THE proliferation in recent years of events preceded by the word "Awards" has diluted their significance to such a degree that most, if not all, of these ceremonies have become just another jolly, attended by B grade "celebs", desperate for publicity and attention. How sad.

Take Sunday's ITV Celebrity Awards in London when we reached the nadir in such vainglory. A list of the most unlikely award winners was revealed to the waiting nation, confirming what I have long suspected -- that organisers of these shindigs believe it is now possible to fool all of the people, all of the time.

Prince William won the award for sexiest male. Yes, that's correct. Viewers who voted in the various categories named William sexiest male. Give over. What about Brad Pitt? Tom Cruise? Johnny Depp? Jack Sugden? William may be the quintessential polo-playing "Brit" -- good teeth, straight back, clear-eyed, fresh-faced -- but put him and me side by side at the Palais and I'd get more dances. Not just with the ladies, either. Someone called Rachel Stevens won sexiest female. Apparently she's a singer from S Club, the location of which is unfamiliar to me but I don't think it's in Lancashire. It must be south of Watford, where all the winners live, including those who speculate on Lotto, the Pools and Premium Bonds.

Rachel may very well be sexy but it's making a hell of a claim to say she's the atomic bomb of females. What is "sexy" anyway? Are we to assume that Ms Stevens, delightful though she may be, exudes more oomph than Sophia Loren, Carol Vorderman or Tracy Barlow? Could she cause a battalion of lustful males to salivate the way that those three do? I very much doubt it.

It got worse at the Celebrity Awards. Simon Cowell, who puts wannabe pop stars through the mangle on primetime television, exposing them to ridicule and acid put-downs while accumulating a shedful of cash for himself, was named celebrity of the year. Isn't that rather like making Osama Bin Laden and George Dubya Bush joint heads of The International Peace Corps?

A segment of sanity was introduced when Olympic double gold medal winner Kelly Holmes took sports star of the year for her marvellous achievements in Athens. I would have named her sexiest female, too. I haven't seen Rachel Stevens in running gear but if she looks better than Kelly Holmes then I will pack up and shut up.

We hit rock bottom when Nadia Almada, the transsexual from the execrable Big Brother 5, won reality star of the year, a category which goes some way towards explaining the collective IQ of the organisers and the people who watched the show where Nadia triggered such a groundswell of support.

Apparently Nadia is making a pop record, cashing in on fame while it lasts. Who can blame her/him. The company behind this enterprise will probably suggest a disco version of the plaintive ballad of lost love called You've Changed. Perhaps Nadia could ask Mr Cowell for help and advice. After all, both are celebrities and have the awards to prove it.

Take me now, God.