Posts Tagged ‘Robson Green’

OK. This is enough reason to have Pay TV. But only just.

Over the years, those so-obliging and ever-so-clever clever cable people have gradually got me to add more and more channels to my box, until now I have a vast incoming feed of every possible type of TV programme imaginable.

I have been talked into every money-saving pack on offer. My monthly Foxtel subscription now rivals the Greek debt.

I can now watch re-runs of Iron Chef America on three different channels. (Bobby Flay, if you make that chipotle sauce one more time I have you taken out, I swear. And what the fuck is chipotle anyway?)

I have seen every episode of “Extreme Fishing”  at least three times. (Admittedly Robson Green does make me laugh a lot.)

And watching early episodes of Midsomer Murders before John Nettles’ face became so rigidly, brilliantly expressive that he could convey the guts of an entire scene with just the tweak of one facial muscle and an exhalation of a long-held breath does give one an interesting insight into the growth of an actor’s craft.

But in general, what is served up is total crap. Last night, at 10.03 pm, I had to concede that there wasn’t a single programme on I wanted to watch, on any channel. Furtively, my eyes even travelled across the room to the bookshelf. I couldn’t, could I?

This is the bread and circuses of today. Mindless, brain numbing, threatening to drag one down into a morass, a pit, an abyss, filled with mental confetti and candy floss, drizzled with sticky engine oil, in which we become stuck, never to escape. Cloying, suffocating, deadly.

You can almost hear the executives and politicians chanting their mantra quietly as they watch us sitting in traffic jams on the freeway, gazing affectionately at us from their gleaming glass and steel eyries. Work hard, spend up big, go home, switch your brain off. Work hard, spend up big, go home, switch your brain off.

You know why they don’t need troops on the barricades to keep us quiet any more. They have pay TV.

Emilia Clarke as the Khaleesi in Game of Thrones

Turn it off. Go outside. You know it makes sense.

And its not even good crap. For every Game of Thrones (“Oh! Khaleesi! Be still my beating heart!”) we have to endure a “Restoration Nightmare”, “Vanished”, “Jersey Shore”, “Teen Mom”, “16 and Pregnant”, even some unbelievable pap called “Entertainment Tonight” – surely that show should be done under the Trades Descriptions Act?

And, of course, those fucking Kardashians – a cipher for our modern age if ever there was one – in any one of 17 universally brain numbing, over-made-up but subtly different incarnations. ” Where are we doing this series, Hun? I know, let’s do Paris!”

Anyway. (Deep breath.) So when I saw the artwork below, I am afraid I could not resist reproducing it.

Feel free to do the same, on WordPress, Facebook, wherever. And well done to whoever is behind, who dreamed it up, I guess. One image can make all the difference.

Who knows, we could start a small revolution. Or a big one. I am even going to positively discriminate against advertisers who allow their ads to be run – ad nauseam, as if that helps – in the middle of TV shows with no redeeeming social, artistic, news or dramatic content, merely because the shows “deliver” an audience. The fact that the audience is half-sitting, half-lying, in a catatonic near-brain-dead state incapable of taking in information because their alpha and beta waves have been driven inexorably downwards to a negligible level is all the more reason to boycott those who support such nonsense.

Yes, I know it’s all a matter of opinion. But you know what? I’ve spent a lifetime honing my opinions, and they count.

A scientific survey will not be required. I will make my own mind up. If millions of us switched brands because we resent advertisers wasting their margin (which is passed onto us as consumers as increased prices, of course) by advertising in the middle of shows that merely pollute our lives then sooner or later they’d actually look at the schedules provided by their media buying agencies and express an opinion. Starved of funds, the worst shows would struggle. And eventually close.

Every act of resistance has meaning. This is mine. Join me?

You know it.

Not one Chop-o-Matic but two … just $49.95 … there’s a pattern here … no, don’t tell me … it’s a ritual thing … it only occurs late at night … wait, I’m seeing it.

Late night TV and mild insomnia has certain advantages. One is the questionable opportunity to watch those truly dreadful direct response TV ads that endear themselves to you – not – by interrupting the otherwise excellent Wire in the Blood with Robson Green.

What I really love are those ads for kitchen tools that you will never use, and if you did they would break in an instant, and even if they didn’t, you know full well that your new Cut-o-Matics never, ever going to turn out perfect diced carrots, sliced apples, curly-fries and whatever, because once in your hands all such devices turn into weapons of vegetable destruction. They are going to reduce all your veggies to mush, and take the ends of three of your fingers for good measure. But never matter, they look good. And at $49,95, you have to admit it’s a real snip, containing, as it does, at least 20 cents worth of prime Chinese plastic.

But look at this! If I call in the next five minutes (How about in six minutes? Would you turn me down? Really? Now, really?) I’ll get not one but two Cut-o-Matics for one quick and easy payment of $49.95.

OK. See, this is my problem. I could hardly make use of one Cut-o-Matic, really, because I can’t see why one can’t just use a knife and a chopping board, and now you want to send me two. What am I supposed to do with the second one? I haven’t got room for one on my kitchen bench top, let alone two. Give it away? What type of guy do you think I am? I can see that being re-gifted in a heartbeat, despite its amazing seven interchangeable blades and easy-clean interior, or perhaps because of them.

Why not just sell me one Cut-o-Matic for $24.98? Seriously. I need to know this. I realise now I have always needed to know.

Lower price point, bigger take up, surely?

I am not going to sleep tonight unless I work this out. Please. Gods of direct advertising. Tell … me …!

If you tell me in the next five minutes, I’ll post this identical blog tomorrow as well. Now can I say fairer than that, Guv?

PS There really are devices called Cut-O-Matics in the world, something to do with slicing paper and cardboard, and I am sure they are really, really nice and work well. And I suspect people only buy them one at a time. This isn’t, er, that. Do not sue me. Thank you.