Noel flaming Edmonds!

The more astute of you blog-gogglers may have made some assumptions about this blog post, based upon the title. You assume that just because I entitle the post with an angry exclamation directed at Noel Edmonds, this blog post is going to be a continuation of the earlier rant about Deal or No Deal. You and your bloody assumptions.

Well, you're right. I am going to continue to slag off Deal or No Deal.
Part two of this rant comes two blog posts after part one because I couldn't think of anything to complain about. I had effectively exhausted my ammunition on the first rant.
But then, like some Arsenal shirt-wearing angel, Mister Josh Shaw did descend from the heavenly clouds of Facebook, and he did provide me with a shiny new reason to despise DoND. Thanks, Josh!

The Deal or No Deal: Seaside Specials.

What was THAT all about? I kind of understand the thinking behind having a seaside special, what with the seaside being synonymous with summer, but did they have to dress up all the contestants in stupid costumes? There were sailor suits, straw hats, stripy swimming costumes and inflatable armbands all over the ruddy place.
...I think Noel was wearing a stupid costume as well, but you can never be sure with him...
Furthermore, the one person with the most embarrassing costume, a chap wearing a swimming vest, swimming shorts/trousers and the aforementioned armbands, was 'randomly' chosen to play the game! He seemed like an enthusiastic fellow, but I bet he wished that he was chosen a few weeks later, when he could have negotiated life-changing sums of money in slightly less ridiculous attire. I felt sorry for him, even if he didn't feel sorry for himself.
The sight of all these people, people who look like captive vaudevillians forced to play this insane game and pretend to like it, is truly something that will never leave me until the day I die. They stand there, staring at the player with such intensity and concentration. They're just doing that because they're on the telly, and they want to look like they give a toss about the financial future of Bernard from Basingstoke.

Furthermore, they use this as an excuse to get a little extra money from a company that provides them with holidays to give away as prizes to certain contestants. But these contestants aren't just given the holidays, oh no. They have to pick between two flavours of ice cream, one of which will give them the holiday, the other of which will enable the Banker to see what the player has in their box, potentially shifting the nature of the offers. This is hardly a game of skill. It's just more guesswork. The whole game is guesswork.
Guess which boxes have the small money in!
Guess what stage you should accept the Banker's offer before the offers drop!
Guess what flavour of ice cream will get you a holiday in Costa Rica!
There is no skill involved in Deal or No Deal, and these Seaside Specials, instead of taking this opportunity to inject a bit of actual skill into the game, just slap on another few dollops of guesswork and put the kids of the people running the costume department through college!

Pitiful.
I still watched it, though. And furthermore, I've come up with a better metaphor to describe why I watch Deal or No Deal. It's like a freak show. Simple as that. "Roll up! Roll up! See Noel, the Man-Lion, as he tricks simpletons with boxes into thinking they're making complex business negotiations!"

At ease.