Got no talent? Do a cover version

Seeing as I do my level best to never go outside, I spent my Saturday night watching the X Factor. I love the X Factor. Every year it comes up with a few gems, who are somehow more objectionable than those the year before. My favourite this year is 'Cher'; A Cheryl Cole wannabe who may actually prove to be more annoying than Cheryl Cole herself. Only time can tell really. Yesterday she raped and murdered Viva La Vida by Coldplay - not my favourite band or song by any means but surely they deserve better than for her to shit unceremoniously all over their song. She took to the stage with her wonky sideways smile, gurning like a stroke victim. Whippet thin and strutting up and down the stage like a demented marionette, she attempted to rap some of the words, and just forget the others altogether. I have provided a link to the affront to music below. I could write a novel and still never catch the killer combination of smugness and hammy awfulness she manages to produce in just minutes, but I can't be bothered so see for yourself.

Curiously, adding comments for the video has been disabled. I wonder why.

It got me thinking about other examples of terrible cover versions. I hate cover versions at the best of times. Is there anything more lazy then singing someone else's song? They are always inferior, and in some cases, downright insulting. I have listed the ones I hate the most below.

Florence and the Machine - You got the love

Florence, alongside her 'machine' whatever that means are quite good sometimes. But they are at their worst here, ruthlessly dry-humping the cadaver of Candi Staton's 'You got the love' over and over again. In a textbook case of oversinging, her voice flutters and undulates like 2 fat people copulating. It is all very unnecessary. Her voice is like a foghorn at the best of times, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the face. Here is is entirely inappropriate and makes me want to burst my eardrums with a rusty nail.

Jamie Cullum - High and Dry

Generally speaking, it is not wise to cover Radiohead. Radiohead are good and intensely depressing and therefore fit my mantra perfectly. Jamie Cullum is not good. He is an arse-faced midget who champions the worst genre ever. Witness his light-jazz infused destruction of High and Dry and recoil in horror, unless you are a complete simpleton in which case you will crow on about his 'arrangement', while reclining in a terrible Stevenage winebar. You are a moron.

Professor Green Feat. Lily Allen - Just be good to me

I know that the Beats International version was also a cover, but it was good. Norman Cook is good. This version has Lily Allen in it. That's more than enough to make me want to shit my own brain out.

Mariah Carey - I can't live

I can't live after hearing this interpretation. 3 minutes of Manatee-faced Mariah singing her ample lungs out. Another example of completely unnecessary vocal gymnastics. Subtlety - so subtle you don't say the 'b'. Look it up, Mariah. Less is more.

All Saints - Under the Bridge

The Red Hot Chilis may be an overrated pile of tosh beloved only by South Africans, but this is yet another case of having a decent song desecrated by a bunch of vapid whores with no regard for or understanding of the source material. For about 5 minutes, people liked the All Saints, until they realised that they were crap, and one of the American ones was clearly bonkers. To add insult to injury, this version, which closer resembled a send-up than a homage was their breakthrough single.

Westlife Feat. Mariah Carey - Against all odds 

Another appearance for the charmless slab of soul-diva, this time garnished with Westlife sauce. In fact, Westlife have ruined loads of songs, having no originality or talent within their ranks. This cover version is made exponentially worse by having both contribute their meagre 'talents'. This is the most damaging collaboration since the Nazis and Japs had a little pow-wow.

Bo Diddley Feat. Faith Evans - Missin' Y'all

When the sweary, woman-hating butterball known as Notorious B.I.G. was finally shot with enough bullets to finish him off, most right-minded folk were quite happy at the prospect of never having to hear his 'East Coast-West Coast' rhetoric again. But it presented a problem for Puff Daddy (as he was known at the time) as the only rapper in his little stable with any discernible talent was now a bloated and rotting corpse. Thankfully, the entrepreneurial Puffy struck while the iron was hot and released a tribute record for his murdered colleague, which fittingly murdered 'Every Breath You Take' by the Police. B.I.G.'s widow, Faith Evans, bravely stopped crying for just long enough to add her squawky vocals to the track. Luckily she was able to dry her eyes with all the dollar bills that were to come flooding her way as a result shifting millions of Copies. Puff Daddy, who is now known as 'Diddy' (except in the U.K.) is definitely NOT a criminal and profited enormously from the venture.

Madonna - American Pie

There was a time when Madonna was regarded as something other than a veiny old whore. During this period, she recorded a cover version of Don McLean's 'American Pie' which, if it were quantifiable, may lay claim to be the worst cover version of all time. Part-time prostitute and full-time arsehole, even Madonna's thin veneer of 'credibility' could not prevent this from being dreadful. Ostensibly about the death of Buddy Holly, Madonna managed to kill music with it instead.

Anyone can get a gig on TV these days

There are many mysteries in our world. The Bermuda Triangle. The Disappearance of Lord Lucan. Why people find the fat one out of Gavin and Stacey funny. But one mystery which eclipses all of these is a case which defies all logic. The case of a man whose distinct lack of credibility has made him something of a media darling. A man, who, presiding over a particularly obnoxious reign of an nasty tabloid which ended in a final, desperate belch of non-apology and utter disgrace has somehow been escalated to celebrity status. I speak, of course, of Piers Morgan.

Maybe it's his fawning little face, his ruddy cheeks or his beady eyes. It could be his jolly, roly poly physique or his wet charm that has particularly stupid housewives wrapped around his stubby little fingers. Then again, it could be the savvy of Simon Cowell, who on appointing Morgan as a judge on Britain's Got Talent not only made himself appear slightly less pompous, but also managed to bestow upon aspergers' android Amanda Holden the vague facade of being human. Morgan is so smug about his unexpected and fully undeserved success he probably blows a kiss when he sees himself in the mirror.

Quite why a 'resigned' former editor of a salacious redtop is adjudged to be in any position to assess talent is beyond me but there you go. It's the world we live in. Not only this, 'Pierce' as tupperware-titted waste of oxygen Katie Price/Reid/Andre/Bowers/Yorke likes to call him has his own show, where he interviews people who are not so disgusted on first sight of him as to vomit their intestines all over his smarmy face. I can see why Parky resigned, as he obviously got wind that a new, young maverick would be blazing a trail in the chat world, redefining the genre forever. Or maybe just having a chinwag with his ever-decreasing pool of mates.

But what's this! Morgan has somehow landed Larry King's vacant seat. I have it all wrong! Perhaps I should take a leaf out of Mr.Morgan's book. I would start by royally screwing up my job to the point where an international incident was stirring. Then, after laying low for a couple of years I would not only return to the previous level of fame I had attained, but eclipse it by actually being invited onto the TV! I'm off to curl out a turd onto my boss's desk.

Piers 'Leaves' the Daily Mirror

Between puberty and adulthood, things get odd

I really dislike young people. Not all of them, mind. just about 90% of them. I dislike them because they're even more cocksure than I remember people my age being at the time. The ones that are not cocksure are forming suicide pacts and ending it all over some major life travail, such as not getting the exact Land Rover sport that they wanted, or having to live in Wales. I have compiled a list of young people that I dislike, just because I can. And I don't have to do homework or study so there. In fact I never have to learn anything again in my life, ever. And I won't. Put that in the bong under your bed and smoke it.

Skinny jean wearers. I hate you all. It used to be that skinny legs were a sign that your mum didn't feed you, and were to be covered up at all costs. I owned the baggiest pair of jeans imaginable and wore them from 10 to 16, just so social services didn't put me in care. Now emaciated legs are jauntily worn like a badge of honour. It must be considered attractive if you have never had to convey yourself under your own steam. Do you kids have stairlifts at home? Atrophied, lanky spider limbs shoehorned into jeans barely roomy enough for an Olsen twin.Where do you put their genitals?

Girls with too much hair. You're so stupid you make me want to throw you in the river. Overly long tresses, back-combed to within an inch their life, and then dragged through the world's biggest hedge, backwards, by a pack of wolves. A flock of Albatrosses could be perched in your ridiculous bouffants and you wouldn't know. In fact, best check your hair now, if you can see past your fringe into the mirror. And you have a mirror big enough to see your entire barnet at once. Space telescopes have big mirrors. They're used for looking at space.

Delinquents. You are the fastest growing young person demographic. You have grandparents younger than me. You have uncles 10 years younger than you. You have cousins that are also aunties. You have enough siblings to fill an entire football team, plus substitutes. Your families are all broken. Your fishwife mums are occasionally rutted by the local villain who may or may not have fathered one of your numerous offspring - they are permanently pregnant between the ages 13 and 45. In short, you kids are dragged up by nasty, drunken, illiterate, violent and uncaring benefit thieves and the world is shocked when you also grow up to be nasty, drunken, illiterate, violent and uncaring benefit thief. Stop looking at my car.

Goths. An absurd way to single yourself out as an individual, by wearing what is essentially a uniform. Conformity personified by a group who have no desire to conform. You would appreciate the irony if you knew what irony was. And don't ask Alanis Morisette, because she don't know either. Emos, If I knew what you were, perhaps you'd get your own paragraph. But I don't. But you look like a slightly less dirty Goth to me. So all that applies to Goths applies to you . You are all tools, and you all look ridiculous.

Precocious rich kids. I hate you most of all. I hate your noses that end at impossible angles, your giant ears and prematurely balding pates. I hate your double-barreled names almost as much as I hate the pullovers you drape over your popped-collar polo shirts. You swim in a gene pool so shallow it's a wonder you can reproduce at all, Descendents of colonial bastards who cracked the whip to the tune of Jerusalem. Using the facade of charity so you can go on a jolly jaunt sailing around Europe or back-packing through Rhodesia, or whatever the local savages call it now. Always praised for your endeavour and spirit by the Daily Mail. That just gives sane folk another reason to hate the Daily Mail. Tarquin, Foie Gras, China White, Chinos and one thousand pound loafers. Cressida, of course you can borrow daddy's old Yacht to sail around the Med. Perhaps you can get a duke of Edinburgh out of it. He's our third cousin after all, so it's the least he could do. Give mummy and daddy a bit of alone time. Boarding school terms are just far too short.

So, to summarise, if you are a teenager I probably hate you. Sorry about that.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.

For some reason, a lot of intelligent, law-abiding citizens have a blind spot on their moral compass the size of Peru when it comes to one particular act of lawlessness, and that is the act of piracy. Whether it be music, videogames or films, all are considered fair game by these mavericks, the swashbuckling heroes sticking 2 fingers up to 'the man' and showing the rest of us up for the conformist, capitalist fools we are. These selfless Robin Hoods rape and stifle the creativity of others in the name of freedom. God bless 'em.

I would be better able to abide pirates if they were able to admit that they were thieves. But despite the fact they are thieves, who may as well run out of HMV with a shedload of CDs stuffed under their jumpers, they refuse to acknowledge this fact. Instead, the same old tired, cliched mitigations and justifications are reeled out by people, disgusted at the fact that they are considered thieves when in fact, they are thieves. And they're not even good or intelligent thieves. They sit there, in their underpants, dribbling all over their keyboard as their withered hands dart back and forth, mouse in hand, randomly downloading everything they can. Below are some of the more common justifications for these acts of theft, that you may hear when dealing with these turgid individuals.

"Other people pay for it, so I don't need to" - If everyone had this attitude, then all these industries would cease to exist tomorrow. Just because other people are propping up your greedy, thieving lifestyle does not justify its continuation. It would be like me strolling up to Curries, wrenching a massive 3D TV off the wall and walking out with it, all the while wearing a smug grin, sniggering at all the other poor fools who actually elect to pay for things they want, rather than just steal them.

"I go to concerts, so it's OK for me to download music for free" - Hmmm. Let's suspend for a minute the disbelief that these cretins who download every new album have seen even 10 percent of the artists whose work they have stolen live, and take it on face value that for all the hundreds of artists they have stolen off of, they have paid to see them all at least once. Even if that was the case, how many of those were seen at festivals where the individual artists get an infinitesimally small percentage of the takings? And what if artists don't want to do in excess of 200 gigs per year, playing in Romford to gurning simians, dodging plastic bottles of Bacardi Breezer? That second album isn't going to happen any time soon. But it's not as if anyone would bother buying it, anyway. Why bother spending all that money on producing and tweaking an album for optimal aural performance, when the only time you will see any money for it is if you play over thousands of grunting morons on a terrible sound system in Norwich?

"Videogames cost too much, that's why I don't pay" - Obviously, the days of paying upwards of 60 pounds in 1989 for a game that lasts mere hours are long forgotten, then. Games take longer, involve more staff and require more of a budget to produce than most movies. They can provide months of entertainment. But that doesn't stop gibbering baboon-brained morons from paying nowt for them. Then they have the audacity to complain when their Xbox 360 is blocked from Xbox Live. Diddums, you cretinous, cro-magnon pikey idiots.

"Film stars are paid too much money, so why should I pay to see them?" - No-one is holding a gun to your head, forcing you to watch these films. If you have such a strong moral objection to the obscene salaries paid out, why not stay at home, and read a book instead, or do all those words and lack of explosions confuse you. You see, the only films that really suffer from your belligerent and quite ridiculous attitude are those from the smaller studios, where low takings for one movie can mothball other forthcoming projects, or close studios altogether. The blockbuster films that pay the silly wages will always prosper, because there will always be intellectually bankrupt retards who will pay top dollar to see Twilight 12 or Fastest and the Furiousest.

No punishment is too great for these thieving gits. Hopefully, in the future there will be harsher sentences bestowed upon these individuals. Perhaps some method of bisecting fingers with inbuilt lasers, should someone attempt to download copyrighted music. Or obliterating the abodes of those downloading the latest shoot-em-up with a Gatling gun. Maybe confiscating all films and TV programmes of a movie download whore, and forcing them to watch episodes of Friends back to back for eternity would work.

In closing, if you don't pay for stuff and just take it, I hate you. All of you, with your smug and somehow morally superior attitude when it comes to your cowardly acts of theft. Here's what will become of our arts if you carry on. In 10 years the music singles chart will be full of X Factor winners, and X Factor runners-up. Attaining a number one will require around a thousand copies sold. Aspiring musicians and people with talent will be forever stuck, stacking shelves at Tesco, waiting for the call that never comes. In cinemas, there will be no films that are not sequels or do not star Shia LeDouche. Videogames will regress to smaller and simpler titles which are cheap to produce, with the exception of FIFA, which will continue to sell billions of copies to the knuckle-draggers. For this is our future, and you retarded arseholes are making sure it happens. Congratulations, you thieving, smug, idiotic bastards.