It's Starting to Smell
These days, thanks to the broken rib, my husband is at home. He likes to read, but he also likes to watch television. However, the offerings of the altar to miscommunication during the afternoon are even more abysmal than during the evening. So my husband ends up watching cartoons because they're much more intelligent than the programs for adults.
One of his (and my) beefs, are all the paparazzi shows that even stretch into the evening, making prime time appear on some channel at close to eleven at night. They also get strange names: Sálveme Deluxe, Sálvame Naranja, Sálvame Limón (Who and what wants to be "saved", aside from the public? All these on just one channel, the title depends on the day, I think), Socialité, Cazamariposas, Qué me Dices, Corazón, Dónde Estás Corazón, etc. Some of them might not even be aired any more, but their names stuck with me. All of them have round table discussions on stories concerning if the wife of so-and-so is going to invite the ex-wife for Christmas, and if they are going to decorate the house with silver and blue decorations or green and red. Or if the daughter of such-and-such is going out with who-and-who because they were seen exchanging hellos at an after-hours party. Half the people mentioned are the third cousin twice removed of someone famous for marrying a torero, or of an ancient movie star, or of a once-famous, now-scandalously-rich ex-politician, or of a not-very-good singer.
Or perhaps they're people who were once on reality programs like Operación Triunfo, or La Voz, or Gran Hermano. Aside from these, there are other realities, like Cámbiame, where "normal" people get radical makeovers, directed by papier-couché personalities. Then there's Hombres, Mujeres, y Vice-Versa, where it seems they're perpetually criticizing one another over being men and women (eh?!). And then there are the evening reality shows, some of which are supposed to be match-making opportunities, such as Granjero Busca Esposa (Farmer Looks For Wife). Or spin-offs of Gran Hermano (Orwell must be turning over in his grave) such as Supervivientes, where the contestants are left on an island to coexist. Of course, they fail miserably, but perhaps none of them have ever read Lord of the Flies.
The problem is that there seems to be a large audience for this dribble. My mother-in-law loves the gossip shows. She belongs to that generation of women who were always lurking beside windows, checking on their neighbors. The ones, that when they see someone walking by the house, always find something to do by the window, or in plain sight of the road. I understand that gossip was once a way of knowing what was going on in the village, but some women have taken it to extremes. And now the television has introduced them to an even greater world of gossip. My mother-in-law sometimes starts talking about a politician or a football player when they appear on the screen, and will start telling us about how their wife is expecting a baby, or that they have a vacation home in a rich town, or... My husband and I always interrupt, and say we're not acquainted with the person, and don't particularly care about their private lives.
I think a pact was once signed, a very long time ago, between all the television stations, in which they guaranteed quality shows in the afternoon when children were wont to watch television. I think the pact was written on paper so wet, it disintegrated the second it was signed. One of the channels never really implemented it, and the others weren't about to be left behind. And kids who get home and turn on the television to do their homework, or who live in houses where it's on absolutely all day, grow up believing that this is the normal world.
Once upon a time there were semi-intelligent programs, or even mildly entertaining programs on the television to make watching it an enjoyable experience in the afternoon and evening. In fact, I remember coming on vacation in the 1980's and the television would go off at midnight, to come back on the next day at a reasonable hour. One of the iconic programs of Spanish television, Verano Azul, came on after the afternoon news ended at three thirty. Prime time in the evening was slightly earlier, and it consisted of perhaps only one program, not all the repeats that come on now, one after the other, all the way through the night into the dawn.
Now, interesting programs are being relegated to paying television. Open television is being left with the lickings from the the absolute bottom of the rotting barrel. It's a way to get people to pay for slightly better television on a monthly basis, so the companies that offer phone service make even more money. For a basic price of perhaps fifty euros a month, a family can get a landline, various cell lines, fast internet, and upwards of a hundred television channels a month. Because we don't have a landline, and don't want to pay for what should be free for all, we pay through the nose for three cell lines and regular speed internet. The general public is being held hostage, and presented with visual trash if we don't subscribe and pay.
Save me, sálvame, from this trash!
One of his (and my) beefs, are all the paparazzi shows that even stretch into the evening, making prime time appear on some channel at close to eleven at night. They also get strange names: Sálveme Deluxe, Sálvame Naranja, Sálvame Limón (Who and what wants to be "saved", aside from the public? All these on just one channel, the title depends on the day, I think), Socialité, Cazamariposas, Qué me Dices, Corazón, Dónde Estás Corazón, etc. Some of them might not even be aired any more, but their names stuck with me. All of them have round table discussions on stories concerning if the wife of so-and-so is going to invite the ex-wife for Christmas, and if they are going to decorate the house with silver and blue decorations or green and red. Or if the daughter of such-and-such is going out with who-and-who because they were seen exchanging hellos at an after-hours party. Half the people mentioned are the third cousin twice removed of someone famous for marrying a torero, or of an ancient movie star, or of a once-famous, now-scandalously-rich ex-politician, or of a not-very-good singer.
Or perhaps they're people who were once on reality programs like Operación Triunfo, or La Voz, or Gran Hermano. Aside from these, there are other realities, like Cámbiame, where "normal" people get radical makeovers, directed by papier-couché personalities. Then there's Hombres, Mujeres, y Vice-Versa, where it seems they're perpetually criticizing one another over being men and women (eh?!). And then there are the evening reality shows, some of which are supposed to be match-making opportunities, such as Granjero Busca Esposa (Farmer Looks For Wife). Or spin-offs of Gran Hermano (Orwell must be turning over in his grave) such as Supervivientes, where the contestants are left on an island to coexist. Of course, they fail miserably, but perhaps none of them have ever read Lord of the Flies.
The problem is that there seems to be a large audience for this dribble. My mother-in-law loves the gossip shows. She belongs to that generation of women who were always lurking beside windows, checking on their neighbors. The ones, that when they see someone walking by the house, always find something to do by the window, or in plain sight of the road. I understand that gossip was once a way of knowing what was going on in the village, but some women have taken it to extremes. And now the television has introduced them to an even greater world of gossip. My mother-in-law sometimes starts talking about a politician or a football player when they appear on the screen, and will start telling us about how their wife is expecting a baby, or that they have a vacation home in a rich town, or... My husband and I always interrupt, and say we're not acquainted with the person, and don't particularly care about their private lives.
I think a pact was once signed, a very long time ago, between all the television stations, in which they guaranteed quality shows in the afternoon when children were wont to watch television. I think the pact was written on paper so wet, it disintegrated the second it was signed. One of the channels never really implemented it, and the others weren't about to be left behind. And kids who get home and turn on the television to do their homework, or who live in houses where it's on absolutely all day, grow up believing that this is the normal world.
Once upon a time there were semi-intelligent programs, or even mildly entertaining programs on the television to make watching it an enjoyable experience in the afternoon and evening. In fact, I remember coming on vacation in the 1980's and the television would go off at midnight, to come back on the next day at a reasonable hour. One of the iconic programs of Spanish television, Verano Azul, came on after the afternoon news ended at three thirty. Prime time in the evening was slightly earlier, and it consisted of perhaps only one program, not all the repeats that come on now, one after the other, all the way through the night into the dawn.
Now, interesting programs are being relegated to paying television. Open television is being left with the lickings from the the absolute bottom of the rotting barrel. It's a way to get people to pay for slightly better television on a monthly basis, so the companies that offer phone service make even more money. For a basic price of perhaps fifty euros a month, a family can get a landline, various cell lines, fast internet, and upwards of a hundred television channels a month. Because we don't have a landline, and don't want to pay for what should be free for all, we pay through the nose for three cell lines and regular speed internet. The general public is being held hostage, and presented with visual trash if we don't subscribe and pay.
Save me, sálvame, from this trash!
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