My television is broken. Actually, I’m a victim of an inferior HD satellite receiver and a hostile customer service department. I’m in the process of switching satellite providers and my whole family is stuck in broadcast limbo.
I have respite from partisan politicians and pushy pundits who barge into my living room on a daily basis. I have been spared obnoxious liberal media commentators spinning their lopsided versions of the latest poll data and the consensus of collectivists.
I have been temporarily spared from the social service war raging in Iraq and the propaganda fallout from treasonous ideologies here in the states. And there’s no longer a barrage of solicitors pumping me to buy things I really don’t need, or never intend to buy.
My life has changed dramatically in the wake of this black out. I converse more with loved ones and my dogs have never seen this much attention. My honey-do list is dwindling and my propensity for procrastination is gone.
This hiatus is liberating; it appeals to me. Why should I ever invite that rancorous lot back into my home? If only someone would tell me —who got voted off American Idol?