I own a TV, I read newspapers and magazines, I look at the internet, I have an iPhone-computer-in-my-pocket. Every day I am bombarded by images of people who are famous. Sometimes, they are famous for good reason. They have a job that plonks them in the public eye. Sometimes they are famous because they’ve slept with someone famous and that little brush of stardust is enough to sprinkle them with notoriety. Which is all you need to be a recognised personage these days. Every day I am reminded that unless I buy this, watch that, eat this, drink that, I will be nothing without it.
I used to watch TV programmes, but now I just watch SBS News. Or sport and documentaries, again mostly on SBS. Or record programmes from other channels here in Australia, and whizz through the adverts. Mostly we watch DVDs. Or nothing at all, listening to the radio instead, but sticking with ABC, again because of the adverts and stupid DJs.
I used to by a newspaper daily, now I read them at weekends, and am finding I’m reading less and less of the paper. More often the paper is being added to the recycling, mostly unopened. What a waste of trees. What a waste of money. What a waste of time.
I used to look at the Entertainment news on Google, but now I’ve given up. Instead of telling me about plays I could watch, books I could read or films that were being made it is all about X-Factor, I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here, Dancing or footballers wives.
I used to love my iPhone. But now I am fed up with my husband playing Angry Birds all the time. On the couch, in bed, in the dining room while I am cooking in the kitchen. I’m fed up with squinting at the screen when I try and write anything on email, or on here. Despite the application I can only see about 3 or 4 words at a time, even when I try and zoom out.
I’m over it. As they say over here.
I’m over my television schedule being filled with cheap to make, rake it in through phone calls trash TV; or sending a camera crew out to film police/fire/rescue/border control/hospitals and editing stories together to make a programme that wasn’t there to begin with, but because someone has been burnt, injured or operated on it’s a story that can fill half an hour. I’m over women thinking the way to make money is to stalk someone’s husband, shove your tits in their face and get a photo with them, claim you’ve had sex to get your 15 minutes of fame, which is only a picture of you pouting suggestively over a football or golf clubs or whatever else symbolises the field the husband is in.
I’m over images like this:
I’m over people having to take restraining orders out against people taking photos of them so they can take their children to school.
I’m over sitting in front of a screen all day at work, then peering at a screen in the evening, or sitting at my lap top, or avoiding crap on TV when I want to be entertained for an hour or so. I’m over normal television shows having 10 second pauses in to heighten tension, I’m over children thinking the normal democratic way to vote is to phone a premium rate number. I’m over children wanting to be famous, but not having any ambition to go to school, learn and earn their path to fame through worthwhile means. I’m over genuinely talented people not getting a break because they don’t look good on TV and won’t get good viewing figures.
I’m over trying to decipher what is actually news: there are miners stuck underground in New Zealand; North Korea is attacking South Korea; Aung San Suu Kyi was released in Burma after a fixed election, so the democratic right of that country to vote (without phoning a premium rate number) was controlled by the Military Government; but the headlines are talking about two women: one who wanted to chain pregnant women in labour to beds, because they were prisoners, but she is doing a foxtrot this week and doesn’t she look funny! Or the vapid ‘Dr’ who is in the jungle and fainting all the time, who threatens to sue people who disagree with her phoney medical qualifications and, at best, ambigious claims across her range of health foods.
I’m over my Twitter feed being filled with shitty reality television soundbites, when it used to be funny, informative and moving.
I am fully aware of the irony of this rant being on a blog, don’t worry, I get it. There was an article on a 30 day silent retreat on Woman’s Hour, can someone book me a place? Maybe by the time I get out some semblence of order would be restored. Nurses, doctors, policemen and women, school teachers, people who have jobs that actually matter and enhance the world would be celebrated, recognised and paid stupid amounts of money instead of page 3 girls and footballers.