It's one of the most powerful and disorienting and disturbing feelings I've ever known and perhaps the very best reason I can think of that I now watch very little mainstream TV, much less sitcoms, much less those howlingly soul-deadening laugh-tracked things featuring Kelsey Grammar or Charlie Sheen or maybe that enormous guy from "Everybody Loves Raymond," shows that make your soul curdle like fresh soy milk in the sun. It's also the sole reason I've trained myself to instantly mute all TV commercials when they appear and turn my gaze from their grisly carnage lest their death lasers of hyperbranded idiocy penetrate my flesh and make me impotent and encephalitic and Republican.
The feeling is this: You're sitting there zoning out in front of some mindless slew of shows and you're sucked in and not laughing in the slightest and actually only remotely amused, even as, deep down, some benumbed part of you is quietly screaming, oh sweet Jesus with an old "Will & Grace" DVD, why the hell am I watching this swill? It's not even funny or interesting or even all that entertaining?
And then three or four or nine hours into your TV drone, you begin get that slimy feeling on your skin and your face is all oily and your jaw is slack and your genitalia feel all shriveled and your heart is palpitating strangely, and you finally say, OK that's enough, and shut the damnable TV off, and wham. More...
See also: Jill Price, the woman who remembers everything...
And this: Not all Americans are stupid, but this...
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