This Post Contains No Spoilers

25 05 2006

Whenever I make mentions of The Man in writing or conversation I picture a dignified, elderly caucasian man sitting in a bunker. This bunker is outfitted with all manners of plush comforts and amenities, but its central focus is a ginormous video screen, framed at the bottom by a series of red buttons, levers, and the occasional diode or vacuum tube. It’s not exactly up to modern electrical spec, but again this guy is pretty old. The Man, comfortably seated in his executive-styled leather office chair, slides back and forth on a rail system that allows access to the multiple controls that are used to administer every happening in the world around us. The room is largely silent apart from the Kenny G playing softly through overhead speakers (that would certainly explain away his unfathomable success), occasionally punctuated by the Uppity Minority Alert. It turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong.

As a white person, I am contractually committed to do brunch with The Man at least once a year. It used to be that you could just have lunch with him, until the Caucasian Council decided that brunch was “a far whiter meal” and thus became the standard. Usually it is a simple meal, accompanied with polite conversation about the weather with no political undertones. After all, The Man spends most every waking moment of his life engaging in social manipulation and is quite content to just leave the office at the office when possible. However, at our most recent encounter, I had been sitting on a pet theory for some time and would not be deterred from confrontation.

“Mr. The Man,” I began “is there anything you hate more than Black people?”

He regarded me with a sharp glare that faded into a soft surrender. He must have understood there would be no escaping my journalistic fervor. “I’m not sure what you mean. What else is there? Perhaps Mexicans?”

“But is there anything you hate more than minorities in general?” I pressed. “I can’t imagine racism doesn’t feel a bit played out to you by now.”

The Man’s shoulders casually shrugged as he offered, “Racism has been pretty good to me over the years, truth be told. It’s a very rewarding field! However, if there is one thing I despise more than variations in melanin concentration, it would have to be Tivo.”

I fucking knew it.

I understand why The Man, in any of his incarnations at the helm of major television networks, would not be a fan of DVRs in general. Advertising dollars are the mother’s milk to their programming, something consistently bypassed by anyone watching via Tivo. They all gots babymamas and we be fuckin wit they ends, y’heard? Something had to be done, preferably wit tha quickness.

Historically The Man combatted people callously enjoying free media on their terms with punitive measures and prohibition, but that has seldom proven effective. It has never been easier to find music, radio programs, movies or television shows on the internet. However, The Man is nothing if not wily and determined. Rather than try and deny us the content, he slipped his tendrils into every broadcast media and news outlet to ensure they had nothing else to talk about other than what was on television the previous night.

Tivo aficionados now live in constant peril. If you’ve had the gaul to record any show with hopes of enjoying it later, you must immediately sequester your attention away from any live radio or television for the following 24 hours. No matter where you turn or what news outlet you favor, you will be unable to escape updates on the latest American Idol vote. What’s worse, since this passes for news AND entertainment, people can barely contain their excitement to scurry over to the office and chat up the recent episode’s developments and plotz down updates on their blogs. Heaven help you if you watch any show like LOST where revelations are sacrosanct to enjoying the many twists and turns in the plot. The Man has conditioned the media, and we, its pawns, to find nothing more cherished than vomiting up every detail of last night’s programming. Granted, fans of American Idol deserve every indignity they get in my estimation, but I’d gladly sidestep that to not traverse the minefield of LOST spoilers at every turn.

In conclusion, if you won’t kill your TV, at least shut up about it. Love and respect the Tivo users around you. Seek new and interesting topics to discuss around the watercooler, such as family, philosophy, or what is up with that new bitch executive secretary in the neighboring cubicle. Most importantly, Kill Whitey. Thank you.




5 responses

25 05 2006

the final episode of “lost”, jack bauer shoots everyone, then there’s a korean out of fuckin nowhere, tito ortiz punches him in the face, ken shamrock gets shot by jennifer garner’s “alias” charcter right after william hung kicked taylor hick’s ass with a tire iron to the face. will and grace had sex, but then that gay guy got AIDS from someone on “top chef”. channel 7 news came and fucking ruined everyone’s shit with a gatling gun, to which chuck norris popped out and said, “o rly?” and arnold stepped out and said “ya, srsly”.


this comment is brought to you by: BEST. EVER.

25 05 2006

p.s. this post of yours was so whiney, i thought you were brandon for a second. crying about tv… come on, dude.

25 05 2006

“then there’s a korean out of fuckin nowhere”

hahahaha….BANG BANG nuhnuhnuhnuhnuhnuhnuhnuh BANG BANG!

26 05 2006


26 05 2006
Paul Danielson

Testes…testes…one…two…uh, three?

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