Homecoming

A fine morning to you, everyone. I’ve decided to come back to this blog on an occasional basis, as writing here always used to provide good “therapy” when I really needed it — and after the last couple of years we’ve all had I don’t think anyone in the world would deny the need for some sort of outlet for all the stresses we’ve been having to deal with.

I’m not going to make any bold commitments about posting every day or anything like that — largely because my day job over at Rice Digital means that I’m writing every day anyway, so the whole “keeping in practice” thing isn’t really necessary. Instead, I’m just going to write here when I feel like it, just for the sake of expressing myself and perhaps sharing something of myself with those of you reading.

This might also be an opportunity to rekindle some friendships that kind of fell by the wayside when I moved away from posting regularly on this blog in favour of my other projects such as MoeGamer and my YouTube channel. So if you’re seeing this in your inbox or feed reader for the first time in a while, be sure to say hi — it’d be lovely to hear from some of you.

I’m not going to go straight into babbling on too much about the living nightmare that is life in 2022; we’ll save that for another day. For today, I just wanted to say hello, remind you all that I exist — and let you know that you’ll once again be seeing a bit of me around here now and again. That’ll probably do for now — but expect more soon!

2541: Farewell

This is my last daily post on this blog, to coincide with the last hour of the last day of 2016. I’m not going to rule out posting on here again when I feel like it, but this is the last of my daily entries. I feel that the exercise has run its course, and I’m definitely satisfied with what I’ve accomplished over the last 2,541 days.

Why am I stopping now? Well, it’s part of a broader plan I outlined a few days ago. I want to unplug and get away from the constant noise of online culture in 2016. It stopped being fun a good while ago — roughly coinciding with the rise of the outrage brigade who love nothing more than using their social media clout to shame people for enjoying “problematic” material — but it’s also been becoming increasingly apparent that the reasons I’ve been keeping my social media accounts active for as long as I have simply don’t seem to be the reasons other people keep them active.

On previous occasions when I’ve considered deactivating my Facebook and Twitter accounts — Facebook in particular — the thing that has always stopped me is the thought that “oh, people won’t be able to get hold of me easily, since everyone uses Facebook nowadays rather than anything else.” But over time it’s become apparent that while everyone does indeed use Facebook, pretty much the last thing they use it for is keeping in touch with other people. Rather, the inherent encouragement of narcissism in modern social media encourages people to post everything about their lives — or rather, everything in a heavily edited, idealised version of their lives — in an attempt to make other people feel like they should be having more fun/sex/babies/delicious meals/strong opinions about Donald Trump. And while that occasionally leads to heated debates in comment sections, it very rarely seems to lead to good conversations.

Twitter comes at it from a different angle. I’ve heard Twitter described as being like going to a party where everyone is shouting things at the room in general hoping other people will come and join the conversation, and that’s a fairly apt description. The particular trouble with Twitter is that its original selling point — its 140-character limit, intended to encourage people to “microblog” rather than post walls of text — isn’t conducive to nuanced discussion and debate, which leads to particularly obnoxious behaviour when people of differing ideologies and/or opinions about which anime girl is hottest come into contact with one another.

In short, I’ve been finding social media to be more trouble than it’s worth, so I’m unplugging from the noise in the hope that those people who do value my friendship will make use of other, more private and personal means of contacting me rather than everything being aired in public. And this blog comes under that header, too.

This blog has been valuable “therapy” for me over the course of the last few years, which have been, to say the least, rather challenging and difficult for a variety of reasons. I’ve faced many obstacles — some of my own creation, some by other people being colossal jackasses and my not really having any power to do anything about that — and, while I wouldn’t say my life is where I want it to be in the slightest, I feel that I’ve grown stronger as a person as a result.

But I feel like I need to start a new chapter. Leave behind the past, and look forward to a hopefully brighter future. It’s not easy to shed emotional baggage — not to mention the physical baggage that mental stress can leave you with — but severing my ties with the past, be they social media accounts or indeed this blog, feels like the right thing to do right now.

I’m not disappearing entirely, mind you; as I mentioned in my previous post, I still intend to keep writing weekly on MoeGamer, which will become my main place to write about games I’ve found particularly interesting or exciting, so I encourage you to subscribe over there if you like what I’m doing. And for more general writing, I’m starting up a weekly TinyLetter — effectively a small-scale mailing list — for personal notes to those of you who have been kind enough to show me friendship and support over the last few years. If you’re interested, you can sign up for that here. (Those of you for whom I have email addresses already, I’ll be taking the liberty of signing you up automatically at some point on New Year’s Day; I hope you don’t mind, and if you do, please rest assured that if you decide you don’t want to receive my notes, you can unsubscribe easily.)

Aside from that, though, at this point in my life I feel like broader Internet culture just doesn’t hold the value it once did for me, so out the window the unnecessary crap goes for 2017. I’m not encouraging any of you to follow my lead and I’m certainly not casting any judgement on those of you who still find value in social media and Internet culture at large; I’m simply saying it’s not for me, and explaining where I’ll be going if you do want to find me.

If you’d like to stay in touch more privately, please either subscribe to my TinyLetter — which you can reply to just like a normal email — or drop me a message via my Get In Touch page with your email address and/or any other contact details you’d care to share.

For those who have supported this blog for any period of time — be you lurker or regular commenter — thank you, good night, and I wish you a happy, healthy and hearty New Year. Here’s to 2017 being a better year for everyone.

2540: Royalty Free

I was surprised to discover that a device exists purely for the purpose of streaming shit music into shops.

Actually, let me correct that: a device exists purely for streaming royalty-free music into shops. There’s a good reason for this, of course: music in the background generally makes for a livelier, more pleasant atmosphere, but not all businesses find it practical or desirable to pay up for PRS and suchlike in order to use copyright-protected music, and as such we have the rise of the royalty-free artist and their music to fill this apparent gap in the market.

The aforementioned device isn’t, shall we say, a perfect bit of kit; the available music on offer is relatively limited, and its shuffle algorithm is so unsophisticated that it’s not at all unusual to hear the same song five or more times over the course of a single hour, but it does at least perform its basic function reasonably effectively. And more to the point, through a bit of the old Stockholm Syndrome, finding yourself in an environment where this nonsense is all you are able to listen to means that after a while you might actually start liking some of these songs.

Songs like Kady Z’s Game Over.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCKEoC9GRDA

Or indeed Kady Z’s Beautiful Disaster — apparently Kady Z, whom I had never heard of prior to actually investigating the dreadful but catchy lyrics to Game Over, is pretty much the queen of royalty-free music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wYFMDfQgASU

Interestingly, of all the musical monstrosities that belch forth from the aformentioned streaming box, Kady Z’s are the only ones that I seem to be able to find easily on the Internet. I’m sure the others are out there somewhere, but Game Over is the only song I’ve so far managed to find by Googling the one line of the lyrics I can actually remember. (“Game over, you and me, game over, finally free.”)

All this is perhaps because in particular the two songs I’ve mentioned above I actually don’t mind all that much. As I say, that may well be the Stockholm Syndrome talking, but from a bit of additional cursory research this evening, Kady Z appears to be 1) quite attractive and 2) actually not a terrible pop artist either, seemingly drawing influences from a number of other artists including Ke$ha (most apparent in Game Over), Katy Perry and numerous other “upbeat white chick” kind of affairs.

I wouldn’t say she’s a particular artist I’m going to rush out and buy all the albums of, but sometimes it’s kind of nice to accidentally stumble across some reasonably inoffensive new music that’s a bit outside the mainstream pop charts, which remain mostly dominated by bullshit these days — yes, I am getting old, and I’m not at all ashamed of it.

So there you have it. Make an hour-long playlist with Game Over in it at least five times punctuated by other stuff and you, too, can experience roughly what my day has been like.

2539: Hipster Coffee

I was a little early going into town for work this morning, so I stopped for a coffee. The Starbucks I usually stop at was pretty heaving, so I went over the road to a place that has relatively recently opened but which I hadn’t tried before: an apparent chain (I’ve seen at least two in various parts of Southampton) called Coffee #1. And I think it’s the most hipster place I’ve ever been in.

If I were to say the words “hipster coffee shop” to you, picture what you think I mean for a moment. Chances are you’re imagining a place with wooden floors, eclectic art lining the walls and overly familiar, jocular writing on the menu. And, of course, lots of 20-year old mean with beards and overly elaborate moustaches browsing Instagram on their iPads. And blue-haired, slightly overweight women staring morosely at their mobile phones, flipping idly through social media rather than actually talking to the person sitting across the table from them.

Coffee #1 was exactly like this, and then some. The art on the walls seemed to have no coherent theme whatsoever, running the gamut from an enlarged diagram of how to correctly hitch a horse to a post to framed covers of Tintin comics and Tolkien novels. The furniture wasn’t much better; I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a single matching chair in the entire place. And this wasn’t the case that you find in some coffee shops where maybe a chair breaks so they have to bring out an “emergency chair” from the back room to fill a gap; no, this seemed like a distinct effort to make everything mismatched. It was sort of impressive in a faintly insufferable sort of way.

Coffee #1 wasn’t a bad place to go for coffee by any means; the coffee itself was nice and at least came in proper mugs rather than artisanal blown glass jars or something, but the whole experience I had while I was there was just one of the place itself trying far too hard. “Look at me!” it seemed to say. “I’m quirky and kooky and wacky!” It felt like whoever had designed the chaotic aesthetic of the whole place was desperately trying to ensnare to coerce the millennial market into coming for a cup of overpriced, overly complicated coffee while taking selfies with their insufferable friends to plaster all over an Instagram feed that no-one in their right mind would give a shit about, regardless of how many cat GIFs and screenshots of the Notes page on their iPhone featuring supposedly profound “showerthoughts” they interspersed their irrepressible narcissism with.

Entertainingly, I got the distinct impression that the staff at Coffee #1 were a little weary of the whole thing, too. The woman serving me wandered off to take a piss (in the toilet, thankfully, at least I assume that’s where she went) halfway through taking my order, and the guy who appeared to be in charge looked a little flustered, to say the least. I’m not sure whether this was simply a side-effect of the Christmas rush (which I can attest to as being exhausting) or if working in an environment that practically screams “ME! ME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK HOW QUIRKY I AM!” simply fatigues the mind after a while.

Either way, I’m not averse to going back to Coffee #1 again in the future, since the important part of its service — y’know, the coffee — was nice enough and no more obnoxiously priced than its peers. The mismatched, chaotic decor didn’t even really bother me that much, despite the words I’ve expended describing it above — it was simply rather striking, since it was my first visit. It all just seemed like rather a lot of wasted effort — and believe me, to ensure that every single chair in your establishment doesn’t match any other chair in your establishment has to take a certain amount of effort — when I can’t help but feeling most people would be happy with comfy chairs, muted and relaxing decor, and perhaps some light, calming music playing in the background.

And good coffee, of course.

2534: Christmas Cheer

While I’ve somewhat lost enthusiasm for Christmas over the last ten years or so — I used to absolutely love it as a child — one thing I am pretty grateful for is the fact that I don’t recall ever having a “bad” Christmas.

I mention this simply because one of the most popular stereotypes used when describing the Christmas period is that of “the inevitable family arguments” that apparently occur in many households. While I feel that the descriptions of these are often somewhat overblown and exaggerated for comedic effect in most cases, these stereotypes presumably came about for a reason.

My Christmases growing up were fairly formulaic and predictable, but that brought them a certain sense of comfort about them. I’d wake up to find a selection of small gifts that had been snuck into a “Santa’s sack” at the foot of my bed, then go downstairs for a bacon sandwich and, once I was a little older, a Bucks Fizz. After breakfast, we’d go up to the lounge and open presents — my mother usually being the one who was most enthusiastic about this part of the day, and my father urging a certain degree of restraint — before relaxing with our new acquisitions for a little while.

After that, lunch preparations would get underway, with my mother taking the lead on things — we were a household of traditional gender roles, and also my mother is an excellent cook — and the rest of us alternating between staying well out of the way and occasionally fetching and carrying things as requested.

Lunchtime would come, and sprouts would always be on everyone’s plate, regardless of protestations, though those of us who really objected to them (such as me) would typically only have one of them, drowned in gravy to make it as inoffensive as possible. This would be followed by Christmas pudding, which would always be set aflame, and which I’d never quite work out if I actually liked or not — after 35 years of contemplation, I don’t think I do — and perhaps a cheeseboard to finish.

At some point during the day, the whole family would troop down to a local family friends’ place for wine and conversation for an hour or two; this was never a formal affair, but was always pleasant, particularly if the circumstances of the rest of the year had meant that we hadn’t had the time to catch up as frequently as we all might have liked to do. Then we’d return home, flop into our respective chairs and go back to enjoying our presents, mountains of snack foods and a generally relaxed, calm atmosphere.

I don’t remember a single Christmas that was blighted with arguments or troublesome political discussions, and I’m grateful for that. Perhaps these things did happen and I just don’t remember them, but they couldn’t have been especially traumatic for me if I can’t recall them at all.

These days, a Christmas exactly as I describe above is something that only happens once every couple of years now, since being married, we have the “one family, other family, quiet Christmas by ourselves” cycle going on. This year, we’re with my in-laws, who have routines of their own very similar to those that my family have enjoyed over the years, albeit with their own little twists.

And after a turbulent year — not to mention the chaos of working retail over the holiday period — I’m looking forward to a day where everyone, everywhere can just take some time to relax and enjoy themselves for once. At least, I hope that’s what everyone, everywhere is at least going to make an effort to try and do.

Merry Christmas.

2531: Planning to Unplug

After some discussion with my friend Chris recently — partly inspired by my recent post on mobile phone apathy — I’ve made the not particularly difficult decision to try and “unplug” as much as possible from the general noise of the Internet in 2017.

And I’m talking about more than just stepping away from Twitter and Facebook like I have done a few times in the past, as positive as those experiences turned out to be for me. I’m talking about a pretty thorough purge, and a return to a simpler, quieter life with fewer external stressors.

You see, the allure of the Internet and its ability to connect people from all over the world has kind of worn off somewhat for me. The last few years have demonstrated that there are a significant number of people out there who are more interested in conflict, oneupmanship and narcissism than actual meaningful interaction. The fall from grace of the games press — and many game journalists’ pretty much unveiled hatred of their audiences — is just one of many examples of this, but the overall negativity that infuses what feels like the vast majority of online communications these days is just proving to be more trouble than it’s worth.

I don’t need that. It’s not adding anything to my life — nothing good, anyway — so, I figure, why continue to put up with it? There’s no need to.

As such, starting on New Year’s Day, I’m going to begin a process of unplugging as much as I possibly can. Twitter and Facebook are both going completely, since the annoyance both of those bring to my life far outweighs the benefits of both of them. More significantly, I’m planning on ditching the smartphone age in favour of an older, simpler phone that doesn’t bug me every five minutes with updates and notifications. At this point, I’m strongly considering picking up a second-hand N-Gage I’ve seen on Amazon, since that has the added benefit of being an underappreciated and increasingly rare gaming platform as well as a phone I very much enjoyed using when I originally had one.

I’m also going to draw my time with this blog to a close. I’m satisfied with what I’ve achieved here since I started, but the time has come to move on. I’m not going to give up regular writing, mind you; I’m still going to post weekly articles over on MoeGamer, since those have a clear focus, and I’m also intending to start a weekly TinyLetter as a more private, more personal substitute for my daily updates here. I’ll post details on how to sign up for that towards the end of the year, so those of you who want to continue to follow what I’m up to can do so.

I’ll be keeping more personal means of communication open. My email address and Google Hangouts accounts will still be active, as will my gaming accounts on Steam, Xbox Live and PSN. But the shouting into the void that is public social media will, hopefully, become a thing of the past. It’s no longer enjoyable, useful or fun, so I have no need for it.

I’m not going to put my personal email, Google Hangouts and gaming account addresses in this post for obvious reasons, but if you are interested in staying in touch via any of these means, please feel free to drop me a line via my Contact page explaining who you are and how you know me. If we’ve chatted before in the past, great, no problem; if we’ve never spoken before, however, please do include a bit about yourself in your message.

That’s the plan, then. And I anticipate that it will lead to a happier, more peaceful and less stressful 2017 for me. At least I hope it does, anyway!

2529: Mobile Phone Apathy

0529_001

I’ve always thought of myself as something of a gadget-head, but over the last few years I’ve become increasingly underwhelmed and bored with those most ubiquitous of devices, the mobile phone.

I remember getting my first mobile phone towards the end of my schooldays. It was a big fat Motorola thing with an extendable aerial, and I remember the most exciting thing about it was discovering that I could hold down a button to write lower-case letters in text messages, whereas I’d previously been writing in all-caps like a grandmother learning to use email for the first time. (We were all writing in all-caps like a grandmother learning to use email for the first time at the time.)

Every year or two after that, there was the excitement of The Upgrade. I upgraded from my Motorola to a Nokia 3210, which was exciting because it had Snake on it, and everyone loved Snake, despite it being something that I’d played some 15 years earlier on my old Atari 8-bit computers. Then I upgraded to a Nokia 3330, which had Snake II on it (which was essentially Snake with mildly better graphics). These two phones were pretty similar to one another, though this was also the age that phones were getting smaller rather than bigger, so the 3330 was pleasingly compact after the relatively bulky 3210.

After that, I went for a Sony Ericsson phone that had a colour screen and a camera. Well, I say it had a camera; actually, the camera was a separate unit you had to snap on to the bottom of it which took photos at approximately the size of a postage stamp that weren’t any use to anyone. The colour screen was nice, though.

After that, I got a phone whose make and model I can’t remember, but which I think was actually one of my favourite phones of all time. It had a pretty big screen — in colour again, a reasonable quality camera and, best of all, the ability to record sounds that could subsequently be used for ringtones, message tones, alarm tones and all manner of other things. It was a lot of fun, and an early phone to support Java, too, which meant you could download games for it. And there were some decent games available, too — most notably the excellent puzzle game Lumines, which had previously been something exclusive to PSP owners.

If I remember correctly, my next phone after that was the ill-fated Nokia N-Gage, which I picked up out of interest in its gaming capabilities. I actually ended up liking it as a phone more than a gaming device, since its vertically-oriented screen made a lot of games impractical and tricky to play, but the dedicated directional pad, the way you held it and the big, bright, clear screen made it a very comfortable personal organiser device. Sure, you looked dumb talking on it — it was notorious for its “side-talking” posture, whereby you looked like you were holding a taco up to your ear while talking on it — but I rarely talked on the phone anyway, so this simply wasn’t a big issue for me. It’s actually one of my most fondly remembered phones.

I forget if I had any other phones between the N-Gage and the iPhone that I was given for free while I worked at Apple — I was working retail during the launch of the device — but none spring to mind. The iPhone, meanwhile, was actually a little underwhelming when it first launched; while its bright display and capacitive touchscreen certainly looked lovely, iOS 1.X was severely limited in what you could actually do with it. About the most interesting thing you could do with a first-gen iPhone was browse the “full” Internet rather than only WAP-enabled mobile-specific pages. (Interestingly, with responsive sites, we’ve now actually gone back to having mobile-specific pages, albeit with a lot more functionality than old-school WAP sites.)

The iPhone was a bit of a watershed moment for mobile phones, though, because it’s at that point that devices stopped being quite so different and unique from one another. Each and every iPhone is much like the last — perhaps a little faster, a little bigger, a little clearer, a little more lacking connection ports we’ve previously taken for granted — and each and every Android phone is much like the last too, except, of course, for the ones that function as inadvertent incendiary devices.

I’ve had my HTC One M8 phone for over two years now. I picked it up as an upgrade from my crusty old iPhone 4 because I was bored with iOS and wanted to see what Android was like, and discovered that yes, I liked Android, though it’s just as boring as iOS is. Now, even as I’m eligible for an upgrade to the newest, latest and greatest, I have absolutely no desire to investigate my options whatsoever. The M8 works fine for what I use it for, and I find most new phones virtually indistinguishable from what the M8 offers. Again, they might be a little bit faster or offer a higher resolution screen — although at the size of a mobile phone, there comes a point where resolution becomes completely irrelevant, since individual pixels are too small to distinguish — but they don’t do anything new or exciting in the same way that my pre-smartphone upgrades offered.

Each and every upgrade before the iPhone I had was genuinely thrilling, and something I wanted to show off to people. Each phone was unique from the last, and each brand offered its own particular twist on things. Now, the actual devices themselves are uninteresting and virtually indistinguishable from one another; simply a delivery medium for their operating system of choice. And operating systems aren’t interesting.

I think a big part of my growing cynicism and apathy for this particular side of technology also comes from the fact that the mobile marketplace in general just feels a bit sleazy. Ever since the world was given in-app purchases — something which I knew would be a terrible idea as soon as it was announced — we’ve been subjected to revolting, exploitative free-to-play garbage, ad-infested messes and all manner of other bullshit. Rather than being the cool, exciting gadgets they once were, mobile phones feel increasingly like just another way for advertisers to invade your life and snake oil salesmen to part you with your case — although what part of life isn’t this way these days?

All this is a rather long-winded way of saying that I’m in no hurry to upgrade my HTC One M8, and in fact, I’ve considered on more than one occasion actually “downgrading” to a feature phone rather than a smartphone. Maybe I should see how much N-Gages are going for on eBay…

2526: Quiet Weekend

0526_001

I’ve been working all week, and I now have two full days — a proper weekend — to look forward to. And I am indeed very much looking forward to it.

In particular, I’m looking forward to spending some more quality time with Final Fantasy XV and Pokémon Moon, both of which I’ve had the chance to play sporadically throughout the week, but not for particularly protracted periods of time due to the necessity of getting up the next day in time for work.

I’ve always appreciated free time with no commitments, but nothing really makes you appreciate it quite like a week of hard work, whatever form that hard work takes — whether it’s getting out of the house and doing something in exchange for money, or simply doing something useful at home.

Although the work I’m doing is just temporary — it’s the same seasonal position in retail I held last year — I’m enjoying it, and I’m noticing a few positive things about myself in the process. In particular, I’m finding it a lot easier to quite simply talk to people and feel like “part of the group”. Whether this is a result of working with the same people I worked with last year and consequently not having to build new relationships from scratch, or if it’s something to do with the new medication I started on about a month back, I’m not sure — it’s probably a combination of those two things — but I am, on the whole, feeling uncharacteristically satisfied with certain aspects of myself at present.

There are plenty of things I’m unsatisfied with too, of course — most notably having put a bunch of weight back on since losing a bunch with Slimming World last year, though since changing medication I have subsequently discovered part of the blame for that can be laid at the feet of the pills I was on earlier in the year — but for now I’m trying to enjoy life as much as I can. I don’t doubt that in January when my temporary position comes to an end that things will get a little difficult and tight once again, but I have a few plans in place for things to do and some potential opportunities to pursue.

It’s perhaps a tiny bit early to review the whole year, though most people will probably agree 2016 has largely been a big pile of shit. That said, this last couple of months have proven to be a little better than the rest of the year, at least, so all I can really hope for at the moment is that the worst is over and that this is the start of the long climb back out of the abyss into something resembling a normal, satisfying, happy life.

It remains to be seen what 2017 has to hold, but I’m not worrying about that too much for the moment. Right now, I have a full weekend to look forward to. And I intend to enjoy it as much as possible by doing as little as possible.

2520: The Grand Tour

I’ve been watching Amazon’s new “totally not Top Gear, oh wait it is really and we’re not even trying to hide it” show The Grand Tour recently. So far I’ve watched the first three episodes and it’s been a lot of fun.

The show follows Top Gear’s format pretty closely, usually featuring a single longer film split into two or more chunks over the course of the episode, punctuated by shorter regular features that are usually played more for laughs than anything. The longer film tends to offer a blend between Clarkson, May and Hammond’s usual silly activities and some thoughts on their cars of the week, deflecting the common criticisms of Top Gear’s latter years in which people accused it of not really being a car show any more.

The longer features have been enjoyably varied so far. One week featured a hilarious sequence of Clarkson, May and Hammond attempting to complete a military exercise — in this case, the “car of the week” was used to assist them in their getaway from an eventually successful rescue mission — while another featured an attempt to recreate the “Grand Tour” of years gone by, whereby wealthy young gentlemen would travel around continental Europe in an attempt to learn more about culture and the arts. (The latter was enjoyably undermined by Hammond turning up in a noisy Dodge and repeatedly doing donuts at every opportunity while Clarkson and May drove an Aston Martin and a Rolls-Royce in an attempt to be more “refined” respectively.)

The shorter features are a little hit and miss. “Conversation Street” — essentially a part of the show where the three talk in a rather unstructured manner similar to the “news” section of Top Gear — tends to work well, as the group has great chemistry as always, and plenty to talk about. “Celebrity Braincrash”, meanwhile, ostensibly a segment where they invite a celebrity on to participate in a difficult quiz, but where the celebrities in question inevitably die in some comedically ridiculous manner on their way to the tent that plays host to the show, is a gag that kind of ran its course in the first show and would have probably been better served being replaced by something new in subsequent episodes.

Likewise, the show’s replacement for the Top Gear test track is a cool course with some entertaining gimmicks, but “The American”, the show’s Stig-equivalent, isn’t a patch on the understated, mute hilarity of Top Gear’s anonymous driver. Like Celebrity Braincrash, “The American” is a bit of a one-note joke, though thankfully in this case not one that is repeated in every episode.

Despite its flaws, however, I’ve been enjoying The Grand Tour, and it’s proven to be an enjoyable successor to Top Gear. I watched a few episodes of the new Top Gear with Chris Evans and Matt LeBlanc and didn’t hate it, though it wasn’t the same at all; the chemistry and sense of genuine friendship that Clarkson, May and Hammond had built up over the years simply wasn’t there with the new cast. Fortunately, with the existence of The Grand Tour, this is no longer an issue, since those who enjoyed Top Gear’s old way of doing things can now simply get more of the same.

Some might call that unimaginative. I would call it eminently sensible on Amazon’s part, and great for the people who just wanted more of the show they enjoyed without radical changes.

2512: Police, Stop!

One of my many not-particularly-guilty pleasures is terrible police documentaries. Not the kind that deal with actual hard-hitting crime like murders and whatnot, but the shows that are typically on late-night TV and focus on the more mundane parts of the police force such as traffic and rail cops.

I’m not sure why I enjoy these shows so much, but I have done for quite some time. I think part of it is the fact that I’ve always taken a certain degree of pride in being law-abiding and resent those who get away with breaking the law — consequently, I rather enjoy seeing people who have done something wrong get into trouble.

I get the impression from these shows that it’s not particularly fashionable to be in favour of the police or of “authority” figures in general, and as such the shows themselves tend to be skewed rather more in favour of the police than the criminals. Good PR and all that. All that said, even without the inherent bias in the shows I’m pretty sure I’d find it tough to sympathise with a drug dealer or twat driving an old banger without any insurance.

The one thing that does bug me a bit about the police depicted in these shows is their ridiculous overreliance on business-speak and jargon. It’s never a car crash, it’s an “RTC”. It’s never a house, it’s a “property”. And God knows what they’re on about with half of the charges. “Aggravated vehicle taking?” No, mate, you nicked a car.

These documentaries aren’t going to win any awards for quality television or hard-hitting journalism, and often end in a rather unsatisfactory manner explaining just how the people the cops in the episode spent tailing managed to not get locked up for the things they clearly did, but I still find them enjoyable nonetheless. They’re not something I’d find myself actively watching in favour of something else, but as something on in the background — usually while we’re trying to get to sleep — they’re hard to beat.

On that note, it’s an early start tomorrow so it’s time to get to bed and hear Jamie Theakston explain what ANPR is for the 500th time.