TELEVISION / Small Screen

Just say no, kids Videohigh is the latest "concept'' in home viewing: it's a "Drug Video Tape'', comprising nine collaborations between video, computer and sound artists. Producer George Barber says: "It's designed for viewers who want to get stoned at home and need something to watch to enhance and further the process.'' So in the spirit of enquiry, your intrepid reviewer tried Videohigh totally faced on paracetamol and Lemsip, but all it "enhanced and furthered'' was an intense desire to sleep. Sadly,this wa s impossible due to the tedious plinky-plonky "ambient'' soundtrack. As for the images, they're your usual computer boffin's idea of "art'' - cliched space images, bikini-clad diving chicks communing with octopi, time-lapse film of Piccadilly Circus and so on ad nauseam. The style veers between that of a hyperactive Pink Floyd video and watching 2001: A Space Odyssey with a dodgy TV aerial while some idiot drowns out the Strauss with his Bontempi organ. If you're stoned you're far more likely to want to slam on Barbarella for a gigglefest than watch this rubbish. Still interested? Cheques for £12.99 to: G Barber, 117 Purves Rd, London NW10 5TH.

I want to make a complaint...

Another month, another Broadcasting Complaints Bulletin. Ms Cullen of Warwickshire complained about You've Been Framed. Surprisingly not because it's evil dross hosted by a grinning djinn, but because of a clip where a small dog was bathed and then hung on the line to dry. Sorry, Ms C, small dogs are good for nothing else. On to Mrs Brown of the West Midlands. She complained about the way Alan Partridge (left) treats his guests in Knowing Me, Knowing You. Does Mrs Brown not have any friends to tell her it's a parody? She was most upset by the scene in which a rival television personality was faced with his son, whose birthday he had forgotten. The Committee's judgement: "The scene was not real ... the child was unlikely to have been related to the `interviewee', and was probably a paid actor.'' Probably?

The right thighs TV exercise: you know the score. The man with the banana in his cycling shorts shouting "Come on people you're looking great"; contestants being thumped with padded sticks by some musclebound gladiator. Or, alternatively Standing Like a Tree, in one of f ive positions, for anything up to 15 minutes at a time - Channel 4's latest assault on the nation's health and fitness. The 2,000-year-old art of Zhan Zhuang is brought to you in 10 handy 10-minute segments by Hong Kong-born master Lam Kam Chuen (right)

in Stand Still, Be Fit (Mon C4 9.30am). He bursts with vitality, although you won't sweat, you won't pant and no-one will make you wear lycra. But this is no doddle. Try standing stock-still while you clutch imaginary balloons to your thighs with your elbows for just a minute, and you'll start to get the picture.

Serious monkey business The message from Tuesday's Network First, "The Plague Monkeys" (10.40pm, ITV) is this: the human race is going to die; and horribly. Strains of viruses, known as filoviruses, have caused three separate epidemics in both monkeys (right) and humans in Zaire, Germany and the US over the last 15 years. Victims start off with headaches. Then they begin to bleed through their eyes, mouths and every other orifice. Within 10 days they are dead. At one point, a researcher in the US Army alarmingly recounts how he collected a bagful of infected monkey corpses from a colleague, dumped them into the boot of his car and drove them back to the lab through the town suburbs. Suburbia, in fact, is mentioned more often than seems necessary. Diseases which can give a two-fingered salute to the accumulated knowledge of Western medicine are scary, certainly. But disproportionately so for those of us safely bolted away in our suburban fortresses, bearing in mind the dozens of curable diseases such as cholera and typhoid which rampage through the developing world. Perhaps filoviruses are just nature's way of reminding us pampered Westerners about something called karma.

Compiled by Serena Mackesy, Steven Poole and Maxton Walker