As Plato once said; "All good plans, however well intentioned, are one day gonna trip like a motherfucker and fall flat on their well-intentioned faces, is what."

Why The Duke Loves DVD - #332460

Back in 2002, The Duke was idly flicking through the channels on the TV, as is his wont on occasion. Something about Sexing In The City, something about The Wives Of Footballers, some other shit. But there on BBC1, was a program just started, by the name of The Boy Can't Help It. Five minutes in, The Duke was engrossed. So engrossed, in fact, that the thought of grabbing an old recordable video-cassette never entered his engrossified skull.

What The Boy Can't Help It concerned itself with, was being a follow-up to a 1989 QED documentary about John Davidson, a 16 year old boy suffering from Tourettes Syndrome. This 2002 affair caught up with John nowadays, some 13 years later, seeing how his life had came along, how things were nowadays, what with the Tourettes and so on.

It featured segments from the original program, such as an incredibly tense John walking around a supermarket with his mum, unable to stop himself shouting out things like "Fucking Nescafe" and "Cunt! Fuck!" whilst perplexed and disgruntled pensioners looked on. One scene had John's family, minus his father, sitting around the dinner table, trying not to notice as John chews his fish and then spits it into the face of his brother, following up every outburst by cowering behind his hands, tutting and trying desperately to simultaneously disappear into the fabric of his chair and also carry on a normal conversation with his mother.

Then we see John now, by way of contrast, as he jokes about his condition with a close friend. The friend explains how he can no longer tell John any particularly confidential secrets, since John has a habit of shouting out the information to whoever happens to be in direct proximity.

The documentary was amazing, at once incredibly poignant and touching, and also very funny, like when John suddenly slaps his hand across the rear-view mirror of a car, joking about how he's fixed the angle.

I was gutted at my own stupidity, my own baffling amnesia regarding the Ghostwatch debacle of '92. I had once again witnessed something that made a profound impression on me, and once again had failed to recognise its greatness in time for to record it.

For the next fortnight, all anyone heard about from The Duke was about this fucking amazing documentary about a bloke with Tourettes, and how I had been so stupid as to not record it, and you didn't happen to have a copy by any chance?