
by Cameron Mays
I do not watch anything on streaming. Firstly, I try to eat out for every meal, which occupies much of my time and all of my money. Secondly, I don’t know how to operate a smart TV, which is the main requisite for watching serialized entertainment.
Suspicious of organized religion and disenchanted with professional sports, streaming has become the primary social glue amongst college educated adults. My ongoing abstinence invariably halts such superficial conversation between myself and acquaintances. Normally, this would be no issue, but I am quite dedicated to social chameleonism. Thus, I have developed several techniques to maintain fraudulent conversations on the topic of streaming. In essence, conversations on streamed series can be reduced to one of two topics: 1. shows that someone else watches, or 2. shows you watch. Let’s examine a sample conversation from the first topic.
A: Have you seen ______ ?
B: Yeah! One of my favorites!
A: What’s your favorite episode?
B: They’re all so good. It’s hard to pick a favorite. I really like the writing in Season 2. Season 1 they were kinda still figuring it out. Season 2, they sorta got the swing of things.
A: Yeah, yeah. I see that.
B: It’s sorta a comfort show for me.
A: Really? I find it so tense.
B: Well, it’s just my dad would watch those sorts of shows, so I guess it just sorta reminds me of him.
This broad and vague conversation delicately illustrates two important techniques. The first is mentioning anything but the stars or story. Most people can talk at length about a celebrity or an interesting story beat. Such topics are detector pens to your conversational movie money. Instead, mention a specific technical detail, regardless of truth. If it’s overarching, there’s a good chance you’ll be correct. More than likely, no one pays attention to such matters anyways.
The next topic to note is correcting mistakes. Never say anything that backs you into a corner, but if you find yourself in one, an awkward personal sentiment is the technique out. In the above scenario, is Person B’s dad dead or alive? Person A has no way of knowing unless they ask a more personal question. It’s probable they won’t. What is equally probable is the conversation will shift to shows Person B watches, as shown in the next sample conversation
A: What shows have you been watching lately?
B: I just finished watching Mulch.
A: I haven’t heard of that one.
B: It’s this Swedish comedy show. It’s kinda funny, I sometimes throw it on before bed. A: What’s it on?
B: I don’t know if it’s on any streaming, it’s on MovieWorld if you still have cable.
A: No, I got rid of it.
B: Honestly, it’s a worse version of Fraisier but set in Stockholm.
The goal in the first scenario is to limit conversation by means of overly vague and overly personal. The goal in the second scenario is to limit conversation by means of calculated inaccessibility. The name of the fictitious show is both plausible as to not arouse suspicion, yet unappealing. A foreign language show must either be overdubbed or subtitled, neither of which is appealing to the average American. The hypnagogic viewing statement translates to little reason to be invested in the story or characters.
A risk here is mentioning cable. It’s likely they won’t have it. If they do, another plausible, an unappealing network name might help. The final statement is a gamble. It could lead to further topics of conversation on a familiar television series. If it does, refer to the first sample conversation.
Of course, you could always just tell people the truth. You don’t stream anything. You prefer to read. You go on walks. You only watch game shows. But you don’t want to be an egghead, nor do you want to be a rube. If television now operates as the great social equalizer, streaming is the identifier of the middle class. Perhaps the conformity required for middle class stability needs social disruption, starting with conversations about streaming. But that’s never going to happen. And besides, the only thing worse than an egghead or rube is a buzzkill.