I’d just like to stay with the televisual theme for a little while, which is appropriate as THERE IS NOTHING ELSE WE’RE ALLOWED TO DO without risking arrest. And its almost a case in point, having referred to the addictive nature of even the most banal, trite, trivial, mindless and almost brain-dead of tv offerings. And nothing exemplifies all those adjectives more than ‘Married at First Sight’. For current purposes (as its the only ones I’ve seen) we’ll deal with the ‘Australia’ sub-group of the species.

The premise or ‘experiment’ as they loftily call such a shag-fest in Australia, is a simple one. Take two people who’ve never met before, tick a few ‘dating app’ type boxes and let them meet ‘under the alter’ for the first time. What could possibly go wrong? Ok, its not a ‘real’, like, ‘legally binding’ wedding, but there’s white dresses and top hats and families and rings and stuff.

Then they spend time working out whether they actually like their new ‘mate’. (In all senses of that word, particularly in Australia). Oh, and rather than get bored watching one couple making tea and arguing about toilet seats for 3 hours, there’s 10 couples. All living through various forms of optimism, delusion, frustration, realisation and disappointment. Loads of disappointment.

The younger daughter is temporarily back with us from her new native Berlin and when not working she can often be found in front of the tv upon which are groups of young people slagging each other off. There are 4,652 programs involving such social studies, all of them totally moronic.

Except Married at First Sight. Which is brilliant. Because these people are Australians. The nation least in touch with its emotional side. Where, if men have empathy for women it manifests itself by the purchase of a bottle of white wine to accompany the 54 crates of beer. The place where, if men ‘get’ women at all, they have to keep quiet about it. They don’t ‘wear their heart on their sleeve’, unless its a tattoo and the heart in question has a dagger through it.

So now we ‘binge’ on this series. Only as a study, NOT because we like it in any way. We watch it, even though its way beneath us, as an intellectual exercise in what rubbish ‘other people’ might watch.

So for God’s sake, DON’T watch MaFS. One minute is too much. 47 hours not enough.

Happy binge-watching

A xxxx