Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Michael Sphar who wrote (7042)	2/7/1998 5:05:00 PM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 71178

As I wandered into the den the other night to turn off the TV-which Ammo inevitably leaves on- there were Nancy Kerrigan and Tanya Harding face-to-face. Anyone know what that was all about? How much would they have to pay Nancy K. to do that? Why would she do it? As I watched, Nancy, wearing a matronly looking navy-blue pantsuit got up and left. And Tanya, looking deeply sincere, and sounding exactly like all the little Christian charismatics I met in college, was saying, "I just really thank the Lord for giving me this opportunity. And I just thank Nancy for being here today and I just..." She has very pretty blue eyes. It made me ill. Both of them. She could have written her a nice note. But then there is the Jamaican bobsled team. And there is the first game ever won by Kazakhstan. Those are neat things to watch and read about. We have definitely lost our ability (or has it been stolen from us)to sit quietly and absorb something. We are barraged (is that a verb?) by music, commentary, color, visuals, explanations, graphics, in a never-ending onslaught; we are jerked from one event to another, with flashbacks and bios, until I just want to scream, "Leave me alone and let me WATCH!" THere was a big deal made at Princess Di's funeral about the silence -as if it were a rare and unusual gift they gave us...they had finally decreed that here was a moment that contained enough meaning, was simplistic enough, that we dummies could manage on our own to be touched, to understand, without their explanations and manipulations about what it meant and how we should respond. A pox on them and their networks and their smug arrogant assumption that without them we are incapable of discernment. Give me my Rambian enclave of independent and caring, if somewhat individualistic and deviant, personalities. Well-dammit. It looks as if I'm going alone to this opera. Pfui.