The Parable of the Sleepless Man

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, at what point does 24-7 media reach diminishing returns?”

Josh spoke thus:

A man was sitting watching television, exhausted but unable to sleep.

The television offered the sleepless man memories.  Some of these memories were on compact disc.  Some of these memories were in books.  Some of these memories were die cast.  Some of these memories were limited-edition minted.

The man wanted these memories.

The television offered nostalgia in family dramas, in situation comedies, in hilarious, unscripted witticisms and stumbles.  There was nostalgia in song.  There was nostalgia in dress.  There was nostalgia in cookery, quackery and collectibles.

The man wanted this nostalgia.

What price was the man willing to pay? the television asked.  What was the value of childhood regained?  What was the cost of that once-familiar adolescent titillation?  How many installments were needed to reestablish the man’s unbounded sense of possibility, his absolute faith in potential, his unquestioning loyalty to tomorrow?

The man was willing to pay for faith.

And speaking of faith, the television sold faith too.  Faith in mankind and its ability to cure, to feed, to house, to educate.  Faith in the superhuman and its ability to forgive, to validate, to vindicate.  Faith in loans, faith in credit, faith in consolidated debt.

The television sold freedom. Freedom from pain, freedom from government, freedom from death, freedom from financial struggles.  Not freedom from taxes, funnily enough.

The television showed the man the healthy alternatives: exercise, burned calories, reduced fat and sugar.

The man wanted to be healthy.

The sleepless man saw sleep-inducing pillows, sleep-assuring mattresses, sleeping pills, sleeping clothes, sleeping partners--even marriage partners, on the phone, on-line, on offer.

The sleepless man saw sleep-denying drinks, sleep-defying pills, sleep-proof drama, comedy and headlines.  The drama, the comedy and the headlines were framed by slickly packaged memories.

The sleepless man wanted those memories.  Maybe those memories would let him sleep.

The sleepless man reached for his credit card.  The sleepless man bought memories.