Intense Brain Crush Alert! Readers, Meet Charlie Brooker

There’s nothing that makes the Defamer Australia crew happier than falling in mental lust with the brain of a particularly side-splitting type. We’ve made our feelings about Never Mind The Buzzcocks host Simon Amstell abundantly clear in the past (on another website, but the abridged version of our romantic rant would pretty much be “MARRY US SIMON AMSTELL, LET US HAVE YOUR BABIES, WE’LL TREAT YOU GOOD WE PROMISE”) and proudly showed off his genius in a YouTube Clip Of The Day, but he is a homosexual and unlikely to take us up on our offer of a fertile womb and an easy heart.

We have quietly pined from a distance for New York blogger Worker #3116 (by the by, his latest post about George W Bush and Heath Ledger almost had us whoring ourselves out on the streets to pay for a plane ticket to the States) but his latest posts indicate the presence of a ladyfriend (at least we didn’t lose him to our rival Ms Fits), and so we must put all hopes of a blossoming international love affair on ice for the present time.

But praise be to the good interweb lords, because we just stumbled across the writing of The Guardian’s Charlie Brooker thanks to a piece republished in the Brisbane Times, and we’re in love. It’s real this time. We want you to be a part of it.

WELL HELLO, WELCOME TO MY HOME HEART.

Here’s the bit in the article about technophobes which particularly “tickled” our “fancy”.

Recently I was on a plane, sitting beside an 80-year-old woman who couldn’t comprehend how the in-flight entertainment system worked. It had a touch-screen monitor and an additional set of controls in the armrest. Thing is, she didn’t understand the difference between my armrest and hers. There I was, watching a movie in a bid to distract myself from the terror of being 30,000 feet up in the sky, when she patted cluelessly at my controls and switched it off. I started it again. Then she hit my fast-forward button.

At this point, I politely explained what was going on and attempted to help her operate her system. She nodded and went “ooh” and “ahh”, but try as I might, she just didn’t get it. Ten minutes later, she stopped my film again, and kept doing so intermittently throughout the flight, sometimes switching my overhead light on for good measure, just to annoy me. Her screen, meanwhile, displayed nothing but the synopsis for an episode of Everybody Hates Chris, which she’d selected by accident but never played.

Shamefully, I found myself starting to genuinely hate her – her doddering incompetence somehow rendered her less than human. Reverse the situation – put me in a 1940s household, say, and ask me to operate a mangle, and the chances are I’d earn her contempt with an equal display of ineptitude. But it isn’t the 1940s. It’s now. So snap out of it. Hit the right buttons or get left behind, you medieval dunce. Do you want the robots to take over? Because that’s what’ll happen if we don’t all keep up. How dare you jeopardise the human race like that.

So, somewhat predictably, we Googlestalked him. Turns out he’s been around for ages! He was behind the brilliant website TVGoHome! How did this razor sharp mind, this glorious man with a frightening ability to pen deliciously snappy works of Great Journalism, slip under our radar for so long?

NO MORE. We’ve got our eye on you, Charlie Brooker. We plan on worshipping at the altar of your gargantuan wit on a disturbingly regular basis.