Turn Off The Idiot Box and Live.

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Turn off the idiot box and live.

The idiot box is one of the worse things that could have ever happened to humanity.

No, not bad-ass kids. Not promiscuity. Not equity feminism. Not working 10 hours a day. Not prostitution. Not prescription drugs. Not even bankruptcy and that is a tragedy! No, not even spending a night in jail for defending yourself.

Yes, the idiot box.

Before the idiot box, generations before me worked hard. They lived. They danced. They laughed. They fucked. They marched. They fornicated. They drunk. They lit fires. They survived with blood on their feet and sweaty veins. Men knew how to fight. They knew how to fuck. They knew how to work.

They didn’t need energy drinks. They didn’t need mood-enhancing drugs. They didn’t need self-help videos and gratuitous visuals. They didn’t need to go to church. They didn’t take HIV tests. HIV never existed back then. So much information on television and they won’t even tell us how to find the cure for AIDS or Cancer, but now, America has become mentally ill. Because it generates big business, big bank. Big profits!

Now, we’re too tired to be freedom fighters. Too scared to live and thriving of miserable news stories. Too penniless to travel. Too distraught to raise our heart rates. “Wow! Some basketball player fell out and died after he scored. It was on the news. Look, everybody! And, he had AIDS from fucking too much. The house is the safest place to be!”

You are no better than a puppet on a string, waiting for your master to show his face at 10PM. Then again, how can your puppet master control your body if, chances are, your fat ass is obese, because you eat all your pastas and cakes and pies and candy in front of the TV screen? Don’t answer that because they already have your mind. You’ve graduated from physical bondage, only to be transferred to mental slavery. Fear is a Japanese Sumo Wrestler who has you in a headlock. Now, no matter how hard you try to scratch his skin, bite him and fight that fat bastard off, he has you. Now, you’re in your mid-50s and it’s too late for you to fight. It’s best that you take your scared, punk-ass to sleep. Slowly. Go on! The extra sharpness on your flat screen is a NyQuil substitute. Now, get your Zs.

You watch more sex on the idiot box than having it. Masturbating to your favorite sex scene. The hours you consume watching porn has made you a minute man. The highlight of your day is to watch silly sitcoms, reality TV where stupid bitches fight and tear eachother’s hairs out of their scalp. And it all goes downhill from there. Now, your belly hangs past your underwear.

The bad news you watch on the evening news has you home by 7PM, like a suburbanite pre-teen. The paranoia you consume has you scared to take risks. Hearing about how Elvis died has you scared to take a shit.You don’t risk shit, you don’t get shit! Those commercials tell you that if you’re not wearing this, driving that, eating here or using that body wash over there, you are not hip. You are not in style. None of the girls will let you fuck them. The commercial says Ford is the best car on the market. Five minutes later, fifteen Ford cars got stolen in your city within the last five weeks. Another commercial says “If you want to be out of work, keep buying foreign.” But domestic cars’ value decreases faster than any foreign car. Yet, you stay at home, sitting by the mailbox, waiting on miracles. Wishing upon stars. They paint weddings like Walt Disney pictures and Tyler Perry movies, but the reality is, most weddings turn into horror stories, or whore-roar stories. “Oh, look! A woman got decapitated by a jealous husband! These men ain’t shit, girl! You can’t be out there in the world. The house is the safest place to be.” Really? Tomorrow, the news will report someone’s house being blown up from a gas leak. Is your house really the happiest place to be, while everyone is outside living? Drinking? Smoking? Laughing? Spending? Fashioning? Working? Traveling? Fucking? Building up their name?

Is that young drug dealer at the strip club they keep parading in front of you more of a threat to you than the local pedophile who carries AIDS? You don’t buy steaks anymore. Not because of high cholesterol, but because the news announced there’s Mad Cow Disease. You assume that’s how James Gandolfini died.

Do you get what I’m saying?

The media makes men look like losers with special needs, while the women seem smarter than them all. But little do you know, they’re just trying to save face. Your dirty laundry gets aired out while their’s are stamped as “Top Secret”. Pop culture pushes the idea down our throats that it’s okay for children to be gay. The idiot box went from analog to digital so the government can spy on you through the red power censor. Your mind goes dim faster than the sunshine in the long winter months. You’ve become useless. Like religion, your slave-drivers, a heart laced veins of fear and cheap public schooling, it tells you who to screw, how to look, how to dress, what to eat, how to behave. And now, you go along to get along.

Teach your kids to question authority. To embrace health, humanity or how to fly a kite.

Life is passing us by and right now, we aren’t that bright.

Please. Turn off the idiot box and get a fucking life.

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