This is wild. I was just thinking about this old, obscure book yesterday, wondering where I put that copy I bought second hand for a dollar in 1990. I think I left it at my grandparents' house, hoping my grandfather would take the hint and turn off the TV that was always on, even back then, and also the one in the bedroom that they would sleep to.
I've always hated the sound of a television, the way it destroys all opportunity for thought, the way it robs us of some kind of consent necessary for attention. I was sketching out a blog post about how the internet was the opposite of television, just for a while, and now it's turning into something worse.
I miss the old boredom. It was something different, last century, when it came from too little. Today's boredom comes from too much, and I think there should be a different word for it.