CAROLINE Flack opened the series by proclaiming: “This is the year of change with a whole new X Factor family.”

She wasn’t kidding. It is indeed a year of change.

A change from the show having a viable future to it not having a viable future.

The writing is on the wall after a calamitous opening weekend for this creaking dinosaur whose audience reached a record low on Sunday night.

The arrogant over-confidence of everyone involved that led Simon Cowell to declare Peter Andre’s Strictly Come Dancing didn’t stand a chance against it came back to bite them on the bum.

In fact it tore away most of a buttock.

So, what exactly went so horribly wrong so quickly?

Well, the first and most obvious thing to point out is that it hasn’t happened quickly.

X Factor has been sinking into the mire for years.

The decline has been terminal since they replaced fun with sob stories and tears.

Some of the changes for series 12, though, have accelerated the slide into a crisis, starting with the panel.

We now have Simon, Squiddly, Diddly and Piddly.

I’ve never understood the appeal of “national treasure” Cheryl Fernandez-Versini, who has developed a Wembley roof obsession.

Mel B may have been hateful but at least she was opinionated, unlike her bland replacement from The Voice, Rita Ora.

And while Louis Walsh’s time was rightly up, DJ Nick Grimshaw may have the swagger but he’s got the wit of an electric toaster.

It’s easy to say he’s gone from losing Radio One about one million listeners to losing X Factor two million viewers, but he’s clearly only part of a bigger malfunctioning wheel, the most successful cog of which is Olly Murs and Flack doing Ant and Dec’s routine in the wings.

Ditching the intimate room auditions (again) and allowing gigantic screen videos and backing dancers destroys the entire point.

We can’t be part of that essential “journey” where a hopeful blossoms into a star if they’re a ready-made pop act, like Filipino sisters Fourth Power.

That’s how we invest in the show.

Crucially, the talent pool is parched, leaving an endless parade of adequacy, despite the judges’ gushing claptrap and unwarranted standing ovations.

Listening to them you’d think they’d found the next 25 entrants into Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Fame.

Unfortunately for ITV, we all see through it now. We’re wise to the baloney. It’s why so many have switched off.

The annoying thing is it doesn’t have to be like this.

Opening act “Techno” Susan Pryce, Pole Adriana Deco’s backwards chicken dancing to Boogie Wonderland, Woman (of Man and Woman) making a rogue bid to go solo, and Latvian flamingo Zaiga Melke asking Simon Cowell his name were a true joy.

But old habits (sob stories) die hard. And Cowell’s very personal grief over his late mum, on Sunday night, dished up as primetime entertainment sticks in the throat more than anything this cynical money-making enterprise has ever served up.

It’s a shameful, hugely misguided chapter in TV history.

Not knowing whether to console or leave him alone, Cheryl asked: “What should I do? Should I go? Should I stay?”

Go, Cheryl. And take Rita and Grimmy with you.

Spudulikes…

Blue Whale Live’s sea otter pups.

Danny Baker biopic Cradle To Grave.

Special Forces: Ultimate Hell Week’s cocky Brookes wussing out on day one and made to ring the bell of failure.

Celeb Big Bro attention seeker Janice Dickinson’s fake diary-room fit from a bee sting.

Jim Rosenthal’s earnest Flockstars commentary as the geese arrived: “It’s the Embdens!”

The star of BBC2’s charming Country Strife: Abz on the Farm using his Brit award as a door stop, plus this narration: “Vicky and Abz call in local drainage contractor Roger Moore,” who’s fallen on hard times since losing his double-0 licence.

And EastEnders one-hit wonder Vincent “Richard Blackwood” Hubbard: “One minute you’re somebody everybody wants to know. The next?” The next, you’re sat on a This Morning trolley in a dressing gown with Dr Chris’s finger up your backside, aren’t you, Richard?

Spuduhates…

Corrie matching EastEnders’ misery with Hope’s cancer, Simon’s mum-bashing and, even worse, Shayne Ward’s acting.

C5 failing to learn from the last Celebrity Big Brother and filling the house with stroppy, shouty nobodies.

Big Blue Live host Matt Baker’s expert commentary as a blue whale showed up 15 minutes from the series end: “How blue it is.” Yes, Matt. And whaley.

And EastEnders’ Carol Jackson failing to mention winning £25 by matching three Lotto numbers. And yes, I have been checking them every week since she and Billy revealed their numbers, and that neither had won a penny, on their date on March 10. In case you were wondering.