Miles Hunt: Born In The Future

But now by employing one of the new technologies, if used correctly, you can skip all the adverts at home & see them all afresh at the cinema, should this be your want. I first saw TiVo in the States in 2002. Didn't quite understand what it was, or, having been talked through the wonders of digital teevee viewing by a good and well meaning, but surely misguided, friend, I couldn't quite understand why anyone would want to watch so much teevee. Or for that matter, could even find more than 60 minutes of teevee per day that would even slightly engage the brain.

However this week myself & my equally discerning flatmates received delivery of Sky+. This is a digital teevee system that mimics the TiVo system that I saw in the US. Only better. And here are the basic rules of how to avoid all teevee advertising. Settle in for your favourite show, grab yer Sky+ remote & as soon as you here the opening tones of your show's theme tune, hit the pause! Simple as that, hit the fuckin' pause! What you do with the next 5 to 8 minutes is up to you. Take a visit to the bathroom, just to make extra sure there'll be no more unwanted disturbances while yer favourite show is on. Go to the kitchen & pour yerself a jug of foaming meade, or phone your Mom. I don't give a fuck, just keep that teevee on pause for 5 to 8 minutes. Okay, once you've waited you're winning. Let off the pause & enjoy the first section of your show. Now, when you hit the first ad break, simply fast forward your way through it, resuming normal play back when you see that your show has returned. Simple, but alarmingly satisfying.

Another manner by which to avoid the advertising industry during your teevee hours is to simply digitally record each show you fancy watching, viewing them at your convenience at some later date, by simply repeating the 'fast forward' motif at the ad breaks & yer quids in! (The quick witted among you will have spotted that the latter process can be achieved without the extra cost of Sky+, simply by employing your regular video recorder.)

Follow this to the letter & you will be seizing back a degree of control robbed from you years ago by those bastards in the advertising business. (That is unless of course your favourite show happens to be Friends. In that case you should ignore all of the above, as you deserve to wallow in your own stupidity. You probably need to watch the adverts in order to not miss out on any of the conversation when you next visit your local wine bar.)

All we have to do now is stop the fucking BBC from advertising themselves. You've already got us by the balls, you cunts. The protection racket that is the Television Licence assures The Old Boy's network an income for the foreseeable future. And why would I need to be encouraged to watch a channel that I am quite plainly already watching? Did I miss a meeting? They are like some hideous school bully, of the sporting variety, without doubt, constantly bragging at how good they are at, well, every-fucking-thing. Even though you've just watched them receive a medal from some utterly benign authority figure.

I had intended to write a well constructed, nay positive, account of my warm feelings toward the new technologies, I seem to have gone awry. Fuck it! While I'm at it...

Mobile phones. I'm a fan, particularly of the text message. This form of communication fits well into my bedroom routine. Too idle to talk? Without question! Then text it. But take the things out of the slumber chamber & it's a whole other matter.

As a performer of live music I've watched audience behaviours change dramatically in recent times. It used to be that when the band played 'the slow one' the audience members would hold cigarette lighters aloft. As mobile phones have increasingly nestled their way into our lives the lighter is most definitely with The Luddites. I accepted the sight of mobile phones held high above heads with scant concern at first. Reasoning that it was actually quite a wonderful thing to phone a friend & really stick it to them that they hadn't managed to get to the gig & now here's their favourite band in the world playing their absolute favourite song, even though in the pub the other night they'd sworn that they'd read a recent interview with the band that stated they would never play that song again live. I did it myself, to my Brother, when Sex Pistols played Finsbury Park in 1996. But now, mobile phones have developed photographic capabilities. Something I've yet to buy into. What I see now at gigs is these phone/camera hybrids held in the air throughout the entire show. There's no saving it for 'the slow one' anymore kids. Tradition be damned.

The new technologies are completely altering our behaviour and there's seemingly no stopping them. But as we all reel from the excitement of change and physically glow at the warmth of always being in touch, are we not missing the real point? Wasn't the lighter option considerably cheaper & more importantly, what am I gonna light my fags with?

Miles Hunt. January 2004.