News Kevin Myers

Thursday 8 December 2016

Kevin Myers: Memory murdered by know-nothing land of TV

Published 10/11/2011 | 17:00

I had been watching 'Downton Abbey' these recent weeks in the fond and fervent hope that the great Spanish Influenza Pandemic of 1918 would wipe out the entire household.

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And then, to my disbelieving horror, I discovered that last Sunday's programme was not the last. Far from the flu making short work of the entire cast, it had done for just one of their number: a seldom-seen waif.

Let me be frank. I have followed 'Downton Abbey' with the sick, bewildered shame of a happily married man that consorts with a one-legged prostitute who is older than his mother. "Why am I doing this," I cry each Sunday, trying to repress the waves of nauseated disbelief assailing me, as I indulge in yet another episode of this sorry farrago.

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