There's a somewhat famous speech from Newton Minow in 1961 that declared television a ""vast wasteland."" At times it's a hard point to argue—they thought it was bad in 1961, before ""Survivor"" opened the door to reality television. Today's programming probably makes ""Gilligan's Island"" look like ""Masterpiece Theatre."" But let's withhold all of our judgments about MTV, TLC and other dumb, peripheral processing shows for a second and consider the fact that TV may be the greatest art form we have.
I'm not arguing that analyzing some postmodern poetry or attending an Ibsen play isn't more intellectually stimulating. I can't say that tuning into an hour of TV drama is more politically charged than attending a political rally. But since the purpose of art is to convey truth, beauty and all that other crap, when TV actually achieves that apex, the television box has the scope to reach the less-privileged, uneducated and stubborn in a way that no other art form can.
Movies can be spectacular one-night stands, but television is a long-term relationship. Your favorite show changes and you hate it, but then you find your way back to it again. You invest yourself in a characters, and it's like you know them. That's the key to getting people to care. Your favorite character commits a crime, and your concept of good and bad changes. Watching someone's marriage fall apart makes you feel better about your own bad relationship. A character you thought you knew turns out to be gay, and how could even a total homophobe not feel for them?
Seriously, if every person against gay marriage would just watch Keith and David on ""Six Feet Under,"" I swear Proposition 8 would have turned out differently. Emotional investment in a fictional character may be the spark that makes our world leaders think twice about a political issue—just look at the UN's conference on ""Battlestar Galactica.""
""Summer Heights High"" is the best TV import I was exposed to this year. Only eight episodes long, the Australian TV show hilariously detailed high school life through one actor playing the parts of an over-zealous drama teacher, a spoiled private school student and a deadbeat bully. It was silly and over-the-top ridiculous, but, at the show's end, I found myself sympathizing with the bully-equivalent character I hated in high school and appreciating the profession of teaching more than I ever thought I could.
And that's what I'm trying to get at—people's opinions, especially as they age, are not easily swayed. But if a show can effectively manipulate your emotions, it becomes a whole different ball game.
I'm sure this all sounds hopelessly sappy and/or abrasive, but I mean it, and since it's my last column, I figure there should be a point to why I churned out 500-600 words every two weeks.
Whether any of you found this column enlightening or boring or whatever, I hope I was able to communicate how much I believe in television. As stupid as TV can be, it also comes through. For all the damage it may do to our schoolwork, brains or careers, I think we consistently come out for the better.
It was a pleasure writing for you. Stay flossy and take a break from finals to watch some good, politically-relevant, life-changing TV. Or some Tila Tequila. I don't give a crap. Peace.
Let Ali know what you've learned from watching the desecration of dead bodies by e-mailing her at rothschild@wisc.edu.
