fandomhigh | TeeVee for Beginners, Friday Period Two

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TeeVee for Beginners, Friday Period Two

"Today, we're going to be talking about people," Mitchell said, once they'd all filled into the classroom. Anyone paying attention may have noticed the large table full of bags upon bags of crisps off to the side of the room. "People watching television, to be precise." You know, in case they'd thought he was going to talk about something a little less savoury. "Academics call television the 'electronic hearth', because where families used to gather before the fireplace, they started to gather in front of the television instead. It grew very very quickly from being a novelty to being in every household, in every family."

He gestured at the television. "Others call it being couch potatoes," he said, wryly. "People who spend too much time in front of the television. They have a little food, have a little drink, and let the programmes flow on past. Wasting their lives away, never looking for some meaning in life, never bothering to find out who they really are, what the world's really like." He smiled once. "The truth, as it generally is, lies somewhere in the middle. Television nowadays is a unifier, it brings people together, but it also sets them apart."

He wandered over to the table, patting it with his hands. "Now for the fun part," he said, "Snacks are a vital part of the modern television experience. Sometimes, it's entire meals, pizza and Chinese food." Mitchell was a great appreciator of the art. "But at this hour, that may be pushing it. Crisps," he picked up a bag and waved it around, "Are excellent television chow. I want you all to pick what looks like it may taste good, and if you're not sure, ask your fellow classmates about it." He set the bag down. "Today is all about people. About audiences, which we all are when we're watching the television. So go on, make yourself comfortable. Be an audience, meet people, see what the social contexts are all about."

He took a seat on his own couch. "Have fun. That's what television's all about."

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"This is the Noble Family," Mitchell introduced, and promptly got distracted by the television himself as he shot it a quick grin. "Ah. This series was really big back home for a while, and it chronicles the television watching habits of our time."

Or, you know, was a series about professional British couch potatoes, discussing their lives over the TV. Watch the Christmas Special, snack, or comment to others on the going-ons, or anything in between.

Leto watched the show, the frown on his face deepening. He must be missing something. "I fail to see the entertainment value."

"It's British," Mitchell told him. Because that explained everything.

It was likely he was going to use 'I fail to see the ___ value' to snark on George into the next week.

Leto failed to see the Britishness as an explanation, as well. "What characterises British in this context?" he asked.

Leto would also fail to see the entertainment value of using that phrase for snark.

Because snark was such a bourgeois concept.

"British comedy is famous for its sardonic wit, cynicism, and insult," Mitchell explained. Patiently. "The worse of a bastard you are, the funnier."

Mitchell was more of a fan of Laurel and Hardy in fiction, but otherwise...

"But the insults are merely verbal?" Leto asked. "Physically tormenting people is not considered funny?"

Mitchell actually thought about that. "Generally," he said, at last, "That, too. It's that whole British approach to things."

Mitchell was Irish. He knew these things. "You know, where they wander into something - be it a house or a country or a TV show - and say 'you, you, and you, fuck off, we're having tiffin', as one comedian once put it."

An Irish comedian.

Edited 2009-05-22 18:20 (UTC)

"Tiffin'?" Leto felt that he was missing something, but at least it was a relief that torture wasn't seen as funny. That would have made Baron Harkonnen a great comedian.

"It's lunch as served in some of the British colonies," Mitchell supplied. "'The sun never sets on the British empire'."

It sounded a lot like he was adding my arse to the end of it.

"I see," Leto said. He really didn't. "So, a comedy might center around a cruel but intelligent and witty person, who eventually suffers a cruel and bloody death at the hands of their enemies?"

Alia had killed the Baron Harkonnen when she had been a girl. That might have been funny.

"It... might," Mitchell said, thoughtfully. "Although often, either there's no actual death, or the cruel person in question escapes it by, say..." More obvious thinking about it. "...kneeing its physical manifestation in the groin or something."

"The physical manifestation of death?" Leto blinked. "I was thinking more in terms of being stabbed to death by little children."

"I haven't seen any of that," Mitchell said, slowly, "There's one where a man gets beaten up by skinheads."

Another pause. He started digging around till he found some DVDs.

"Just watch this," he said, finally, and thrust the ~~Blackadder~~ Darkserpent DVD at him.

Re: The Television

future_sandworm - 2009-05-22 19:18 (UTC) - Expand

Watching the show, Penelope wasn't sure she liked it. Nor was she sure she liked Little David's mother.

As Penelope didn't seem to enjoy this either, Leto leaned over and whispered: "Do you know what's supposed to be funny?"

"I'm not entirely certain, Leto," she replied quietly. "I find nothing humorous about this at all." In fact, she found it a bit sad.

"Neither do I." He shrugged. "Are you used to television?"

"No," she said. "Aside from the Movie Appreciation class I took last semester, I am largely unfamiliar." She paused briefly, then asked: "Are you?"

"Not at all. I'm from 20,000 years into the future." And clearly there was no television then.

"Twenty thousand years," she repeated, slowly. "I can hardly fathom so many years into time. It must be so very different, yes?"

"Quite different," Leto replied, smiling at her. "For many reasons. But you are from this time, aren't you?"

"I am, yes," she said, returning his smile and trying not to seem as if she were staring too much. But she was; his eyes were beautiful. "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you," he replied, accepting the compliment. "Eyes of Ibad. The sign of Spice addiction."

"Spice addiction?" she asked. "As in cooking spices?" And if everyone there had the same color eyes, she thought what a unique and amazing place his home would be to see.

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