下列不属于下丘脑调节肽的是（ ）。
抗利尿激素是由下丘脑的视上核和室旁核的神经细胞分泌的，但不是下丘脑调节肽。下丘脑调节肽包括9种，分别是促甲状腺激素释放激素（TRH）、促性腺激素释放激素（GnRH）、生长激素释放抑制激素即生长抑素（GHRIH）、生长激素释放激素（GHRH）、促肾上腺皮质激素释放激素（CRH）、促黑素细胞激素释放因子（MRF）、促黑素细胞激素释放抑制因子（MIF）、催乳素释放因子（PRF）、催乳素释放抑制因子（PIF）等。
In its modern form the concept of “literature” did not emerge earlier than the eighteenth century and was not fully developed until the nineteenth century. Yet the conditions for its emergence had been developing since the Renaissance. The word itself came into English use in the fourteenth century, following French and Latin precedents; its root was Latin?littera, a letter of the alphabet.?Litterature, in the common early spelling, was then in effect a condition of reading: of being able to read and of having read. It was often close to the sense of modern?literacy, which was not in the language until the late nineteenth century, its introduction in part made necessary by the movement of?literature?to a different sense. The normal adjective associated with literature was?literate. Literary appeared in the sense of reading ability and experience in the seventeenth century, and did not acquire its specialized modern meaning until the eighteenth century.
Literature?as a new category was then a specialization of the area formerly categorized as?rhetoric?and?grammar: a specialization to reading and, in the material context of the development of printing, to the printed word and especially the book. It was eventually to become a more general category than?poetry?or the earlier?poesy, which had been general terms for imaginative composition, but which in relation to the development of?literaturebecame predominantly specialized, from the seventeenth century, to metrical composition and especially written and printed metrical composition. But literature was never primarily the active composition─the “making”─which poetry had described. As reading rather than writing, it was a category of a different kind. The characteristic use can be seen in Bacon “learned in all literature and erudition, divine and humane”─and as late as Johnson “he had probably more than common literature, as his son addresses him in one of his most elaborate Latin poems.”?Literature, that is to say, was a category of use and condition rather than of production. It was a particular specialization of what had hitherto been seen as an activity or practice, and a specialization, in the circumstances, which was inevitably made in terms of social class. In its first extended sense, beyond the bare sense of “literacy,” it was a definition of “polite” or “humane” learning, and thus specified a particular social distinction. New political concepts of the “nation” and new valuations of the “vernacular” interacted with a persistent emphasis on “literature” as reading in the “classical” languages. But still, in this first stage, into the eighteenth century,?literature?was primarily a generalized social concept, expressing a certain (minority) level of educational achievement. This carded with it a potential and eventually realized alternative definition of?literature?as “printed books:” the objects in and through which this achievement was demonstrated.
It is important that, within the terms of this development, literature normally included all printed books. There was not necessary specialization to “imaginative” works. Literature was still primarily reading ability and experience, and this included philosophy, history, and essays as well as poems. Were the new eighteenth century novels literature? That question was first approached, not by definition of their mode or content, but by reference to the standards of “polite” or “humane” learning. Was drama literature? This question was to exercise successive generations, not because of any substantial difficulty but because of the practical limits of the category. If literature was reading, could a mode written for spoken performance be said to be literature, and if not, where was Shakespeare?
At one level the definition indicated by this development has persisted. Literature lost its earliest sense of reading ability and reading experience, and became an apparently objective category of printed works of a certain quality. The concerns of a “literary editor” or a “literary supplement” would still be defined in this way. But three complicating tendencies can then be distinguished: first, a shift from “learning” to “taste” or “sensibility” as a criterion defining literary quality; second, an increasing specialization of literature to “creative” or “imaginative” works; third, a development of the concept of “tradition” within national terms, resulting in the more effective definition of “a national literature.” The source of each of these tendencies can be discerned from the Renaissance, but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they came through most powerfully, until they became, in the twentieth century, in effect received assumptions.
Which of the following can best serve as the title of this passage?
In its modern form the concept of “literature” did not emerge earlier than the eighteenth century and was not fully developed until the nineteenth century. Yet the conditions for its emergence had been developing since the Renaissance. The word itself came into English use in the fourteenth century, following French and Latin precedents; its root was Latin?littera, a letter of the alphabet.?Litterature, in the common early spelling, was then in effect a condition of reading: of being able to read and of having read. It was often close to the sense of modern?literacy, which was not in the language until the late nineteenth century, its introduction in part made necessary by the movement of?literature?to a different sense. The normal adjective associated with literature was?literate. Literary appeared in the sense of reading ability and experience in the seventeenth century, and did not acquire its specialized modern meaning until the eighteenth century.
Literature?as a new category was then a specialization of the area formerly categorized as?rhetoric?and?grammar: a specialization to reading and, in the material context of the development of printing, to the printed word and especially the book. It was eventually to become a more general category than?poetry?or the earlier?poesy, which had been general terms for imaginative composition, but which in relation to the development of?literaturebecame predominantly specialized, from the seventeenth century, to metrical composition and especially written and printed metrical composition. But literature was never primarily the active composition─the “making”─which poetry had described. As reading rather than writing, it was a category of a different kind. The characteristic use can be seen in Bacon “learned in all literature and erudition, divine and humane”─and as late as Johnson “he had probably more than common literature, as his son addresses him in one of his most elaborate Latin poems.”?Literature, that is to say, was a category of use and condition rather than of production. It was a particular specialization of what had hitherto been seen as an activity or practice, and a specialization, in the circumstances, which was inevitably made in terms of social class. In its first extended sense, beyond the bare sense of “literacy,” it was a definition of “polite” or “humane” learning, and thus specified a particular social distinction. New political concepts of the “nation” and new valuations of the “vernacular” interacted with a persistent emphasis on “literature” as reading in the “classical” languages. But still, in this first stage, into the eighteenth century,?literature?was primarily a generalized social concept, expressing a certain (minority) level of educational achievement. This carded with it a potential and eventually realized alternative definition of?literature?as “printed books:” the objects in and through which this achievement was demonstrated.
It is important that, within the terms of this development, literature normally included all printed books. There was not necessary specialization to “imaginative” works. Literature was still primarily reading ability and experience, and this included philosophy, history, and essays as well as poems. Were the new eighteenth century novels literature? That question was first approached, not by definition of their mode or content, but by reference to the standards of “polite” or “humane” learning. Was drama literature? This question was to exercise successive generations, not because of any substantial difficulty but because of the practical limits of the category. If literature was reading, could a mode written for spoken performance be said to be literature, and if not, where was Shakespeare?
At one level the definition indicated by this development has persisted. Literature lost its earliest sense of reading ability and reading experience, and became an apparently objective category of printed works of a certain quality. The concerns of a “literary editor” or a “literary supplement” would still be defined in this way. But three complicating tendencies can then be distinguished: first, a shift from “learning” to “taste” or “sensibility” as a criterion defining literary quality; second, an increasing specialization of literature to “creative” or “imaginative” works; third, a development of the concept of “tradition” within national terms, resulting in the more effective definition of “a national literature.” The source of each of these tendencies can be discerned from the Renaissance, but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they came through most powerfully, until they became, in the twentieth century, in effect received assumptions.
When did the modern concept of “literature” emerge?
In its modern form the concept of “literature” did not emerge earlier than the eighteenth century and was not fully developed until the nineteenth century. Yet the conditions for its emergence had been developing since the Renaissance. The word itself came into English use in the fourteenth century, following French and Latin precedents; its root was Latin?littera, a letter of the alphabet.?Litterature, in the common early spelling, was then in effect a condition of reading: of being able to read and of having read. It was often close to the sense of modern?literacy, which was not in the language until the late nineteenth century, its introduction in part made necessary by the movement of?literature?to a different sense. The normal adjective associated with literature was?literate. Literary appeared in the sense of reading ability and experience in the seventeenth century, and did not acquire its specialized modern meaning until the eighteenth century.
Literature?as a new category was then a specialization of the area formerly categorized as?rhetoric?and?grammar: a specialization to reading and, in the material context of the development of printing, to the printed word and especially the book. It was eventually to become a more general category than?poetry?or the earlier?poesy, which had been general terms for imaginative composition, but which in relation to the development of?literaturebecame predominantly specialized, from the seventeenth century, to metrical composition and especially written and printed metrical composition. But literature was never primarily the active composition─the “making”─which poetry had described. As reading rather than writing, it was a category of a different kind. The characteristic use can be seen in Bacon “learned in all literature and erudition, divine and humane”─and as late as Johnson “he had probably more than common literature, as his son addresses him in one of his most elaborate Latin poems.”?Literature, that is to say, was a category of use and condition rather than of production. It was a particular specialization of what had hitherto been seen as an activity or practice, and a specialization, in the circumstances, which was inevitably made in terms of social class. In its first extended sense, beyond the bare sense of “literacy,” it was a definition of “polite” or “humane” learning, and thus specified a particular social distinction. New political concepts of the “nation” and new valuations of the “vernacular” interacted with a persistent emphasis on “literature” as reading in the “classical” languages. But still, in this first stage, into the eighteenth century,?literature?was primarily a generalized social concept, expressing a certain (minority) level of educational achievement. This carded with it a potential and eventually realized alternative definition of?literature?as “printed books:” the objects in and through which this achievement was demonstrated.
It is important that, within the terms of this development, literature normally included all printed books. There was not necessary specialization to “imaginative” works. Literature was still primarily reading ability and experience, and this included philosophy, history, and essays as well as poems. Were the new eighteenth century novels literature? That question was first approached, not by definition of their mode or content, but by reference to the standards of “polite” or “humane” learning. Was drama literature? This question was to exercise successive generations, not because of any substantial difficulty but because of the practical limits of the category. If literature was reading, could a mode written for spoken performance be said to be literature, and if not, where was Shakespeare?
At one level the definition indicated by this development has persisted. Literature lost its earliest sense of reading ability and reading experience, and became an apparently objective category of printed works of a certain quality. The concerns of a “literary editor” or a “literary supplement” would still be defined in this way. But three complicating tendencies can then be distinguished: first, a shift from “learning” to “taste” or “sensibility” as a criterion defining literary quality; second, an increasing specialization of literature to “creative” or “imaginative” works; third, a development of the concept of “tradition” within national terms, resulting in the more effective definition of “a national literature.” The source of each of these tendencies can be discerned from the Renaissance, but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they came through most powerfully, until they became, in the twentieth century, in effect received assumptions.
What is the earliest adjective associated with literature?
In its modern form the concept of “literature” did not emerge earlier than the eighteenth century and was not fully developed until the nineteenth century. Yet the conditions for its emergence had been developing since the Renaissance. The word itself came into English use in the fourteenth century, following French and Latin precedents; its root was Latin?littera, a letter of the alphabet.?Litterature, in the common early spelling, was then in effect a condition of reading: of being able to read and of having read. It was often close to the sense of modern?literacy, which was not in the language until the late nineteenth century, its introduction in part made necessary by the movement of?literature?to a different sense. The normal adjective associated with literature was?literate. Literary appeared in the sense of reading ability and experience in the seventeenth century, and did not acquire its specialized modern meaning until the eighteenth century.
Literature?as a new category was then a specialization of the area formerly categorized as?rhetoric?and?grammar: a specialization to reading and, in the material context of the development of printing, to the printed word and especially the book. It was eventually to become a more general category than?poetry?or the earlier?poesy, which had been general terms for imaginative composition, but which in relation to the development of?literaturebecame predominantly specialized, from the seventeenth century, to metrical composition and especially written and printed metrical composition. But literature was never primarily the active composition─the “making”─which poetry had described. As reading rather than writing, it was a category of a different kind. The characteristic use can be seen in Bacon “learned in all literature and erudition, divine and humane”─and as late as Johnson “he had probably more than common literature, as his son addresses him in one of his most elaborate Latin poems.”?Literature, that is to say, was a category of use and condition rather than of production. It was a particular specialization of what had hitherto been seen as an activity or practice, and a specialization, in the circumstances, which was inevitably made in terms of social class. In its first extended sense, beyond the bare sense of “literacy,” it was a definition of “polite” or “humane” learning, and thus specified a particular social distinction. New political concepts of the “nation” and new valuations of the “vernacular” interacted with a persistent emphasis on “literature” as reading in the “classical” languages. But still, in this first stage, into the eighteenth century,?literature?was primarily a generalized social concept, expressing a certain (minority) level of educational achievement. This carded with it a potential and eventually realized alternative definition of?literature?as “printed books:” the objects in and through which this achievement was demonstrated.
It is important that, within the terms of this development, literature normally included all printed books. There was not necessary specialization to “imaginative” works. Literature was still primarily reading ability and experience, and this included philosophy, history, and essays as well as poems. Were the new eighteenth century novels literature? That question was first approached, not by definition of their mode or content, but by reference to the standards of “polite” or “humane” learning. Was drama literature? This question was to exercise successive generations, not because of any substantial difficulty but because of the practical limits of the category. If literature was reading, could a mode written for spoken performance be said to be literature, and if not, where was Shakespeare?
At one level the definition indicated by this development has persisted. Literature lost its earliest sense of reading ability and reading experience, and became an apparently objective category of printed works of a certain quality. The concerns of a “literary editor” or a “literary supplement” would still be defined in this way. But three complicating tendencies can then be distinguished: first, a shift from “learning” to “taste” or “sensibility” as a criterion defining literary quality; second, an increasing specialization of literature to “creative” or “imaginative” works; third, a development of the concept of “tradition” within national terms, resulting in the more effective definition of “a national literature.” The source of each of these tendencies can be discerned from the Renaissance, but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they came through most powerfully, until they became, in the twentieth century, in effect received assumptions.
What challenged the definition of literature as reading in the eighteenth century?
In its modern form the concept of “literature” did not emerge earlier than the eighteenth century and was not fully developed until the nineteenth century. Yet the conditions for its emergence had been developing since the Renaissance. The word itself came into English use in the fourteenth century, following French and Latin precedents; its root was Latin?littera, a letter of the alphabet.?Litterature, in the common early spelling, was then in effect a condition of reading: of being able to read and of having read. It was often close to the sense of modern?literacy, which was not in the language until the late nineteenth century, its introduction in part made necessary by the movement of?literature?to a different sense. The normal adjective associated with literature was?literate. Literary appeared in the sense of reading ability and experience in the seventeenth century, and did not acquire its specialized modern meaning until the eighteenth century.
Literature?as a new category was then a specialization of the area formerly categorized as?rhetoric?and?grammar: a specialization to reading and, in the material context of the development of printing, to the printed word and especially the book. It was eventually to become a more general category than?poetry?or the earlier?poesy, which had been general terms for imaginative composition, but which in relation to the development of?literaturebecame predominantly specialized, from the seventeenth century, to metrical composition and especially written and printed metrical composition. But literature was never primarily the active composition─the “making”─which poetry had described. As reading rather than writing, it was a category of a different kind. The characteristic use can be seen in Bacon “learned in all literature and erudition, divine and humane”─and as late as Johnson “he had probably more than common literature, as his son addresses him in one of his most elaborate Latin poems.”?Literature, that is to say, was a category of use and condition rather than of production. It was a particular specialization of what had hitherto been seen as an activity or practice, and a specialization, in the circumstances, which was inevitably made in terms of social class. In its first extended sense, beyond the bare sense of “literacy,” it was a definition of “polite” or “humane” learning, and thus specified a particular social distinction. New political concepts of the “nation” and new valuations of the “vernacular” interacted with a persistent emphasis on “literature” as reading in the “classical” languages. But still, in this first stage, into the eighteenth century,?literature?was primarily a generalized social concept, expressing a certain (minority) level of educational achievement. This carded with it a potential and eventually realized alternative definition of?literature?as “printed books:” the objects in and through which this achievement was demonstrated.
It is important that, within the terms of this development, literature normally included all printed books. There was not necessary specialization to “imaginative” works. Literature was still primarily reading ability and experience, and this included philosophy, history, and essays as well as poems. Were the new eighteenth century novels literature? That question was first approached, not by definition of their mode or content, but by reference to the standards of “polite” or “humane” learning. Was drama literature? This question was to exercise successive generations, not because of any substantial difficulty but because of the practical limits of the category. If literature was reading, could a mode written for spoken performance be said to be literature, and if not, where was Shakespeare?
At one level the definition indicated by this development has persisted. Literature lost its earliest sense of reading ability and reading experience, and became an apparently objective category of printed works of a certain quality. The concerns of a “literary editor” or a “literary supplement” would still be defined in this way. But three complicating tendencies can then be distinguished: first, a shift from “learning” to “taste” or “sensibility” as a criterion defining literary quality; second, an increasing specialization of literature to “creative” or “imaginative” works; third, a development of the concept of “tradition” within national terms, resulting in the more effective definition of “a national literature.” The source of each of these tendencies can be discerned from the Renaissance, but it was in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that they came through most powerfully, until they became, in the twentieth century, in effect received assumptions.
What did literature mean in its earliest sense?
When the television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines, or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse. I invite you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there without a book, magazine, newspaper, or anything else to distract you and keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, violence, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, Mayhem, more violence, sadism, murder, Western badmen, Western goodmen, private eyes, Gangsters, still more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials that stream and cajole and offend. And most of all, boredom. True, you will see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, try it.
Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children? Is there no room for programs to deepen the children’s understanding of children in other lands? Is there no room for a children’s news show explaining something about the world for them at their level of understanding? Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, teaching them the great traditions of freedom? There are some fine children’s shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence. Must these be your trademarks? Search your conscience and see whether you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guard so many hours each and every day.
There are many people in this great country, and you must serve all of us. You will get no argument from me if you say that, given a choice between a Western and a symphony, more people will watch the Western. I like Westerns and private eyes, too—but a steady diet for the whole country is obviously not in the public interest. We all know that people would more often prefer to be entertained than stimulated or informed. But your obligations are not satisfied if you look only to popularity as a test of what to broadcast. Yon are not only in show business: you are free to communicate ideas as well as to give relaxation. You must provide a wide range of choices, more diversity, more alternatives. It is not enough to cater to the nation’s whims—you must also serve the nation’s needs. The people own the air. They own it as much in prime evening time as they do at six o’clock in the morning. For every hour that the people give you--you own them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service.
The author believes that his tastes are _____.
When the television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines, or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse. I invite you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there without a book, magazine, newspaper, or anything else to distract you and keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, violence, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, Mayhem, more violence, sadism, murder, Western badmen, Western goodmen, private eyes, Gangsters, still more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials that stream and cajole and offend. And most of all, boredom. True, you will see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, try it.
Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children? Is there no room for programs to deepen the children’s understanding of children in other lands? Is there no room for a children’s news show explaining something about the world for them at their level of understanding? Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, teaching them the great traditions of freedom? There are some fine children’s shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence. Must these be your trademarks? Search your conscience and see whether you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guard so many hours each and every day.
There are many people in this great country, and you must serve all of us. You will get no argument from me if you say that, given a choice between a Western and a symphony, more people will watch the Western. I like Westerns and private eyes, too—but a steady diet for the whole country is obviously not in the public interest. We all know that people would more often prefer to be entertained than stimulated or informed. But your obligations are not satisfied if you look only to popularity as a test of what to broadcast. Yon are not only in show business: you are free to communicate ideas as well as to give relaxation. You must provide a wide range of choices, more diversity, more alternatives. It is not enough to cater to the nation’s whims—you must also serve the nation’s needs. The people own the air. They own it as much in prime evening time as they do at six o’clock in the morning. For every hour that the people give you--you own them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service.
It can be inferred from the passage in regard to television programming that the author believes _____.
When the television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines, or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse. I invite you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there without a book, magazine, newspaper, or anything else to distract you and keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, violence, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, Mayhem, more violence, sadism, murder, Western badmen, Western goodmen, private eyes, Gangsters, still more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials that stream and cajole and offend. And most of all, boredom. True, you will see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, try it.
Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children? Is there no room for programs to deepen the children’s understanding of children in other lands? Is there no room for a children’s news show explaining something about the world for them at their level of understanding? Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, teaching them the great traditions of freedom? There are some fine children’s shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence. Must these be your trademarks? Search your conscience and see whether you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guard so many hours each and every day.
There are many people in this great country, and you must serve all of us. You will get no argument from me if you say that, given a choice between a Western and a symphony, more people will watch the Western. I like Westerns and private eyes, too—but a steady diet for the whole country is obviously not in the public interest. We all know that people would more often prefer to be entertained than stimulated or informed. But your obligations are not satisfied if you look only to popularity as a test of what to broadcast. Yon are not only in show business: you are free to communicate ideas as well as to give relaxation. You must provide a wide range of choices, more diversity, more alternatives. It is not enough to cater to the nation’s whims—you must also serve the nation’s needs. The people own the air. They own it as much in prime evening time as they do at six o’clock in the morning. For every hour that the people give you--you own them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service.
The statement that “the people own the air” implies that _____.
When the television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines, or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse. I invite you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there without a book, magazine, newspaper, or anything else to distract you and keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, violence, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, Mayhem, more violence, sadism, murder, Western badmen, Western goodmen, private eyes, Gangsters, still more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials that stream and cajole and offend. And most of all, boredom. True, you will see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, try it.
Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children? Is there no room for programs to deepen the children’s understanding of children in other lands? Is there no room for a children’s news show explaining something about the world for them at their level of understanding? Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, teaching them the great traditions of freedom? There are some fine children’s shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence. Must these be your trademarks? Search your conscience and see whether you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guard so many hours each and every day.
There are many people in this great country, and you must serve all of us. You will get no argument from me if you say that, given a choice between a Western and a symphony, more people will watch the Western. I like Westerns and private eyes, too—but a steady diet for the whole country is obviously not in the public interest. We all know that people would more often prefer to be entertained than stimulated or informed. But your obligations are not satisfied if you look only to popularity as a test of what to broadcast. Yon are not only in show business: you are free to communicate ideas as well as to give relaxation. You must provide a wide range of choices, more diversity, more alternatives. It is not enough to cater to the nation’s whims—you must also serve the nation’s needs. The people own the air. They own it as much in prime evening time as they do at six o’clock in the morning. For every hour that the people give you--you own them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service.
Concerning programs for children, it may be inferred that the author believes that such programs should _____.
When the television is good, nothing—not the theater, not the magazines, or newspapers—nothing is better. But when television is bad, nothing is worse. I invite you to sit down in front of your television set when your station goes on the air and stay there without a book, magazine, newspaper, or anything else to distract you and keep your eyes glued to that set until the station signs off. I can assure you that you will observe a vast wasteland. You will see a procession of game shows, violence, audience-participation shows, formula comedies about totally unbelievable families, blood and thunder, Mayhem, more violence, sadism, murder, Western badmen, Western goodmen, private eyes, Gangsters, still more violence, and cartoons. And endlessly, commercials that stream and cajole and offend. And most of all, boredom. True, you will see a few things you will enjoy. But they will be very, very few. And if you think I exaggerate, try it.
Is there no room on television to teach, to inform, to uplift, to stretch, to enlarge the capacities of our children? Is there no room for programs to deepen the children’s understanding of children in other lands? Is there no room for a children’s news show explaining something about the world for them at their level of understanding? Is there no room for reading the great literature of the past, teaching them the great traditions of freedom? There are some fine children’s shows, but they are drowned out in the massive doses of cartoons, violence, and more violence. Must these be your trademarks? Search your conscience and see whether you cannot offer more to your young beneficiaries whose future you guard so many hours each and every day.
There are many people in this great country, and you must serve all of us. You will get no argument from me if you say that, given a choice between a Western and a symphony, more people will watch the Western. I like Westerns and private eyes, too—but a steady diet for the whole country is obviously not in the public interest. We all know that people would more often prefer to be entertained than stimulated or informed. But your obligations are not satisfied if you look only to popularity as a test of what to broadcast. Yon are not only in show business: you are free to communicate ideas as well as to give relaxation. You must provide a wide range of choices, more diversity, more alternatives. It is not enough to cater to the nation’s whims—you must also serve the nation’s needs. The people own the air. They own it as much in prime evening time as they do at six o’clock in the morning. For every hour that the people give you--you own them something. I intend to see that your debt is paid with service.
The author’s attitude toward television can best be described as _____.
