There are only three ways Britons have found to cope with ten months of rain a year. The first thing they tried was to enforce a globe-spanning business of colonial extraction through unspeakably brutal and yet exhaustingly frequent military holocausts, but that went out of fashion in the 1960s. Then they tried trainspotting, but this went to the dogs when they privatised the railways. The production of high-quality video content really was the final recourse of a population perpetually standing on a collective precipice of intrusive thoughts and year-round seasonal depression