Should I compare thee to the cathode ray,
The snaking tube that monitors our lugubrious world,
And skims the social sea with ubiquitous display
And dismal content? Has Monty’s python uncoiled?
For now it slithers across the living-room floor,
To deliver the dross to willing prey, so mesmerised
By the glamour and glossy allure (its jaws flip open,
Our collective head in its gaze) we are anaesthetised
To the danger by the vicarious gore. And swallowed
Whole in surrender, we might as well fall on our sword!
Should I contrast the blasted swill, constantly hurled
Into our surly consciousness, with the occasional pearl
Of true understanding? Or should I forswear thy peerless
Company for an early retirement and tasks less demanding?
The Full Monty
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