Up until the late 1980s, British TV adverts were properly produced, if often uninspired, affairs. Then, as the 1980s gave out their death rattle, a cheap, nasty-looking, muddy-sounding, seemingly unending no frills abomination appeared in daytime ad breaks in between Home Cookery Club and the revival of Gems, in which an excitable voice-over breathlessly ran through the many kitchen duties that were slightly beyond the bounds of the Rap’Tou, a sort of hand-cranked food processor with a knife attachment and another bit that did something else and a sort of bracket on the bottom. Viewers dimly remembered similarly bare bones ads from the earlier half of the decade on behalf of the mighty Ronco empire, but these were altogether more brash, eager-to-please, and downright un-British, the evangelical voice-over continually asking itself awed questions the audience would never bother to put in a thousand years, only to answer them itself as if the secret of eternal life and everlasting personal freshness had been stumbled upon just in time for part two of A Country Practice. ‘Watch how Rap-Tou deals with this hard-boiled egg! Look! But where’s the shell? Amazing!’ Well, you carry on with that, we’ll just be outside. And that’s not all! Later came attempts to flog a job lot of plastic stacking chairs that had lost their legs by marketing them as The Abdominizer, a rickety-looking gizmo that enabled the lucky punter to ‘Rock – rock – ROCK Your way to fitness!’ After that, the deluge, and British commercial TV now consists almost entirely of depressing tat being flogged by shouty men.