The Order of the Day
All this malarkey, underway every which way we turn, has become full blown hogwash. I’m waiting for someone to put a muzzle on the ongoing nonsensical babbling.
The opportunity to watch collegiate basketball tournaments came along the past few days. Omigosh, the putrid break times for analysis is out of control. Why can’t these people, know-it-all’s, just be quiet, no talking and allow viewers to see the games?
There are disadvantages to the modern day technology. Because the professional political motor-mouths dare nonstop, why can’t the sports guys and gals just shut up?
I know, it’s the modern milieu, but give us watchers a break. The point has been reached. No matter which cable commentariats we turn to, they can’t stop the constant irritating flow of verbosity, and, let me abbreviate my thought, BS. You fill in your favorite expletives.
In days past of great baseball TV-casts, Dizzy Dean would let loose with the Wabash Cannonball instead of innocuous interviews. Heck, watchers had already seen a third strike, or home run or some such detail. No need to tell me what had been seen in black and white.
The in-game interviews are silly. Just like on the political gabfest with politicians from either the House of Senate buildings. Or, from the White House lawn. Mute!
I know for certainty teevee needs images to enthrall viewers. Sometimes it’s overly much and worth nothing since the in studio person has already reported what is going to be re-stated.
There are lots of advantages to the latest communicative technology. The constant badgering of viewers with frauds just for image reasons is nauseating.
All this video stuff is frustrating at the most. I like sports, I like politics, and many other fun things, but the video wizards are ruining a good thing.
Great actors know the art of pauses and facial movements and being quiet in scenes. This should be a lesson for today’s communicators. Stop talking. Halt the blabbing which is only to fill time. Please, “purty” please, give us a rest.
I have learned. Hit the mute button. It works. I could list the names of all the nimrods, the boobs, the irritating nincompoops on all of the chattering class, but I won’t. Why not? Easy. It may sound like I’m jealous but I’m not.
Despite all the neuroses among the wannabe experts, the world “ain’t coming to an end,” nor are we going “to Hell in a hand basket.” I have it on good authority from such intellectuals and writers as H. Allen Smith, H.L. Mencken, Harry Golden and Elmore Leonard. Plus, that late great Roy Meachum, Frederick’s word man personified. Such eminents!
Let me add. It’s politics as usual everywhere. Obfuscation is the order of the day.