I rate the guy who made up numbers. I think he's up there with the guy who made up sex. Without him having made them up we could never have built stuff or done the internet or anything. But the thing about numbers is there is always maths.
Bear with this because it’s brilliant.
Maths is like Gadget: sixteen, with a scum-tash and an Arran jumper being beckoned by a bosomy middle aged woman into bed. No joy in his sex. He's grown sideways. What a waste of time.
Maths is like Lol and Woody: two whole episodes in an hypnotically convincing cycle of misery, and mistrust and palpable, palpable, sexlessness.
Lol and Milk are well maths. It was all so exciting a week ago. Now Lol is beckoning Milk into a public toilet promising to let him do her from behind. Shane Meadows has got a maths brush out, painting everything good, bad.
There's so much sex around and so much misery that it’s impossible, at least for an evening hour, to separate them in your head. What comes out of it though, what has happened across the TV this nine o’clock, is a hideous burlesque.
Its an old trick but done well and innovatively. For ten minutes there is colour and excitement and football. Then suddenly its all misery and misery and (suddenly) horror.
It’s all so sudden!
And it’s suddenly so horrible at the end. Then you find out why Lol is so mathematical. Joking aside, the end of this episode was one of the most harrowing things I've ever seen on screen. The brutal and catastrophic rape scene which finishes the episode off, made me put my fingers over my eyes. It is a brave and hideous thing to do.
I think that that’s what I think about it.
Soz that isn't the end. The end was a big twist, smashing onto the carpet like 15 stone of scouse, neo-Nazi, mumbo jumbo. But that’s for next week. For now: well done to you Shane Meadows. I have a vein pumping in my head.
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