There's something about many non-TV watchers that compels them to announce that they don't watch TV, with a crazed look in their eyes and desperation in their voice, pleading with the world to validate their religious beliefs. I picture them occasionally cracking, hunched over in the closet with a blanket over their head, watching Adam Sandler movies and crying in shame.
From my personal experience with not having a TV for the last ~10 years. I think the reason this comes up a lot is because people talk a lot about what on TV. When I was one of the only people around who did not have a TV and the conversation turned to some TV program, I was "forced" to say that I did not have access to it and couldn't have seen it. I think some people took it as slightly condesending that I actively choose to remove some activity from my life they themselves enjoyed.
When there are only a few people in a group who do not do as everyone else and it's a frequent conversation topic, they stick out. I have been on the other side with veganism. I'm not vegan. People talk a lot about food. Vegans say they don't eat meat. I would be slightly disheartened that they can't relate to the tasty greasy burger I was taking about.
As a lot of my peers now don't have flow TV and a fair amount is vegan, the default of everybody, my self included, is not to assume that you have a TV or eat meat, but to ask if you don't know. When you don't have a TV program or some types of food in common, the conversation shifts to something else. I see a lot less friction now than a few years ago.
And how many of the ones who don't announce this are you aware of?
There's also something about many TV-watchers which compels them to comment as you have (though similarly: those who don't are far less visible).
In a complex social context, behaviours and adornments are social signifiers. They indicate tribal affiliations, and status. What you wear, eat, drive, listen to, do recreationally, watch, and other elements, aren't simply goods and activities, they're social signals, and they act as such because the underlying realities are far too complex to express succinctly.
And what others do, or criticise, isn't simply about behaviour, but about tribe and status.
Which is almost certainly why the urge to state one's own preferences, and to comment on the expression of preferences by others, is so ingrained. And so emotionally-laden.
Incidentally, I think this is one of the reasons why markers such as hairstyles, beards (generally for men), tattoos and bodymarkings, and the like, are such culturally-persistent indicators of status or relationship. It's possible to change your clothes in a few moments. A hairstyle is a committment -- of at least a few days or weeks, but potentially of years. Tattoos are as enduring as diamonds, effectively, and cannot be worn or doffed. Complex braiding, dreadlocks, and the like, require hours, or months, of cultivation.
(Or the ability to spend conspicuously on hairdresser services.)
Even within a given religion, different monastic orders will often have subtly (or profoundly) different hairstyles. Some rounded, some squared, some shaved, some long.
(Also notable: shortening hair, rather than lengthening it, is a rapidly-attained style, requiring only a few minutes with shears and a razer. Tan patterns may take a few days to normalise, but also adapt quickly. Which may be why shaved heads and faces are frequently seen as less credible, or are applied to, e.g., prisoners and fresh recruits, as a rapidly-achieved unifying (within the cohort) and distinguishing (from society) mark.)
There's relatively little serious work on the topic of fads and fashions, which extends to other areas, also typified by complex underlying structures: academia, music, literature, technology, law, and business management. Thorstein Veblen is among those who's written on the topic.
Comments
There's something about many non-TV watchers that compels them to announce that they don't watch TV, with a crazed look in their eyes and desperation in their voice, pleading with the world to validate their religious beliefs. I picture them occasionally cracking, hunched over in the closet with a blanket over their head, watching Adam Sandler movies and crying in shame.
From my personal experience with not having a TV for the last ~10 years. I think the reason this comes up a lot is because people talk a lot about what on TV. When I was one of the only people around who did not have a TV and the conversation turned to some TV program, I was "forced" to say that I did not have access to it and couldn't have seen it. I think some people took it as slightly condesending that I actively choose to remove some activity from my life they themselves enjoyed.
When there are only a few people in a group who do not do as everyone else and it's a frequent conversation topic, they stick out. I have been on the other side with veganism. I'm not vegan. People talk a lot about food. Vegans say they don't eat meat. I would be slightly disheartened that they can't relate to the tasty greasy burger I was taking about.
As a lot of my peers now don't have flow TV and a fair amount is vegan, the default of everybody, my self included, is not to assume that you have a TV or eat meat, but to ask if you don't know. When you don't have a TV program or some types of food in common, the conversation shifts to something else. I see a lot less friction now than a few years ago.
And how many of the ones who don't announce this are you aware of?
There's also something about many TV-watchers which compels them to comment as you have (though similarly: those who don't are far less visible).
In a complex social context, behaviours and adornments are social signifiers. They indicate tribal affiliations, and status. What you wear, eat, drive, listen to, do recreationally, watch, and other elements, aren't simply goods and activities, they're social signals, and they act as such because the underlying realities are far too complex to express succinctly.
And what others do, or criticise, isn't simply about behaviour, but about tribe and status.
Which is almost certainly why the urge to state one's own preferences, and to comment on the expression of preferences by others, is so ingrained. And so emotionally-laden.
Incidentally, I think this is one of the reasons why markers such as hairstyles, beards (generally for men), tattoos and bodymarkings, and the like, are such culturally-persistent indicators of status or relationship. It's possible to change your clothes in a few moments. A hairstyle is a committment -- of at least a few days or weeks, but potentially of years. Tattoos are as enduring as diamonds, effectively, and cannot be worn or doffed. Complex braiding, dreadlocks, and the like, require hours, or months, of cultivation.
(Or the ability to spend conspicuously on hairdresser services.)
Even within a given religion, different monastic orders will often have subtly (or profoundly) different hairstyles. Some rounded, some squared, some shaved, some long.
(Also notable: shortening hair, rather than lengthening it, is a rapidly-attained style, requiring only a few minutes with shears and a razer. Tan patterns may take a few days to normalise, but also adapt quickly. Which may be why shaved heads and faces are frequently seen as less credible, or are applied to, e.g., prisoners and fresh recruits, as a rapidly-achieved unifying (within the cohort) and distinguishing (from society) mark.)
There's relatively little serious work on the topic of fads and fashions, which extends to other areas, also typified by complex underlying structures: academia, music, literature, technology, law, and business management. Thorstein Veblen is among those who's written on the topic.