debilitating vegetable, I got the idea of the century. What my cult needs is to get on TV! I have a great manifesto (money), a slick agenda (me, rich), but was lacking a to-market strategy. TV, that unifying denominator for all demographics both stupid and rich, (and also bored as a bonus), would be the easiest place to plant myself.
So I started off envisaging a TV show where, between prime time episodes showing close-ups of my feet, I teach yoga, sing and dance, discuss animal husbandry, provide consultation to world leaders, and basically anything else that can promote my revenue streams which, at the moment, are drier than a PG Wodehouse story. But then I decided to do a Trump on it, or a Buffet, and scale up; why do a show when one has, in all humility, enough persona to radiate on the tube all day! I will be, get this dear prospective (and now possibly excited) investors, be launching my own 24 hour TV shenanigans. Channel, I meant, 24 hour TV channel. Freud and slips, I tell ya’…
It was so obvious a plan I was almost gobsmacked it didn’t come to me earlier. But between saving a few thousand souls a day and all that online shopping on dodgy Chinese websites, a spiritual head is left with little time to think of such puerile indulgences.
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Nevertheless, recruitment should begin soon, once I have found a PR company to build up the hype so that people are practically paying me to work for me. I mean, what are their options really?
The pogroms… programmes will cover a vast range of topics and be aimed at people of all ages. But instead of splitting it up as prime time or children’s time, I will squeeze in a bit of everything into every show. Think of it like the perfect recipe: imagine a cartoon series that has it all — from happy songs and a moral ending to deceit, failure, and mind numbing violence. And an item number. Now that would truly be entertainment for the whole family. Just like an Indian meal, I’ll be putting everything on the table at one go and people can ladle themselves just what they want.
I will avoid the sensational yellow journalistic path. I am a noble guru and have, scant as they may be, ideals, to live up to. No random debates on my prime time featuring one-time politicos with has-been heads of (advertising) companies. I will cut through this clutter by following the path of JJE - I will ask the questions before I, myself answer them. It will be me again who analyses the facts and separates the whey of lies and lacunas before announcing the sentence. Judge, jury, executioner, baby! In case people refuse to participate as willing guests on the show, I will simply use puppets with their faces tacked on to them.
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If you think this isn’t funny it is because I am dead serious. Next stop: VC money. Unlike the less-scrupled brethren from the world of business, I will not bungle up with public sector money. The poor souls have worked hard to save for something insignificant. Instead, serve me up the big smug rich types, let me take away their Guccis and Pradas along with all the money in them. If my channel flops (which it really can’t, it is flawless) at least I will be sitting somewhere, observing the sun set on some beach in a country having no extradition treaties with India, with a Pina Colada in my hand to keep me comforting company through my failure.
This column is for anyone who gives an existential toss.