Television is a dying medium. With so much free content to watch online I see no obvious way back. Do not be scared by this changing of the guard. Embrace the new reality. Take a breath, refuse to accept the same old crap on repeat, and dive into something that can help you.
Take my cousin Justine for example. Her job infected every part of her life. She took calls on Christmas morning, and was a regular missing person at family events. Dark shadows made permanent homes underneath her eyes.
Then one day she messaged me about a new YouTube channel. How just fifteen minutes a day spent watching their videos had changed her life. She sent me a photo of her laptop. On the screen was a statue in the Greek style, the moon casting a glow on smooth marble limbs. I worried about the lit candles near her electronics, but this was a small price to pay for such a text that for once contained no apology.
We saw a lot more of Justine after that. She began carrying everything in an old rucksack rather than a designer handbag, and her vibrant dresses changed to tracksuits. The constant phone calls disappeared. Justine offered no resistance when her takeaway was an hour late. She smiled when someone barged into her on the bus.
I did not mind her request to bring over food. Apparently it was due to an issue with her banking app, and a coincidental broken credit card. Weeds dotted the garden path, and her front door was on the latch. The hallway was spotless, but fridge level cold.
Justine sat cross-legged in the living room, her frame more wiry than I remembered. A new flat screen dominated the wall, a huge eye that was impossible to avoid. I unpacked the bags into a kitchen that contained a sad bottle of mayonnaise and three pieces of stale bread. She said it was time for the livestream.
The visuals had changed. Instead of the calm shine of the moon, the statue stood in the entrance of a grotty, moss lined cave. The glimmer of a fire cast shadows around three figures curled up at the statue’s feet. On the soundtrack a crunching industrial guitar clashed with a mournful trumpet on repeat. 328 others joined us according to the number at the bottom of the television. I knew they all wore tracksuits.
Justine went stiff, like our cat when it passed away. She watched the screen with her neck burning angle. I told her I was leaving, but I do not think she even noticed anyone had spoken.
You might think I was worried. Stressed about what lay within the house, and the state of my cousin. But I walked in even steps, and took long, calm breaths. The statue made me realise some things are not worth worrying about. That in our new exciting world, you have to let the past go.
Line: Justine went stiff, like our cat when it passed away.
