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Cheap trick
prose [ ]
- I tried, I really did; but...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Autorul ]

2004-07-04  |     | 



"...take a quiet life
a handshake, some carbon monoxide
a job that slowly kills you
and no alarms and no surprises"
- Thom Yorke.

Ever notice how we don't laugh anymore? Unless we are TV programmed to do so. Even our emotions, the essence of our humanity, are rapidly becoming fully automatic. Guy falls down on TV, his FRIENDS laugh - funny situation - you are supposed to laugh. And you do. Most of the time. But that is not laughter in its real sense. It is just an automated response to an automated world, where, whenever you feel sad or bored, you can BUY your way to happiness and excitement:

"This just in: our luxury cruise in the Carribbean, now at an all time low of $1499.99, and you get a set of absolutely free coffee mugs". Or, one of my favorites: "Choose your furniture now, pay next year!" (never mind the ever so slightly rising inflation which means that next year you will probably owe twice the amount that couch is worth now). Need a date? Surf the web. Need some credit counseling? Surf the web? Need to get your daily fix of kiddy porn? Surf the web. Want to join Al-Qaeda? Surf the web.

I am not saying the Internet is a plague brought upon us by a corrupt society. That would be naive. I understand and accept the usefulness of the Internet - how do you think I am writing and posting all of this? My critique is that, much like we did with other technological wonders (radio, TV, cable TV, etc.), we tend to become over reliant on it and just eat up all the stuff it throws at us.

And television is quite similar. You can buy stuff on TV (if you are foolish enough or do not care who gets a hold of your credit card number). You can learn a foreign language or document yourself about Shakespeare's plays. You can go the extra mile and get pay-per-view to watch all the Hollywood crap and adult entertainment you want. You can find out about the mating habits of the buffalo or just how many millions did David Beckham make out of his Adidas and Pepsi endorsements. Pretty interesting stuff, don't you think?

My beloved Thom Yorke boils all of this down to an amazing four lines of pure, post-modern lyricism. It's all there. So what's the point of this little literary escapade of mine? To get you to question everything around you and to look up Thom Yorke. On the Internet :)

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