Fraggle Rock was as good as I remembered, but Count Duckula was much, much worse

CITV's Old Skool Weekend pricked the bubble of childhood nostalgia for Bim Adewunmi.

What's your earliest memory? I have trouble remembering which of my memories are mine and which I've heard so many times as family folklore that I've reassigned them to my personal memory bank. What I have no trouble remembering is childhood television. The flickering box in the corner of the room was very much on while I was growing up, and changes in location – from east London to downtown Lagos – meant nothing in the grand scheme of my watching habits. So I remember Rainbow quite clearly (and being very distressed whenever somebody zipped up Zippy), and I have fond memories of singing along to the Jimbo and the Jet Set and Muppet Babies. I laughed at Dangermouse and The Trap Door and I watched the repeats of Vision On and Hartbeat. So when CITV announced their 'Old Skool Weekend' to mark their 30th anniversary, I was somewhat pathetically excited. This was my first error. As anyone who's ever met their hero will tell you: don't do it - they'll only let you down.

I settled in on Saturday morning, expecting to be hit by a wave of potent nostalgia and got… nothing. I've always resisted the charge that children's television has got dumber over time (honourable mention: Fairly Odd Parents), that the Golden Age of children's television was largely behind us by the time we hit the 90s. But perhaps the atrophying had begun even earlier. I started with T-Bag, and was shocked by how average it was. What had enchanted before merely delivered the basic goods. I shrugged it off and went to make a cup of tea. 'Count Duckula's coming soon,' I thought. 'And that was ace.'

An hour later, I found out the miserable truth about the Count: he was rubbish, wasn't he? How did he so successfully hypnotise us into believing his greatness? I sat, stony-faced and angry with myself for remaining seated. Such was its badness, it failed to elicit even a smirk from me, and I am a known smirker: I will laugh at the silliest of things. Carrie Bradshaw-style, I couldn't help but wonder: was I being overly harsh? Had the joy and innocence of childhood been so successfully leached from my heart, leaving only the tiny lump of coal that is a prerequisite for an embittered TV column? Short answer: no. Because Sooty and his friends were as charming as ever, their high-pitched squeaks a soothing balm to my disappointed soul.

Thank God also for Fun House: Pat Sharpe's limpid eyes, Melanie and Martina, a studio full of overexcited children, plus a briefly disconcerting bit when Pat asks a young contestant who likes dancing to "show me your booty, get on the floor!" (she does an adorable side running man). Knightmare carried on hitting high notes. This was nostalgia! Bad (but quite exciting at the time) graphics? Check. Children from the Home Counties (Simon, Derek and Daniel – names very much at home in the early 90s) helping Barry get through the course? Check. Hackneyed dialogue delivered by actors emoting far too much for the show in question ("nothing can save you except knowledge")? Check!

Straight after, Fraggle Rock came on. I had been obsessed with this show, going as far as writing up exciting fanfic for the Doozers, a move which, with hindsight, makes me view my younger self ever more favourably. Thankfully, the Henson magic was undiminished, and in a marvellous half-hour I was utterly entranced by the antics of some felt and fleece muppets. Incidentally, it was my favourite ever episode, one featuring Convincing John and his harmonising acolytes, which made it even more special. Here was a programme that truly spoke to the adult as well as the child – the mark of a great children's programme, yes? Now, I could see the evangelical fervour of John's performance, his 'hypnotic' powers had that sheen normally associated with the charismatic cult leader's, his jazz hands – and moustache – the pure theatre of Little Richard's rock n' roll. Watching it and getting all of this as an adult was an unexpected and welcome surprise, and only served to enhance my enjoyment of the show. Fraggle Rock gets it, Dangermouse gets it, Hey Arnold gets it. And in twenty years, Horrible Histories will get it.

Clearly, my discontent was not echoed by the vast majority of viewers: the Old Skool Weekend drew CITV's biggest ever audience. Nostalgia sells. It's part of the reason why Heinz continues to do so well. The thing is, brand heritage takes us only halfway – Heinz ketchup still manages to come out on top in blind taste tests, too. In the taste tests of television, the shows that get it, the ones where re-watching does not erode the legacy, are the ones we need more of. That way we get rewarded twice: now when it counts, and or the future, when we're basking in the glow of warm nostalgia.

A scene from Count Duckula.

Bim Adewunmi writes about race, feminism and popular culture. Her blog is and you can find her on Twitter as @bimadew.

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Tetris and sleep deprivation: how we can help emergency workers cope with trauma

First responders are at serious risk of developing PTSD during events like the Paris attacks. 

Some people seem able to deal with anything. They save a stranger from bleeding out in a bombed restaurant, protect passers-by from heavily armed gunmen, pull dead and dying people out of collapsed buildings, and they keep going because it is their job. These people are first responders.

When trauma goes on for days, as it has recently in Paris, however, the odds of them bouncing back from the violence, death and injury they are witnessing rapidly diminishes. They are at greater risk of developing a severe stress reaction known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). One study found that the worldwide rate of PTSD among first responders is 10 per cent, much higher than the 3.5 per cent rate among those not involved in rescue work.

Tetris to the rescue

So how best to address the problem? Research is in its infancy, but there are some promising studies. Emily Holmes’ group at the University of Cambridge has been looking at the benefits of playing Tetris, a video game, after a traumatic experience. The idea is that this could block the consolidation of traumatic memories so they don’t “flash back” later on.

For the study, her team first traumatised people by showing them distressing footage from public safety videos. The next day they invited them back into the lab to reactivate the memories with still images taken from the videos. One group then played Tetris for 12 minutes while the other sat quietly. Over the following week, the group who played Tetris had about 50 per cent fewer unwanted memories from the films compared to the group who didn’t.

The team concluded that playing Tetris helped individuals because it soaks up their visual processing capacity, making it harder for the brain to consolidate the visual parts of a traumatic memory.

Since it takes about six hours for the brain to cement a memory, the key is to play the game soon after trauma or within six hours of re-activating the traumatic memory. How long the helpful effects of playing Tetris will last and whether it will translate into helping people after real-life trauma is still unknown.

Talking it through

Other techniques, such as “updating”, taken from a highly-effective talking treatment for PTSD, may be more practical and easier to implement.

Like a detective, updating is a technique that focuses on finding new information and linking it to the case, the past memory. This is necessary because when the brain and body are in survival mode during trauma, the mind finds it difficult to encode all the relevant facts. Often key pieces of information that could make the memory less traumatic are lost. Updating links new information to someone’s memory of their trauma to make it less upsetting.

But can updating help to reduce unwanted memories after trauma?

We carried out a study, published in PLOS ONE, in which we traumatised people by showing them terrifying films of humans and animals in distress. We then divided our participants into three groups. One group watched the films again but were given new information about how long people suffered and whether or not they lived or died – essentially, they were updated. The second group watched the same films again but without the new information. And the third group watched films of humans and animals who were not in distress. The updated group had fewer traumatic memories and PTSD symptoms than the other two groups.

Updating is now being used by some UK emergency services. First responders will gather after critical incidents and update their memories of what happened before they go home.

Sleep deprivation

There are other techniques that may be helpful. One study found that depriving people of sleep may be useful in the aftermath of trauma.

But the same study found that a week after the trauma, people who had been deprived of sleep had the same number of unwanted memories as people who had slept well afterwards. Consequently, it remains unclear whether there would be any long-lasting benefits using this method. There are, however, certainly health risks linked to lack of sleep.

Still looking for a solution

To develop preventative interventions, we need to study newly-recruited emergency workers who haven’t yet suffered on-the-job trauma and follow them over time, spotting which “coping styles”, present before trauma, may predict their reactions afterwards.

For example, some people naturally react to stressful life events by dwelling on them, thinking about why they happened for hours on end. This strategy, called rumination, has been linked to PTSD in people who survived car crashes.

If rumination predicts PTSD in first responders, then preventative interventions could train people to spot when they are dwelling on an event and refocus their attention to the task at hand.

When we have identified which factors heighten emergency workers’ risk of developing PTSD, programmes can be developed to target those vulnerabilities. Only then can an intervention, directed at first responders most at risk of developing PTSD, properly protect them in their line of work.

The Conversation

Jennifer Wild is a Senior Research Fellow in Clinical Psychology at the University of Oxford

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.