I'm not a fan of the works of Terry Pratchett. Every Christmas I would buy the latest of his books for No.2 Ex but could not bring myself to read any of them. A few pages was always sufficient to suggest they were full of rather obvious attempts at humour. I know there are those among you who would vehemently disagree, but I'm pleased to know that many of my friends feel as I do.
Nevertheless, in the absence of anything better to do last night, Patsy123 and I sat ourselves down with a bottle of Australian cleanskin and gave Sky One our rapt attention as they screened the first half of Hogfather.
"Rapt" is something of an exaggeration. As the plot failed to unfold and the scenes plodded inexorably by, Patsy123 and I took it in turns to nod off. Taking it in turns meant that we could update each other on events we might have missed, but curiously neither of us actually seemed to want to do this, preferring instead to sit in something of a blank stupor until it was all over.
And then ........ hurrah! It was all over.
And the new episode of LOST came on. In a blinding blur of fascinating plot and sharp direction, the one hour of LOST had been and gone.
Tonight I decided to give Hogfather a chance to acquit itself honourably. A further two hours of my life Ticked. Ponderously. By.
In one of his last lines in the "action" Death says something like:
"In a Universe so full of Wonders, they have managed to invent Boredom."
I couldn't have put it better myself.