where the birdies meet and sing tweet tweet

As the days begin to melt into each other during my thesis write-up at home, I've become quite involved in daytime telly. From the Den TV kids' stuff on RTE2 to BBC2's stone cold trinity of great afternoon viewing - flog it!, pointless, and the hairy bikers - there's always something to dip in and out of during work breaks. Seeing as we are all here (and seeing as I have nothing better to do), let's take a look at some of it, yeah?

First, the kids stuff. Okay, it's for three-to-twelve year olds and deciding to review it is probably not the coolest or most constructive thing I've done here. But fuck it. I like to think I'm down with kids - not the 'kids' obviously (they go to Antics and I don't get them) - but the kids, the Farrely's rusks brigade. After all, my only sane friend at home right now is the three-year-old girl my Mam babysits. And, I have to say, she shares a good few of my general views on what's hot and what's rot on DEN TV these days.

Let's start with the rot. First up, this creature.

Yes, I am about to tell you about the creature you see to the left of iconic children's TV monster, Soky. Her name is Emma O'Driscoll and she was once a member of a failed Irish pop outfit called Six. She now presents on Den TV with the sort of ability, naturalness and grace that would make any mop-handle with a face painted on it pure jealous.

I know I am starting to sound a bit deranged here, but at least hear me out before you call the Gardaí. When Emma O'Driscoll appears on the Den, my mother invariably mutters "oh no, not that yoke" (again, she is not referring to the cloth puppet) and our three-year-old critic regularly implores "I don't like that silly woman with Soky".

And who could blame her? O'Driscoll's style of presenting consists of randomly erupting into strangled wooden laughter, giving the camera weird thousand yard stares, over-emphasizing syntax in a creepy way (those alien things called 'children' that you attempt to communicate with every day aren't hard of hearing Emma), and worst of all, oddly repeating the word Soky multiple times in every sentence until the hairy puppet's name is bouncing dementedly around the walls of your house like a strange entity in and of itself. A sample O'Driscoll sentence runs like this: "Soky, thats a lovely card that Eilish aged four sent in, isn't it Soky? Will we buala bus her Soky? Now SOKY make sure you join in now SOKY" - cue thousand yard stare, uncomfortably lifeless smile, and the buala bus from hell. Kids presenters need to be natural. Emma O'Driscoll is not.

Kathryn McKiernan, who presents a show called Kazoo, is the anti-Emma. Kazoo is a great laugh in its cheap and cheerful way. It's made for an older age group of kids, and is very much about getting them involved. While a lot of mad stuff goes on in the show - like silly physical tasks, quizzes, musical games, mini-science experiments and the like - its success ultimately boils down to the capable abilities of the presenter. She's spontaneous, always game for a laugh with the kids and well up for mucking around in a very natural likable way.

However, Kazoo might not be hot shit with its target audience. The three-year-old's older brother reliably informed me that all the boys in fourth class think "Kazoo is gay". Hmmm, well I'd love to meet some of these buckos and tell them that, for someone who hates Kazoo so much, this lad spends a lot of time watching it on the sly. He thinks he has himself well covered though - and loudly announces what a crock of wimpy shit Kazoo is whenever I walk into the room. "Alright, sure we can change" I say, second guessing him and switching to Bargain Hunt. Well now, if you could only see the look of seething, closeted Kazoo love that builds up in his eyes when I do that.

I know, I know, I'm playing mind games with a ten-year-old. But this is only one example of the many ways in which academic research can break a man. I've also managed to ease myself so gently and slyly into following Fair City that I still don't even know I watch it!

Oh and one last thing. There is a little cartoon which comes on every day about a gang of birds. It's called 3rd and Bird. It's great for the following reasons.

(i) It seems to be the only show on kids TV that isn't either about computer generated vehicles with lifeless human faces or a troupe of mouth-breathing aussies in furry animal costumes dry humping each other in front of a live audience of terrified kids holding balloons.

(ii) It's beautifully drawn, really short, and the songs the wee birds sing and whistle are so gentle, loose and practically hypnotic that it creates a zen-like calm around the house before lunch each day. It draws the three year old to the screen like a magnet, where she stands slack-jawed for five minutes, watching these little birds in baseball caps fluttering around and singing their way out a fix. Its one of the few shows on that reminds me of stuff I used to watch when I was small myself.

Normal service will resume on Saturday - from the wi-fi room in Mullingar mental hospital, no doubt.