I’ve got scabs on my retinas. That’s because I’ve spent a weekend in the company of The X Factor and the spin-off shows (various times, various ITV channels) and was treated to the most eye-ball stripping show I’ve ever seen. From the minute the show starts with its high-octane, heart palpatating music, with it’s flaming sent-from-ye-gods symbol evaporating the very clouds that protect us from the sun, to the garish light show of the stage, to the judges impossibly white gnashers, my eyes were destined to be damaged forever.

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It’s incredibly easy to knock The X Factor. In fact, it’s incredibly lazy and boring to moan about it. I should know… I’ve spent years doing it, and with no good reason. Okay, that might not be strictly true as, in previous years, Cowell and Co have knocked out some seriously dicky anti-pop – charmless balladeering with cut and paste videos.

However, lately, something in the wind has changed. Alexandra Burke has gone from doing big production covers of Leonard Cohen songs to making smart, sassy pop with ace choruses. In Cheryl Cole, we’ve seen the transformation of a much loathed woman to something of a people’s champion. The show has realised that success lies in the thread of Girls Aloud and Sugababes styled pop, rather than faux-Angels croons.

They’ve even decided to stop the whole Approved Sob Story thing too.

While some of the old niggles remain from previous series, the 2009 X Factor has come slap-bang in the middle of a golden period of pop music. Rock music has become beige and pop is fast becoming the new alternative. It’s more unfashionable to say you like ‘Fight For This Love’ than it is to proclaim your love for some Mojo approved dadrock.

As such, the thrill of watching the mind-bending gruesome twosome of Jedward vastly outweighs the supposed joy of seeing some Real Musician playing their guitar, making Real Music.

The Jedward car-wreck is engrossing casual viewers of the show and, in turn, switching them on to the soap opera of the rest of the show. Rachel, Olly, Lucie and whoever else are making Music On TV interesting and fun. The unlikely booting out of Miss Frank at the weekend was infinitely more exciting than watching pretty much all of the Glastonbury Festival coverage.

There’s a drama and hammed-up tension in the world of X Factor that is only really seen elsewhere in the world of sports. Whilst sporting events are unpredictable and slaves to the weather, X Factor creates a universe all of its own… a universe where Absolutely Everything Feels Like A Matter Of Life And Death, yet, simultaneously, knowing that its sole purpose is for F.U.N.

The judges spats, the brash production and the huge songs sometimes don’t hit the spot, but even then, as a televisual spectacles, it’s pretty much impossible to resist. If there’s any worry about our opening ceremony in the London Olympics, the organisers should just hand the whole thing over to ITV/Simon Cowell/X Factor to make the most dazzling, brain frazzling show ever staged in a stadium.

For now at least, we get a weekly fix of a show that jolts people to life, be it through anger or joining in with the sheer fun of it. Now the mawk has gone, The X Factor is truly the best thing that’s been shown on weekend television ever. EVER.