The same week that the CRTC announces that TV providers should be able to gouge Canadians, I read a report that says your average adult is watching far less of the boob-tube than in decades past. Funny. We're not watching less because we've rediscovered the world outside our doors or because there's been a resurgence in burying ourselves in the wonders of bound text (I was at a very depressing department meeting recently where we were shown some numbers of declining reading-rates in young people, and the repercussions).
No, indeed, we're watching less TV--that is, less of the actual machine called a television--because we're doing so much more of what you're doing right now: surfing and interacting with the Internet. No surprise there, I'm sure. The second article--the one reporting the decline in TV viewership was dubious in tone (strange, as it was print media mourning the decline of television) for it made out as if this transition is regrettable, a decline--like the loss wasn't so much of ratings but of that valued family interaction time where everybody gathers around to watch he who loses the biggest.
Oh, relax, my soapbox will remain stowed.
When I was in my early twenties, my TV consumption involved The Simpsons (I am a child of the 90s), some sports--chiefly hockey, token doses of Muchmusic, the channels Discovery, History and National Geography, and then bits and pieces of "what's on." I was not above mindless remote-flicking.
Then I moved to Taiwan, and though I still had some access to English-language television, it was often dated, always American, and usually out of sync with my teaching schedule. I just lost touch. I didn't even bother following anything online, and after a decade and a half, even my diligent Sunday-night pursuits of the yellow-skinned animated tomfoolery fell by the wayside.
When I came back to the land of Rick Mercer, Hannah Gartner and Don Cherry, I wasn't interested anymore. See, I had discovered what could be done with that time that's wasted at the TV. Still no soapbox: my wife has her shows and she's welcome to them, I mean that I simply can't sit still for an hour-long CSI. I still love my hockey, but often I'm doing something else while it's on. 'Cause let's face it, even the best games have some serious amounts of lettuce on the bun. Fortunately, when I returned to Canada, reality TV had really taken off and stupid was the order of the day. For the first six months I didn't even own a TV, and for at least a year after that I only had rabbit ears. I probably would still have the same 19-inch box my parents bought me in university if I didn't like taking in the odd movie--why can I stand movies? Enclosed narrative, no commercials, nobody addresses the foibles of other characters to the camera on Day 12.
I like that we have to interact with everything we access online, rather than just receive it. Oh yes, you're saying, "How much interacting is there in watching a Youtube montage of Family Guy fart gags set to 'Never Gonna Give You Up'?" But, c'mon, I don't want to beat up too much on the ugly stepchildren that are reality TV and professional sports, instead consider the drivel spewed out by your average sitcom or E-talk tripe. Interacting nothing--are you remembering to blink?
Yes, endless hours of anything is bad for you. "My name is Paul and I have a Wikipedia problem." I'm one of those guys who ends up reading about the South-Saharan tiger lily's pollination evolution and wondering how I got there from reading about the Quebec Act. But, the CRTC has basically approved price-gouging as what I see as a bailout technique. Sounds to me like the soon-to-be obsolete scratching at the walls as they slide.
Welcome, Television, to the Museum of Irrelevance. This display is entitled Media Crushed by the Internet, you'll find your spot between the Music Industry and the Newspaper.
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