Read Online Charlie Brooker’s Screen Burn by Charlie Brooker - Free Book Online
Authors: Charlie Brooker
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to grumpy old 2000 and welcome the arrival of a sunny, smiling 2001. We could all do with a laugh, so look forward to Simon Munnery’s Attention, Scum (BBC2) and with any luck, a big-budget Jerry Sadowitz Channel Five vehicle that’ll make up for The Jerry Atrick Show being shot on tuppence.
That’s it. Now run along and enjoy yourselves. Oh, and if you only picked this up to watch while digesting your Christmas lunch, then tough: they’re showing Octopussy (ITV).
PART TWO 2001
In which Simon Cowell makes his debut
, Jim Davidson’s
Generation Game
makes a poor impression
, and
Touch the
Truck
heralds a new golden age of television
.
Roly-Poly Piddlebox Paul [6 January]
Got Sky digital? Or an ON Digital box? Yes? Great! Quick! Turn to Discovery Wings – the exciting digital channel dedicated solely to aviation documentaries – you might just get there in time to catch Flight Deck: DC9-41 .
And hoo-boy, it shurrr does sound like a treat: according to the listings it’s an in-depth look at the flight deck of the DC-9 and the MD-80 aircraft. For a whole half-hour! Here’s hoping they show us which button makes the thingy flap do that flappy thing.
Naturally, there’s stiff competition from the other digital stations: why, at any moment you could tickle the remote and watch Yvette Fielding doling out DIY tips in Simply DIY (Granada Breeze), Alan Coxon preparing aubergine fritters in Coxon’s Kitchen College (Carlton Food Network), or Paul Coia sitting in a trough full of urine, rolling marbles down the inside of a scaffolding pole in ‘Roly-Poly Piddlebox Paul’ (Distraction Network).
Of course that Paul Coia vehicle was a figment of my imagination. But you knew that anyway – it was the only one that sounded remotely interesting. Question is, who’s watching the other programmes? Answer: everyone with a digibox – but only for a nanosecond, as they flutter from station to station, grazing acres of vacuum television in search of a watchable programme that somehow never arrives.
Where are they, these elusive nuggets of must-see TV? Somehow they’re never around when you need them. And even when they are, you just can’t latch on. Take tonight’s schedules; at 6.30 p.m. there’s the first-ever episode of Rising Damp on Granada Plus. Should be interesting, but I’ll watch for five minutes before my trigger finger twitches – 6.30 in the evening is too early to settle down to a single channel for a whole half-hour, and besides, aren’t they showing that Bill Murray comedy which doesn’t sound very good, but you might want to watch anyway, on one of the movie channels at the same time? (Yes: The Man Who Knew Too Little , Sky MovieMax.)
Of course, that’s no solution. Lingering at the back of my mind is
the knowledge that said film will be rebroadcast ad nauseam, so I’m under no obligation to watch it right now: one hour in, and during an inevitable slow patch I’m likely to bring up the channel menu and idly browse for an alternative. Ooh: at 7 p. m., Eminem’s choosing two hours of video programming on MTV (EMTV). That’ll stave off the boredom for a moment. I’ll get back to the movie later …
Hundreds of channels in crystal-clear digivision, and I can only procrastinate about the stuff I want to see, even while I’m seeing it. The one thing I would stay put for is a welcome repeat of It’s Garry Shandlings’s Show on the Paramount Comedy Channel – but that’s on at 3 a. m., and I’m not that carefree nocturnal scamp I used to be. I need pre-midnight dazzlement.
So I slump there, static, staring, prodding, fritzing one image onto the next. An MTV video ends and an advert begins: a soft-metal compilation with a leather-clad catwoman pirouetting through a warehouse of fire and chains. At one minute long, it’s too much to bear. Fetch the remote and enter freefall. There goes Knots Landing . There’s a man grilling tuna. She’s pretty. Don’t want to buy one
That’s it. Now run along and enjoy yourselves. Oh, and if you only picked this up to watch while digesting your Christmas lunch, then tough: they’re showing Octopussy (ITV).
PART TWO 2001
In which Simon Cowell makes his debut
, Jim Davidson’s
Generation Game
makes a poor impression
, and
Touch the
Truck
heralds a new golden age of television
.
Roly-Poly Piddlebox Paul [6 January]
Got Sky digital? Or an ON Digital box? Yes? Great! Quick! Turn to Discovery Wings – the exciting digital channel dedicated solely to aviation documentaries – you might just get there in time to catch Flight Deck: DC9-41 .
And hoo-boy, it shurrr does sound like a treat: according to the listings it’s an in-depth look at the flight deck of the DC-9 and the MD-80 aircraft. For a whole half-hour! Here’s hoping they show us which button makes the thingy flap do that flappy thing.
Naturally, there’s stiff competition from the other digital stations: why, at any moment you could tickle the remote and watch Yvette Fielding doling out DIY tips in Simply DIY (Granada Breeze), Alan Coxon preparing aubergine fritters in Coxon’s Kitchen College (Carlton Food Network), or Paul Coia sitting in a trough full of urine, rolling marbles down the inside of a scaffolding pole in ‘Roly-Poly Piddlebox Paul’ (Distraction Network).
Of course that Paul Coia vehicle was a figment of my imagination. But you knew that anyway – it was the only one that sounded remotely interesting. Question is, who’s watching the other programmes? Answer: everyone with a digibox – but only for a nanosecond, as they flutter from station to station, grazing acres of vacuum television in search of a watchable programme that somehow never arrives.
Where are they, these elusive nuggets of must-see TV? Somehow they’re never around when you need them. And even when they are, you just can’t latch on. Take tonight’s schedules; at 6.30 p.m. there’s the first-ever episode of Rising Damp on Granada Plus. Should be interesting, but I’ll watch for five minutes before my trigger finger twitches – 6.30 in the evening is too early to settle down to a single channel for a whole half-hour, and besides, aren’t they showing that Bill Murray comedy which doesn’t sound very good, but you might want to watch anyway, on one of the movie channels at the same time? (Yes: The Man Who Knew Too Little , Sky MovieMax.)
Of course, that’s no solution. Lingering at the back of my mind is
the knowledge that said film will be rebroadcast ad nauseam, so I’m under no obligation to watch it right now: one hour in, and during an inevitable slow patch I’m likely to bring up the channel menu and idly browse for an alternative. Ooh: at 7 p. m., Eminem’s choosing two hours of video programming on MTV (EMTV). That’ll stave off the boredom for a moment. I’ll get back to the movie later …
Hundreds of channels in crystal-clear digivision, and I can only procrastinate about the stuff I want to see, even while I’m seeing it. The one thing I would stay put for is a welcome repeat of It’s Garry Shandlings’s Show on the Paramount Comedy Channel – but that’s on at 3 a. m., and I’m not that carefree nocturnal scamp I used to be. I need pre-midnight dazzlement.
So I slump there, static, staring, prodding, fritzing one image onto the next. An MTV video ends and an advert begins: a soft-metal compilation with a leather-clad catwoman pirouetting through a warehouse of fire and chains. At one minute long, it’s too much to bear. Fetch the remote and enter freefall. There goes Knots Landing . There’s a man grilling tuna. She’s pretty. Don’t want to buy one
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