| Wednesday, August 14, 2002 |
 | Vaughan has shattered all my dreams about ITV Nightscreen:
isn't it just Teletext pages with music? Didn't they used to do Jobscreen, which was much the same thing but with jobs? And Pornscreen, which was much the same thing again, but with really blocky-pixel pictures of softcore pornography?
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! This is an incredible disappointment (except possibly the bit about Pornscreen, which makes me strangely content). It's just "Pages from Ceefax" with a swanky name?
I was expecting a programme designed with the greatest possible care, as a reward for those who had beaten the end-of-level baddie that is ever going to sleep ever, where provincial French chefs produce without fuss meals the beauty of which would make Jamie Oliver look yet uglier, while a panel led by Derrida and Simon Armitage discussed the upcoming TV and occasionally took time out to share facts so whimsical and yet so perfect that you had a little smile on your face for the rest of the day. Instead pages from arseviscerating Ceefax. Or, more precisely, shitting fucking twatting Oracle.
I tell you, it's no surprise that there are more murders now than there were during the Blitz. Or words to that effect.
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