Reality Bites Itself in the Ass

I finally got Direct TV… any TV… and the holy grail that is American reality television is once again mine after 7 long months of seclusion. I don’t watch a whole lot of it intently, but I do tend to keep it on during the day while I am working and soak a lot of it up through some sort of crapola osmosis. As you can imagine I have made some observations.

People who write MTV in the hopes of getting their ride pimped seem more interested in possessing a reliable car that doesn’t have to be hotwired or towed on a daily basis than having a tropical fish aquarium with a blacklight mounted in their back seat. It’s all well and good to have 6 high definition flat screens in your hatchback, but they won’t really help you when you when you’re stalled at 3am while a meth addict taps at your windshield with a hook. The guys who soup up these cars are extremely good at painting an intricate spider web on the hood of a car, but I’d rather see them get under it. How about a spinoff starring MC Serch entitled ‘Fix my Transmission’?

There’s Something About Miriam is a tipping point. A frightening one. I think the show was inevitable, it just took reality producers 15 years (the genre was technically born in 1992 with the first episode of The Real World) to find a transsexual that could actually fool anybody. More shows are going to feature shocking twists the contestants didn’t sign on for and more humiliated people are going to sue, kill themselves – and even kill others like the guy who’s best friend came out and professed his love for him on Jenny Jones a few years ago. After they got back to their small town, the crushee whacked the crusher. There’s a difference between introducing a surprise guest and introducing mental anguish – and the backlash is coming.

A PE fan since the day in 1986 when I first heard Rebel Without a Pause pumping out of a boom box at JV basketball practice, I have been glad to see Flava Flav’s fortunes increase via his second wind on Surreal Life, Strange Love, Flava of Love and his Comedy Central roast. Let’s face it, the man has a financial responsibility for every sperm that’s ever swum through his sack. I hear that “My 13 Children and Their 5 Mothers Thank God Everyday for Introducing me to Brigitte Nielsen” is currently in development.