The Tree of mrcury

I’ve been watching no television at all these past weeks. Ok, I’m always stuck here on my computer watching movies and series (and listening to music, but that’s another story), but I’m pretty sure I don’t really miss it. I’ve convinced myself over the years (and after in-depth studies @ uni, haha) that television isn’t but a means to control. Society controls itself by airing all-day its own self-celebration.

That can be really energy-consuming and it eventually ends up being the perfect sedative. All you see on screen is nice and good-looking. Rich. Happy. Beautiful. And when you happen to witness anything you wouldn’t like to see you can always turn the telly off. Worse: you think that after all what you see will never happen to you. That you can still change the channel, and tune back to the usual bliss: a never-ending parade of people winning big money on quizzes, hot-looking young girls and boys, movie stars, politicians wearing plastic masks instead of faces and displaying supposed rock-solid morals… It’s all there for you, with that familiar warm buzz on the back of your head.

What I’ve always been doing in my life is trying to look behind what is put before my eyes. Trying to get to see things from other perspectives, trying to understand how and why things work the way they do. Trying to get into the inside of things. Never accepting what is given for what it is because “that’s the way it is” or because it could be hard to understand. I’m always looking for the back door: sometimes to avoid deep involvement, but most of the times to learn what is being hidden, either voluntarily or involuntarily. I’ve always felt the need to unveil the marionette’s strings, so to speak.

Television is the perfect example of something that is meant to be mere appearance: the content is much less important than the form. Everything that’s behind the scenes is cautiously hidden, or shown only on particular occasions. There is probably nothing more boring than a television production. At least, for the audience. And boredom is probably sliding down into fear, as “unveiling the magic” could cause the meticulously built structure to collapse on itself. Nobody wants that. People want control. They need it, not to feel lost. Not to be left alone with their own self and its complaints. Because it is clearly easier to be part of the happy mass of the sedated, thinking that everything is fine as they are told all the time. There’s no space for doubting that what they see is what they are, or they’ll collapse too.

No harsh feelings, but I’ll leave all that to those who still think that there is no back door.

This entry was posted on Monday, April 3rd, 2006 at 01:39 and is filed under Society, Communication. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.