Easily Entertained

I just spent the last five minutes of my life watching my hard drive defrag. You know, those lovely little blue, red, and white boxes on a great expanse of white; little blinkety-blinks as bits and pieces of red 'fragged' files are quietly, quickly and efficiently shuffled around, turning briefly orange and then fading to blue 'all in order' lines, one below the other.

Ah, the poetry of complete mindlessness, the marvellous escape in the complete suspension of coherent thought. I thought that was why I stopped watching TV. I actually don't have one at home, convinced as I have been about the existence of an elaborate and extremely convoluted plot that the great mother hens of media have hatched; the fiendish and unholy perpetration of deliberately doctored info-tainment, carefully designed to keep us all in a state of near-constant vegetable-mind, unable to read between the lines (defrag lines?), unable to truly use the gifts of reasoning that were finally ours after a hundred thousand years of evolution.

What is this compulsive desire to be entertained? This manic lust that even, in these troubled times, seems to outweigh the more primal ones of hunger, thirst, and sex (at least, sex with a person other that yourself)? Did it exist, say, even fifty years ago? Is it a bastard child of the Internet?

Can't think right now. Have to go watch iTunes rip a CD.

What crap.