Now I have a problem, and that problem is Charlie Brooker. Here I am at the start of my blogging career (use of the word career to be discussed in a later post no doubt) and I am already in the shadow of a rather well known figure.
I rather think I should like Charlie, Mr Brooker, The Brookster, Chazzie B, the self-confessed man with a face like a rucksack full of dented bells – except I don’t right now. The problem is that he’s been so gosh darn successful that he’s everywhere; with the launch of Ten O’Clock Live he’s even potentially partly responsible for stopping Jimmy Carr perpetually cracking one liners in favour of casting opinion. What Brooker has achieved – along with the likes of David Mitchell, Chris Addison and others of the newest ‘new-wave’ of fresh talent to join the ranks of the ever-less-fresh-because-some-young-upstart-is-now-the-‘fresh-talent’-the-bastard – is to crystallise the power of the cogent nerd. He’s armed himself quite effectively in the age of information with brain guns and logic bombs which he then gleefully uses with wilful irreverence in an attempt to try and forget the generations of repressed vindication he no doubt feels for the geek demographic. This incredible canker of a man has taken the message that intelligent children have been sending for countless aeons to their hormone-riddled school aggressors (not just the PE teachers, of course) – it’s our day now. That’s right, brains actually do matter in the end.
So what do I do now? I mean the bastard has stolen my angle, clearly. Ok, he got there first, and has defined his own style, has made multiple television series and had more articles in print that i’ve had cups of coffee (at the risk of pedantry, I’ve quite a lot of hot dinners) but that’s beside the point. He makes me want to infiltrate his life like some creepy psycho-thriller so that I can wear his clothes, live in his flat and use his rhetoric to cover my own and jump out of the shadows at unsuspecting people like a depraved intellectual cannibal shouting ‘Brooker-Brooker-Brooker!’
So here I am – long-time proponent of garrulous verbosity and unfiltered rants, first time writer. I have a request of anyone who reads these blogs and that is to decry my mimicry, if it happens. From this point onwards: Brand me a Brooker, paste the lyrics of Popscene (clever clone…), put a picture of the Borg up, just downright tell me to pack it in and do my own thing.
Unless you’re Charlie Brooker of course, in which case is there any chance you could move over and give an upstart a chance?