By Cathy Guiles

Perspectives Co-Editor

In the 2001 movie ``Josie and the Pussycats,'' the furry-eared protagonists discover that the program ``Behind the Music'' on cable channel VH-1 is part of a vast conspiracy to enforce conformity on unsuspecting teenagers and get them to buy the latest bland music and outlandish clothes.

I enjoyed this particular plot device, but after watching VH-1 (recently added to Calvin's cable lineup) during interim, I know better: This channel is actually part of a vast conspiracy to keep me from studying.

Who wants to do homework when you can watch not only ``Behind the Music,'' but also such quality programming as ``Rock and Roll Jeopardy,'' ``Pop-Up Video,'' and ``Arsenio Jams,'' featuring artist interviews and musical performances from the glory days of ``The Arsenio Hall Show''? Not I. I grew up without cable TV at home, so my previous exposure to VH-1 was limited to stays in hotels that had the channel. On one weekend trip to the beach, while my companions were swimming or taking naps, I spent Saturday afternoon laughing at ``Pop-Up Video,'' thinking I was finally part of the greater music-loving world.

Perhaps I spent January simply making up for lost time, or maybe I was just sick of CNN (my old favorite cable channel), but I think there was something more to my infatuation: the humanizing influence VH-1 had on me as a music fan. After watching the network for a few weeks, I came to understand that music stars are surprisingly ordinary people who worked very hard and struggled a long time to achieve their success. Some of them didn't know how to handle their fame and recognition, and as painful as it was to watch some rock stars tell of their days performing high on drugs and losing all their money, it made me more compassionate, more empathetic.

But as much as I enjoyed the endless hours of music video trivia and interviews with Britney Spears' third grade teacher and Billy Idol's onetime girlfriend, I finally reached my breaking point. It came one Sunday afternoon when I spent more than three consecutive hours watching ``Behind the Music'' reruns. That's pathetic enough, but these weren't even episodes about artists - they were retrospectives of years. Watching the show about 1992 brought back powerful memories of being in middle school during the era of grunge: wearing my dad's flannel shirts and watching my Nirvana-loving classmates mourn the death of Kurt Cobain. The emotional pull was so strong that of course I had to stick around for the 1999 and 2000 recaps, too. But after a few hours, as I sat glassy-eyed on the sofa, I decided I didn't like this couch-potato feeling and resolved to cut back on my VH-1 viewing.

As I began to watch the channel more critically, I noticed a lot of repetition between programs. You'd think one ``Behind the Music'' installment would be enough to cover the life of someone like, say, Madonna, but no; there's also ``TV Moments,'' ``Driven,'' ``Before They Were Rock Stars,'' and who knows what else - all containing much of the same material. I know musical artists have complicated, convoluted careers that can't be summarized in one or even two hours (minus those really annoying AT&T commercials with Carrot Top). However, seeing the same clips of Michael Jackson ``live from Neverland Valley'' over and over again, week after week, made me want to watch C-SPAN (which is saying a lot). As the cliché goes, familiarity breeds contempt, and as much as I enjoy some of Michael's music, I couldn't stand being whacked over the head with him so much.

Don't get me wrong: I also admire VH-1 for its philanthropic efforts, such as the ``Save the Music'' campaign of several years ago, which funds music education in public schools that can't afford it. The televised ``Save the Music'' benefit concerts both raised money for a noble cause and put the cause in the public's mind (and, one hopes, on politicians' agendas). More recently, VH-1 held ``The Concert for New York City,'' which raised over $30 million for those affected by Sept. 11.

So, as with all else in this world, VH-1 has its benefits and its downsides. As a newly selective VH-1 fan, I'll keep an eye on the listings so I can set the VCR should they re-broadcast dc Talk's 1992 performance on Arsenio. But otherwise, I'll exercise those time-honored Reformed values of discernment and self-control and give homework first priority. Back when they were characters in the original Archie comic books, Josie and her faux-feline friends became famous without VH-1, and if they didn't need it, neither do I.