Dawn of the Dumb
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Polite, pensive, mature, reserved ...Charlie Brooker is none of these things and less. Rude, unhinged, outrageous, and above all funny, "Dawn of the Dumb" is essential reading for anyone with a brain and a spinal cord. And hands for turning the pages.
Picking up where his hilarious "Screen Burn" left off, "Dawn of the Dumb" collects the best of Charlie Brooker's recent TV writing, together with uproarious spleen-venting diatribes on a range of non-televisual subjects - tackling everything from David Cameron to human hair.
random intervals. It’s what the world probably looks like when you get hit on the head with a croquet mallet and it’s fantastic. All in all, Milkshake! offers such a refreshing start to the day, it’s hard to see why anyone would choose to spend time in the company of Eamonn Holmes instead (he’s quitting GMTV of course—probably before he bloats to the point of actually exploding on-screen). Milkshake! could cheer practically anyone up. If Supervolcano plunges you into a trough of despair, tune
alien theme park. Perhaps the last episode will end with the camera pulling back to reveal the whole thing’s been happening inside the brass knee of a gigantic clockwork robot. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Now, several weeks in, perhaps it’s just a big con. I was halfway through this week’s episode when I realised, with a bit of a jolt, that I was finding it profoundly irritating. I stopped wondering about the mysterious island, and started wondering whether Lost itself is worth bothering
consciousness feedback loop, reading aloud their own thoughts about reading their own thoughts aloud. The last one to fall to the ground in a twitching, frothing heap is the winner. And the host? There’s only one candidate. A face at a window. Well, that or Chris Tarrant. Depends who’s available. Too annoyed to save the world [19 May 2006] Faced with a photo of a fly-encrusted child, the natural reaction should be to reach out and help. Instead, I start hearing Bono and Coldplay in my
It’s just that, well, it’s bloody Bono, isn’t it? CHAPTER FIVE In which Noel Edmonds tests quantum theory, Doctor Who turns pornographic, and Adam Rickitt pays tribute to disaster victims by pretending to eat them. The dumbest story ever told [21 January 2006] Hooray! Hooray for Prison Break (Five), because it’s wholly bloody stupid and doesn’t care who knows it! In fact, it’s so ridiculous, it might just single-handedly usher in an all-new golden age of inanity, thereby
work blurred into a mass of speeded-up film and tinkling pianos in my head, none of which seemed the slightest bit amusing. As a result, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the first edition of Paul Merton’s Silent Clowns (BBC4), which examines Keaton’s work in some detail. By the end of the show I was blown away, partly because Merton’s unabashed love for his subject is infectious (and a delight to see), but mainly because the clips themselves are genuinely bloody funny. I used to think