Watching TV the other day, I realised once and for all how lucky we are in the UK. Whilst we are clearly still damned with Big Brother, Pop Stars and soap operas, I feel even these are a little more high brow back home. The admission I’m about to make is a sorry one, but having seen 5 minutes of big brother here in the US, I long for the UK version… without music to dramatise the inevitably, inane inaction. Actually, I have now resolved to watch no more US TV – even Wimbledon! I simply can’t deal with the adverts… every 3 minutes it seems.
I have, for a while now, become convinced of a general American attention deficit disorder.
For instance, sports events are just littered with non-stop stimulation for the crowd… never mind the poor sportsmen and women trying to do whatever they are trying to do, you get music, gymnasts, competitions, even a magician at a Lakers game I attended, to try to make sure the crowd don’t get bored. All of which means that asking the average fan who’s winning the game they are watching is greeted by a pause, a glance at the scoreboard and an attempt to remember what teams they are watching. Admittedly, the events are a little more family oriented than your average Newcastle vs. Sunderland derby, but at least we care who wins! This fact I don’t suspect is helped by the 150 odd games played by each team each season, but that rule can’t be applied to American Football, the game that invented the half time need for more action. All of which means that US sports are supremely suited (some might say designed for) TV. So how do they stand the adverts? I have no idea… bring on the BBC.
Another observation about TV here is the unbelievable double standards of prudishness and liberalness. A couple of days ago, I turned the TV on at lunchtime to find a choice of Con Air, Terminator and Born on the 4th of July. Now all of these films contain bloody violence of a pretty grotesque fashion which might be fine for your average adult, but I would suggest that most children may struggle to deal with some of the artistic content (Gees, I sound like Mary Whitehouse, but bear with me – and ignore the ‘Gees’!). One of the more amusing aspects of censoring here though is that, whilst the violence is acceptable, swearing is utterly forbidden (even in the evening, not that there appears to be a watershed). So Arnie is allowed to murder someone in cold blood in front of the six year old staring in a concerned fashion at the screen, but the accompanying words become, “Die you mother f******!” (they never manage to completely blank the word, maybe trying to prevent the adults from having to guess which expletive was used – the same one as the last time you saw the film, moron!). I’m sure not too much is lost in translation. You are also not allowed to issue visual gestures, which leads to the ridiculous scenario of Goose raising the bird (Top Gun, in case you were wondering!), with the screen blurred out. Blood and brains on the pavement fine, copying Mr Churchill bad… clearly.
And there’s more censorship (bear with me here… I’m on a roll!). Nudity / sexuality of any kind is also strictly forbidden, no matter what time of day. For instance, Shakespeare in Love, a film I’m not convinced could be described as pornographic, ends up with huge edits to prevent what? Well, presumably to prevent little Billy Bob from being warped by a truly grotesque image on the screen of (sshhhh) ‘men and women together’… back to the Terminator there Billy. Now, you might argue that this would lead to a prudish and yet violent society, but clearly the evidence contradicts this…
Back to the adverts… this country is backward with what we like to call the telephone. Admittedly, they have to deal with large barren spaces of nothingness, but still. Did you know, you have to pay for incoming phone calls here? I didn’t. I have to pay for someone I didn’t want to speak to in the first place calling me. Quite frankly, bugger off. Also, if I want a cheap rate, I have to subscribe to some advert service whereby every time I want to call someone, I have to listen to some bored moron trying to sell me something I simply don’t want. And every evening, I get a succession of calls from some equally bored sales rep who always begins the conversation with, “Now, I’m not trying to sell you anything, so please don’t hang up…” “err, no…” [beeeeeeeep] I think I might pretend to be a religious freak next time and try to convert them. And don’t get me started on the religious freaks on TV – talk about trying to scare the shit out of little grannies and get all their money. And, for that matter, the general fear in society… the US constitutes 4% of the world’s population, but consumes 75% of the world’s drugs… go figure? In fact, I have regularly been known to bellow at the TV / radio to stop scaring the crap out of people, but I think the country ultimately enjoys the edge of your seat ride that is brought about by such indoctrination.
All of which started me thinking about what I DO like about this country. I realise that I have been finding a few faults, but I am pleased to say I like it here a lot (I would even without the holidays). To list but a few things: the ‘can do’ and generally enthusiastic attitude (this is definitely the best aspect of US society); the customer service; the strong family commitment; the national pride (not the nationalism that is easy to see and criticise, but the historical pride); the fact that I am treated like an adult in bars (easily the thing I miss the least about the UK); the desire to make life as easy to lead as possible; there is so much that is admirable about the US, but, as always, it is easy to find the faults. Now I’m not saying life here is perfect, far from it, but brining the US back into a more favourable global perception is going to take a willingness on an international behalf as well as an American magnanimity and generosity.
Posted September 28th 2003
Scholey.com 