First thing in the morning, grab the remote while the coffee is perking
and start the daily scroll in search of something interesting. It is an amazing
game we have been taught.
The wonders that appear on the screen draw us into a hallucination of
make believe. We get absorb into the stories and flashing lights with a steady
flow of propaganda sponsored by repetitive temptation of cleaner clothing and a
sexier smile.
At anytime of the day or night, there is always someone who will talk
with you even though they never listen. They may make you laugh or make you cry
and if you find the right channel, ponder your thoughts.
Like so many habits we have learned through the ages; stopping at red
lights, wearing pants, sleeping in church, visiting the ABC store, driving
instead of walking, getting regular hair cuts and burying the dead, we attend
the house of the magic box.
While the established broadcast have been refused from my sight, the
broadband still invades with color, imagination, moving pictures, and enough
reading to file a the library of ages.
The magic box is our addiction.
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