I Killed Cable
A lot of sleeps have gone by since I last shared my musings with the enraptured blogosphere. I know that you, dear reader, have been anxiously keeping this page in the background and clicking refresh for the last two weeks. Well, your patience has paid off.
I took a bold decision in the month of June, and killed my cable. Here's how I made the call. I took monthly cost of the cable, annualized it and multiplied it by the number of years that I deserve to live (which is an infinite number). Using this calculation, I determined that I would be paying millions into infinite.
To most trashematicians, the calculation would end there. Not here. I then calculated the number of hours I would likely watch television over the course of this hypothetically immortal life, using as a baseline what STATSCAN says I should be watching (19.8 hours per week, Quebec anglophones over 18) and likewise came up with an infinite number of hours.
I then added up all of the social and intellectual benefit of watching Simpson reruns for the 11th time, test driving new TV series, and watching Peter Mansbridge's shiny forehead. The calculation went something like this: B = 0 + 0 + 0.
So I killed the cable, saved myself $15 per month, and 19.8 hours per week. Let's say that my time is worth $10 to be slightly conservative and use my hourly wage as a lifeguard for the City of Waterloo back as a full-time undergrad.
I calculate that I'm saving approximately $800 of my social productivity per month.
It's not about the numbers. Its about unplugging, and living life more consciously and less robotically.
It's not that I have anything against cable television. If I was the last man on earth, and there was nothing on my island but Rogers cable television, I would probably marry it. It's just that it doesn't have anything to offer me right now, considering that the desert island scenario is surely quite a few years away.
I took a bold decision in the month of June, and killed my cable. Here's how I made the call. I took monthly cost of the cable, annualized it and multiplied it by the number of years that I deserve to live (which is an infinite number). Using this calculation, I determined that I would be paying millions into infinite.
To most trashematicians, the calculation would end there. Not here. I then calculated the number of hours I would likely watch television over the course of this hypothetically immortal life, using as a baseline what STATSCAN says I should be watching (19.8 hours per week, Quebec anglophones over 18) and likewise came up with an infinite number of hours.
I then added up all of the social and intellectual benefit of watching Simpson reruns for the 11th time, test driving new TV series, and watching Peter Mansbridge's shiny forehead. The calculation went something like this: B = 0 + 0 + 0.
So I killed the cable, saved myself $15 per month, and 19.8 hours per week. Let's say that my time is worth $10 to be slightly conservative and use my hourly wage as a lifeguard for the City of Waterloo back as a full-time undergrad.
I calculate that I'm saving approximately $800 of my social productivity per month.
It's not about the numbers. Its about unplugging, and living life more consciously and less robotically.
It's not that I have anything against cable television. If I was the last man on earth, and there was nothing on my island but Rogers cable television, I would probably marry it. It's just that it doesn't have anything to offer me right now, considering that the desert island scenario is surely quite a few years away.
posted by Lt Smash at 6:21 PM
4 Comments:
Welcome to the dark side! Oh, wait - I guess it's the good side.
We cut ours almost 8 months ago, and haven't regretted it one day. However, we have developed an unhealthy obsession with puzzles.
Well, you must replace your vices after all. My cable fix was temporarily replaced by a West Wing bonanza (6 seasons on DVD) which I experienced over three rainy spring weeks. However, that is over with.
No television?
Ich verstehe nicht ... no comprendar ... lah afham ...
Well all I can say, Hubble, is that you're a stronger man than me. If it weren't for my trusty boîte numérique, I would quite possibly go raving mad. Maybe that explains why you have an easier time making friends. All of mine can be found between channels 241 and 244. ;)
You might be onto something, tho. I've recently been experiencing some discomfort with my television set. Specifically, I have this intense desire to punch in the screen, scream like Stallone in Rambo, and throw the whole thing over my balcony. It's only just started recently ... around the time Mr. Harper (you remember him, our glorious leader) started opening his mouth to the national media again.
Put that in your partisan pipe and smoke on it! Mwahahaha ... Yeah man, power to the people!
How can you live without 300 channels to inject yourself with?
I love watching great movies about great people who never watch movies.
Payton, I only wish that I was as good a woman as you.
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