Tele- at a distance
Vision- a manifestation to the senses of something immaterial

A box that sits in a room.

Look at how the seats in this room are arranged,

They face the box, like weary travelers around a crackling fire.

And indeed this box does provide a kind of warmth,

A soothing, seductive bliss that radiates from the front panel.

What eminates from this box is crudely called entertainment.

In Rome, over two thousand years ago, citizens flocked to the Colluseum,

There they watched animals, including humans, slaughter each other.

Within the civilisation of Rome existed a breach,

Where it's people could remind themselves of the ruthlessness of nature.

The attraction is perverse, but obvious:

The Romans wanted to see what they could no longer experience,

Using their empathy to transport themselves across the stone stalls of the Colluseum,

Into the shoes or paws of a contender in the ring.


Now consider a person, sitting not in ancient Rome,

But on a sofa in front of a box.

They are seeing images, flashing past faster than the eye can track,

Sounds flood the room, adding the other spectator sense.

This person hardly moves, their eyes occasionally twitching for greater resolution,

Their chest rises and falls softly,

And nothing more.

The stillness of the body conceals the activity of the mind within,

Like a monk in a deep trance,

This person is meditating, with the help of multimedia.


What does our watcher see?

What anyone would see if they looked and listened to the box.

So why can a passerby look on without interest, while this person cannot be separated?

Because of the vision that is created within them,

The pictures and sounds only serve to convince the mind,

Convincing the mind that these flashing images and sound waves are as real as the sofa under you.

And it is then, one the mind opens itself to the content,

That the imagination endows the box's multimedia with a meaning,

Like a waking dream, images tell stories of issues central to our being.


Who tells these stories?

You tell yourself the story,

As you do when reading a book,

Your internal voice speaks to your self.

So if you are narrating,

Who is the author?

Who is writing the script for plays acted in your dreams,

Who is using this powerful tool,

And to what end?

The rest of this is politics.

So I will simply give my personal feelings:

When I have the choice, I will give the tool to those who i trust will not abuse it,

Those who will help me understand myself and others,

By giving insights into themselves and their ideas.

I will never willingly give this tool to someone who's interests lie in product placement,

Or those who wish to deceive me,

Or those who wish to deceive themselves.

And that is why I find television is like a bubbling stream,

Traveling down from the hills.

But on these hills factories and farms have been built,

And their waste is dumped into the fresh water.


What could be pure and refreshing,

Is, in my country, and I believe many others,




"Look, not at visions, but at realities."




How would you like to use your free will?

Go see your doctor, they'll help
Open new doors of expression




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