Watching Telly

What did you do last night?

I watched some telly.

Really? What did you see?

I saw some telly.

I mean, what programs?

That doesn't matter. Don't you know the medium is the message? It doesn't matter what the program was; telly is telly.

The medium is the message? That's brilliant! It sounds so wise yet says so little. I'm going to repeat it at every opportunity. So what are you doing now?

I'm writing.

What are you writing?

I'm writing some writing.

Oh, of course. Don't worry, I'm getting the hang of it. The medium is the message, right? Words are words, writing is writing, books are books, summonses are summonses.

Gwagnil ponk squeet.

I beg your pardon?

Kweebil plop niplock.

Oh, right! Talking is talking! Brilliant! I mean, bloody brilliant! I never before realised how deep an insight you can get into life's complexities by memorising a meaningless mantra. Who needs education when you can recite crap? I just hope you get a cherry, that's all.

Me too.

So what next? There must be all kinds of bollocks invented since 1964. What about junior management twaddle? Lateral blue-sky thinking outside the boxing ring? I might try some of that.

Yes, but...

I know! We're doing Games People Play! I thought everyone had forgotten that one decades ago.

No, I mean...

Women are from Venice? Are we doing that one? The female power-dressing Eunuch Powell? Rivers of Bloody Joan? No? Give me a clue!

I'm...

I know! It's Where's My Cheese-Flavoured Crispy Noodle. No, it's Facebook Revolution. The One Minute Manager? The Tao of Pooh?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

Primal scream! Knew I'd get it in the end.