I'm a Non-entity ...

In which The Author pitches another new TV show

I had another idea for a TV programme a few weeks ago, following the phenomenal success of my karaoke and shots idea in the Philippines and Vietnam. (See Calling the Shots.) I always knew it was too extreme for Western wimps, but the Asian markets would lap it up. I'm still waiting to sign the contract with NHK in Japan, and when North Korea gets wind of it … Well, you can guess the rest.

This is also a reality show adapted from a successful existing format. (As a wise man once sang: 'There's nothing new under the sun, everything you think of has been done.') It's a simple enough idea, although it would be quite expensive to implement at first. That's where the advertisers and sponsors come in, to help fund the development stages and keep the programme on the air. As always, the public get to vote via email and phone, and the direction of each series will be determined by this democratic process.

The first step is to locate the agents or management companies for every so-called 'celebrity' photographed in the current edition of Heat magazine.* Then we write to them, inviting their clients to take part in a new prime-time TV show to be syndicated to networks right across the English-speaking world. Depending on how many of these Z-listers agree to come on board, we charter a suitable aircraft and fly them to an uninhabited island in the South Pacific. We tell them that hundreds of hidden cameras will be transmitting live feeds 24/7, and that the course of the show will depend on the public reaction to these people left to fend for themselves.

And I mean literally fend for themselves. We won't be sending a ship to replenish their supplies; there'll be no airlift of essential gear; Ant and Dec won't be sitting in a comfortable studio a short walk away from the 'jungle' in which our volunteers have found themselves. This shit will get very real very quickly. The guests will be left to their own devices. After a few days it will begin to dawn on them that they have no hope of rescue. It's sink or swim.

Thus the public themselves will decide whether this latest bunch of WAGS, soap actors, pop singers, amateur cooks and professional clothes horses are worth watching or not. If the viewers vote to discontinue the experiment, we respect their wishes. We switch off the live feed and bring the series to a close. No winners: just an essential service to improve the quality of the public discourse in the UK. In a couple of years' time everyone will have forgotten about the castaways anyway. By then we'll have found a new set of participants, a new island, and a whole publicity machine will be in place to drive market share for Season 2.

On the other hand, the personality clashes and conflicts which keep mass audiences focused on low-budget televisual garbage might be worth monitoring. In that case, the cameras will keep rolling. The world can watch and salivate as the latest overpaid wastes of DNA descend into Lord of the Flies-style savagery.

I still don't have a working title, but I'm sure I can come up with something in due course. If you'd like to help crowdfund the pilot show in the meantime, drop me a line.

* Other pointless gossip-filled shite publications are available