Colm O'Regan: David Attenborough is part of my five-a-day and Prehistoric Planet is appointment TV

Colm O'Regan: ''Skip intro?' says the screen. Not bloody likely. Sir David is part of my five-a-day these days.'

As soon as I see him gently amble into view, the blood pressure drops. David Attenborough, next to a big skeleton, is about to tell me about more dinosaurs. 

“Skip intro?” says the screen. Not bloody likely. Sir David is part of my five-a-day these days. I’m in a darkened room about to watch a 60-tonne Dreadnoughtus headbutt another 40ft-high Dreadnoughtus over mating rights while David Attenborough makes it sexy.

David Attenborough looks at an armadillo for 'Attenborough and Animals' in 1963. Picture: BBC Public Service.

I originally started watching Prehistoric Planet (the Apple+ series which reconstructs, with incredible detail, dinosaurs) as filler TV when home alone, when I didn’t want the commitment of starting a new series and was afraid of the divorce that would result from skipping ahead on joint projects. But now I look forward to it.

Prehistoric Planet is appointment TV. Part of my re-education on dinosaurs. Because children love dinosaurs, we generally learn about them up till a certain age and then we never learn any more.

Jurassic Park is 30 years ago. “Shur, those are theme park animals. We need to worry about the corncrake.” But, sometimes, and no offence to the corncrake, you want to just learn about things that are not going to make you feel worried. And this has been a revelation. Because for a yoke that died out 65 million years ago, there’s a lot I didn’t know.

I thought they were just giant scaly lizards, sort of stupid, abandoning eggs, generally doomed. But now we know all about the feathers, the colours, the sounds, the mating rituals, the complex behaviour. I mean, like, some of it I simply can’t believe. The Quetzalcoatlus — a bird the size of a giraffe that can run on folded-up wings like a bird drawn by a child on acid.

The best bit, the total absence of us. No humans. I haven’t got to the end of the series, so I assume it all ends well for the dinosaurs. But at no point does David Attenborough say: “But this is all under threat as logging threatens to destroy the coastal forests of Kansas” or “the construction of the new Brazil-Senegal bridge may lead to the displacement of thousands of these Argentinosauruses”. 

Every single death has a reason. None of it is for profit. And there are a lot of deaths.

Everywhere, it seems, has a form of Tyrannosaurus. But they’re all different. Some leaf-munching Honkasaurus (made that up) will be minding its own business and a familiar two-legged, tiny-handed, big-back-legged, big-toothed, almost tyrannical dinosaur will heave into view.

It could be a desert, the Arctic, or a forest. You’ll think, “Aha, it’s T-rex.” But no. It’s a Tarbosaurus, you dope. How about that, is that a Snow Tyrannosaurus? Why, my good man, it’s a Nanuqsaurus. How simple of you!

I guess there was a fashion back then for that big-arsed, legged, small-handed, vaguely Trumpish-looking carnivore. Like when the Avensis, Renault Fluence, Peugeot 301, Skoda Octavia, and Mondeo were all around the same time.

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Sometimes there won’t be any predators. Because the dinosaurs will be hatching their eggs NEXT TO A 30,000-YEAR-OLD VOLCANO.

I know they’ll come to an end. A comet is on the way, I presume at some point towards the end of the series, EastEnder Christmas special-style. I’ve made my peace with that.

One thing I’ve not made my peace with. What’s the David Attenborough plan? More important even than your zombie plan, what are you going to do when eventually you learn that he… listen, forget death, even just retires?

I don’t care about any other use for AI except for it being used to preserve his honey tones. But at least have a plan for when it happens. Make sure you’re near a loved one. There are some extinctions that just can’t be dealt with alone.