Eat Me... Or Not

The world, my friends, is a dangerous place. Of course, if you watch TV, you knew that by now.

I’m not even talking about the news. That’s too simple. Anyone who’s sat down for five minutes in front of the 7:00 local already knows that every report is just one depressing story after another. There’s no point in going after such an easy target. I’m hunting after something a little more obscure.

The Discovery Channel.

Surprised? I was too, at first. I mean, here’s a network I’ve been watching since my father finally broke down and let us get satellite TV. I’ve seen untold numbers of myths busted, sat through Shark Week after Shark Week, and watched crab fishermen do… well, basically the same thing over and over again for dozens of shows (but can I miss an episode? Nope.)

So it came as a shock to me when I discovered the hidden agenda tucked into the Discovery Channel programming.

What first tipped me off? Strangely, a commercial.

Now, I’ve been known to, at times, shall we say… stretch the truth. But when I describe this commercial, believe me when I say that none of this has been embellished or modified in any way:

Screen fades in from black. A couple is seen walking down the street. A hooded man steps out from behind a corner, gun in hand. Two shots fire. Screen fades out. The first words of the commercial appear: “Do Not Murder.”
Fin.

Well, isn’t that pleasant. I’ve been obsessing so much lately over the criminal undertones running rampant through American television advertising. Honestly, have you seen the commercials for all these new 3-D animated children’s movies? If that’s not a subliminal message for gang recruitment, I don’t know what is.

Ok, here’s the thing: I can appreciate where they’re coming from with this. Murder can at times be rather distasteful. I saw The Ten Commandments back in the day; I remember the business with those tablets. No golden cows, and all that.

That, however, is part of the reason that the logic of this project is lost on me. I’m pretty sure that everyone, even (perhaps most especially) a hardened criminal, understands that murder is general frowned upon in polite company— so much so that the USA Network routinely devotes roughly 12 hours of its daily schedule to Law & Order episodes preaching the merits of staying on the straight and narrow. Popular culture, parents, Google News; these are just a few of the reasons that you’d be hard pressed to find a single person unaware of the fact that killing someone is genuinely an unacceptable practice.

Which leads me to believe that murder prevention might be a rather tall order for a 30-second TV spot. I mean, you’re not really telling these people something they don’t already know. In fact, the only way I could see this having any noticeable effect at all is if there was some pretty amazing timing involved. Like, as the guy is pulling his .45 from under the bed, he knocks down the remote, turning on the TV just as the anti-murder commercial was showing. And even then, he’d probably just roll his eyes.

Start with something smaller, that’s all I’m saying. Jaywalking, cheating on tests. Something to get a foothold with before tackling the big guys.

Unfortunately, the commercial was just the start; I’m currently much more concerned by Discovery’s latest wild animal binge.

Did you know that one of the up-and-coming Asian agriculture markets involves tiger breeding? Well, I didn’t either. Not until a special report from the Discovery Channel! Apparently, the ridiculously large demand for the tiger’s powdered reproductive organs (No lie— I think this is common knowledge, but if you happen to be unaware, check out Wikipedia. Apparently, it’s the equivalent of super-Viagra) has driven some entrepreneurial farmers to breed and raise tigers as livestock.

As the son of a farmer, I would like to offer a few thoughts here. First, and most obviously, there’s a reason why the animals we raise are mainly herbivores: it’s very reassuring to know that we’re the one’s who’ll be eating them, not the other way around. I’ve never actually pressed the issue, but I’m fairly confident when I say that if I had to distract a cow with steak while filling its feed trough, there would have been no FFA stock shows in my past.

I just can’t imagine the thought process behind the decision to become a tiger-rancher. Are they free-range? Do you have to chase them down with lassos made of steel cables just so you can drag them to the branding fire? And if you decide to pen them up, how do you exercise them? A team of professional dog-walkers in shark suits? The entire process seems a little too complicated to me.

Oh, and then there’s the series that documents the top 10 ways that a region’s animals can kill you. That’s the entire plot synopses right there. There’s no treatment description, no warning on how to avoid the various horrible outcomes— just a play-by-play description of each unpleasant (and excessively gory) detail.

That’s got to be a confidence booster. You’re slicing your way through the jungle, when you feel a pinprick on your leg. You wrack your mind for any information on treating a snake-bite, when the educational-television section of your brain lights up and sends you… a mental image of your leg rotting off? Well that’s helpful. And that’s not even addressing the hypochondriacs who might have seen that show.

“What do you mean that was a garter snake?!? I saw a special on Discovery, man. You’ve got to take the foot off, that’s the only chance for survival! IT DOESN’T MATTER IF IT DIDN’T BITE ME, IT’S THE ONLY WAY!!!”

You see? There’s a reason some of us didn’t like watching PBS as children. All that learning can be harmful to your health.