Welcome to Six Damn Fine Degrees. These instalments will be inspired by the idea of six degrees of separation in the loosest sense. The only rule: it connects – in some way – to the previous instalment. So come join us on our weekly foray into interconnectedne
To me when I was growing up, the anarchic sense of liberation that British humour offered on television was an essential tool to cope with the impending doom of the late stage Cold War world: Monty Python gave more than their middle fingers to conservative British society, their offspring (Fawlty Towers, A Fish Called Wanda) stretched the boundaries of propriety to the brink, and seemingly endless reruns of Rowan Atkinson in Black Adder and especially Mr. Bean cemented the sense of absolutely absurd, often silently physical comedy. I only discovered French and Saunders a bit later, but their spoofs of anything but the kitchen sink must have added another joyful layer to the rich cake that British TV humour became to me. There was a sense of security in having these characters and sketches available all the time, and their spread on YouTube and social media has made them even more timeless since.
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