I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT! Yeah that’s right, I seen the light. I used to be a gutter dwelling, book reading, creative writing SINNER! I dared to question the Almighty in all his glory speaking through the prophets of TV.
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I was lower than pond-scum, I was depressed. How depressed was I? Imagine a man strapped into a dentist’s chair and the dentist has discovered this man has been screwing his wife. Imagine the dentist saying, “Novocaine? Sorry we’re all out of that, open wide - this won’t hurt a lot.” Now that’s what I call depressing ( and sick).
But while I was in that gutter, under the pond scum, I looked to the Sky and I didst see a
hand reaching down to me.
The hand said, “Come my brother – you will carry my antenna on your back for me?”
I replied, “Blimey a talking hand!”
The hand didst smite me and said, “Prat, there’s more yet. I’m your brother and I will lead you from the wilderness of pseudo-intellectualism…”
“Is that a real word?”
“Don’t interrupt, I will guide you to the promised land of news, game shows and assorted violent entertainment that will sate your natural thirst for blood, guts, sex and death.”
“You’re my brother?”
“Yes, and I’m big.”
He proved it then began to instruct me in the seven commandments as written in every TV guide.
Thou shalt accept all news coverage as gospel truth.
Thou shalt have more TV channels than thy neighbour.
Thou shalt believe that the fights on Jerry Springer are genuine.
Thou shalt listen to the compassionate wisdom of James T. Kirk.
Thou shalt laugh heartily when cued by studio audiences.
Thou shalt buy all the latest TV equipment to fill thy lounge.
Thou shalt mortgage thy family if necessary to pay for a bigger TV screen.
Hear me, my brethren ( and erm sistren ) – listen to the truth of the TV, let the almighty box tell thee what to wear, eat and drink. Rest easy in the knowledge that ALL bad guys lose in the end and there will always be a convenient ventilator shaft / swimming pool / truck of hay to help out the hero.
Don’t worry – vedge out, be the King Edward of couch potatoes, rejoice, alleluia!
N.B. I must stop taking this medication – I think it’s affecting me in some way.
In five hundred years time, most of us will be forgotten dust. But Hitler will still be remembered, God loves irony.