My first job was in the New Jersey boondocks. Very beautiful place, interesting work but no people around. I couldnt afford a car and the bus would show up just 4 times a day. There was just one Walmart and a Chinese restraunt nearby. So after work, all I did for nearly a year was pick up Chinese food and sit and watch Sopranos every night.
I think the Sopranos depressed me more than the actual reality of my isolation.<p>My take away was, depressed people really should be kept away from writing shows that are mass broadcast to the chimp troupe. They have great awarsness of people and social issues but dont see paths to solutions or happy endings. And therefore do not have the capacity to produce hope in others. The end result is depressed people depressing people.<p>Its what literary critics call hysterical realism. To much American writing is either escapist fantasy or hysterical realism. Both effectivdly capture attention but dont leave the consumer of the narrative in a mentally healthier place.