So call me a voyeur, paraphiliac, pervert, depending upon your vocabulary and self righteousness, or my old favorite, the Peeping Tom (P.T). My shrink thinks I enjoy watching other people because of something to do with power, that my ‘victims’ are powerless in that they have no say in whether I can watch them or not. He thinks this is some kind of compulsion. We are working to bring me closer to the mainstream.


My wife on the other hand thinks I am a depraved soul with little hope of redemption. In the beginning of our arranged marriage, she thought I was just kinky. But then, when I suggested that she have an affair so that I can watch her enjoy another person, she gave up all hopes of my return to the blissful folds of marital harmony. Her faith in me was not restored when I was arrested for committing a lewd act while watching women sunbathers from behind some bushes.


I see my probation officer religiously. I am pretty restricted in what I can do and where I may go, that is if I want to stay out of the prison. So essentially , I am being restricted to my living room after work, which it turned out was a blessing in disguise for yours truly the P.T. I’ve had a long-standing disdain for mainstream media, but imagine my elation when I discovered today’s television .


Click….Here is a bespectacled man who looks like a car salesman. Before I could touch that remote button I hear a series of bleeps as one of the guests lunges both physically and verbally at her mother, who has revealed her ample bosoms to the tune of the music. The censors smudge up the image of her breasts, only to heighten the effect . The camera zooms out to reveal that she is sitting on the lap of a hapless looking teenager with multiple piercings. Turns out he was her pregnant daughter’s boyfriend who was now sleeping with the mother. Camera focuses on a young woman in the audience. Her mouth is open, yet you can’t miss the smile on her face, I am filled with pride as I behold P.J (peeping Jane). She is good looking, well groomed, and so very mainstream, what a refreshing departure for our kind from the shady looking characters who frequented the booths in Midtown Manhattan which I used to patronize. Zoom out…Ah! The whole audience would not be out of place at any suburban mall in U.S.A. There is a commercial break as the P.J’s and P.T’s in the studio stand up to chant the host’s name.


Click…The president of U.S.A. There is an invisible voice asking him if he touched Monica’s breast. He shifts, and squirms, and tries to get away from the real question, but the invisible prosecutor rebukes him, asks him the question again. I love it, my living room has turned into a P.T heaven, that all too familiar joy of seeing someone’s most private moments be revealed to me, comes rushing back. And to think that the president of this country is the subject of my viewing pleasure, this is truly the land of opportunity.


I can’t stay with Mr. President for too long as I long to discover what lays waiting for the click of my remote. A courtroom scene, but this isn’t Matlock, this is real . When my wife had pleaded that I should satisfy my unusual appetite by watching dirty movies, I had tried to explain to her that I am a connoisseur of truth. I can’t get any pleasure when I know that the people I am watching are following some sort of script, when I know that they control what I see. Anyway, it turns out that the plaintiff claims to being shortchanged by the plumber. Suddenly there is a tirade of insults towards the plaintiff as a tough looking judge admonishes her for speaking out of turn. She makes demeaning statements about her intelligence and appearance. The woman cowers, and the judge goes on. I imagine the judge brandishing a whip instead of the gavel, her black robe replaced by the leather and spikes of a dominatrix I particularly admired .


The next channel has a psychiatrist slapping a talk show guest couple with humiliating interpretations of their relationship. This follows the revelations of intimate nature about the couple’s inadequacies in bed. They listen with their heads bowed as she delivers her commentary on them after having met them for the first time in the context of this talk show. Bravo! Heres a job I want.


Another click and I see a young woman making photocopies of her behind. Apparently a P.T had installed a close circuit camera that she didn’t know about. Hence her candid moment of intimacy with the machine is now on national TV.


By now I am feeling quite satisfied, I turn off the TV, pick up the phone and call my psychiatrist. I think I won’t be paying for his services any more. Through no effort of his, I have been mainstreamed.