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6 May 1999 Edition

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Television: SUMMER DROSS

By Sean O Donaile

Hollywood Love (Network 2)
NYPD Blue (Channel 40
20-20 (TV 3)
Various other dross
First off, if you're watching TV in this weather, you're probably one of those saddos who pulls the curtains to block out the sunlight, as your Pot Noodles' pile amasses and you pick fluff from your bellybutton and look at the girls on page three and promise yourself that you'll get your act together tomorrow.

If you do have a life, you'll be out picking strawberries, rollerblading in Coalisland or hurling in Clare, where there's no such thing as cable TV and none of that ``foreign muck that has our country the way it is''.

Up to recently, the entire parish had to huddle around the Parish Priest's Black and White of a Sunday to watch The Riordans, but then Benjy was caught with his trousers down and that was the end of that.

These days, we've been ``blessed'' with the joys of Ireland's very own TV 3, which kicks off the day with the classic Home Shopping, where you'll be convinced of the benefits of nonstick gloves, glass hammers and leotards by people who've had a little too much Colgate and testosterone.

This is followed by a string of muck, including Australian surf soap `Breakers' where Burt lets Trish know of his true feelings for her and Jamie and Rick have a misunderstanding.

`Judge Judy' does her damndest to keep warring couples apart in this week's episode

Bill and Lorraine squabble over post divorce belongings. including hairdryers, jogger-strollers (a pram that one can push one's baby in while one jogs - tipped to be a best-seller on the Falls this summer) and plastic jewellery; while Ricki Lake ``tries to reunite'' 15-year-old, 16-stone Mary, who's moved with her white trash 49-year-old boyfriend into his white trash trailer park with her 34-year-old 43-stone Mom, alas to no avail, as ``my Momma don't show no respect for me''.

Over on Network 2 , if you'd finished reading all this month's `Hello' and `Women's Own' issues and finished those four boxes of Milk Tray, ``Hollywood Love'' would've intrigued you- we were entertained by a string of sex therapists, sex analysts , sex addicts, prophylactic addicts, and Baywatch babes, all friendly in the American way, but utterly vacuous - `` you guys just think Hollwood is all about sex and sleaze and plastic boobs, but we all meditate''; which is what Hugh Grant definitely wasn't doing when he met Divine - ``maybe he really wanted to go on a psycho-sexual adventure... and get down and dirty''- so says the blue-haired polo-necked George Falderneau of Playboy.

The principal beneficiary of his misdemeanour, Divine, told us of his desire-''he wanted all of me'' and after international stardom she has now launched an acting career with a porno reenactment of her dalliance with Hugh - ``it's really full of good acting!''

We met Ex Batman and Robin stars of the Sixties who told us of their ``wildest sexual debauchery... we were whales in a sea of plankton''- Holy Kabowly to that!

We had to undergo Michael Douglas's traumatic treatment for sex addiction in the Hollywood Sex Clinic; 70-year-old swingers; 50-year-old Bob who injects prophylactic into his penis ``so I can be King of The Block''; and the infamous King of low-life porn Larry Flynt, who was shot and parlysed by irate Christians for portraying naked ladies on glass crucifixes - ``I exploit women like McDonald's use hamburgers'', which just about sums up Hollywood's attitude to most women.

Back in multichannel land , back from a barbecue and desperate for a last minute programme, Detective Sipowitz was ``still breaking balls at the Academy'' on NYPD Blue, and sure why wouldn't he , with low life Leroy selling crack, mugging his granny and the like- but ``we'll sort him out down the station''.

After ``chasing bad guys'' and `` three black kids jumped me on the sidewalk'', Jimmy Stopowetzziie loses his cool and shoots one of his own - ``you wasn't wearing your colours man'' and the `` good guys end up taking lumps out of each other downtown''.

Golden boy Ricky Schroeder, who was every Mammy's favourite in the Christmas weepie `The Champ' many moons ago, and promptly disappeared for ten years while his acne appeared, is now back as ``take no shit'' detective Mullarkey, or a jumped up Branchman in our eyes; his ``pain-in-the-ass dinosaur partner is pissing in his ear'' and after chasing the bad guys it's down the fire escape and into the yellow cab across town for a few whiskies in Johnny Shamrocks - ``the kid's alright ye know''.

Despite earlier rantings, you could actually do worse than Judge Judy and follow the Orange league - the Glens and the Blues were busy abusing each other at the classic Coca Cola Cup (or was it tea cup?) Final in Windsor park, as there were no Fenians to throw golfballs at - Cliftonville despite their efforts are still not welcome at the party

And Celtic need more dollars (and less pennies) if they're ever to catch the other horse in the bore that Scottish football has become, as this article has so adieu, it's time to pick strawberies and get the Pot Noodles- Get a Life!!

An Phoblacht
44 Parnell Sq.
Dublin 1
Ireland