By now you’ve overdosed on contagion, testing, treatment, and quarantine, so I thought we’d talk about cable television. As you adjust to Hunker Condition 2, you’ll be watching a lot of cable or satellite. You may also watch streaming, but I don’t know enough about streaming to be of help; ask your grandkids. For now, we’ll examine the world of C-Spire, Comcast, Dish TV and the others.
According to many experts who write books, cable TV exists to make Mike Lindell rich by putting My Pillow products into every home. My Minnesota sources tell me that Mr. Lindell considers this a public service. I don’t.
When yet another My Pillow commercial appears on your screen, I know you want to close your eyes and scream. My advice is to go ahead. Your wailing will drown out whole minutes of prattle about sheets made from some miracle Egyptian cotton.
Commercials for My Pillow infest every program or series that I like. The paranoid among you may believe that the ads show up because my new smart TV is listening to me and thinks that our household is mired in a bedding crisis. Calm yourselves. If my TV is eavesdropping, all it will hear is my yelling. It won’t think I need pillows; it will think that I need counseling and medical help. Which leads us to the next cable topic.
Every year, the World Health Organization’s top 10 diseases wipe out 30 million of the world’s residents. If you watch cable television, you will be amazed that lesser known afflictions are killing or embarrassing another billion or so of us.
Drug manufacturers, who make things also unfamiliar to you, pay for these commercials. They offer esoteric elixirs and sure-fire potions that will have you grinning and giving the thumbs-up sign before you can say, “Holy Silver Bullet, Tonto, there’s a dark side to these preparations.”
The dark side is side effects. The US pharmaceutical community, Big Pharma to pundits, leads the world in the creation and discovery of side effects, which are horrible reactions that could result from using any of the concoctions that made all those actors smile and give a happy thumbs-up.
Chief among these unwelcome reactions is death, regarded by physicians and researchers as king of the side effects jungle. But others are fully as dreadful. Here are some that I found in A Trial Lawyer’s Guide to Shaking Down Big Pharma.
Severe blisters and peeling skin—forget that debutante event. Red, painful palms and feet—say goodbye to line dancing. Shooting pain, numbness and tingling—like a hangover, only worse. Loss of smell—a rare bright spot if your job description contains the words “port-a-john” or “septic tank.”
Unusual urges for sex and gambling—humiliation dating to football weekends of yesteryear. Nightmares and vivid dreams—adult entertainment you do not want. Wanting to crawl out of your skin—much like being caught at a Motel 6 with someone who is not a relative. The catalogue of horrors is endless.
Is there nothing worthwhile on cable television? Sure there is. The televangelists are fun to watch, and they can also teach you lessons about fundraising and hair grooming. The news offers balanced coverage of events, but only if you watch BBC, the major US networks, Fox, and one randomly selected CSPAN program. Sadly, whatever your politics, the news will disturb you. Happily, the CSPAN show will help you sleep.
The History Channel and the American Heroes Channel draw History majors and the better-educated survivalists, but here’s another warning: despite promo commercials promising heart-stopping and heretofore secret revelations, you will learn nothing about the Bermuda Triangle, Adolf Hitler, Eleanor Roosevelt or Bill Clinton that you don’t already know. I promise.
I close this instruction period with a personal recommendation: the movies shown on TCM’s Noir Alley are first rate, assuming you like black-and-white films that always end badly. If that’s too depressing for you, watch America’s Funniest Videos. You will see footage of Mom, Dad, reckless children, drunken Uncle Henry, and hapless pets, all victimized by cheap jokes and pratfalls.
In three minutes or less, you’ll be laughing out loud. AFV shows are even funnier than Joe Namath’s Medicare Coverage Helpline commercial. I guarantee it.
William Jeanes is a Northsider.
