Last week, I watched, witnessed several murders, horrific accidents, cars flying in the air, bombs going off, a rape or two, a major financial crime, a bizarre political plot and people just behaving badly. Every day, another dead person, another investigation. I sat on the jury in a dozen kangaroo courts as the inaccurate or wildly incorrect details poured out. It is all too much. Now, I have to slow down on the TV shows. Can’t watch much more if I am to remain a high-functioning human being. The worst of this charade? The bizarre plot and the bomb were not fictional. A lost soul blew up part of downtown Nashville and well-respected constitutional lawyer Trump wobbled forth in antical action. I thought about all of it. How daily life imitates the art we feed ourselves with!
A serious part of today is: It is lockdown and lockout, a submission to l’emission as a replacement for up-close and personal. We are trapped at home with the remote. By inertia, we are drawn to the devil and his moving colours, shapes, his sounds. We can’t help but edge closer. This happens even though we have heard the warnings. It is nearly a platitude to make any remark in dismissive criticism about our television culture. If you are listening, ad nauseum shouts of “Hey, it ain’t helping us!’ fill the air as columns of smoke do from a fire. This is not a good time and not a good place to be.
It is too easy to flip through the parade of horrors and observe each over-decorated float as it passes. It is too easy to settle down amid piles of garbage. I see that ‘the vast wasteland’ is alive and unwell, unhealthy for us. My gut feeling is that the Maury Povich Show, The Nightly News, The Apprentice, Family Feud, re-runs of The Beverly Hillbillies or nearly any Netflix series have broken our culture complete. Nuance and reflection are become archaic words that no one understands anymore. We have no depth and we accept that as a way to live. We are numbing ourselves to cacaphony. We are losing faith, losing perspective. It has to come to an end. We will, otherwise.
The very last thing to do is to try getting the garbage flow to stop with legislation. Thumping bibles and threatening retribution are only a part of the play that must end. The only reasonable response to the rythmic assault is to turn away, on our own. It has to be my choice NOT to turn on the box, my choice to go for a long walk, my choice to walk away and stay away until the sellers of so-called art or so-called ideology revamp their wares. They will, it is up to our pocketbooks to dictate. The producers of garbage, need us to consume it. In this oligarchical, crowded west, we still have the freedom to choose.
Yeah. Still, leave an eye open, an ear to the ground…there may be a necessary action to take. These folks in the Brooks Brothers suits are a sneaky bunch. The best thing is to be aware but keep your distance. Don’t let the overflowing sewer soil your better selves. Keep a clean soul. This is a mirage, that plays across the large-screen…it has little to do with really quenching thirst.
Robert On The Air 