TV and radio stations are eating our brains.
In order to survive an economy full of uncertainty, the networks and local stations appear to be assaulting our minds with more commercials than ever before. Regrettably, the audio and visual sensory bangers have become even more annoying with sound effects and sight concoctions seldom imagined in the past. Often, the worst attention-getters (particularly on radio) are repeated extravagantly over the course of just a few hours to make sure everybody gets the message. Unfortunately, faithful viewers or listeners get far more -- a repetitive assault to the senses demanding one's full attention. If you tune in to a particular radio station (yes, especially radio) all day long, the sound effects and endless repetition make war on your thoughts, dreams and intentions until you belong to the clatter. You are held prisoner until you either turn the device off or change to another station -- where you're likely to attain a similar assault. The historical tradeoff among listeners, viewers and predatory airwave snake oil sellers has never exhibited more desperation, all in the name of broadcast survival.
Years ago I worked in public relations and among my assignments was to support members of the legal profession. Like TV and radio commercials, my job was to make somebody or something look great and appealing. At times, I wanted to gag, because some people are simply just deplorable, and prettying them up was a chore beyond reason.
It's the same with advertisements among the electronic media, some products are great and some become a waste of time and money. I tend to regard various products based upon the frequency with which they are advertised. In some cases, the more something is advertised, the worse it is, and I would sooner seek out a competitor who is probably cheaper (not paying for all those commercials) and likely offering better quality because their time goes into quality instead of worry over how to make a lesser (or inferior) product seem wonderful via the media.
Whether it's "drive time" hours on the radio or peak viewing time on the television, this is the period when management often takes advantage of a heightened audience to concentrate on presenting many more commercials than usual. They can't be blamed, for this is the opportunity to make a profit and pay the bills. Still, I feel I must protest, and our best tool is to shop the competition until and unless broadcast management comes to its senses and reforms the brain-blasting commercials proliferating as a neurological assault on the senses. Yes, the media is the message. but the message, as in older days of broadcasting, can surely be toned down.
Yet, the sad result require that, visually, your favorite movies and TV shows have been edited, shortened and mutilated in order to make room for ever more commercial messages. On radio, your favorite shows with specific hosts should probably be renamed, "Welcome to Commercial Land" with your occasional host of insertion, John Smith. Not even radio talk shows belong to the hosts anymore, they having become little more than toothpicks to hold together the hors d'oeuvres of sponsorship.
(Bonus: The increasing use of a sponsor's family members in commercials, intended to somehow make them more trustworthy or cute to us, is an ego-booster for the sponsor but absurd for the unimpressed potential customer.)
The price? All of this is enough to drive one back to classical music on the local public broadcast station. Chopin's orchestrations never sounded better.
Living with the occult: Last weekend we witnessed the largest evidence of The Occult, alive and well as millions across the planet engaged in a little afterlife and life-eternal worship. Not only is Pope Francis finally dead, dead, dead -- topped off by the proverbial nail in the coffin -- but we can now expect the mystical ceremony of Catholic leadership locked in a room, secretly determining a successor's identity. Good grief, between this stuff and the world's fascination with professional athletics, there are times I wish I were anything but human. Pardon my blasphemy, but I kind of believe the Pope and a fresh road-kill squirrel were transported to the same place following death, except nobody dressed the squirrel up and made it pretty for the Great Beyond as The Faithful passed by to have a look. Oh, what we believe and how we believe! Methinks we may be doomed as the invasive species we appear to be. Minus our rituals we are but death's dust in the wind.
While the Catholic hierarchy determine the next pope's identity, I wish our American hierarchy would begin stripping the Catholic Church of its ability to steal our tax money in order to "settle" people from other countries whose existence here we all end up paying for quite handsomely. If the Church wants to be charitable, let the Church pay for the charity, all of it, from cradle to grave. No religion should be entitled to pick your pockets without personal consent.
Note to the Sacred College of cardinals as they ponder a pope: Instead of releasing either white or black smoke into the air (um, isn't this the pollution they grouse about?), why not display a sense of humor and release both blue and pink smoke, a birthing joke guaranteed to set the faithful masses spinning?
Everybody hates Trump: Attempting to clean up four years' worth of what Biden and associates left behind must be like trying to tidy up what 1000 elephants deposit over the course of a year, yet polls show many Americans clamoring for Donald Trump's end after just a few weeks. So just what WOULD they do with China, already using high tariffs to keep our products away from their country? And what would they do with China as it edges forward toward America's planned destruction? The Fentanyl aspect alone, responsible for thousands of deaths in the U.S., should be enough to characterize Xi Xi (we'll just call him number 11x2=24. . .) and fellow commies as the modern version of Nosferatu. A little Trump sunlight is required to diminish this troublesome, yet economically conquerable beast. The "dangerous" game Trump plays is accomplished for our benefit, and remember that the Biden bunch as well as its lying media buddies screwed us almost beyond redemption regarding truth, Covid, the economy and our place in the world. Nevertheless, there they are, the scummiest insects among Democrats in Congress, having consistently lost reasonable party members long ago, scurrying across the floor with even more threats of a new Trump impeachment -- and they will do it, given the next opportunity.
Oh, oh, oh Canada! You did it again. The election outcome was your choice, of course, but you may as well have brought Trudeau back. Did some of you really think your biggest threat was Donald Trump? Wait until your government cozies up more with China and the rest of the world's worst. The monster hiding under your beds, attired in shining maple leaves, brought back by popular demand, is political tyranny, and still you may find your freedoms stunted and your lives put at risk simply by saying or writing words. Did you not remember what Trudeau and friends did to Canadian truckers when they protested and lost so much just because they wanted fairness? I'll predict that it won't be long before Canadians reflect promptly and unfavorably about their cookie-cutter political choice with Mark Carney and the liberal party, as the ghost of Justin Trudeau's rule re-exerts itself.
