"And during the few moments that we have left... we wanna talk right down to Earth in a language that everybody here can easily understand." - Malcolm X
Under the gun and nostalgia-laden, wondering why that which was once good may or may not remain so.
Aurora Roars
“I am the harbinger of the Apocalypse” cried Jerry Rigg,
while raking potato chip remnants from a wooden bowl.
The party down to coloured liquor from a long-necked bottle
sagged its way to the impending sunrise once foretold.
Muffled from the bedroom down the hall a squeaky boxspring sang
a well-worn melody in F; the headboard kept the time.
Diane then staggered from the kitchen with a happy face in mustard
painted on her chest as some tempting paradigm.
There’s a party in my brain and everyone is in slo-motion,
while I sit engaged in discourse with the figments in my head.
Jack is snoring wildly underneath the gatefold covers
of “Frampton Comes Alive” and some album by the Dead.
“Do you feel like we do”, rose the dissonant recital
from Ben stuck stagnant in recliner. I’d thought that he was dead.
A sudden wave of clarity then overtook my vision
with ghostly circumstances from this morbid waking stead.
I felt my leaden arms reach up and out to transient space
as a band of fire ascended and overwashed my face.
There’s a party in my brain and everyone is in slo-motion,
while I sit engaged in discourse with the figments in my head.
Sara shuffled up to me and latched upon my shoulder,
sat me on futon, took the verse I’d written, then she read:
Appearances seem to melt into a rash of consequence.
Connection to the world I left behind
dissolves into this bitter rind that flavours such meringue.
Sara spoke no more, she sat confused beyond relief
and falling from her consciousness an omnipresent sleep.
I thought I heard a siren from a million miles away
and flashing lights spark frightened wake-up calls to stimulate the fray.
Stepping backwards two more steps my waking world collapsed
trying to fight against the dreamworld coming I relapsed.
And Jerry passed out covered in some hardened nacho cheese
while Diane formed, upon his shirt, a ketchup masterpiece.
There’s a party in my brain and everyone is in slo-motion,
while I sit engaged in discourse with the figments in my head.
The battlefield is strewn with the bodies of survivors.
A morning sun has washed the scene within its bloodied red.
A story unfettered from the memory shackles of youth during the Age of VHS.
Sometimes a topic comes together, even late at night. And while I may be wrong or may be right, a nagging fear grows in my underground bunker across the planet.
Whether its called a time suck, a time killer, or a time waster, people are accused of occupying their time with pursuits that are determined by other "industrious" folk as wasteful.
When I was young my time "waster" was the television. But it was never called the television. It was the "boob tube", the "idiot box" or the "great hypnotizer". And I'll be the first to admit that I spent a whole bunch of time watching television as a child (and still do today), but I never felt it as a waste of time. There's something to be said for passively watching television, which in itself is not a bad thing. When you come home from a long day and need to unwind, there's sometimes nothing better than mindless television to allow a form of escapism.
I have also maintained, later in life, that watching television does not always amount to passive absorption. I believe one can pursue a somewhat active viewing of television that doesn't necessarily involve sitting down with a notepad and jotting down cryptic observations or witty rejoinders. The background one has with the medium allows for an certain internal criticism that is at once both cognitive and evaluative. The ability to establish pattern in one's mind to determine potential plot twists, effective use of camera or lighting and the overall conveyance of mise en scene or role is a skill that needs to be exercised by regular exercise. That's right, I said exercise. I'll not presume to assume that whenever someone watches television they're taking the "engagement" of the mind to heart... and they probably shouldn't.
I also remember that, for some reason, the task of reading, which is equally enjoyable, is somehow thought of as a more lofty pursuit than watching television. In fact, I always found it difficult to understand the continuum of what was considered a "waste of time" when consuming media. I'm not quite sure if it remained the same for all parents with their children, or if the general societal understanding matched the prevailing ranking, but it seemed to go like this:
The Time Wasting Media Consumption Continuum (from Worst to Not-so-Worst):
1) Television (or all of its aforementioned monikers)
2) Video Games (although often interchangeable with television)
3) Web (mostly condemned due to misunderstanding)
4) Reading Comics
5) Movies (though defensible due to the social aspect)
6) Reading Magazines
7) Listening to Radio or Music
8) Reading Novels or News
And I know there are neurological studies that show brain patterns flattening out while watching TV compared to reading, but doesn't that depend on who's brain? There's a common approach to literary criticism called, plainly enough, Reader Response Theory that basically weighs the impressions of the reader above and beyond that of the author's original intention. In other words, even if the author tried to present you with an allegory of the Russian Revolution, but to you it was just a violent story of pigs fighting on some sort of Animal Farm, why should your impression hold any less authority than that of the author. In other words, whatever experience I bring to the experience of consuming media, helps to define the work.
The approach doesn't work any less with television or web content. What you bring to the experience helps to define the it. And it can be a learning experience. Every bad television episode or web page you experience provides a semblance of context around which all others will be judged. File this knowledge to provide context and you've just found a way to give purpose to the time wasting. Be an active consumer of media and you'll always have an excuse whenever someone tells you to "stop wasting time". Of course it's still hard to defend playing Bejeweled on Facebook at work, or defending any "unproductive" activity at work for that matter... but at least you can adopt an educated aire while doing so.