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March 24th, 2009:

In the (hic!) night garden

Continuing along my new theme of bringing out a new and cuddly Trashy – instead of constantly haranguing against (or is it “at”) Conservatives, religious loonies, stoopid people and things that acutely annoy me – I present to you today a critique of a children’s show entitled “In the Night Garden”.

I discovered this gem one morning at about 5:30 a.m., whilst lying on the bed in my spare room with my 5 year old who had woken way too early that day. Surfed through info-mercials, sports, etc. and came across this vaguely Dali-esque example what’s hot for the under 7 set.

I instantly realised that this was a kid’s show unlike other kid shows. For one thing, I first thought that I was suffering the effects of one too many Merlots the night previous and that I was finally experiencing a true visual hallucination.

But I looked beside me and my dear daughter hadn’t transformed to some nightmarish, shape-shifting robot, so concluded that this was indeed a real show and not a figment of an overindulgence.

The makers of the show bill it as existing in a child’s imagination – somewhere between waking and sleeping.

If I were given the job of inventing a tagline it would be:


Or something like that.

Allow me to introduce some of the characters:

This is Igglepiggle:


He’s the bad boy of the cast. At the end of each episode, after everyone has gone night-night, this rascal is still romping (naked) in the obviously pesticide-enhanced garden. He does eventually climb into his boat with a blankie and falls asleep while the boat sails away.


This cutypie is Upsy Daisy.

Upsy, clearly suffering from a sleep disorder, spends her time either sleeping – or dragging her bed along with her through The Night Garden in search of rocks that have gone missing – or chasing after Iggle Piggle. There is a definite sexual tension at work here folks that is just beneath the surface.

Her name also happens to be the title of one of the most underappreciated albums of all time:


Had to put that in.

Makka Pakka (below) seems to represent the adventurous part of the human condition. Or the hallucinagenic one.


He (or she – tough to tell) likes to teach valuable life lessons to the others. But the tragic part of Makka Pakka is that his vocabulary is limited to – wait for it – Makka Pakka. As in, Makka Pakka, Makka Pakka, Makka Pakka, Makka Pakka… etc. Because of this distant cousin of that wacky “Conehead” family, I now have to watch this show with the sound turned off.

One last character worth noting is the Ninky Nonk.


While looking like your average train ( “average” in the THC context, that is), it is quite unique in that it appears in and leaves scenes doing little more than making electronic beeping sounds and, uh, farting.  No useful role other than that of a beeping, farting, stoned train. Is this what CSNY meant by the “Marrakesh Express“?

In short, I strongly recommend this show if your supplier has become “unavailable” or you’re a frat boy or girl that needs a new idea for a drinking game.

My kids? They love this thing. Must be subliminal stuff going down.