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Pandora's Box Unlocks
With prosperous public to politics wed,
privacy's threatened, it can't be gainsaid.
Consumer protection is often misled
by headlines enticing and small print widespread.
Set in strip lighting, or spoken, or read,
through radio, T.V., broadcasted in bed.
Nor ever has Internet, spammed, been immune,
text message records, repeats, slick slogan, tune.
Printed in polychrome over our head,
in so many senses, for senseless fathead,
over the airwaves judiciously spread
from high ultra-violet to low infra-red,
pasted on posters in blue, black, or red,
advertisement squares all our savings have bled.
The first time I set eyes upon square screen
was for the Coronation of the Queen,
the room was packed with neighbours far and wide,
sardines with scarce a breathing space inside.
But that was almost sixty years ago,
since then from novelty we've seen it grow
from monochrome to tri-di spy immersion
subliminal for and against subversion
to cover acres as necessity
acting for good and ill till cecity
swallows sight, with insight's déjà vu
quite compromised, disinformation too
blatant to ignore which rumour pours
upon mass and seeps through skin deep pores
polluting much, for such appears a lot
of Public Mission with both words forgot.
It's difficult to talk about the 'box'
ignoring all its spread in fact unlocks.
Here 'News' from global village in real time,
there sights and sounds of peaks men mean to climb.
Convergency has helped it piggy-back
on Internet that some folk love to hack,
as streaming waves however they're defined,
all senses of the term, we must remind
ourselves that impacts follow paths to logic strange
as here they help and there their feeds derange.
One thing is certain, advertising space
has cut attention spans yet leaves slight trace
of passing through collective consciousness
to leave John Doe in quite a pretty mess.
This essay could continue till each cow
comes home, they roam on many pastures now,
the arguments both pro and con should be
well integrated in convergency
of multi-media, cinema, and web,
3D, HD, and acronyms that ebb
and flow as progress further progress seeds,
information saturation succeeds
in drawing in the crowds five hours a day
to kill extended time on crime, sport, play,
perhaps to compensate for empty mind
that dare not look to future nor behind,
but lives from day to day as series shower
debilitating plots that seem to flower
to fill the void most would avoid to fill
in ways that build rich character fulfilled.
Heroic couplets on the television
seem odd conveying theme, yet the decision
stems from the ways the human mind has grown
to integrate disinformation sown
as if quite part and parcel of their days
on Earth, to comfort loneliness. Displays
of wars abroad or terrorists at home
distract the brainless brains once wont to roam
from more important things, priorities
once held essential, now old-fashionned tease.
One can no longer speak on television
as media in itself without precision
that information channels multiplied
with much which borrows begs from other side,
as radio upon the Internet
cannot be severed from flash films, and yet
the question could perhaps be re-assessed:
will future influence be worst or best
when all is said and done, in fifty years
a fairer answer may with laughter, tears,
or some of each, an explanation offer
apart from that of draining public's coffer.
An overview essential seems to be
when broaching impact that stems from T.V.
upon our daily lives that seem to flee
from societal responsibility
as individual decision making
appears to be upon the point of breaking.
(12 April 2012)
poem
by
Jonathan Robin
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