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Friday, January 29, 2010

Daytime TV

In 1945, after a period of social and economic instability, the UN was set up, ostensibly to establish and protect the rights of man. These include the right to food, shelter and a lifetime of being forced to watch Angelina Jolie wear a beatific smile in Namibia as she continues on yet another child collecting... sorry, goodwill mission.

As the UN continued to grow and diversify, so too did the expectations of man. Now we expect the right to food, shelter, and a Sky Plus box, preferably in HD. Unfortunately for me, my idea of high definition includes watching stuttering videos online and my surround sound system is made up almost exclusively of the blaring sounds of snoring coming through the walls from the man next door.

I moved into my current abode because of the low cost of rent. "It's a beautiful house", the landlord told me. "However, there are a few things..." I waited to hear some sort of horror story; maybe the house was a crime scene, perhaps it was made entirely out of asbestos and matchstick heads. It was possible that a deformed ghoul lived in the attic, subsisting entirely on fish heads, the administration of which would be part of the rent agreement.

As it turns out, the house has no parking space, microwave, or television. All are workable obstacles, or so I thought. Being a garden variety type of dole scum, I have the time to walk places and thus have no car. I have the time to cook my own food, what with not having a go-getting lifestyle that would necessitate my porridge to be made in three minutes in the microwave as opposed to fifteen on the stove. All this free time works to my economic advantage.

Not so with the television. My daytime tv withdrawal symptoms are such that I almost cried because I had only managed to see the last thirty seconds of the Ellen Degeneres Show at a friend's house. The lights... the colours... the incessant dancing... I had to prop my head on the kitchen counter to prevent it from rolling off in shock. It was as if I was watching real life, but with more spot prizes and jabs at reality television starlets. It was life as the UN might have imagined it. If they spent all of their spare time on the couch with only daytime television for company.