In the Beginning

‘Goggle Box’, ‘Idiot Box’, ‘Television’ – call it what you will. There’s no denying that these fancy packages of televisual-trickery have had a transformative effect on society. That’s been fairly clear since they first started popping up like mushrooms 90-odd years ago. They’ve let us learn about the world, and its news, without having to set foot beyond our doorsteps. They’ve entertained us with high drama and low comedy. They’ve taught us to explore our options in ways we might never have figured out on our own.

Not everyone would agree that their impact has been entirely positive, especially if we focus on the low-rent effluence that passes for entertainment these days, not to mention the carefully-curated ‘news’. Maybe those things were better in the past? Maybe they were worse? But one thing is certainly clear – the way we received them was different…

Yes, indeed, there were no OLED, QLED, Mini LED or IPS screens in the glory days of The Before Times. Nothing was flat-backed or wall-mountable in any straighforward or convincing sense. What we had were CRTs – bulky, heavy, and decidely three-dimensional cases housing a Cathode Ray Tube, whose glowing fosfors delivered their images across a curved glass screen. When you put it like that, they seem pretty unappealing compared to the massive-scale, ultra-high-definition, and eye-searing brightness of modern tellies.

At the same time, however, they had an analogue allure and charm that has yet to be fully replicated by the clipped digital experience of the modern Age. You’ve no doubt heard tedious middle-aged audiophiles bang on about the spiritual qualities of analogue sound? You know the type. They’ll spend hours waxing lyrical about how vaccuum-tube technology can transform the sound of a rattling dustbin lid into the precious whisper of a visiting angel? Well, here’s the thing – 99.99999% of people who make claims like that are wrong. Not as a matter of opinion, but demonstably so. By the time you’ve assembled enough cash to afford that kind of kit, your hearing has naturally deteriorated to the point where you simply can’t reigster the finer nuance of the over-inflated specs. The specs may be accurate. But beyond a certain point, they’re only measurable using specialist equipment under laboratory conditions. That’s not to say, however, that all this value-added can’t possibly have an impact.

While we cannot hear the whole range of sound produced by top-end audio equipment, there is a possibility that certain ultra- and sub-sonic frequencies can activate parts of our brains independently of our ears, stimulating certain kinds of experience in the process. This is true of natural phenomena, like the Northern Lights, where the pops and fizzes experienced by many witnesses have been shown to be activated directly in the brain, rather than through the mechanical conduits of our ears. There is also growing evidence that Stone Age peoples were aware of these properties of sound, and may have used them in the design of ancient temples, such as the Tomb of Eagles in Orkney, and the Hypogeum of Hal Saflieni in Malta. Pressumably, the idea was that carefully modulated chanting and groaning would be warped by the accoustics of the building in a way that helped promote spiritual elevation??? We’ll leave the question of ‘performance-enhancing substances’ to one side for the time being.

Now, think about CRT TVs.

They work in a different way, and with a different purpose in mind. Most people watch them with their eyes. But perhaps their glowing tones of shimmering light also serve to open a gateway in our subconscious, in this case linking our waking present with our deep-rooted ancestral heritage?

Regardless of the rubbish that was on TV 40 years ago, we might compare the act of huddling round a glimmering CRT to that of staring wistfully into a flickering fire, and drfiting, in thought, from what we were actually seeing to other forms of consciousness – just like our ancient ancestors must have done in their caves and hovels for thousands and thousands of years beforehand? Oooft! I know! Deep stuff, eh?

‘But where on earth is all of this leading?’, I hear you sigh. Well, it’s the begining, isn’t it? The threshold to the world of the video arcade. I wrote a poem about it. But what does it mean? What does it say to you? Let me know in the comments below!

In the Beginning was the Light,

flickering and grey.

The Light resolved into a picture -

a moving image of people, rooms, houses, and streets.

Then in a flash!

The Light burst into colour.



The Light was confined to a Box -

glass-fronted, with polished wood-grain sides,

and sturdy legs of angular steel.

The Box loomed sentient at the heart of our world.

It brought warmth to cold winter evenings,

It opened a window onto the Universe.



We huddled before it, mesmerised by its hypnotic glow.

It held us in its thrall.

Until the other boxes came,

with their dials and buttons and wheels and levers,

Demanding attention, giving control.

They were everywhere. Then, they were gone.

© 2023 Arcade Odysseus