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My wife knows I'm going to burn our telly
And that there's nothing she can do to stop me
My gut's full up with half baked reality
With it's personalities that incite me

Then there's trumped up news with an agenda
Too often their villian is not the offender
Truth of the matter rarely what they render
Justice and destiny mixed in a blender

And the option of watching a rerun rerun
Pales when darning ragged socks is simply more fun
Blame the programmer's memory if they have one
It gets worse each year; can't imagine what's to come

My weakness is sport which I fear is addictive
Joy and angst fed by patriotic invective
Milking athletes private lives now the directive
Going by the ratings it's proven very effective

A chair near the set watching day in day out
And you'd be none the wiser what life's about
So rare to find a gem; it's a broadcasting drought
The match is lit soon we can talk rather than shout

. . . we can talk rather than shout

How many houses have I been in where this is the case!?! So true. Great line.

I agree with your commentary on 'telly world,' Granty. I didn't burn mine, but unplugged it in 2001, before September 11th. Use it now only for watching videos and dvds.

However, just got a 5"-screen one for emergencies... will play by plugging into the cigarette lighter of a car or the wall; or with batteries. Good to have for hurricane season.


~ Lizzy

Thanks Lizzy,
Something’s wrong when we go from
Television as escapism
to
Escaping the television.

Granty

Granty,

There really is something horribly wrong. Something that leaves a bad, muted taste in your mouth. It's when you realise how those multi-nationals get into your brain, your daily banter. How they manipulate the show. Showcasing their wares for you to buy obediently. And it's always been there. All over our lives. Being pulverised by advertising, by sponsorship. Until you don't even know; even start barracking for the company.

The instigator/generator of media is money. Television, radio, computers etc. there's no escape. It is insidious, just waiting to strike when your guard is down.

Cool poem - got me thinking.

In peace

Boss