WHAT IS life for? Quite possibly, it is pointless and we exist just for the sake of existing. In that case, we have to occupy ourselves as times passes, otherwise we’d go mad with boredom.

It’d be like watching cricket. Only forever. So we distract ourselves by going to the swimming baths, reading a good book, killing each other. However, evidence is mounting that the thing we do most to avoid the tedium of existence is: watch TV.

According to a poll of 2,000 people for an on-demand TV firm, telly takes up a decade of our lifetimes. Censure was implicit in the news, as if we should be devoting even more time to toil and evening classes.

My pointlessness is this: what else are we meant to do in the neverending evenings? Like many people, I’m currently reading a novel set in rural Norway in 1905 (the year when the country voted 99.95% — no kidding — in favour of independence from Sweden). Everything is chores, chores, chores.

Back then, folk working the land got up at 4 or 5. Consequently, they went to bed early and didn’t have much by way of evenings to kill. Now, evening taunts us with its perpetual demand: fill me!

That’s why television was invented. I go to classes twice a week, but the first thing I do on getting home is continue with whatever boxed set I’m watching. I’ve just re-watched the first seven series of The Big Bang Theory and am now starting for the first time on Star Trek: Voyager.

Both these programmes exercise the brain. In particular, regarding the latter, why does a spaceship crew in the 24th century wear trousers purloined from 1970’s bus conductors?

In our evenings we are free, apart from the irresponsible minority still producing children. Mind you, in the aforementioned survey, a fifth of polled punters watched TV during the technically unfree time of work. How is that possible? I suppose they do it on their phones, watches and pencil sharpeners nowadays.

On the teatime break before late working night on my local paper, I used to rush home to watch Star Trek, before boldly returning to compile the fish market prices. I see now that these were the happiest days of my life, though I was miserable at the time.

I was saddened to see the survey revealing that only a third watched telly while eating meals. Surely, that doesn’t include the evening meal? What else are you supposed to do during that? Focus on the food? Bo-ring!

If you have company, you could talk. And, indeed, that’s what I do when other folk infiltrate my house. By the same token, there’s nothing better than watching telly while cuddled under a blankie with your loved one — aren’t pets marvelous? — though I also used to like watching telly with big groups of pals. It felt like the ancient tribe being entertained by storytelling and, er, Match of the Day.

Given my tellyphilia, it’s hardly surprising that I was once invited to work as a television reviewer. However, after a few weeks of writing about my set’s size, colour saturation and ease of use, I felt I’d exhausted the subject and moved on to pastures new.

Television itself is gambolling into fresh fields. I’ve read on football discussion forums that 4D is better than being there. And, since the question asked most on big club forums these days is “what channel is the game on?”, you’re catering for a huge audience. Who still actually attends games? Is it the elderly? Is that why the crowds are always moaning and booing?

Top moralisers booing those of us who love screen entertainment better than smelly old life itself (at least the good guys always win on telly) will be horrified to learn that a cartoon hedgehog is pioneering an even more immersive medium called virtual reality television.

Henry, a dialogue-free 10-minute film, was unveiled earlier this week at a private mansion in yonder Beverley Hills. FYI, the hedgehog loves hugging people but is rejected because of his spikes. It’s based on a Jean-Paul Sartre story.

In this medium, all barriers are broken down. You are in the film. Fair enough. But if they bring out a version of Saving Private Ryan I’m giving it a miss.

Otherwise, I’m happy to miss a decade of my life thanks to television. Television rocks. Real life is unbelievable and has too many twists in the plot.