The University of Chicago’s Independent Student Newspaper since 1892

Chicago Maroon

The University of Chicago’s Independent Student Newspaper since 1892

Chicago Maroon

The University of Chicago’s Independent Student Newspaper since 1892

Chicago Maroon

Television is a product of Satan

It’s sort of like watching a really bad movie on TV. Or maybe it’s sort of like me watching a really bad movie on TV. I don’t know if I am lazy or tired or bored or lame. I can hold the remote and change channels when ads come up but beyond that I am completely incapable (kind of like my relationship with this University). This is partially the reason that I believe television to be the devil (no analogy attached to the school). I believe in God. His antithesis is television. The really bad antithesis is the television with basic cable and no VCR. When he’s in a bad mood, he’s local access. Thought: if God capitalizes His pronouns, does the anti-God? Or is the anti-God a little god (This is not intended to draw some form of negative reaction on the part of You—and I only capitalized your name in order to make You feel as though you were appreciated and respected; I was not attempting to relate you personally to God and I apologize for this perhaps misguided implication). Maybe my better half should attempt to continue this article. He is much more organized and honest.

The anti-God as television debate makes very little sense because the anti-God would supposedly not allow himself to be trapped in a human invention and would permit himself periodic bathroom and liquor store crawl breaks. Hence, the television is not Satan. But that does not destroy the argument that television was invented by Satan. This of course opens another possibility. Somebody invented the television and this would suggest that either Satan implanted the idea in this inventor’s head or this inventor was indeed Satan. And of course—especially given the success of NASA and our spy gear—we would not want to let this out. Nor would I want to imply that your mother or father is Satan (if they were in fact the creators of television).

The mere fact that I believe that television sucks the very life out of all my productive impulses, desires (raw or censored), and creative drives does not require that television be the worst supernatural beast that I can imagine (because Frank and Lee do find that the beast in the movie with the big ugly dude is much worse). But that only presents the break in the middle of this article. You think I have run out of ideas. I was just going to tell you something and now you are blackballed. Hence, therefore and from now on I will avoid using stock phrases or “filling” any particular part of the article. Besides, I shall now continue with part two of the formal version: Nobody really likes television as much as I do.

Here is the troubled truth about my life (which is about to affect your life and which I hope makes you much slower): I really like watching television. Logically speaking, I must be Satan. But that doesn’t sit so well. Because I really don’t believe that I am Satan.

Now onto the purpose of this discourse that already placed your time at the University of Chicago in the lost and found box. If television is Satan then go north. It is spring and the weather is getting warm. So I am going to offer some free advertisement. Go to Sheffields (the spelling could be off, but they don’t care). It’s in Chicago; it’s close to Wrigley Field; it’s on the corner; it’s on Sheffield; it’s north but somehow south of Wrigley; it’s really really good when the weather gets warm. Its the kind of bar where everybody is elegantly dressed down. None of the pre-yuppie crowd wanders in and there are zero televisions (at least I have never seen a television there). They do not send a collection tray around. To no particular end, this can occasionally be a rowdy crew of “zealous” folks. But it is all a friendly flavor. The catch is that Bud Light is $3.50 and Newcastle is $4 (as well as a lot of other nice beers). So if you see a chachki drinking a Bud light hit him in the gut and tell him he needs to go watch his television. Then dance with his girlfriend and go home alone. The pride of this University is a tall glass of water. Treat her well.

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