There are times when I get bored of all the exciting things I am doing and just want to vegetate in front of the old boob tube. Sure, I could be finishing my book, working on my first Steam Punk gun or learning new songs, but the old noggin likes to have a break from time to time.
I have 300 channels on my TV, just because. Sure, 20 are taken up by the NHL or NBA, neither of which I have any interest in; another 30 are Spanish language, and another 15 or so are pay per view. Take out the movie channels I don’t subscribe to and I’m probably down to about 140 channels, all told.
The odds are that any time I sit down to watch TV, which is fairly rare, something good or at least acceptable should be on the tele. While I can’t count on a QVC to deliver quality content, surely the old standbys would be there for me, churning out some rock solid content for me to absorb.
Not that I have to always have top tier TV. I admit that I watched the Rocky and Bullwinkle movie last week. If you haven’t seen it, Fearless Leader, played brilliantly by Robert DeNiro, was set on taking over the minds of America by showing really bad TV programs on RBTV; the Really Bad Television Network. Once they were sufficiently dumbed down by the likes of “Three Spys On a Horse, Who is Also a Spy,” they would do anything he said, including voting for him for president.
So imagine my surprise when I tune into television and there, waiting for me, was nothing but really bad television. I mean, Fearless Leader couldn’t have done a better job at the programming.
I could live with crummy programming on network television. There are few gems there today. So I just moved past the lower digits on the TV and headed for the middle numbers, which promised to provide something thought provoking.
First, The Learning Channel. Well, it’s TLC today. But that’s what it stands for, or should I say, used to stand for. I confess that I was momentarily mesmerized by the imbecilic child who seems to have her own show. It was like staring at a car wreck. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a Honey Boo Boo marathon. Yes, I had heard of this poor waif; a sure candidate for a protective services visit, she and her Mama June and Sugar Bear who have joined forces in the sack to bring us a little girl with the IQ of a baked potato.
Thankfully, my mind didn’t fully melt right there on the spot. I lost only 20 or so IQ points before I was able to click the remote and move on. I had to choose carefully or I would be reduced to Hillbilly Brain before the hour was out.
I quickly moved past A&E. While it used to be heavy on A, it’s very focused on E these days. I had seen a single trailer of Duck Dynasty and quickly knew that watching those guys from ZZ Top blowing duck calls and pretenting that money can buy you class wasn’t for me, even after an all-night drunk.
I tried to zip right past CMT as well, because, it’s a country station and unless they are playing music videos, their content can also drain the mind in mere moments. If you’ve ever seen My Big Redneck Wedding, you’ll know what I’m talking about.
Unfortunately, the remote slipped out of my hand momentarily and I landed smack dab in the middle of Redneck Island.
If you haven’t seen Redneck Island, let me recap. Host Steve Austin (not the Six Million Dollar Man Steve, but WWE “superstar” Steve), takes a dozen red, white and blue Americans out of their element and far away from cold beer to enjoy more cold beer and redneck competitions in the hopes of winning $100,000. This is my favorite part of the show’s description – it involves a number of “hilarious mental and physical challenges,” things like beer can crushing and trying to decide if one of the contestant you’ve been shagging on the show is really blood kin.
I reclaimed control of the remote and moved on. Discovery Channel. Nope – Moonshiners marathon. Discovery Channel 2, nope, – Amish Mafia.
I went with the fallback plan of intellectual stimulation, the never disappointing History Channel. It was disappointing. Mountain Men followed by Swamp People.
Another 20 IQ points down the drain. Damn.
Then it occurred to me. Perhaps Fearless Leader really was trying to take control of our minds. We seem to be dumbing down at an alarming rate, readily being spoon-fed whatever the powers-that-be want to feed us. We’re on an intellectual diet, one where Honey Boo Boo is an acceptable role model for our youth and the duck calling hillbillies are something we aspire to be.
It all went to hell in a handbasket with Survivor and Big Brother, the originators of the modern genre of reality television. For some reason, we just couldn’t help ourselves, getting strung out in the intervening years on the Bachelor, Real World, The Mole, American Idol, Ice Loves Coco, and hitting the skids with the likes of Nick and Jessica, The Real Housewives of __________, and of course, the bottom of the barrel, Jersey Shore.
Like heroin addicts we can’t seem to get enough. Mesmerized and hypnotized, we sit glued to the boob tube, which given the half-drunk, half-dressed women on these shows, seems to be the perfect nickname for this device.
I’m sure if we let Honey Boo Boo return to her mundane life with Mama June and Sugar Bear down by the railroad tracks in Georgia our own lives will be all the richer. We aren’t doing anyone any favors by tuning in to see her every week, or any of these other pseudo-celebs. We’re only institutionalizing something that I can only term abuse, abuse of the worst kind.
No silly, not child abuse. Self-abuse. We are doing it to ourselves, dumbing down to the lowest common denominator and taking our country down the drain in the process. Rise up before it’s too late. Resist at all costs… Resis
Sorry, America’s Biggest Loser just came on. Gotta run.
In the Emerald City, looking for signs of life on cable TV,
– Robb