Why Cable Television Sucks

First of all, I am not certain whether it is cable TV or satellite TV. There is a dish on the roof, but there is also a cable running from my wall to the box, then another from the box to the television. So, you tell me - it's silly to differentiate for anyone who isn't a cable television installer. We don't care what you call it, as long as when I press the "On" button on the remote, my football game comes on. That's Sucky-Point #1.

This week I changed my cable/satellite television plan. I had three receivers - one in each bedroom and a third in the living room, two of which were armed with recording capabilities. I am sending two receivers back and with tears in my eyes, moved the surviving receiver (the best one - most heartily equipped) to the living room. There will be no more burying myself in my nice sheets and letting Alfred Hitchcock or another dismal Suns loss carry me off to Dreamland. That makes me sad - Sucky-Point #2.

I cancelled my Showtime subscription - the only reason I had it was to watch Rick Springfield on "Californication", then got hooked on the show like a crack-whore. The rest of Showtime was a magnificent disappointment - since I signed up for the channel two years ago, the station has introduced a total of two new movies, both starring Nicolas Cage - Sucky-Point #3. The upside of having the Underachieving Showtime family of stations was that I also got the Encore family of stations, which runs the beloved "Alfred Hitchcock Hour" (Encore Mystery) and a spate of fine Western entertainment (Encore Western). I often enjoy a good Western picture. These stations are gone now, too - Sucky-Point #4.

I also cut my plan down to the bare-bones - the least expensive package possible. When I fired up the living room television (see Sucky-Point #2), I found that I had lost the station that carries the dismal Suns losses and Diamondback games during baseball season. I braced myself for local sports on the radio - it was good enough for my pop and his pop; it was good enough for me. Further investigation revealed that I had also inadvertently nixed The Golf Channel, History II, The Military Channel and a Few Others. I grumbled and switched back to the original plan, sans The Showtime/Encore Package. Back to the television and I was delighted to find the D-Backs/Dismal Suns Loss Channel back in commission. Further perusal revealed that I had apparently permanently assassinated the Golf Channel, History II, The Military Channel and a Few Others. Were they somehow inexplicably linked to the Underachieving Showtime Family? I didn't know and have yet to learn the truth - Sucky Point #5.

If these five Sucky-Points aren't enough to convince you that cable/satellite television sucks, please feel free to leave a comment in the space provided below. I will then add more. Or you can add your own and save me some work, which I always greatly appreciate, being one of the laziest souls on the planet. It's a gift.

Now, all that said, I would like it to be known that I am not one to simply sit back and bitch and wait for someone to give me a hug, although hugs are also nice and equally greatly appreciated. I have a solution that would solve most, if not all of the Sucky Points and seems to me to be fairly straightforward and simple. And when I am King, this will be one of the first changes I will enact. That and cell-phone-blockers installed in all automobiles. There is nothing that can't wait until you get off the road - just last week, I witnessed two accidents where a vehicle was rear-ended by another vehicle whose stalwart driver was thumbing away at a cell-phone. I didn't stop, however - I assumed the police would be able to figure these accidents out, given the lack of skid-marks and the times in which we are living. My do-gooderness only goes so far - especially when I'm driving home from work, which is time-consuming enough as it is... But I digress.

What the cable/satellite companies should do is come up with a plan where the valued customer picked his own stations from the list of available offerings. Perhaps a 10-station plan for the resolute, a 25-station plan for those who have a fair notion of what viewing they prefer, 30/50/100 station packages on hand for the extravagant and indecisive. It seems to me that this would be a popular change and would revolutionize the industry. It would also see an unfortunate but necessary end to the peripheral stations with little to no subscribership. Bye-bye "The Watch-Fixer's Network".

Here is a list of my sample-subscription package. The 10-station plan (for I am nothing if not resolute):

1) The D-Backs/Dismal Suns Loss Channel. I would prefer to be able to support my home teams in my home, where beer is cheap, food is plentiful and I can watch in my skivvies. Hockey may be included in the programming - not sure, since even hockey games in the listings on the guide make my eyes glaze over...

2) Showtime. Purely for "Californication", the bastards.

3) Encore Mystery. Or better yet, The Alfred Hitchcock Network, which would be put into the rotation once I have been elected King.

4,5,6,7) ABC/NBC/CBS and ESPN: For sports. It's a pity to waste four selections on channels for sporting events, but again until I am elected King and decree that all sports are to be aired on ESPN and cut out all their useless drivel between events, we are caught in a tough, tough place.

8) The Food Network. Which would be named "The Chopped Network" and appropriately programmed when I am King.

9) The History Channel. I like History. And documentaries - preferably in black and white.

10) TCM. I like classic movies as well. Also preferably in black and white.

There should also be a "Raquel Welch Channel" and a "Silent Film Network", both of which would make my ten-channel list, effectively booting "The Food Network" and CBS, which invariably shows the crummiest sports, straight to the curb.

So comment if you wish to help me finalize my plan for submission to congress, the cable/satellite companies and George Clooney and we will get this thing started. It will enrich all our lives and take a little of the cock and bull out of our daily lives and cut it down to the preferred and enjoyable. And remember to vote Jerry Ford for King in the upcoming election. If elected, I will wear epaulets.

Discovery (Fit and Health)

I was flipping through the television channels earlier, searching for some suitable white-noise to have on in the background while I worked on my latest project. ESPN is awful - too manic, with excitable talking heads shouting to be heard over one another as they attempt to make their points about Tim Tebow or the latest NASCAR feud. Movie channels are no good; I am inevitably drawn in to another showing of "A League of Their Own" or "That Thing You Do" and first thing you know, there's two more hours of my life that I will never get back.

The same holds true of the Biography Channel and the Food Network. If I get hooked into an episode of "Chopped", or "Restaurant Impossible", or a special two-hour documentary about "Beatle Wives", once again, I accomplish nothing besides wandering to the fridge during a commercial break.

However, the History Channel is generally pretty well-suited for providing background noise while I write - narrators drone on about some shipwreck or another, or perhaps the real location of Eden. So, I usually go to the History Channel or on some occasions the Military Channel, where I can watch us beat hell out of Hitler and his evil cronies, which never fails to put me in a better mood.

Today, however, I discovered the Discovery's Fit and Health Channel - which apparently offers a variety of medical-based fare. What caught Jerry's eye? you might be asking yourselves. Well, the description of a show about women who have orgasms non-stop all day long, that's what. Done and done - here's an hour I'm not going to get any work done.

Turns out this malady, known as PSAS (Persistent Sexual Arousal Syndrome), is not the Godsend I imagined it would be. I frowned as the lady with the British accent explained that this condition often put women off sex altogether as they simply dealt with making the feeling go away every ten minutes by rushing off for a few private moments alone, mostly. With just their unfortunate condition and a barrel full of helpful toys, I imagine. There was, however, one exception to this general rule - a scary-looking lady who pressed her husband into service whenever possible. I began to see the downside and it made me sad.

This show was followed by another offering about circumcision - I got as far as the first minute, when it was explained that a man was going to have his foreskin re-attached. I had no interest in hearing how this would be accomplished or where they would find the lucky skin with which to fashion this pud-holster. There was also a show called "Strange Sex", but after being fooled by the non-stop orgasm trickery, I was not about to fall for that one. A commercial advertised a reality show about an ER - I glanced up to see a poor unfortunate with something sticking out of his bloody shoulder and nearly swooned. I realized that this channel was a bummer and not even worth having on in the background.

But this is not why I'm writing this evening.

I began thinking about the whole orgasm thing and how lucky we folks are who have normal sex-drives and are fairly happy with the equipment we have been issued. I never really pondered the messy reality of the act of sex - but there is some weird stuff out there. I blame the internet. The internet and Viagra. I imagine that there have been oddballs out there since the beginning of organized sexual activity - history will bear me out on this. But I think that the availability of all this cyber-smut and the ability to find footage on the World Wide Web of virtually anything that even the most perverted oddball could ever imagine has only proven to provide a giant, invisible petri dish in terms of cultivating the twisted tastes of the oddballs.

I am not making moral judgements here - it takes all kinds, of course, to make the world go round. Actually, probably not - the earth would probably be fine on its own if we all simply looked at Playboy and had missionary-position sex. No change whatsoever, in all likelihood. What I am saying is that we probably don't need to jumpstart every deviant thought that might cross a youngster's mind. In fact, it's probably not healthy to do so - we are most likely twenty years away from finding out what happens when we provide everyone over the age of six with their own phones, two-hundred channels of cable television and a laptop with internet access. I am curious to see how it all goes. In the meantime, I am off to find a saucy photo of Raquel Welch in a bathing suit and imagine an idyllic world where we are a couple and she has PSAS and I have a shipping trunk full of Viagra. I know which photo I am looking for and I'll bet I can find it on the internet. In seconds.