Charlie Brooker Quotes

Resist the mind probe. Thicken your skull. Staple a doormat around it if necessary. Keep those thoughts trapped inside where they belong. Because if the imp of the mind ever sidesteps the body and gets its hand directly on the steering wheel, humankind can look forward to six months of unpredictable chaos, then doomsday.

Everyone's opened a drawer and been startled by the unexpected discovery of an old mobile phone that now resembles an outsized pantomime prop. To think you used to be impressed by this clunky breezeblock. You were like a caveman gawping at a yo-yo.

If you are complaining about a banal pop song but can't muster a more inventive way to express yourself than typing "OMFG BITCH YOU SUCK", then you really ought to consider folding your laptop shut and sitting quietly in the corner until that fallow lifespan of yours eventually reaches its conclusion.

It's as realistic as a cotton-wool tiger riding a tractor through a teardrop.

Take ebooks. Apple's own iBook reader app may be nauseatingly pretty, but it's not a patch on Amazon's Kindle, which, far from being just a standalone machine, is a surprisingly nifty cross-platform "cloud" system that lets you read books on a variety of devices, including the iPhone and iPad. It even remembers what page you were on, regardless of whichever machine you were reading it on last.

Santayana remarked that those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. But if you have forgotten history, you won't know you're repeating it, so it won't matter.

Complaining about the lack of realism in EastEnders is like moaning that Monster Munch crisps don't taste of monsters.

Balls to aspiration, it's a tosser's mirage.

I was never a proper critic...a "proper critic" is an intellectually rigorous individual with an encyclopaedic knowledge of their specialist subject and an admirably nerdy compulsion to dissect, compare and analyse each fresh offering in the field – not in a bid to mindlessly entertain the reader, but to further humankind's collective understanding of the arts. True critics are witty rather than abusive, smart rather than smart-arsed, contemplative rather than extrovert.

Perhaps spatial reality functions differently on the other side of the Atlantic, but here in London, something that is “two minutes’ walk and round a corner” from something else isn’t actually “in” the same place at all. I once had a poo in a pub about two minutes’ walk from Buckingham Palace. I was not subsequently arrested and charged with crapping directly onto the Queen’s pillow.

Me, has this report

The greatest form of distraction, however, has to be the pursuit of swanky material goods. Nothing staves off that gnawing sense of dread quite like a spending spree. Maybe I won't get my legs blown off by terrorists if I buy enough aspirational bullsh*t? That's the spirit.

That's Glastonbury: a cross between a medieval refugee camp and a recently detonated circus.

'Proper work' usually involves performing a task you hate on behalf of people you'd gleefully club to death with a bull's knee if only it were legal to do so.

The internet. Can we trust in that? Of course not. Give it six months and we'll probably discover Google's sewn together by orphans in sweatshops. Or that Wi-Fi does something horrible to your brain, like eating your fondest memories and replacing them with drawings of cross-eyed bats and a strong smell of puke.

This is clearly an administrative error. I feel like I've been badly Photoshopped into the whole thing. I consider Newswipe not to be in any way entertaining. I don't think we'll win. I think it would be a sign of the apocalypse coming if we win.

Snakes. They're like bits of rope, only angrier.