A blaring 100 pt type size used.
“Sit Back and enjoy new shows” in 36 pt screaming headlines
Such is the headline today on page DI of our Advocate.
Couch Time? Sit back and do nothing? Watch other people lead lives while your own turns to mush?
Egad, no wonder the Republic is a mess.
What a remote control society we’ve become, expecting to sit there, couch bound, demanding instant gratification of our earnest and no so earnest desires. If the remote’s batteries go dead, oh, such gnashing of teeth, that one would have to get up.
We got a fat society, somewhat, and our Advocate is saying “sit on your butt.” Sure, that’s the ticket.
Meanwhile, in schools across America, as near as I can figure, Ritilin and other psychotropics are given to 40, 50, maybe 60% of the boys, to calm them down. What a fool’s errand. What a way to diminish our capacity to be a great nation. Why not just give them wine and scotch, so they pass out?
What should be done is that infernal drugging of our children should be stopped, and the entire school day, week, year, etc, reconfigured.
Let those boys learn for a half hour and run around for 20 minutes, learn for a half hour, run around for 20 minutes. Let them dissipate their energy in play, not stifle it in drugged stupor.
I see the neighborhood kids up at unGodly hours, waiting for the bus. Then they come home well before the parents. We’re supposed to be training kids to work 8 to 16 hours a day – 8 on the job, 8 at the house doing house stuff, and 8 for sleeping of course. And we send them to school for a 5 or 6 hours, and let them out early, to wander the streets, or go home and just sit on the couch and watch TV.
No, kids should be in school from 9 to 5 – just like parents are at work. There’s more than enough to learn to warrant the increase in hours. All year long. I’m fairly certain we don’t need to have a three month summer vacation to help with the harvest. For the harvest now is more in knowledge, and one can learn nothing in front of a TV, on the couch. Nothing. Not even a History Channel show teaches anything. They give trivia, regurgitated two or three times, before the commercials, and then repeated after. And the camera zooms so fast, with flashing lights, like at a disco, so that naught can be observed or studied. For close observation is learning, not fleeting images in kaleidescope eyes.
And that TV – throw it out. Destroy that infernal device. For 35 years I lived without it. I’m currently forced to listen at my house to the near constant mush, since my 88 year old buddy is addicted to it, like a drug. He wakes up and turns it on like a coke addict snorts a line when arises.
What I hear is Jerry Springer, and Geraldo, and Joy Behar, and Will & Grace, and Anderson Cooper, and the talk shows, and the mush shows of unimaginable proportions. Ladling out brainless “opinion” with nary a fact except what someone may have said yesterday for their opinion and is now to be used as a “gotcha moment.” And I’m not sure I can separate the bunch. The news shows are just as “he said” “did not” “she said” “did too” as Jerry is. We’re a Springer nation. Sad.
Years ago, back when I turned my back on TV, and was the better for it, I saw what is now even more rampant – the soft core porn, the dysfunctional family presented as the norm, the dumbness of all men, especially fathers, the brainless stupidity devoid of fact and reason, the perfect looks, (so perfect the actors and actresses almost all look alike.) Body by Nautilus, brains by Mattel. The “all problems can be solved in less than an hour including commercials” mentality has stricken our society to the core.
And then Nancy Grace comes screeching on to alert us to the latest kidnapping and missing child. And John or Jack Adams, or someone, I don’t know – the kid with the child molesters caught one after the other. And the segregation on TV is amazing too, blacks in their shows, whites in theirs. Sad, as we reach for a post racial society, a society of cooperation, buffeted by the separation of TV.
Couch time. Sure, a nation in need of a psychologist to give my version of the twelve step program – which is just one step – get off your tuckus, get your act together, be who you are, and get to work, on something.
Bored. They tell me they’re bored.
I have no idea what that word means. I’ve never been bored a moment in my life.
I think it’s because I never sat on a couch watching other people live. I went out to live for myself.
Chuck the couch too.
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