One of the many pleasures of television is that it allows us to forget our manners: we can treat it with an impolite offhandedness that would not be considered sociable — or sensible — in the run of everyday life. This isn’t a vicarious enjoyment of bad behaviour that we see on screen, but an actual enjoyment in loosening our own collars: when I watch television I can be fickle (a one-night stand with Downton Abbey), greedy (a Simpsons triple-bill), blunt (‘That sweater is repulsive’), or lazy (Nigel Slater’s Dish of the Day instead of the real thing) without guilt or consequence. ‘Relaxing in front of the telly’ means giggling, interrupting, contradicting or complaining as the mood strikes; it means adoring someone who is just plain silly, or going to bed when someone fails to amuse — without the nagging dread of an awkward breakfast.
This week, after having been reminded of the slow but inevitable degradation of the universe (more of which later), I trawled the TV schedules for the welcome distractions of comedy. There is a lot of it about: some new (Me and Mrs Jones, Hebburn), some familiar (Miranda) and some that I have missed (Friday Night Dinner, Fresh Meat, Getting On). During Fresh Meat (Tuesday, Channel 4), at precisely the moment my brain decided that this sort of idiocy was really not at all funny, I was surprised by a rare and curious sound. It was something like the sorrowful call of a lost migrating goose, and I looked up in confusion — before realising that in fact I had laughed out loud.
Now, let’s not get carried away: while every laugh is welcome, not all are born equal. There is the horrified gasp (The Thick of It, Peep Show), the admiring chuckle (Mad Men), the applauding salute (Have I Got News for You), the sympathetic mewl (Rev), and the unexpected honk.
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