My husband and I just subscribed to Netflix after tiring of each others' incessent need to channel surf. We didn't readily admit to this being the catalyst, but we all know how annoying it is to watch another person take out their ADD on the very object whose desiny is to amuse you.
It's a tall order.
After being a Netflix member for over a month now and signing up for the 3 movies at-a-time deal, we've also discovered that this is a waste of money since you'll never receive a DVD more than once a week. Each week, we aspire to beat the system somehow and yet it always averages to be the same scenario playing itself out: If we watch our movies during the week and send them back right away, chances are we will not have another DVD in time to watch for the weekend.
But of course the question remains that if TV is far better than movies these days, as Newsweek tells me, why are we so dependent on our Netflix for viewing satisfaction?
Our DVDs are a default for us. This means that if there is nothing on the telly (sorry been watching too much BBC "The Office" on Netflix), we mumble the word Netflix. Some shows are staples in our home: "The Office," "Heroes," "Lost" and "South Park" being at the top. Then there are the fillers like "Shark," one of fifteen "CSI" locales, and "Law & Order."
Last night, our filler was "House." Since the time slot's major competition is "Pussycat Dolls Presents," it was a no-brainer. Still, watching singer Dave Matthews play a musician who happens to be brain-damaged didn't feel too much of an acting feat, but at least we got to loathe Hugh Laurie's House character a bit more and leave the episode feeling someone had been more of an asshole that day than either of us. Did I mention that Personal guilt runs high in my house.
But back to Tuesday night TV and the search for a show that doesn't entirely suck. We rounded out the night with the "48 Hours Mystery" show. It's a bit better than "Dateline: To Catch a Predator" in that it's less likely that the perv next door or someone you once met at a bar will be exposed on national TV as a pedophile and leave you permanently scarred emotionally.
Anyways, the particular case featured on "48 Hours" was also one that I had followed since it was a local story involving a former NYC socialite who'd been found brutally beaten and murdered in her Cape Cod home with her 2-year-old daughter bending over her mother's slain body, attempting to suckle mommy's breasts. The Christa Worthington case attracted national news coverage, but here in Boston it was nauseatingly covered ad infinitum.
Naturally I know when I watch these unsolved murder cases, I go to bed thinking the killer will be coming after me that very night because the rational part of me has been extinguished. And given the restless/criminal action going on in my apartment as of late, perhaps cuddling up with a innocent, non-violent book is a healthier psychological alternative.
Then again, TV really is like decent junk food and as are well aware of, even the bad junk food still is better than going hungry.
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