Shouting at the Television

I have always found it very therapeutic to shout at the television and the people on the news, the broadcasters, interviewers, interviewees, and the journalists themselves. They are so irritating.

Of course, my behaviour is disruptive and annoying to anyone trying to watch. It is also irrational. But I have been off form recently. Not nearly enough anger and heckling recently. But I was on good form Monday evening. “What is the matter with that man? Has he got a crick in his neck?” referring to the reporter in Los Angeles, who had his head at 45 degrees, as if consoling an upset colleague, speaking about the arrest of Michal Jackson’s doctor.

“Can’t that woman shut up?” I shouted as the presenter asks the same question in 4 different ways, taking longer than the answer itself. Then of course, there was a senior civil servant, desperately trying to stay on script, looking sincere, but with his hands, shoulders and, in fact all moving bodily parts, totally static, as he talks in a style that I reserve for reading train timetables. “Has he got piles?”

Then I was brought down to earth, as I waited to hear whether the name of the soldier killed in Afghanistan is someone we know. There is an empty feeling the in the bottom of the stomach, which is not relieved as the name is not given, although the family have been informed. Now I go quiet.