A Seriously Serious Letter of Complaint

Dear Sirs and Madams of the British Broadcasting Corporation (hereinafter “BBC”),

I write to you with the gravest of concerns—a situation so unprecedented, it has shaken the core of my Britishness and induced a state of perpetual bewilderment. Kindly bear with me as I elucidate my grievances. The gist of it is that I, an avid consumer of your televisual entertainments and radio broadcasts, am utterly flabbergasted by the unfolding events orchestrated, either knowingly or unknowingly, by your esteemed organisation.

Let’s commence with “Question Time”. Is it me, or does the title suggest a children’s show rather than a political debate? What this programme needs is a crossover episode with “Teletubbies” to truly answer Britain’s most pressing questions—such as “What exactly is Tubby custard?” Now, about the Teletubbies reboot. Listen, it was baffling enough in the ‘90s, but now? Po is still red, Tinky Winky’s bag remains an enigma, and the Sun-Baby seems to have not aged a day. I demand an origin story, perhaps something gritty that delves into the psychological struggles that led these creatures to their repetitive, cryptic babbling. Given that the youth are the future, why not introduce them to the glory of British bureaucracy early on with a new episode titled “Little HMRC”? Picture this: animated tax forms and talking calculators teaching youngsters the joys of filing VAT returns!

Next, “Casualty”. As a medical drama, one would expect a touch of realism. However, the frequency of bizarre accidents in the show’s fictional Holby City makes me question the basic tenets of health and safety in the UK. Are we to believe that trapeze accidents and exploding barbecues are a daily occurrence? If so, I must reconsider my weekend plans posthaste. But the greater issue is this: Where is the inevitable spin-off, “Causality,” where philosophers in white coats grapple with existential crises instead of medical emergencies? Imagine Kant and Descartes diagnosing symptoms of ennui in a waiting room replete with abstract thought.

Let’s also discuss “Springwatch” and “Autumnwatch”. Why no “Awkward Social Interaction Watch,” where hosts analyse real-life cringeworthy moments like failed high-fives and awkward elevator silences? The British public deserves to feel seen, too.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention “Strictly Come Dancing”. Where, I ask you, is the episode dedicated to traditional British dances? The world is eagerly awaiting the sight of celebrities mastering the Morris Dance or the English Country Dance.

And finally, to the most egregious of them all: “MasterChef”. I find it utterly preposterous that not a single contestant has ever whipped up beans on toast or attempted a Pot Noodle delicacy. This is a slap in the face to the great British culinary tradition!

I await your immediate attention to these urgent matters. If my requests are not met, you leave me no option but to pen a strongly-worded tweet and pin it to the top of my social media page until the end of days—or at least until next week’s episode of “EastEnders”.

Yours indignantly,

Mr Colm Plainer