There are very few shows that invoke a vocal response from the depths of my soul. It's fine to wave your fist screaming at a live football match, or weep in despair at an emotional climax in TV dramas. For me, I cry out in frustration at how stupid I could be while barking "YOU'VE FOXED ME AGAIN, MORECROFT!".
Yes. I shout at SBS's 6pm sensation, Letters and Numbers.
To be in a room filled with people who feel what I feel is a kind of communal therapy. We all create an alcohol-fueled hive mind. Words strung together by nonsensical letters become more "creative". Maths problems are considered successful when the solutions are "close enough". This is my pseudo-intellectual nirvana.
The night I went to saw Celia "I've never seen an episode of Letters and Numbers in my life!" Paquola played against cunning linguist and L&N panelist David Astle. Some would say it was an unfair match. Witnesses to their pairing that night would say it was comedy gold.
I would love to see this return next year for another season. A nice tnetennba.