Now that football and TV have decided to do each other in, I am 3 days into my enforced experiment in life in the 20th Century.
For reasons too boring to repeat, I am unable to receive any cable or satellite TV except ITV Digital. After realising that their excellent coverage of the Nationwide had gathered a total audience of me, they have callously pulled the plug.
I blame all of you. Somehow you have failed to realise the significance of Cheltenham v Dagenham and Redbridge (a football match, not a war between the actual towns), and spent your spare time being selfishly creative and fulfilled.
Being reduced to 12 channels, many of which are devoted to news for Christ's sake, has started to seriously affect my lifestyle. The climax to the titanic struggle between Valencia and Real Madrid has become a shadowy thing, almost abroad somehow.
Terrestrial TV is so poor. Damn your eyes, Britain. No wonder people in the olden days were driven to gardening.
In times of crisis, there is always the Internet. Here is a new digital display device made from genetically engineered viruses, with animation, here is a game along the lines of the ant game, but with a contemporary twist, and here is 55 gallons of goat semen.
