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Funny story, I start watching Casino Royale on Channel 7 on Sunday night.
The film starts, and I've not noticed a small icon in the bottom right corner of the screen. Mrs AerHead points it out to me, and there, in all its shameless glory, it is.
Oh, f*ck me, FlashForward is on tomorrow night. Wowsers, it's on at 8.30pm. Thank you very much shameless icon. I did not know that. Thanks, and now please vacate my TV screen.
Mrs AerHead is absolutely livid. This little icon, trying desparately to be polite in the bottom right corner, remains there the whole time, during a fight, a chase scene, even during a brilliant scene where Daniel Craig actually runs through a wall. I love that scene, it's just so crap.
Then there's an ad break. And a reminder ad that FlashForward is on tomorrow night. Yes, you've told us. Monday night. 8.30pm. I might watch, I might not. I am not, however, a completely unforgetful goldfish of a pr*ck. F*ck off.
The film starts again. Phew! The icon isn't there. Then I glance over at my cat, Alan, who is doing something cute with a ball of aluminium foil. Pretending it's a mouse from the future, or some such.
Guess what happens next? If you've guessed that Alan starts doing the robot dance, you've guessed wrong (but I love your thinking). What happens next is much, much worse. The polite little shameless f*ck of an icon is back on the screen!
What's that? Oh, FlashForward is on tomorrow night, oh great... useful. 8.30pm, just after tea-time, that's good. Thanks for the tip. Where have I heard that before? Oh yeah - all the f*cking time, that's all. Now, f*ck off shameless little repetitive greaseball of an icon, my cat's more entertaining than you, and she's a girl cat with a boy's name. My cat = my rules.
This continues. There's another ad break, the film returns sans icon, Alan has gone outside for a wee and a bit of a scratch. Now, geez, it will not return will it?
Not the cat, the icon.
Will it return? I will not have to smash the TV through a real wall in an expensive though satisfying pastiche of the crap scene I love in Casino Royale will I? Will the TV smash through the wall, or will it smash against the wall? Will it break? What is it about Daniel Craig's body that enables it to go through walls that my telly couldn't?
Oh, I might have to find out, because there it is again. Sitting there politely is the icon, pointing out its bland information to all those who didn't see it earlier; all those cretins who enjoy joining films half an hour after they've started, and didn't know that FlashForward was on 8.30pm on Monday night. Lot's of those types about you know, normally found sitting on park benches grinning at pigeons, throwing pieces of bread from their snot-crusted wrists.
So I'm a bit annoyed about all this. And it reminded me a bit of the annoyance I felt after reading the crystal ball gazing by Another Advertising W*nker, who postulated on the potential growth of apps on TV. Crap breakfast shows I can cope with. Because I don't watch them.
But films? Jeez, ad breaks are bad enough, so if this is what we can expect I will be getting rid of my TV altogether because the few things I want to watch I will gladly pay for. This is base, stupid, gutless marketing. Repeat ad nauseum. Puke.
So, of course I knew FlashForward was on. And, much like the participants of the Milgram experiment who knew they were administering a fatal electrical shock to someone else, I obeyed authority (the icon) and watched anyway.
But I didn't get beyond the opening ten minutes because I was tired and bored, and I didn't really believe that real people actually speak like that. So I read a good book, had a glass of vino, and picked up Alan from the psychologist.
And you know what else: F*ck FlashForward.
*** Update ***
5 minutes after writing this, FlashForward started following me on Twitter. When is it on again?