Because I had tired of hearing relentless chatter, today, for the first time, I watched an American professional football game with the volume muted. First, a little background for those unfamiliar with televised games.
Each professional football game is explained via commentary from a triumvirate of play-by-play, analyst, and sideline reporters. Their job is to keep viewers attentive, informed, and satisfied, especially during inevitable lapses in game action. To do so, often they stretch to fill voids with the most trivial information such as, “This is the first time in three years that a place kicker scored four times in one quarter.” The triumvirate has conditioned us to depend on them for our game evaluation and viewing pleasure.
By muting the sports reporters, I empowered myself to be the agent who determined what was and was not worth my attention. In the language of pop psychology, I facilitated my football viewing mindfulness. As a result, I experienced a great sense of relief, and enjoyed the game far more than I had similar games.
Previously, by default, I had accepted triumvirate intrusions as natural, inevitable features of televised professional football. That attitude implicitly acknowledged that I’m not a football expert; I presumed that I should not question or resist the wisdom of the National Football League establishment and its promoters. Writing Justifiably Paranoid: Resisting Intrusive and Malicious Influences did not automatically inoculate me from being swayed by firmly entrenched cultural influences, sports or otherwise. I inadvertently proved, once again, to myself that neither I nor anyone can let their guard down.
You undoubtedly recognize where I am going with this blog. In the 21st century, there are play-by-play, analyst, and sideline reporters of all types, seeking to influence your every thought and action. They are relentless in directing you toward their self-serving purposes. As with football viewing, you have been conditioned to listen to the influencers, rather than to depend on your own play by play, analysis, and sideline observations.
The game of football pales in comparison to the game of life that you play minute by minute, day by day, involving such critical issues as your wellness, happiness, and relationships. And because these issues are the most intimate, personal, and idiosyncratic aspects of life, no one, other than you, can decide what is best in your circumstances. Sadly, however, those facts do not deter professional influencers, determined to tell you what to pay attention to and what to do.
For me, the trivial event of watching muted football yielded a surprisingly valuable lesson. You quite likely, also, could profit by choosing a common, unexamined life experience of your own about which to introspect. You might discover that a seemingly routine, unimportant habit can provide insight into taken-for-granted behaviors that you had established long ago.
Each professional football game is explained via commentary from a triumvirate of play-by-play, analyst, and sideline reporters. Their job is to keep viewers attentive, informed, and satisfied, especially during inevitable lapses in game action. To do so, often they stretch to fill voids with the most trivial information such as, “This is the first time in three years that a place kicker scored four times in one quarter.” The triumvirate has conditioned us to depend on them for our game evaluation and viewing pleasure.
By muting the sports reporters, I empowered myself to be the agent who determined what was and was not worth my attention. In the language of pop psychology, I facilitated my football viewing mindfulness. As a result, I experienced a great sense of relief, and enjoyed the game far more than I had similar games.
Previously, by default, I had accepted triumvirate intrusions as natural, inevitable features of televised professional football. That attitude implicitly acknowledged that I’m not a football expert; I presumed that I should not question or resist the wisdom of the National Football League establishment and its promoters. Writing Justifiably Paranoid: Resisting Intrusive and Malicious Influences did not automatically inoculate me from being swayed by firmly entrenched cultural influences, sports or otherwise. I inadvertently proved, once again, to myself that neither I nor anyone can let their guard down.
You undoubtedly recognize where I am going with this blog. In the 21st century, there are play-by-play, analyst, and sideline reporters of all types, seeking to influence your every thought and action. They are relentless in directing you toward their self-serving purposes. As with football viewing, you have been conditioned to listen to the influencers, rather than to depend on your own play by play, analysis, and sideline observations.
The game of football pales in comparison to the game of life that you play minute by minute, day by day, involving such critical issues as your wellness, happiness, and relationships. And because these issues are the most intimate, personal, and idiosyncratic aspects of life, no one, other than you, can decide what is best in your circumstances. Sadly, however, those facts do not deter professional influencers, determined to tell you what to pay attention to and what to do.
For me, the trivial event of watching muted football yielded a surprisingly valuable lesson. You quite likely, also, could profit by choosing a common, unexamined life experience of your own about which to introspect. You might discover that a seemingly routine, unimportant habit can provide insight into taken-for-granted behaviors that you had established long ago.
