Steve Vizard does not like emoticons. Neither does John Elliott. This may come as a shock - you probably didn't know either of them owned a computer.
On the other hand, Tim Ross thinks we should use them sparingly. But then again, who died and made him the Emoticon Professor?
That's the puzzling thing about The Agony of Modern Manners (ABC1, 8.59pm). It's not that I don't like it - it's just that I'm not sure why I like it. Wednesday's episode is all about manners in the online world, and so a group of famous people talk about emoticons and abbreviations and trolls and online arguments and it's all good cosy fun, but the curiosity at the show's heart is the question of just why we are listening to them. They are intelligent people, and many of them are funny people, but all they're doing, basically, is saying: ''You know what I reckon?'' It's the genius of Adam Zwar that he somehow worked out how entertaining we find it to have people tell us what they reckon.
The danger, of course, is that the show might simply degenerate into Grumpy Old Men Down Under. Especially when you've got Elliott sitting on the couch next to his son Tom with a facial expression that suggests he thinks the human race has been on a downhill slide since the Industrial Revolution. That impression could be heightened by the parade of talking heads bitching about text speak, but luckily their middle-aged complaints are mostly pretty correct - it IS annoying when people say ''LOL'' and people who don't know the difference between ''you're'' and ''your'' ARE stupid, and dear god I'm becoming one of THEM.
That's the seduction of Agony of course - you can scoff and dismiss it as affluent whining, but then they'll hit upon your own pet hate and you'll be yelling ''YES!'' at the screen and realise you've been sucked into the gaping opinion-maw.
Its other great strength is the variety of its cast, allowing the viewer to pick his or her heroes and villains. For example, Lawrence Mooney is effortlessly, ineffably charming, while Steve Vizard should really zip it. It's a show that seems almost too simple to work, but maybe that's why it does.
Even more simple is the reason that Mad As Hell (ABC1, 8pm) works: it makes you laugh. The program guide description for this series final reads: ''The Stooges try to mine uranium to help their father pay for his surgery. They end up striking oil, but Joe tries to stop it!''
It's the magic of Shaun Micallef - even his guide blurbs are funnier than 90 per cent of shows on air.
MAH slices politics and the media to pieces in a uniquely silly way, and its only flaw is that it's not on 365 days a year. Soak it up while you can.
