A good part of the words I read and hear, compose rhapsodies to an understanding of our world which must be shared, because only when it is thoroughly shared will there be a harmony. Then there is the argument which suggests that our understanding of the world can never be shared, because, despite rumor to the contrary and like it or not, harmony already exists. And here, those who compose rhapsodies to understanding are seen as not much better than wing-dings in the firmament or 'cry babies' or '48% of the population' or 'food stamp recipients' or 'rightwing lunatics,' and the list becomes rather endless.
I guess that somewhere between these poles lies the reason I'd rather slit my
wrists than watch the 'Academy Awards' or 'Miss Universe' or 'The Grammies' or
'The State of the Union Address' or 'The Winter Olympics' or 'The Super Bowl' or
'Television Programs That Require An Endless Back Story When You Just Want To
Know Who Dunnit and Don't Really Give A Damn If The Lead Detective Had An
Unhappy Childhood Or Has Been Divorced Eight Times.' And this list too could go
on to fill several pages. However I could dramatically reduce it were I to
take a sledgehammer to the television set.