Insomnia.

It’s a bad idea to watch TV when you can’t sleep.

Although it’s not a lonely experience to gaze into the screen. There’s always someone talking, always someone to have a face to face exchange with. Right now, multiple people are trying to sell me large collections of country music, soul music, and psychedelic music. On another channel, vast groups of C list actors are trying  sell me exercise equipment and things that make amazing food at the push of a button.

On another channel lurks a black and white movie. I occasionally stop here, just long enough to witness a chunk of a scene or a few lines of dialogue. I’ve never seen the whole movie, whatever movie it is, and I always manage to miss the beginning. So instead I catch shots of someone lighting a cigarette, kissing a dame, or shooting off a line of hard-boiled dialogue.

Even the discovery channel sucks a 4:42 in the morning. If it is one of the good shows, it’s a repeat. Nobody is learning anything new, or anything of substance.

To those selling exercise equipment at 4 in the morning: Your audience is eating Tostitos and Lime, is sleep deprived, and staring into space too bored to do anything, Your audience is incorrect and you will never reach them. 10 minute workouts! You avoid being fat, but you won’t really be all that attractive either. Doctored models sliding around on Hawaiian beaches smiling fake smiles with fake teeth.

Country music, fake exercise, discovery channel repeats, colour bars, The Magic Bullet, and more colour bars. I blast through the channels again, doing another rotation to see if anything has  yet changed the tides of this cesspool.

Religious hysteria finds its way in. The word of God, God’s will, passages of the bible read by zealots in bad suits and bad ties. To order today’s message! Talk of money. The son of God. Donate today! Amen. I begin to avoid the higher numbered channels to avoid hearing it anymore.

I’ve seen this episode of That 70’s show.

Mr. T begins to attempt to sell me the FlavorWave Oven. I’ve now hit the surreal.

I try and recover from that dip into something without explanation. Conway Twitty doesn’t help me out, because he’s busy trying to sell me Loretta Lynn live videos.

I linger on Much More Music for a moment or two and then regret it. There is nothing in this wasteland. The music videos all suck, and the music in them makes my ears hurt. Even at the hushed whisper that is the “3” volume setting on my TV, even at that level, my ears still hurt. I stick around for a round of commercials who’s target audience I no longer understand, and then I flee back into the lower numbered channels.

In Cold Blood. That’s the name of the movie that’s on.

Another channel gives up for the night and puts on the colour bars.

Encore Avenue on Bravo starts up a feature presentation. I express excitement at being able to catch the beginning of a movie. A Lawrence Kasdan film. The oft coveted first scene of the movie doesn’t rock my world, so I change channels. Something with Glen Close.

$100 bibles for sale, and B-level celebrities announcing their reality TV shows. Obama. CNN reporters talking about homes on fire in California. Taser inquiries in Canada, Kansas governors, U2 is going on tour again, and Jesus is coming. Johnny Cash. Jessica Simpson. The New York Knicks and the Boston Bruins lead the sports coverage. It is currently six degrees. A 1967 Chevelle is being sold. Lord of War will be on later today. Call now! Touch of Evil. Insurance Premiums. The Chris Isaac Hour. Nutrisystem with a 30 day trial.

But wait!

This program has been a paid advertisement and is not sponsored by the W Network.

I can’t sleep. The battery is dying on my computer. The power chord is unspeakably far.

Color bars.

 

 

 

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