Feeling the burn
For years, researchers have been insisting that Americans have become increasingly violent because they watch excessive violence portrayed on television shows. Since my own TV viewing is probably less than an hour a month, I have never felt like I had anything to contribute to this debate.
In the last few weeks, however, I have been following an exercise show on FitTV almost every day in hopes of dropping a few pounds and tightening my glutes. Based on this experience, I can now say without hesitation that watching television has, indeed, made me more violent.
“Let’s do some cardio boxing!” the TV exercise guru shouts at me. “Ready? Go! Jab, jab, cross! Jab, jab, cross! Jab, jab, cross!”
I do the boxing moves and it feels pretty darn good.
“Now, let’s add a kick and a slap! Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP! Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP!”
Hey, I like this! The energy is just pouring through me and I can feel those muscles waking up with excitement! Where have I been all these years, to be missing out on this pure physical thrill? I’m ready to take on the world!
“Keep it up through the break! Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP!”
I enthusiastically continue the pattern while the broadcast cuts to commercials. Jab! Jab! Cross! Kick! SLAP!
On the television screen, there’s an ad for improving your computer’s operating speed. A young man sits in front of his computer, playing a video game, frantically pressing the buttons on his control. He looks annoyed. “This is so SLOW!” he whines.
I hate whining. Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP!
“What’s wrong with this computer?” the young man complains. “It used to be fast. MOM!”
What? Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP! This young man is whining to his mother? About a video game? Jab, jab, cross, kick, SLAP! I feel my blood boil, and I realize I want to kick this kid.
“Get off your duff and get a job!” I shout at the actor on the screen. He looks to be about nineteen. “Then pay to get it fixed yourself! You don’t think your mother has better things to do with her time than fix your video game so you can sit there all day and be a vegetable?! For crying out loud! Slacker!!”
I realize I’m shouting at the TV.
I never shout.
Or at least, I never did before I started watching television.
There you go: proof that television makes you more violent. I’m mortified that I’ve so easily been taken in. I suddenly empathize with the millions of people who have been transformed into violent criminals by watching TV.
I quit jabbing, crossing, kicking and slapping, and reach out to turn off this evil that has invaded my quiet home and peaceful life.
“Time to work on those six-pack abs!” the exercise guru is back, smiling that seductive smile and showing off the flattest stomach in the universe. “You can do it!” he encourages me.
I reconsider turning off the show. It’s just exercise, after all, right? And it’s really good for my physical health. Certainly that moment of violent madness was just a glitch in my adrenaline-fueled body. Watching a TV workout is not going to rewire my brain to become a machine of uncontrollable aggression.
Reassured, I lay down on my exercise mat and begin to do crunches.
“Up on two, down on two, up on two, down on two,” says the guru. “Now let’s do singles. Up, down, up, down, up, down.”
My abdominal muscles begin to hurt. A minute later, they are burning.
“Now let’s do a four count. Up, lift a leg straight up, take the leg down, then head down. Again! Up, up, down, down. Up, up, down, down.”
I’m sweating like a pig. My abs are killing me. I want to shoot the guru.
There you go: proof positive that watching television makes you more violent. I quit doing the sit up/leg lifts and turn off the TV before the whiny kid comes back on yelling for his mother to fix his computer. I decide it’s a good thing that I watch as little television as I do. I’m obviously much too susceptible to violent influence. If watching an exercise show has this much effect on my personality, I can only imagine what watching a talk show would do to me: I’d probably be ranting within minutes and throwing chairs at the TV. One of those high-octane cop shows would probably have me punching anyone who came within striking distance. It really is a good thing that my pastime of choice is such a non-violent and therapeutic activity like writing.
Speaking of which, I’m working on developing a character for a new book. Which do you like better? An amnesiac serial killer or a schizophrenic homicidal maniac? I know! How about a television exercise guru who secretly plots the painful death of his students, one of whom is a young man who whines about his computer being slow?
Gee, where did that come from?
