It’s all over for another year! David Marren takes us through the final of The Apprentice.

So that is it all over then and thank God for that!

If the Apprentice serves just one worthwhile service it is that it acts as a reminder to those not borne of the corporate sector just how fortunate they are. If this is the cream of young British entrepreneurship then, as a country, we are corporately fucked.

Deluded self assurance and lack of imagination should have featured strongly on the business plans and CV’s of last night’s four finalists instead of the drivel they came up with. For all the bluster and suited swagger of the last twelve weeks when it came down to it their vision for the future was so underwhelming that the series’ catch phrase shifted from ”ËœYou’re fired’ to- the more suited to the series in general-”ËœYou’re tired’.

Yes, the future of Britain’s corporate structure could come up with little more than Tom’s hedge fund for wine buffs-vile-,Jade’s cold-calling centre- vile and morally reprehensible-, Nick’s online ingredients for recipes- yawn- and Ricky’s recruitment centre for scientists- zzzzz.

So uninspiring were the business plans that for a moment I almost-only almost, mind- felt a pang of sympathy for Sid James doppelganger Sir Lord Sugar for having to choose the least naff idea as the recipient of his £250,000 loose change.

As it was, Jade’s plans for a cold-calling centre was seen as the unfunny joke it was immediately and it was clear that even Sir Lord would never align himself with such an obnoxious scheme. Not publicly or on national television at least.

Likewise Nick’s idea for recipes was a non-starter-even if he did believe the initial investment would engender income of £145 million within several years- but it was worth keeping him on just to see whether he grew into his 12 year old haircut or at least work out how to wear it the right way round.

It was down to Tom’s posh fund for already rich people or the ridiculously monikered Ricky Martin’s narcolepsy inducing recruitment agency then to claim the booty. In the end Ricky won out and perhaps the first pharmacists he should seek out are those who can create a pill to prevent an audience from falling asleep during overly long and painful to watch reality programmes which have long ago run their course.

Surely this series has proved that the Apprentice is a tired formula and even switching the premise from Lord Sir seeking an employee to a partner has done little to alleviate proceedings.

The contestants are too self conscious and well aware that those losing it, backstabbing and bitching paint themselves in a bad light and thus in order to save their skins and stand a chance these traits have been diluted to the point of non-existence.

Unfortunately these traits were the main reason for watching-schadenfreude is a national state of being and a source of pride and joy- and without them the programme is basically a bunch of polyester suited corporate cannibals going through the motions which can be observed in any office throughout the country.

As noted before; The Apprentice ”ËœYou’re tired!’

All words by David Marren. You can read more from David here.

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