schlock (shlok)
adjective: Cheap, inferior, or shoddy.
noun: Something that is of inferior quality; junk.

Absolutely the first thing that came to my mind when I read this word was television. Closely followed by the entertainment industry in general.

I hate it because I wonder if I'm getting too "smart" for my own good, but anything short of the type of program on Nature (PBS) about diamonds strikes me as silly, trivial and a sheer waste of time. Schlock culture, schlock programming. Sheer schlock. Say that three times fast!

And because I figure it's always easier to complain than it is to do something, my next thought is, how do we make it better? Well, the bottom line would be to stop watching television. If 90% of the US viewing public would refuse to watch the schlock, advertisers would pull their dollars and voila--money speaks loudly enough demand changes.

But it really goes deeper than that. The general public is obviously happy with the programming, or it would already be obsolete. We have to stop thinking in terms of schlock to eradicate it. Then you get into what's one person's trash is another's treasure, and we can't impress our values on other people, and it all comes back to freedom of choice, and guess what?

I don't have to take on the entire entertainment industry, all the entire television conglomerates, or even my local stations. All I have to do is exercise my freedom, and exercise our family values and TURN OFF SCHLOCK! We were rather pleased with ourselves for having the foresight to turn off the Superbowl half-time performance about twenty seconds in. We missed the rest of the schlock--which in the aftermath that followed showed us that our decision was a good one. It only went downhill from the start.

Schlock will be part of this world until this system of things is over and done. But I don't have to be part of the schlock culture and I can continue to point out the examples to my children as to why it is a worthless culture to get into. There are daily examples of why holding to higher moral standards provide a superior way of life.

End of rant--back to your regular, uh...... Schlock?

I don't think I'm ready to be finished writing yet though. What's today's prompt? Here it is:
Write for 10 minutes from this starter phrase: Sicily is not an island.

"Sicily is not an island! It's my name! M-o-o-o-o-o-m!"

I dreaded that bellow. Lordy these kids could find the most obscure ways to torment one another. Bruce had new-found knowledge. What to do with it? Torment his sister.

"It is too! It is an island off of Italy and I know because I'm smarter than you'll ever be. Go ask her. She'll tell you!"

I absolutely hated it when they put me in the middle. I wanted the wisdom of Solomon! Something that would allow me to speak the truth and still put her brother in his place. Now if I could think about it for two or three days I know I could come up with the perfect reply, but I heard footsteps down the hardwood of the hall. I had about two or three seconds instead.

"M-o-o-o-o-m!" I heard Sicily cry again. I fought the urge to hide in the closet.

"In my room, sweetie." I heard Bruce's footsteps follow--careless, nonshalant, confident. I could hear it in his footsteps for heavens sake.

"Mom, tell Bruce that you didn't name me after an island in Italy!"

"Bruce, I did not name your sister after an island in Italy."

"That wasn't the question. You said Sicily wasn't an island. But it is. It is an island off the coast of Italy, isn't it Ma?"

"Sicily is an island off the coast of Italy."

"So I was right," Sicily said. I grinned--but not visibly--when Bruce's jaw hit the ground.

"You were not! Sicily is an island. You said it wasn't."

"Well this Sicily is not an island. This Sicily is her daughter, and your sister, and maybe someday, since I have the same name as the island, I'll own it."

"Own it? You're nuts! You can't own Italy's island!"

"Who says? You? Who are you? You can't tell me what I can own and what I can't. In fact, you'll never guess what Melly Thompson and I got today."

"What? Tell me?"

"Nope. Can't." She took off down the hall, with her ponytails bouncing in defiance.

"I'll find out you know. I'm so much smarter than you are." Bruce trailed after her.

That was so much easier than I expected! Sometimes I just worry way too much.