Not so long ago, Polly and I acquired our first TV for something like five years. Our primary motivation in this was annoyance at watching movies on the computer, which at the time was living under the stairs: whenever we felt like renting a DVD we ended up sat on the floor in our corridor watching on a 15-inch panel monitor.
Now I dunno about you, but I don’t think that there’s actually a great deal worth watching on TV these days. We certainly never really missed having one during the last few years – between the internet, BBC Radio 4 and the papers we got plenty of mass culture and current affairs. But since the one-eyed god returned I’ve noticed a distinct tendency in myself to sit and drool over anything vaguely watchable that happens to be on. You can take “vaguely watchable” to be a sadly all too inclusive category.
I have been trying to be discriminating about what I sit down to watch but TV becomes a habit, and I’m prone to those. Earlier this evening I picked up the TV guide and desperately scanned it for something “vaguely watchable”. Not instantly finding anything, I even started to consider watching a Manchester United football match before catching myself.
I’m reminded of one of our main reasons for not getting one sooner: it’s too easy to find yourself getting up after four hours in front of the damn thing when you only intended to watch a single half-hour show. It’s also easy to get so used to it that the concept of relaxing without turning on and tuning out becomes an alien one. Ach, dammit, I’m no good at self control.
Anyone got any cigarettes?