Several years ago, I conceived of a scenario where a couple or a family would place a jumbotron-sized TV screen on their front yard, which would broadcast to their neighbors all of the private activities of their household. My premise was that people, when presented with a front-row seat for all of the dirty laundry they could ever hope to ingest, would look away in boredom. It is the secrecy of our shame that makes it so appealing to the exploitive masses.
I was going to write this concept as a short story, or maybe a screenplay, and had I done so, I think it would have proven to be prophetic in the very near future. But today, I think the idea of finding privacy through a life lived with radical openness hardly even raises an eyebrow. It wouldn’t even get picked up for a reality series on TLC.
As Socrates once said, the life not worth watching on TV, is a life not worth living.