After half a century of practiced immunity and the quite natural hardening of emotions that time is liable to affect I am relatively unimpressed by images played upon screens particularly weighted to manipulate my innermost feelings. Not suffering oceans of tears or jackal like fits of guffawing at the seesawing antics transmitted upon the goggle box or other personal and public media source is most concerting and reassuring.
The carefully positioned scales do fall from mine eyes occasionally, and natural occurrences and quite excellent theatrics will invest my practiced defenses, drawing a titter, a tear, concern, serenity, the whole pantheon of reactions, sentiments, inclinations.
Absurdly, reality in all it starkness will oft leave me unmoved, cold, dispassionate; whilst fiction can conversely slash through an artery inducing exsanguination most extreme. The addition of imagination to experience induces overwhelming pressure, trauma, lacing the combination with colors most vibrantly disturbing,