My first act of the new year is to make a more sophisticated irrigation system with bin bags, funnel and plastic tube, which will hopefully channel the water directly into the sink. This takes about an hour and fills me with what would be a warm glow of achievement were it not for the fact that the whole thing is stupid. Still those hours of playing Mousetrap and studying the illustrations of William Heath Robinson have paid off at last.
I sit on the sofa and immediately fall asleep for a couple of hours. The traditionally awful television surpasses itself. The highlight of the day is a seventeen-year-old episode of Miss Marple (is it just me or does Miss Marple not do very much except act as an occasional Old Lady ex machina?) and an episode of Columbo from about ten years ago – not quite up to par, but Columbo nonetheless.
Throughout this I’m drifting in and out of consciousness (for which I blame the cold again, of course) and this disrupts my viewing pleasure, especially when I put a Seinfeld tape on and find myself watching the beginning of one programme and (after a period of slumber) the end of another. Oh, they also show Diamonds Are Forever which I consider (despite the fact that it was the first James Bond movie I saw) to be not so much the last Sean Connery as the first Roger Moore, with Connery standing in. I only watch a bit of it, anyway. I suppose people like them because they come from a time when misogyny, homophobia and racism weren’t just acceptable but somehow glamorous. That said it all looks as naff as Crossroads now.
I don’t know why I watch as much of the Channel Four Sex and the City evening as I do. Possibly it’s the same instinct that inspires the Disgusteds of Tunbridge Wells to religiously video all the programmes that the Daily Mail say will appal them, so that they might be properly offended. There does seem to be a logical flaw in the way the programme is constructed – possibly it’s an attempt for the demographic at whom the programme is aimed to have it both ways, simultaneously seeing it as “realistic” and “fantasy”, so anything that doesn’t quite work is excused, somehow, and the viewer can simutaneously indulge in a a fantasy existence and at the same time have their prejudices confirmed (it functions therefore in exactly the same way as magazines like Cosmopolitan). Possibly it has to do with money and where it comes from. Like Buffy and Queer As Folk I tend to think that it has been over-rated, but then I’m just a grumpy old straight bloke, so what do I know?