M 6/26/02

Work Diary, 6/26/02

Last night, I watched a program on television in which a male lizard
essentially raped a female lizard who wasn't interested in the dirt
hole the male had presented as a new home. While the female was clearly
trying to get away, I wondered to myself if there are lizard
authorities to which she can go for this sort of thing.

Which is why television worries me. The television with cable service
sits in our guest bedroom (the other television plays only DVDs and has
its own room). We don't actually watch cable TV very often, but I've
learned not to tell people this. If I do, people automatically assume
I'm a snob and want to lord over them with my intellectual pursuits.
Quite the opposite is true, of course, because I find television
addictive and would love to spend my free time in half-hour increments,
the room growing darker as the programming grows more seedy. There is
nothing more satisfying than sitting down to a meal of microwaved
macaroni-and-cheese while watching HBO's "Real Sex."

Until the next morning, that is. Much like alcohol, a television
hangover can be a depressing and empty experience. There sits the book
on your nightstand, untouched and unread. The dirty clothes are
overflowing their hamper; the unwalked dog grows fatter by the minute.
Your mind is filled with such useless facts as Rosie O'Donnell's
lover's name and how many collies actually portrayed Lassie in the
fifties. If you're a news watcher, you quickly realize mankind is still
stuck in a downward spiral of greed, corruption, and overall
ickiness.

I know I've been watching too much TV if I'm able to keep up with the
pinhead in the mailroom, who knows the plot line of every sitcom since
"Mork and Mindy" (which presumably came out the same year the mail
clerk was able to read his first TV Guide). While most of my co-workers
have college degrees, it is rare indeed to actually enter a discussion
with one of them about a novel or, even, an "artsy" film. Granted, most
of these same co-workers have business degrees (meaning they never
stepped foot in a literature class), but still.

TV, she is a mean lady.