“In the ocean, water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink. A sea of information, but no living water.” What Jesus would have said scanning the channels on his television[1]
“Las Vegas is a city entirely devoted to the idea of entertainment and proclaims the spirit of culture in which all public discourse increasingly takes the form of entertainment. Our politics, religion, news, athletics, education, and commerce have been transformed into congenial adjuncts of show business, largely without protest or even much popular notice. The result is that we are a people on the verge of amusing ourselves to death.” Neil Postman [2]
Where is Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob when you need them? [3] It is hard to fathom how mainstream entertainment has now become a real danger to children, families, and America’s well-being. Social media and technology have turbocharged some good and a great deal of evil into people’s minds. The plug-in drug, television, has been the primary tool used for seventy years. TV is now like the pleading parent who wants to sit the children around something the family can watch together, anything to get the kids out of their rooms and off the internet. Whoa—let me slow down a bit. Many people in their twenties have not watched anytelevision, and if they have, it was over the parents’ shoulders during what used to be called family dinner.
Huxley vs Orwell
One of the great books of the 20th century was Neal Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death. The forward to the book contrasts two dark visions presented to the educated world—Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, (1932) and George Orwell’s 1984, (1949). [4]
Orwell feared that we would be oppressed and that reading books and thinking for ourselves would be outlawed by Big Brother. Winston Smith, the primary character comes home from work and retreats to a corner of his apartment where the surveillance camera can’t see him so he can read and write. Meanwhile, the “Ministry of Truth” rewrites history and shoves the real story down the “Memory Hole.” In some ways Orwell’s dark vision has come true, the parallels to present governmental actions with social network giants revealed in recent months are remarkable.
Huxley’s vision has no Big Brother. He claimed that the general population would come to love their oppression. They would adore the technologies that undo their capacities to think.
Orwell feared the banning of books and thought the truth would be concealed.
Huxley feared that no one would want to read a book that we would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance and he thought that humans have an infinite appetite for distraction.
Orwell said the inflicting of pain would control people.
Huxley said the inflicting of pleasure would control people.
Orwell feared that what we hated would ruin us.
Huxley feared that what we loved would ruin us.
Now forty years on from Postman’s analysis of Orwell and Huxley, I think both Orwell and Huxley were right, both have happened. We are unraveling while in pain and by the seeking of pleasure.
The Pain
Watching major network news is submitting oneself to editors putting the best face on our decline. Rising prices, murder, smash and grabs, beatings, and a wide assortment of crimes are becoming everyday mayhem. It is all jammed into 12-minute segments and presented in the most effective wording to attract advertising dollars. Then the networks make money and can pay huge salaries to the elite culture’s sycophantic anchors. These outlets are designed to give you what will confirm your bias and preference. If you don’t like what you hear, change the channel and watch the network that soothes your soul. That is capitalism, that is entertainment. It is also dystopian.
Thinking is becoming more difficult. That pain you feel between your ears is real thinking in this age of infotainment. [5] At least when you take the earbuds out. It doesn’t come easy. Political parties discourage thinking through the facts and policies they propose. They know that with a divided government, most of what they propose will never become law because they don’t have the votes in Congress.
Therefore, they communicate with images, impressions, and feelings. Joy or strength, chaos or calm, good or evil, don’t think when you vote, feel the love and the hate. Save the country, save democracy, love the poor, hate the rich—never mind that the rich create the jobs and provide most of the nation’s revenues. Vote with your heart, even though—
“The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately sick; who really knows how bad it is?” But I, the Lord search all hearts and examine secret motives. I give all people their due rewards, according to what their actions deserve.” Jeremiah 17:9,10 NLT.
If eight million people watched a presidential debate on conventional television up to 80-100 million saw or listened to it on other media platforms. The American public will be bombarded with commercials and appeals until election day. And the pain is your confusion plus not knowing your own heart. You can’t trust your own opinion, you are not sure who is good or evil, right or wrong.
Who can you trust? God alone knows the human heart and that includes yours and mine. This is the hard part—what does God say is true or false about the policies, candidates, and our reality? [6] I would suggest prayer and reading of Scripture concerning moral and social issues. Google, yes—I said Google—the Bible and subjects that are important to you. Some may not have Bibles or know the Bible very well. Read what it says on subjects that interest you. Then read Psalm 139 in its entirety and pray the last verse—
“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.”
Then cast your ballot and live your life.
The Pleasure
Has anyone watched the Emmys lately—or Oscars, Golden Globes, Grammys, the Tonys? The sets are kaleidoscopes of color, the costumes spectacular, and sweet like the event was baptized in pancake syrup. And of course, it is double-dipped in LGBTQ+ ideology. It is gay, gay, and even more gay.
This is a community that needs an entire month to get over being gay, that is a lot of shame to take that long to get proud. Shame and pride are not virtues, possibly there could be a middle ground, like a healthy humility before God. Actually, I have gay neighbors and friends and we get along fine. I don’t talk about my sexual position and neither do they. They are great neighbors and wonderful citizens, the + for me is they are productive people who contribute a net good to society.
Except when they attempt to convert me to their positions. If gay isn’t a choice, I’m mystified by their evangelism. And they feel the same way about me. I’m a good guy until I try to convert them. I could do an entire column on this but suffice it to say at this moment, when I talk about Christ to them, it is not about them being gay, it is about the sin under the sin—wanting to control their own life. Knowing Christ and following him is a choice. We have that in common. I need God as much as they do.
“Hollywood” isn’t a place anymore unless you want to get mugged. It is a mindset, a myth, an ideology, a pleasure machine. Whenever The Community gathers they genuflect to anything odd or irregular as in the perverted twerks, twists, thrusts, and hand gestures displayed during music awards, namely the Grammys and its lesser shows. It started when Michael Jackson jerked on his crotch and moonwalked during “Billy Jean” and it has gotten worse since. If every performer were required to moonwalk before grabbing him or herself, that would cut back on this problem.
Awards are parceled out through politically correct filters so that no one is left behind, and no one’s feelings are hurt. The last thing they want is to be considered biased, racist, or mean, which = Republican.
Oh, what a fate, to be successful while being unsuccessful. Dennis Quaid, Jon Voight, and others do great work but don’t look for them to be awarded anything by The Community. They banish any artist who commits heresy. Movies are panned, books not reviewed, and songs though popular, are ignored. It is another story about the power of the controlling elite and its separation from the general public.
The pursuit of pleasure is what Huxley feared, and we have inflicted ourselves with pleasure. Truth is for chumps—trivia, distraction, and feelings, are the thing. We have become passive uneducated minions who love being cared for by the government, our benighted masters who keep cutting us checks. Technology has undone our capacity to think, to resist, and to fight. Indeed, we are amusing ourselves to death.
Father Knows Best
A very long time ago many of us septuagenarians grew up watching Jim Anderson and his wife Margaret, daughters Betty and Kathy, and son, Bud. The Andersons were a family of five in a nondescript house in middle-class America. The program was called Father Knows Best. Over 200 episodes of a program extolling what could be said to have been American values, even biblical values. Years later black America gave us the Cosby Show, which did the same basic thing, presenting the same values through an African American lens. These programs were watched by millions and provided a cultural glue that held the moral constituency of the United States together. If nothing else, it defined normal and entertained—it was a good tonic for the soul.
Today’s television portrays the father as one who not only doesn’t know best, he is a feckless boob like Homer Simpson and sometimes, stupid, immoral, bigoted, even dangerous, and pathological. Even worse, if there is a worse, is the absent father or abusive father, confused and in pain. Fatherless boys—which I was—could do better in the 1950s. I was surrounded by a society that helped me. Uncles, coaches, teachers, other fathers, and my grandfather all played an important role in helping me grow up. Yet it was still dicey and I was unstable during certain periods.
But young black boys were at a much higher risk. Frankly, the only ones I got to know were basketball players. I was in the minority as I ascended to college basketball. And later in even more advanced leagues. But my teammates were from a different world. They were not fathered and were not sure how to be fathers. I recall the day my college team was eating a pre-game meal when a black woman with a child in each hand walked into the dining room. It was the girlfriend of one of our players with his two children. We, the team, didn’t know about any of this and he was surprised, to say the least. Fathers seem pretty important in this world. As I sit here writing, my image of my father is a black and white photo. I never met my father, I didn’t know him, and now he is gone. This all has to do with the image of the father, the role of the father, and how it all has been presented to us as Americans.
Neither Orwell nor Huxley were religious men of prayer and faith. Much of the world is morally confused and lost at sea. But people around the world pray the “Our Father,” which is, in one form or another, the Lord’s Prayer. When Jesus’ disciples wanted to know how to pray, this is what he said:
“When you pray, don’t babble on and on as people of other religions do. They think their prayers are answered merely by repeating their words again and again. Don’t be like them, for your Father knows exactly what you need even before you ask him! Pray like this: “Our Father in heaven, may your name be kept holy. May your Kingdom come soon. May your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us today the food we need, and forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us. And don’t let us yield to temptation, but rescue us from the evil one.”
So, my friends pray, trust, follow, seek
Bill Hull
From the Beelzebub Beehive
Autumn 2024
[1] Must confess, I made this up.
[2] Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death (New York, New York: Penguin Books 1985,) ix.
[3] Anyone who can drive a “stick shift” remembers kiddo morning TV in beautiful black and white. Its biggest star was Howdy Doody, a real dummy manipulated by a sort of real person named Buffalo Bob. There were little kids seated in bleachers called the Peanut Gallery. It humorously taught us good stuff, but it didn’t mention our sexual identities, suggest we explore our inner persons, or hint that Howdy Doody was strangely attracted to other male puppets. Sesame Street started well in the 70s, but Bert and Ernie, two sweet puppets who shared a room finally were corrupted by the idiots manipulating them—they were the real dummies.
[4] Brave New World published in 1932, 1984 published in 1949.
[5] Yes, a new word, a cross between information and entertainment.
[6] I would recommend knowing your sources. Most commercial networks are partisan. Some networks are mere extensions of political parties. Lawfare is simply a series of campaign events manipulated by the courts. It might be advised that if you watch a debate use CSPAN—it has no commentary or opinion attached. No one’s discernment is perfect except God’s. Yet our reading of God and the Bible is flawed as well. That is why I suggest prayer and scripture, and then do the best you can. And be warned, what one party accuses the other of doing is normally a projection of what they are doing themselves.
Available at Amazon in Paperback, Kindle, and Audible