Some of you say I'm playing God by zapping the soaps.
Responding to last week's column on the TV-B-Gone, the handy-dandy zapper I've been using to switch off TVs in public places, reader John Clark says, "The right to free speech takes another blow from a Washington Post columnist." By silencing TVs in hospital waiting rooms, restaurants and video stores, he says, I am engaging not in "citizen empowerment, but vigilante behavior. . . . Remember, televisions were introduced into the public lobbies to provide both information and entertainment to the patrons and staff." By wielding my TV-B-Gone, I may be "preventing the communication of important messages."
Reader Dan Elam says I "crossed the line. Who are you to decide what others want? I, for one, am grateful for having CNN in the airports: It breaks up the monotony of attempting to read another cookie-cutter newspaper that merely reprints the same stories from the previous city."
Stuart Johnson challenges me to pocket my zapper and give up my sly ways. Instead of waving my "little wand of anonymity," he suggests, "stand up, walk over to the offending television and press the power button." He says I will soon find either that "1) People actually are annoyed with you turning off their TVs, or 2) you spent $19 on something you could have done for free with your finger."
I should note that these gents are in a small minority. By far the bulk of your e-mails and calls expressed a burning desire to get one of these devices (www.tvbgone.com) so you can start saying "No" to businesses that use the idiot box to dull us into being compliant.
The prospect of turning off the noise inspires many people to seek the next step: They want Cell Phone-B-Gone. While that particular brand does not yet exist, engineers have developed "cellular jammers" and "mobile phone immobilizers" for your mischievous pleasure and aural relief.
The good news is that these things shut down all cell phones within 15 yards or so. The bad news: They are expensive -- $200 to $500 -- and of questionable legality. They are marketed primarily to hospitals (the same folks blasting us with TV noise in the waiting rooms), movie houses, concert halls, churches, schools -- places where quiet is sacred. But wouldn't you love to use the device in restaurants, on trains or on the sidewalk?
(Why are hospitals and doctors' offices infatuated with blasting TV shows at us? The same infernal health privacy law that has lately turned communicating with doctors into a Kafkaesque nightmare has also encouraged physicians and hospitals to set TVs to full volume. Although the government insists the law doesn't require white noise machines or blaring TVs, the law has so terrorized the medical business that many office managers believe they must drown out all conversations with patients by subjecting waiting clients to non-stop Barney and Judge Judy.)
I asked some readers who opposed my vigilantism if they feel the same about cell phone abusers. Elam replied that even though both can be annoying, there is a difference: "TV is there, ostensibly, for entertainment purposes. A cell phone is a personal device that doesn't offer anything to the people around you."
So perhaps there is a social value to cutting off cell phone users who intrude on public space. But who shall decide which cell conversations are intrusive? Are we destined for an era of dueling zappers, a real-world Star Wars? You know where this goes: An ugly rash of Zapper Rage incidents, then a backlash, then the inevitable zero tolerance laws.
Mitch Altman, the inventor of TV-B-Gone, tells me that he, too, has been accused of playing God. But he notes that in a public space, the people subjected to TV have generally not chosen to have it on. Altman says the only TVs he zaps are those that no one seems to be watching. Anyway, he says, how could anyone "equate the concerns of God with Americans amusing themselves with television?"
Finally, consider this, from reader Darin Bratram: "Did you realize that you can turn TVs on with the same device? When you are out walking the dog late at night, you can stroll through the neighborhood turning on TV after TV, starting arguments between couples about who went to bed and left it on. The mischief never ends."
I'm heading out there tonight.
The online "Potomac Confidential" chat will return after I complete jury duty.
