Let 'the show' just die

Paul Brooks Photo/File

A few of the other zombies and I were hanging out, sitting around in a pleasant state of decay, trying not to let important bits drop off, and talking about local body politics, things body corporate and other subjects of a corporeal nature.

Eventually, the discussion turned to a certain television programme screened on Sunday and subsequently the talk of the town.

"I liked it," said one of our disintegrating number. "It's cool being a zombie town; it suggests people are dying to come here."

Like Jamie O'Leary, he was looking for the positives and finding them. Admirable and worthy of commendation; just not a great joke.

"I didn't like it," said another, ripe for immediate burial. "They didn't show a single shot of our beautiful cemeteries." And he shed a tear.

"I don't get it," said another, festering. "They spoke with Michael Laws; why didn't they speak with people who are still living ... here?" The pause spoke volumes.

"He's just one of our former number, since departed (so to speak), taking potshots from afar."

Then it was my turn and I chose to rant.

"Honestly, what is all the fuss about?" I said from my soap box (not that I've ever seen a real box of soap). "It's a television programme, temporary by nature, 30 per cent advertising, screening on the same channel that brings us such quality gems as My Kitchen Rules and Benefits Street.

"We are taking this far too seriously and giving the programme a status it does not deserve. Most of the country did not see Sunday - they had better things to do.

"Of course it was slanted, tilted, lopsided, listing so far it was in danger of capsizing. It was a hatchet job, edited to fit an agenda. My opinion? Forget it and move on."