Apparently there's a reason why little girls love their Barbie dolls and the little (and not-so-little) boys adore their car-sets. For the very same reason, the loveless turn to romance novels for reprieve and the bored-with-their-lives seek refuge indulging in the lives of others. Turns out it's human nature to hunt down and cling on to the stuff missing in our own existence, or what we hope will shape ourselves in the near future.
Above-mentioned little girls would love to be as pretty as Barbie, and the boys long to one day own cars as cool. The broken-hearted want faith in romance again, and the drama-less want drama.
Most of us resort to a self-prescribed dosage of the idiot-box to get us through. The chick-flicks for a guaranteed happily-ever-after. A high-powered action film where the bad guys always finish last. Or a good old musical where there's a pinch of tension, but everything really is right with the world.
But at the end of each movie, we have to get back to our oh-so-real, drab and unfair lives. Where we can't just do things on a whim and expect everything to turn out alright. Where there actually is such a thing as unrequited love. Where people die and don't come back two episodes later. Where everybody's skinny sans-lipo.
If only real life did resemble the movies. All we'd have to do to elevate world peace say, is get the nuns to sing: 'How do we solve a problem like nuclear warfareee?,' and soon all will be well with the world. If only the bad guys really would end up last. If only all men were like that chap in P.S-I Love You, and all women were well..oh I don't know. Lara Croft? And how great would it be, like in Grease, if given no notice whatsoever everyone knew the lyrics and steps to a sudden song and dance routine.
But then we wouldn't have to rely on the TV for relief any longer. Unless it's those brocolli-stuck-in-teeth moments we're after..or wedgies.
Cheers.
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