by Mr Moth
If, like me, you ever find yourself staring at the on-screen TV guide for so long that all you can hum for the next day is the background lift-funk, you’ll know the lure of the more, shall we say esoteric?, stations available towards the top end of the channel range. I’m not talking about the ones with almost-naked ladies looking bored and waggling a vintage cordless phone at the camera, nor the ones with grainy, sweat-soaked footage of a preacher telling people off for being very naughty in the sight of God. I’m talking about the shopping channels. A whole range of actual TV stations that exist purely to sell, sell, sell. Given that this is like watching regular commercial television without that ridiculous “content” getting in the way of the sweet, sweet advert breaks, what actual incentive could there be for a normal human being tuning in? Why would anyone ever switch to Thane Direct of their own volition?
The answer, of course, is that there is gold in the gold-digging. Between frantic sales pitches, bamboozling product demonstrations and artless time-filling, there are spaces where the mere act of selling you a food processor transcends commerce and becomes art.
Of a sort.
MostlyFilm 