You know what?

If you're at home on the weekend, and chance to flip around the channels on your super-duper cable system, you may notice something:

Jaws is always on.

It's true. It might be on Superstation WTBS, or Kind-Of-Super-Station WGN or Not-Even-Vaguely-Super-Station USA Network or some godforsaken little regional teevee outpost, but one thing is 100% pure-as-the-driven-snow true: It's always on.

Another interesting property of the Jaws broadcast is that I always seem to happen upon Jaws at one of two points:

a. When Quint, Brodie and whatever the hell Richard Dreyfus' character's name is (I think I'll call him Mr. Holland, because of that movie with the oboes and such*), are just leaving on the boat. (I'm always happy to join in at this precise moment, because I know I am mere moments from Quint's rendition of "Lady of Spain". As far as I'm concerned the rest of the movie is just an excuse to get Quint into position to sing "Lady of Spain", and say "Lifeless eyes...Like a doll's eyes...")

or

2. When Brodie's kid is in the lagoon.

This Ever-Present Jaws theory has led leading Shark-Movie Philosophers to posit that the world is empty and meaningless, especially when you're in serious danger of being eaten by a giant angry shark.

Other theories favored by Shark-Movie Philosophers include the Persistent Jaws Theory, which states that there exists a parallel universe in which you could continuously flip through all basic cable channels on a Sunday afternoon and watch Jaws totally sequentially and uninterrupted by commercials.

The somewhat less popular Non-Random Jaws Theory holds that if you watched Jaws enough times, the shark would eventually win.



*incidentally, a fun game you can play at home is to imagine the confluence of Jaws and Mr Holland's Opus**, in which Mr. Holland, after years of trying to reach a group of difficult students, finally succeeds in the production of one sweet and sad song, imperfect and flawed, but touching in the love and patience poured into its making. Just at the moment the song creshcendoes, he is eaten by a giant shark.

**I should note, parenthetically, that I have never seen Mr. Holland's Opus, and have no idea what goes on in it, except I'm pretty sure there are some oboes.