By TV Gareth - Jimmy Saville's Lovechild
“The World At Your Finger Tips,” exclaims the BBC’s Ceefax (‘See Facts’, geddit?), the world’s oldest Teletext service. Fast becoming redundant with the burgeoning popularity of digital television, now would be an appropriate time for a self indulgent celebration of its blocky majesty and the joy it has brought me over the years as the natural mid-point between Hieroglyphics and the internet.
Though my current enjoyment of it is hampered by the fact that a dodgy television reception means every third letter isn’t displayed properly, by no means does this diminish the memories I have of my time spent with teletext over the past years.
My affair began over a decade ago with Saturday afternoons sat in front of Ceefax page 303 watching that afternoon’s football scores update, pressing and releasing the ‘hold’ button every 20 seconds to encourage it to refresh more frequently. I whole-heartedly rejected such antiquated methods as the radio. Who needs full match commentary when you can stare at the screen waiting for the football scores to suddenly jump out at you like one of those internet magic eyes that after staring at it for two minutes, gives way to an image of some wailing gremlin or something? The teletextual equivalent being the words ‘Full Time’ coming up on my screen on a sunny May day in ‘95 confirming Blackburn had won the Premier League.
For a few years I rested on my laurels spending my time between football news and of course Channel 4’s legendary interactive quiz ‘Bamboozle’ (p.390, though sadly this experience was slightly soured by the fact that my remote control didn’t have a ‘reveal’ button so I could never see the answers to the questions. Many a sleepless night…).
Then, sometime in my early teens I discovered just how involved with teletext it was possible to be. Littered across the channels were numerous letters pages crying out for contributions. My first adventure into print came with an email sent to BBC’s ‘The Vibe’ (RIP) asking a question about who sang a song whose lyrics I could only partially remember (Answer: Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark). The excitement I felt on seeing this onscreen when I got home from school has meant my whole life since has been an anti-climax. I took photographs of the TV screen convinced that one day this evidence of me being published on national TV would take pride of place in my CV (but the bastard camera flash ruined the picture). I then spent the next couple of years emailing Channel 4’s spaztastic ‘Mega-zine’ (p.345) claiming status as a regular contributor and wallowing continually in my self importance.
I wish you could see the nostalgic joy on my face turn to sadness as I explain that Teletext as we know it looks to be on the way out as more and more pages get cut and the impending 2012 analog switch-off means that Ceefax at least, will die entirely. I implore you to enjoy it while you can. Whether you’re looking for recipes, shipping news, TV listings, (‘cause you know you can’t rely on TV Desk for that) or even something a bit more risqu’e, give Teletext a go. It’s like the internet gone fashionably retro, what could be cooler?
TELETEXT IS FUCKING BRILLIANT!!
Can the latest edition to Cardiff’s nightlife, Pulse, live up to expectations?
The Vagina Monologues: well, let’s just say I was pleasantly surprised. Thinking The Vagina Monologues was going to be full of feminists lecturing about women’s rights, I was initially apprehensive. As it turned out, I was entertained by the real-life experiences of several women and yes, you’ve guessed it, their vaginas.
Modified Air Combat Heroes Is an acronym that has blatantly been reverse engineered by twatty marketing types. People who get to wear their own clothes to work and use phrases like ‘edgy’ and ‘bling’ far too much.
Why are you so shit?’ Another Gindrinker concert, another moron not quite getting it. To be fair, it’s not hard to see why, screeched vocals about Bullseye and guitar rape in abundance does not a happy emo crowd make.
Women: It’s time to put the volume firmly on ‘mute’...
Snotty Nose
It’s a matter of mere moments before the arrival of Explosions in the Sky to the stage and the atmosphere in the Astoria is incredible. As with many of their post-rock peers, here is a band that demand nothing short of sheer adoration from their fans.
In between spay-painting small horses with swastikas and sniffing glue the youth of today still like to chew the fat from time to time. Unfortunately the cretins have adopted a bizarre type of new-speak which can leave “me-mans” (myself and some of my close friends) “well vexed” (Perplexed, Peeved). That’s where the Urban dictionary comes in. With this peer monitored compendium of British and American slang you can find out what the little twazocks actually said to you before you walked off full of impotent rage and self loathing. Yay. To elaborate. After hearing a rap-tune recently I heard the word “skeet” a term with which I was unfamiliar. Consulting the Urban dictionary I discovered that skeet is a verb that describes, “Bustin’ a nut in a skizzles grill” or, the act of ejaculating onto a woman’s face. Other notable explanations submitted included the rather quaint: “To drop a banana item in Mario Kart 64, thereby causing a trailing opponent to slip on it and skid out” and the colorful “Something I would love to do on the Olsen twins. “The real fun lies in contrasting the Neanderthal with the surely mock-serious entries. Of course some helpful souls point out the real meaning of the word (something to do with clay pigeon shooting) but it is all done very tongue in cheek. A running dialogue on the site led one poster to claim it was a word which White people only heard about from the comedian Dave Chapelle. This in turn led one of his fellows to inform us that it is a completely fictional word invented by black people because they needed something to do in between collecting welfare cheques. As if via osmosis the stupidity seeps into you brain and you can impress the Gs in your hood with your newfound knowledge and/or prejudices lest ye be merced by your in the know peers.