Back in NY, I was a hypocrite.

For a while, before seeing the light and switching to Netflix for fleeting entertainment, I overpaid for a plethora of cable channels that provided me with a means to stay plugged-in to all the news (and I use that term loosely), current series' and (my secret favorite) celebrity profiles. As I said, I was clearly paying too much to choose between Law and Order reruns, My Big Fat Greek Wedding on 3 channels or another viewing of Lethal Weapon. Even I Love the 80s wore thin -- and my entire point of reference is the 80s!

So for the last year or so that I lived there I was caught up on all the latest releases on DVD. In addition to the stream of movies, I read Time, Wired, The New Yorker, The Utne Reader, The New York Times, The Sun and Harpers; I also perused all the usual online sources and blogs for even more information on... well, everything. In addition, I was a regular customer at Borders and have quite a library of books... and thank God I do, because the price of books here is outrageous!

We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
Comes on at five
She can tell you bout the plane crash with a gleam
In her eye
Its interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry

But I was also critical of print and broadcast media, having a particular disdain for what passed as news. It seemed like television, in general -- and news, in particular -- was like a big pacifier, titillating the masses with empty messages about, essentially, nothing. Like anything with no value, it may seem harmless (or even fun) at the time, but eventually you realize you've really just wasted a huge amount of time for no other reason than to waste a huge amount of time.

You don't really need to find out whats going on
You don't really want to know just how far its gone
Just leave well enough alone
Eat your dirty laundry

So I watched, read and criticized. This, in itself, was also an exercise in futility since I was skating on the same ice as I would be if I just shut up and actually cared about who would be the next American Idol, or was shocked -- shocked! -- about whatever the semi-good looking news anchor told me was ... um, shocking.

Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybodys pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry

Eventually, I realized I'd overdosed on information. But I had my opinions, my position on things (a vague term, I know, but one that people can understand) and I knew a lot about... a lot.

Or did I?

When I moved, one of the things I assumed was that I'd simply continue to read my magazines and buy books regularly, as I had been for many years. I'd blog (and I did, but elsewhere) and read blogs (which I do, for too long in the evenings), and I'd maintain my usual diet of films, somehow.

But magazines -- in particular, the ones I'd subscribed to -- are too expensive to justify the purchase. I don't watch TV, and the little that I do catch is solely about Australia, with a special, too-long emphasis on sports (which I could give a rat's ass about).

I rarely see a movie unless I rent from Blockbuster, the selection leaving me to wonder: has Hollywood run out of ideas or do only the really crappy movies make their way to the shelves here?

So my information comes to me when I look for it, online. And that's about it.

Which, I notice, leaves me with little to think about outside of my own personal struggles, which I've spent far too much time documenting here for, basically, no reason at all.

Did falling off the wagon of consuming empty broadcast calories leave me undernourished? In the absence of subject, will I have anything to write about again?

We can do the innuendo
We can dance and sing
When its said and done we havent told you a thing
We all know that crap is king
Give us dirty laundry!