As someone who is notorious for becoming captured–only that implies someone else is doing the capturing–who entangles herself in television shows, I have fallen prey–there I go again–become addicted to another one. Mr. Robot.
If you have not seen this show nor are interested in hearing someone explore their fascination with this medium, this blog post is not for you. I wish it were not for me. This post is less about how clever and provocative–riveting–the show is, because you can read about that elsewhere. It is more about what it means to come to terms with an addiction.
Another show that had lured me into chasing reviews, interviews, online discussions and art that heavily influenced the creators, includes The Wire. I’m pretty vulnerable to multidimensional characters and gritty settings. But who isn’t?
So I must confront the question, is my addiction specific or humiliatingly, general? Like Starbucks. Like the replacement sexist stereotype of cats as companions for single women. On that side note, the people I know who express their affection for cats the most are notably an ex-marine who has been in several committed relationships and couples. However, I also am aware of single ladies who own and love cats.
How much are we allowed to appreciate a show? What is the appropriate amount of attention we are allowed to indulge after being gripped by it. On a snow day, I have had time to spend time with Reddit. I’m adding Fight Club to the delightful no school day schedule.
What is my suboxone or treatment for opiate addiction? Work reading? Writing a blog post? Finishing some coding lessons? Exploring electrical circuit activities for an upcoming exploratory class? Literally find ways to do community work to support others going through detox?
Unanswered questions remain.