Falling about and apart

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.