I know I've been fairly quiet recently, but the truth is that I watched such a barrage of rubbish on Wednesday night that I felt seriously disturbed and had to take to my bed for a few days. I should have taken the fact that Davina was the first programme I attempted to watch as an omen that something was terribly wrong, turned the gogglebox off and pursued more erudite activities. Instead I watched that grimacing woman like a fool, mesmerised by her ability as an interviewer to be both sycophantic and completely self-obsessed at the same time. The Apprentice obviously lifted my spirits, but then the evening went rapidly downhill in a flurry of Club Reps: The Workers, Footballer's Wives (not a patch on the previous series) and Young, Posh and Loaded. Such was the lobe-ache caused that I ended up monging in front of Quizmania and Dare, both late-night offerings which aim to fleece your wallet through stupifying your brain. Young, Posh and Loaded was quite funny though. We met Olly Milton, a nouveau riche and morbidly obese teen who is proud to announce that he "goes to university at Oxford" - although fails to mention he means Oxford Brookes. Olly is living proof that money doesn't buy you happiness, let alone influence or intellect. He threw two parties during the course of the show, one in Barbados, and yet was still unable to find enough friends to come to them. Perhaps this has something to do with what a first-class twat he is. His second party ended at 10.30 pm - about half an hour after it started - at which point he threw his guests out because he was tired. Only a character such as Olly Milton can actually make you feel nostalgic for Bruno de Cadanet.
Last night though The IT Crowd finally became funny to me, and My Name is Earl continued to prove that it's one of the best comedies on TV. What I love about the latter is how perfect a single episode is. Each week the show stands alone; the plot is involved but resolves, and the jokes are good (ie. Earl's ex-wife tells him that his best friend will not be attending his birthday drink, on which day she has competitively planned her wedding, because, "I've given him a twenty dollar gift voucher for Patti the daytime hooker"). The IT Crowd isn't exactly Father Ted but nor is it Shoot the Writers, and for that we must be thankful.
Charlie Brooker, my anti-hero, started a new show about TV on BBC4 this week (not BBC3, you note, the channel of the devil). Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe is my new favourite thing, the King of shows about telly, to which Harry Hill's TV Burp must now play the queen. I was pleased to see that he picked out the "LIKE ME! LOVE ME! PLEASE, PLEASE PISS ON ME!" presenting style of Justin Lee Collins, whom he contrasted unfavourably with Jakob Brunowski. JLC is the embodiment of annoying - when is someone going to put that bovine, bumpkin Jamie B out of his misery so that he can hang up his fool's motley and go and work in the Sunny Delight factory where he belongs? Anyway, watch out for Charlie Brooker on Thursdays, he's pure, bilious fun.
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