I Like to Watch

The Fix "24" Contest: Submit your plotlines to put the punch back into what used to be one of TV's best shows. Plus: Wasn't it a coup that "60 Minutes" got that interview with the sweet Martian boy?

Jan 12, 2004 | Hello Earth!

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but after three weeks away from my two closest friends, Philips Magnavox and Sony, it concerned me how little I missed them. It made me feel guilty, really, to see how quickly I adjusted to life without them.

I'm not saying it was easy from the start. Instead of spending most of my day gazing, slack-jawed, into pop culture's effervescent void, I had to speak to other live human animals. I had to drive places in a car, park in parking spaces, sit in straight-backed, unyielding chairs, order things off menus. I had to smile and act as if I did these sorts of things all the time, as if it wasn't strange to not just observe but participate in unscripted human interaction, as if it wasn't frustrating not to be able to turn down the volume on the neighboring table's conversation. For a while there I felt like Chauncey Gardner from "Being There." I was amazed at how little rising action there was, how low the stakes were, how vague and unfocused these characters around me appeared. Who could even guess at their motivation, or mine? We were swimming in a muddled no man's land of home cooked meals and Playstation 2 and the witticisms of visiting in-laws, punctuated by the barking of my mother's psychotic little dog. The whole thing played out like an endless denouement, or a rambling art film that only a snotty film student could love.

After an initial period of alienation and shock, though, I grew to enjoy this unpredictable un-TiVoed world. As unsettling as it was to look at people in drab clothing whose hair wasn't professionally styled, I began to appreciate the mumbled inanities, the rambling small talk, the long silences. I went on walks outside, and the air smelled like pine needles, and when I passed people on the road, they never said anything clever or snappy. I even read books, which are filled with words that tell complicated stories. They're pretty weird -- instead of watching the plot unfold onscreen, you have to imagine the whole thing, and sometimes you don't even know whether or not a character has highlights or dresses funky or has a goofy high voice. And -- you're not going to believe this part -- some books don't have a single hot teenager in them!

Anyway, needless to say, planet Earth is a really cool place to visit, but I could never live there.

It came from outer space!
Speaking of other planets, wasn't it cool that, in anticipation of the Mars landing, Ed Bradley interviewed a real live Martian boy? Apparently on Mars, all the little boys and girls sleep together in a big bed, and sometimes they get drunk on wine beforehand. But the little Martians love each other and they'd sooner slit their wrists than hurt each other! The Martian boy said so. He said he couldn't believe the way us dirty Earthlings think. Our filthy Earthling minds make him sick, which is why he's hired high profile defense attorney Mark Geragos to represent him.

It seems that certain Earthlings are out to get the little Martian boy. Bradley took pains to explain that, while the Mars lander might look a little weird bouncing up and down for a full kilometer, its purpose is only to take some pictures and scrape up some little rocks and dust so that scientist Earthlings at home can tell what's been going down on Mars all these years. But the Martian boy said, no, that's not true! The Earthlings want to hurt his feelings and embarrass him and rifle through his stuff and cut up his mattress with their long knives and it's totally no-fair!

And when the gentle Martian boy told Bradley of the indignities he suffered under the Earthlings' power, when he whispered in his sweet voice, "They manhandled me very roughly!" it was enough to make you cry. After all, what if the Martian boy was right, and the Earthlings were out to get him? What if, on that red, dusty planet tonight, there are hundreds of Martian boys just like him, crying themselves to sleep, cradling their dislocated shoulders and trying in vain to purge their minds of the bad men who put doodoo on the walls just to freak them out?

But then Bradley, whose network went to elaborate (some have said spurious!) lengths to secure the interview, moved on to some tough questions, and a commotion of lawyers could be heard just off-screen. The little Martian was distracted for a minute, and then he whispered, "I'm not allowed to talk on that."

Mostly the interview with the little Martian boy made me feel sad. Maybe he did some bad things, but he's a Martian, for Christ sakes, what does he know of good and bad? And what kinds of moron parents let their kids hang out with Martians anyway?

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