Isolation: One Hundred Fifty Hours of Solitude
Well…I’ve been in this same room for about 6 days now. 5 spent in solitude now, except for the occasional doctor’s visit, nurses waking me up and taking my vitals, and my family members standing outside.
It’s wearing down on me, though not really in the way that I expected it would. I never anticipated that eating warm parfait and cold bacon is so maddening. The food people can’t bring in my meals right as they arrive because the nurses are the only ones allowed inside my room…so the food just sits there, waiting to be brought in. I bet even solitary confinement food is warmer than the mashed potatoes I had for lunch today.
But gosh golly, television is great. <3 I’ve been watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order and House, lots of Robot Chicken and other Adult Swim programming (AQUA TEEN!), and even the occasional cable reruns of Full House, Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and yes, Sister Sister.
Since I moved home, I don’t have cable anymore. Dad feels like he shouldn’t have to pay for a monthly service like that. He also didn’t get us internet until 2000. And we were on dial-up 56K until 2005. Now guess what? We’re still using a HUGE house antenna to get TV. We’re in that category of supposedly elderly Americans who STILL haven’t prepped for digital TV and haven’t set up the converter box. Even my grandma has her box hooked up already…
Yes, our household lives in very backward times.
But maybe my dad is on to something. If we had cable, I could and likely would be doing exactly what I’m doing now: watching nonstop TV.
Between TNT and USA, I can watch marathons of House, Without A Trace, Law and Order, Law and Order: SVU, and Cold Case. Talk about a crime drama wet dream. I had the TV on last night from 11am-1am nonstop, without having to search far for something good to watch. I even watched ALL of the programming on Adult Swim. And could have watched it again, but I’m not a big fan of King of the Hill. I’m a bigger fan than before I came to this room, though. Hank’s voice is oddly soothing…
I’m a bit haunted by this one that Oh Dae-su says in Chan-wook Park’s Oldboy. (If you haven’t seen Oldboy, it’s one of the most disturbing yet brilliant Korean films I have ever seen. I recommend it…with caution)
“The TV is both a clock and a calendar. It’s your school, your home, your church, your friend… and your lover.”
TV is familiar. Comforting. Brain-numbing. Sometimes that’s what we need. Sure, sure, it can be unhealthy escapism from reality…but in my opinion, we can’t face reality 24/7 without going absolutely nutters. That’s why we’re wired with an imagination…and now thanks to technology’s ability to make us do even less, we have TV: society’s imagination. I suppose in a sense, it’s the acceptable adult reconstruction of the imagination that they were socially banned from re-entering after completing childhood. Or just our generation’s absolute laziness and inability to go outside, enjoy the sun, and revel in imagination without labeling it childish.
But in any case, TV serves a certain purpose. And it does it very very well.
Television has a special place in our homes, in our minds, in our hearts.
In our homes, the television is often the focal point of family rooms. We arrange our furniture to provide an optimal view of the tube. Stereo systems enhance the viewing experience. We purchase better televisions with advanced technology to better see the moving pictures. To make the experience more real.
Television piques our brains, our curiosity, our social-norms: the original Star Trek is famously remembered (and made relevant again in the wake of the new film) for bringing up philosophical ponderings about the nature of humanity, and even being socially revolutionary with its first broadcasted interracial kiss. Crime dramas make us marvel at the motives of vile actions and rile our desire to put together the pieces to make sense of it all, and somehow fit justice into the equation. Hospital dramas, even comedies like Scrubs, make us consider ourselves at our most fragilest physical states, and to think of death. Shows like Lost challenge our ability to suspend disbelief, engaging us into a complicated, fantastic world where an island heals souls and bodies and blends the past, present and future.
And we begin to care. We begin to worry about Jack Bauer’s success and well-being. We cry as characters are mercilessly killed off in season finales due to budget-cuts and expired contracts. We become obsessed about the so well-developed characters of Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Locke, and even Ben on Lost and what will happen to them. We rejoice when Jim and Pam are finally together, and when crew members of the Deadliest Catch return safely home from a life so different from ours, with profitable pots of king crab. We sit on the edge of our couches as people die episode after episode, as lives are changed–at least as long as the series lasts, and as characters achieve the impossible–far beyond what we ourselves will ever hope to become.
And therein lies a danger: that we become contented with living vicariously through the characters we love and have let into our lives.
I decided to turn the TV off for a few hours today. Admittedly…after watching an episode and a half of Without a Trace and Law and Order.
I put down the books, the Nintendo DS (the Simpsons game is brilliant!*), the magazines, the compulsive need to channel surf.
I found that I need some space from our dear friend, the television. (After so much television-watching, I had even found that I have favorite commercials.)
My life currently is as least action-packed as it ever has been. It reads a bit like that Paul Auster book, Travels in the Scriptorium, only with fewer interesting visitors. No offense to my family members.
But in spite of the silence, the boredom, the bad food, the hospital smell, the lack of direct sunlight, the painful IV needles, and the harsh reality that I have a crappy life-threatening rare disease that Dr. Gregory House would make snide yet brilliant remarks about, this is my life: the life I get to live, rather than watch.
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Other thoughts:
- Dramas, especially hospital dramas, have this nasty bad habit of having a montage of all the characters accompanied by a slow, thoughtful song, often something like John Mayer.
- I really like alcohol commercials. They tend to be very well-produced. The Bacardi Mojito commercial is classy, nostalgic, and fresh–with a great wardrobe too. It certainly does justice to the drink. I’m not the biggest fan of Dos Equis but the “most interesting man in the world” commercial is absolutely charming. Heck…even that one Coors commercial (sorry, not on youtube) advertising the new blue mountains indicator on cans is cool; that dart trick would be awesome to pull off in real life. I know it’s CG, but hey, it appeals to my college sensibility.
- * The Simpsons Game is absolutely brilliant. The developers know their TV audience and openly acknowledge the difficulties and gimmicks of creating a show-based video game. In a very meta-videogaming way, they even make it a point to count all the “video game cliches” that appear in the gameplay, i.e. pits of death, barriers that need to be destroyed, etc. Bart even uses a game manual in order to discover his familys super powers. In one level, Bart and Lisa have to cross a river, Frogger-style. Once Lisa painstakingly crosses, Bart has to cross too, and he whines that the game is old-fashioned. Clever. I suppose that much of the glitches/difficult controls in the gameplay can also be dismissed or excused as the game simply making fun of its own genre. Very meta. Applause.
I haven’t delved too deeply into it, but there’s this one level where you have to save Carl and Lenny from buzzsaws of death (which the game points out is yet another video game cliche), and the two talk amongst themselves about their death. At one point, I’m pretty sure they scream “oh no! now I’ll never know what happens to Charlie and Claire on Lost!” That certainly appealed to my nerdy TV-watching side. Good move. More applause.
