Do not adjust your set
My dears, it’s that time of year! Spring has sprung, April has showered, and, like cicadas, proponents of a broadcast-free world have emerged from their burrows and climbed up metaphorical trees to shrilly proclaim it is Turn Off your TV Week.
You know the persons to whom I refer. “Television is mindless drivel!” is only one chant in a litany that also includes “Rock music is the voice of the devil!” and “Cupcakes are the first step on the road to
heroin addiction!”
As you may have observed, people who quit doing something bad are exponentially more aggravating than those who never did it at all; bored by the newfound silence of their homes, television denouncers wander the Earth, telling anyone who will listen to them that because they are virtuous, there should be no “Desperate Housewives” or “Flavor of Love.”
There is really no reason for you to suffer this onslaught of smugness. Allow me to provide you with a few choice responses to typical complaints.
• I never watch television. It’s beneath me.
— I think I can see your problem. It would be much easier to watch if it were in front of you.
• TV makes you have an unrealistic body image.
— So before you stopped watching it, did you think you were thin?
• All that sex and violence on cable is a terrible influence on children.
— Heavens, yes! I remember the good old days when the little ones amused themselves by playing doctor and pulling the wings off flies.
• Forget Rachael Ray. I’m going to devote the next six months to reading Proust’s masterpiece, “The Remembrance of Things Past.”
— Isn’t that the 4,000-page book about a French guy who remembers eating a cookie?
• Watching TV shortens your attention span.
— Did you just say something?
Finally, note that most of these condescending critics will tell you that their television is “in a closet” as opposed to “in the trash.” This is not because they are afraid of contaminating the landfill. Like holier-than-thou politicians with basements full of caged concubines, ostensible videophobes need an occasional binge to remind themselves of what it is they dislike so much.
Lady Arabella Snark (a.k.a. A.C. Kemp) is the authoress of ‘The Perfect Insult for Every Occasion: Lady Snark’s Guide to Common Discourtesy.’
