The Schlock of It All

Stop trying to make me smart.

No seriously, I don’t need you to enlighten me. I don’t want to hear about how the economy is in a recession and how moved you were by Actress A’s portrayal of Mother Teresa.

I know this may be hard to fathom but sometimes I just want to watch television, see a movie, or read a book that doesn’t make me smarter or enrich my life in any way. Sometimes, I just want to be entertained or more to the point, sometimes I want to shut the brain down and just relax.

I have a friend who just feels the need to let me know how much he knows about everything, movies, books, and sports. I mean this guy is knowledgeable about everything to the point where you just want to slap him and say I simply don’t care.

Not every movie I see has to be Schindler’s List. Not every television show I see has to be on PBS. Not every radio station I listen to has to be NPR. Not every book I read needs to be Atlas Shrugged. You can’t eat salad all the time; sometimes you just want a grilled cheese.

Therein lies the value of “schlock”. Schlock is comforting, schlock is reassuring, and schlock is easy. I don’t often watch VH1 but when I do I assure you I’m not doing so to further my education, or to enrich my knowledge of life. I watch VH1 because inevitably someone is about to do or say something that will be so stupid that I can feel more content with my life. The same can be said for books. I like to read. I firmly believe we as a society don’t do enough of it but not everything I read has to be on the NYT bestsellers list. Not every book I read has to be recommended by Oprah. Not every book I read has to make my brain grow.

So, I beg of you to take some time off from making the world a smart, better place and read some schlock. Don’t know any? Well I got you covered. How about some romance, or fantasy, or even mystery?

The next time you see me on the bus reading the latest Jim Butcher novel I want you to know I’m not doing so because I’m looking to strip down the protagonist and see what makes him tick. I’m not reading it so that I can espouse upon the sweeping arc of the plot. I’m not reading it so that later we can talk about the European influence on science fiction novels.

Nope, I’m just appreciating the schlock of it.