By Damien Whinnery

It makes you unhealthy, boring, socially inept and has become something many people now deny indulging in at all. Yes, I’m talking about television.

Aside from more than a few ‘the lady (or bloke) doth protest too much’ disassociating claims, the latest fashionable meme flitting around indie discos is “I only watch a few programmes that are actually worth seeing”. A defence I thought I had personally originated before hearing a number of peers offering the same treatise on their viewing habits and greasing my grip on the thought.

Viewing figures have decreased by around 2% in the last 15 years or so, but this is largely a result of watching on the Internet and the rise in the life-sucking box set. I don’t think we do actually watch less, we just watch differently.

So, being the cutting edge journalist that I am, I’ve decided to coin a new phrase to clumsily compress the new pick ‘n’ mix manner in which we now view the haunted fish tank into one easy to remember phrase – I call it… Deli-vision. Brilliant, I know.

The TV schedule is now more a la carte than a set menu as we, the metaphorical cucumbers, dip our faces in the myriad audio/visual hummus being offered by the scheduling chefs.

However, my time in front of the television, which of course is very little as I lead an otherwise exciting and dynamic life, is mostly spent in the schedule menu as I search for something juicy to appear.

In fact, even when I do find something challenging and engaging enough to sedate my inner ‘get up and do something’ alarm, I’m still kicking around the in-screen menu in case I’m missing something better.

Fortunately, my ongoing struggles with decision theory have given me a gift. I’ve now developed a taste for unconventional tele, be it very good or very bad and my wading through the surf has turned up more than a few shiny pearls that have escaped mass attention.

So, hence forth, I’ll be bringing you a weekly deli-visual petite dejeuner and you can salivate over the tasty morsels I’ve found stuck between the schedule’s teeth.

I’m a tele toothpick, you could say.

It’s a metaphor that just keeps giving, it really is. This and more, next week.

By Damien Whinnery

It makes you unhealthy, boring, socially inept and has become something many people now deny indulging in at all. Yes, I’m talking about television.

Aside from more than a few ‘the lady (or bloke) doth protest too much’ disassociating claims, the latest fashionable meme flitting around indie discos is “I only watch a few programmes that are actually worth seeing”. A defence I thought I had personally originated before hearing a number of peers offering the same treatise on their viewing habits and greasing my grip on the thought.

Viewing figures have decreased by around 2% in the last 15 years or so, but this is largely a result of watching on the Internet and the rise in the life-sucking box set. I don’t think we do actually watch less, we just watch differently.

So, being the cutting edge journalist that I am, I’ve decided to coin a new phrase to clumsily compress the new pick ‘n’ mix manner in which we now view the haunted fish tank into one easy to remember phrase – I call it… Deli-vision. Brilliant, I know.

The TV schedule is now more a la carte than a set menu, as we, the metaphorical cucumbers, dip our faces in the myriad audio/visual hummus being offered by the scheduling chefs.

However, my time in front of the television, which of course is very little as I lead an otherwise exciting and dynamic life, is mostly spent in the schedule menu as I search for something juicy to appear.

In fact, even when I do find something challenging and engaging enough to sedate my inner ‘get up and do something’ alarm, I’m still kicking around the in-screen menu in case I’m missing something better.

Fortunately, my ongoing struggles with decision theory have given me a gift. I’ve now developed a taste for unconventional tele, be it very good or very bad and my wading through the surf has turned up more than a few shiny pearls that have escaped mass attention.

So, hence forth, I’ll be bringing you a weekly deli-visual petite dejeuner and you can salivate over the tasty morsels I’ve found stuck between the schedule’s teeth.

I’m a tele toothpick, you could say.

It’s a metaphor that just keeps giving, it really is. This and more, next week.