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Some time ago, a friend asked whether I’d like to
organize a regular get-together devoted to political discussion, guests
and all. Imagine this lovely lady’s surprise at my reply; I don’t quite
think she was prepared for the intensity with which a political writer
disavowed politics, but I can’t imagine doing anything worse with my
spare time.
In fact, I seldom socialize because friends, bless them, insist on
discussing politics with me. I’ve contemplated arriving at a social
event with a list of URLs. Want to know what I think of the Iraq
enterprise? Here’s a
URL. You glow with
schadenfreude at Martha Stewart’s misfortune. Here’s a
URL. You think the praise-worthy principle of federalism gives a
state court license to kill an imperfect, harmless human being? Here’s a
URL. And so on.
Unless one strikes the proverbial Faustian deal and is paid to shill for
one or the other gang in the duopoly, politics is nothing but a source
of wretchedness. Dramatic perhaps, but I told my friend to equate
politics with death; and the small sphere outside of it (good and bad)
with life. I apply whatever energies and abilities I have to politics
because I love life—it’s imperative to beat back a life-sapping force.
The impetus behind “rolling
back the modern Leviathan State and reclaiming civil society” is the
rational individual’s quest to delay death and prolong life.
Preoccupation with death, however, is a bad thing. Which is why time
with friends and family is best spent dwelling on life. And why time in
front of the
telly is best spent watching
HGTV. Speaking of dramatic! I’ve lurched from life and death to
Design on a Dime! Some segue into a shout-out for
HGTV, my favorite TV channel!
Indeed, the themes woven into most TV programs with Howard Stern-like
subtlety are assorted lies and irrationalities, and hence not life
affirming.
-
Junk Science (Take your
pick. The choice is endless, from the multiple personality disorder
falsehood, to the global-warming canard, to the
root-causes-of-terrorism rot.)
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Gender junk (Woman is
brawny, brainy, and beautiful; man is a buffoon. An 80-pound waif
manages to wallop a 200-pound gangster with no punctures to the silicone
sacks.)
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Good Government must
temper bad business
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The canonization of kids
and critters
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Grotesque sex talk (Rescue
Me alludes to some exotic practices with which I became familiar
as an AIDS counselor in South Africa—or was it after Laura Bush’s
comedy shtick? Not sure.)
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General affirmation of
slut and celebrity
I’ve never watched the
West Wing (it elevates to sainthood the Soviets that violate my
life—and yours). Most other TV series showcase the shift from acting to
posing (modern American women, especially, can’t act, and are not
required to), and the bankruptcy of scriptwriting. I watch CSI. It has a
storyline. I particularly like the Miami offshoot for that rarity among
TV’s harem of Hos:
a Southern Belle.
This collagen-lips apparition is a no-no.
I know I’ve
likened Canadians to “the somnambulant, morbid, long-suffering
zombies of Ingmar Bergman’s films” (remember: I spent “seven lean years”
there). But they produce some good TV. Compare the acting (and the
absence of bimbos) in
Da Vinci’s Inquest with any American series and you’ll see what I
mean.
Considering the options, I prefer to kick back with
HGTV, where creative professionals make beautiful things for their
clients. There’s no bureaucratic blackmail—bar the regulators behind the
scenes, but even those can’t cramp capitalism’s style—only voluntary
exchanges between willing participants.
Oh, the happy couples who find their ideal home on Suzanne Whang’s
House Hunters. It goes without saying that
Michael Payne does more for peace than any politician (also true of
your average house dust mite). A decorating wizard with a devilish sense
of humor and a way with the English language is Candice Olson of
Divine Design. How soothing yet sensuous are words like,
“Sumptuous,” “sleek,” “plush,” and “palette.” And how they contrast with
the crassness of, “Spread freedom” “sacrifice” “serve” and “your money
or your life.” Jane Lockhart, whose specialty is color theory and
design, helps her clients “Get
Color!” by assembling as inspiration “colorful spices from the
orient, brilliant floral displays,” and food. Fabulous and ... truly
sensuous. Implicitly,
HGTV affirms family and community.
I’m from the Middle-East and South-Africa, so my tastes are a little
exotic. The plush Persian rug isn’t a harmonizing element, but a bold
statement in the living room—a piece of art that marries intricately
detailed, strong, tribal designs with superb city craftsmanship. A
large, equally bold painting by an Israeli adorns one wall. (Originally
from Kazakhstan, I’ve rechristened the artist
Borat, for
Sacha Baron Cohen’s creation.) But difference is okay on Free TV.
Unlike the coercive class, the natural elites of
HGTV work with—not against—their clients to help them create a haven
away from ... politics.
©2005 Ilana Mercer
Free-Market News Network
May 23
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