i don’t believe in television. i mean, of course i believe in it. in the way that you see it and it exists. not like the tooth fairy or easter bunny who only maybe exist. for a million years i didn’t even have t.v. i chose not to. there were a thousand other things i could think to do with my time and it just didn’t fit into any of those things. it wasn’t compelling enough, couldn’t hold my attention. it seemed to me to be a large canvas of crises and people unhinged. redundant situations where people searched in vain for the answers to a difficult incident; desperate to find coherence, understanding, meaning, reason. wasn’t there enough of that in real life? why seek it out in a little box in my living room? and furthermore, why pay for the displeasure?
but then i moved out to the crunchy. out here in the crunchy if you want internet service you have two choices: dial-up or cable. i’d sooner stick hot needles in my eyes than go back to dial-up. the results would be much more satisfying, i’m sure. i expect to die soon and i’d just as well not die while waiting for achewood to load. if it’s all the same to you. i could die having missed something important and that would never do! so cable it is. but with cable broadband comes cable television. there was no choice in the matter. of course, i could refuse to hook up the tv, but i was curious. i’m the cat that curiosity did in. that’s who i am.
so i started watching. and do you know what i discovered? i hate it. i loathe it. i despise it with the intensity of a thousand, million, kabillion burning suns.
ha! if you thought i was going to say it’s not so bad, really, boy were you wrong. cause i was right. and you, you were wrong. wrong! television is so full of evil. it just zaps you of any coherent, independent thought. you see all these beautiful ugly stupid smart people doing all these beautiful ugly stupid smart things and it just…well it just makes you shake your head in disgust is what it does. i just love how every advert for every show says something along the lines of, “all new never been done before groundbreaking television” when really everything looks so much like everything else. it’s all the same thing but in different clothes. on a different night. at a different time on a different channel. originality is dead. and we killed it.
we killed it because we buy into this garbage. we keep it on the air with our rabid viewing. our need to find out who killed JR. or is that dating myself? is that so second grade? i guess now we just need to know who the bachelorette is going to marry. or who was voted off the island and/or house this week. or whatever passes for entertainment. i guess even that’s dating myself. cause those shows aren’t even fresh anymore. we’ve moved on. newer, fresher reality shows have taken their place now. i don’t even know what they are. they move forward so fast, at such a frenetic pace i can’t even keep up.
me, personally, i’d rather see something truly original. but i don’t even know what that is. does anyone? i can’t define it. my senses have been dulled by corybantic infomercial hostesses who shriek that they can’t BELIEVE they are being allowed to offer these low, low prices. they promise to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. and so i watch. but they never do. they never do. they just keep kickin’. they don’t even have palpitations. the paramedics have never even been called. i tune out. i feel so robbed. what good is a cubic zirconia mood ring if not purchased from a screaming banshee on a stretcher? that‘s a keeper. that i’d tune in for.
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.

Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.
But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:
"It is time to get drunk!
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"
Charles Baudelaire













I thought it might be a post about milk, but thats UHT. Perhaps you could try watching a carton of milk?