Reality Shows

"I piss on my generation, I piss on my fucking generation.
All I see are little MTV babies playing their little MTV game
That ain't the fuckin real world I was forced to live in
That ain't the real world at all!!"
- Blood for Blood, "Ain't Like You", Outlaw Anthems, 2002


I really can't take these fucking reality shows anymore. I could honestly say that I do not watch any - and I never have. Exclude the ones like No Reservations, Iron Chef, Most Evil... but maybe they count. But I am not talking about those types. Those are exploratory, curious, challenging and educational. I have been watching Iron Chef Japan since 2000. But, as I do now, I have always changed the channel before they announce the winner. I don't care about the announcement of the winner. In fact - and especially with ICA, I can barely sit through the pretentious spatterings of the arrogant judges *(except Bonecrusher…he was the man). I like to see how the meals are presented. And that show carries the air of friendly competition; for the sake of creating fun extravagant dishes that incite the audience's culinary yearnings.
Iron Chef brings out friendly competition, like a good sport. I see nothing wrong with that. It is healthy human nature. I can sit in the back yard and throw a ball or go to the park and shoot hoops for the fun of the game. That, however, does not however automatically make me give a toss about the MLB or NBA. And those are games I understand. But these fuckin reality shows are rash with petty sycophants and opportunistic leeches. There is nothing in them involving the growth of being pushed by a quality peer. These shows dangle a miniscule effigy of the proverbial carrot to extract and expose those ugliest, most savage aspects of these already hollow, disgusting creatures.
I would not want to watch these people decorate baby’s cribs in a cancer ward or give out food to the homeless in the midst of a bitter Minnesota snowstorm. I wouldn’t want to watch the 3 second flash of genuine generous intention they may get on there deathbed, never mind the lifetime (or 15 minutes we are privy to) of plotting and greed that exhale with every thought. I see a moment or two of these shows, and I am appalled. I wonder what kind of person could sit and tolerate the opening credits, never mind watch, absorb, discuss and actually enjoy this trash. Then, I hear people – people that I respect and like – talk about them.

"I tell you, man, i ain't no jiver - i never saw an episode of Survivor.
Is there any hope for me; in global, corporate society?"
- Smut Peddlers, "Playstation Generation", ISM

So, take that and look at top chef. Hey - established chefs, not world renowned to IC level, but respected in their field. These chefs are already established and proficient Executive Chefs, Sous-Chefs and Caterers. And as soon as you promise some fleeting moment of recognition in front of them, they are stabbing their santoku into the next chef’s back. I mean, at least, they get $100,000. Not that money can excuse these deplorable actions; but, that is a substantial amount that could be a down payment on a restaurant, which is difficult to produce. So, I understand that if can bloom competitive inclinations, but not the trite soap opera drama they spew.
However, most other reality shows are just highlighting people’s weaknesses. And the prizes are just airtime and an empty one-month relationship post-wrap. Like, what’s that Brett Micheals shit? Some over-the-hill rocker - who even in his prime was a horrible disgrace to rock and roll and metal – who now feels empty and lost, as he has never found true love. Awwww. So, some producers gather x amount of pole-dancing skanks to battle out to win his affection. I love that some of these women are in their 20’s. I am surprised that this douche is still relevant to people like me who can actually remember his putrid existence; never mind people born 15 years after his last album. And, of course, how do you get this germ farms to prove their ‘love’ to you? Well, via motorcross races and lingerie mud football, of course! Then, when he can’t decide, who won a single exercise, he dates three of them at once. The camera then intercuts shots of three vile beings slobbering over him; while the losers swim in rejection, wallowing off in a mansion. So, if this was the way to determine marriage material, I find it funny that once you whittled down these poets laureate to the finest single example of femininity and poise, that this prick needs to come back for three additional seasons. Three Seasons?!?! What a surprise? This scientific method somehow was flawed. Imagine.

While, I manage to evade most of this cultural pollution, some of this shit manages to pervade my protected ramparts. These shows, this culture of these shows, invade my attempt to watch television, my trip to the grocery store, my visit to the book store, and, of course, my attempts at vapid discourse with the humans in public. This ubiquitous trash is suffocating my hope for any intelligent triumph of our society.

"In this world of competition, the compassion is gone.
Yet, we ignore the needy and we keep pushing on."
- Bad Religion, "Punk Rock Song", The Gray Race, 1996


So, they take even a good thing – like Top Chef or even Survivor, they infect it. Survivor – because it was one of the first, I will hone in on here. They take a good concept of gather some city folk, mix them with strangers, and isolate them on an uninhabited island. Ok, here is a chance to promote trust, cooperation, teamwork, resourcefulness, intuition, discipline, and unity. But, of course, since hideous, selfish people want to “win” or be noticed on television – they absolutely rape the essence of it and conspire, connive, cheat, plot and gossip until this is an amalgamation of people’s worst traits. It then drives them to portray the most repulsive sides of our society.
There are also shows based on business (The Trump/Apprentice thing), music (Puffy one/Am Idol), dance (bunch), sports, etc. Something for each interest; beckoning all who profess an aptitude in said niche. While not something I would care to watch or participate in; still, as a foundation, yet another chance to produce something positive. All the aforementioned niches are industries usually rife with networking. So, if someone does not have a “my dad golfs with a guy who’s wife’s cousin is a…”, this can be an appropriate venue. And people want to waste their weeknight staying in the house melting their brain cells, cool. As I said, I like the Iron Chef. So I get it in a way.
However, this altruistic, benevolent pith revolving around healthy competition disintegrates instantly when handled by gluttonous producers and attention starved 15 minute seekers. These ‘contestants’ resort to the basest of instincts and egos to pursue menial goals and monetary prizes. I guess American Idol prizing a record deal is substantial, but otherwise they often fight for simple petty screen time. The abhorrent barrage of shows that have come to molest the airwaves after some found success is overwhelming. In the truest sense, it is overwhelming. There is too much. And I feel a breakdown coming on.
I could go on about the disgusting dregs that compose these terrible shows, but I am more concerned with the effects it has on our society (“won’t someone please think of the children?”). I will assume that people are aware of this mess – but I am taking about the ones on MTV (which I have never ‘seen’), VH1, and even, yes, Bravo. All the Kardashian/Paris/Girls Next Door/TopModel/Flavor/Rock of Love, etc. And then what really makes me vomit is that these no-talent vile creatures lose on one show, but happen to stir enough chaos, that they then get their own show. And the rejects of those shows get shows. Then, they create a show of select people from various shows to become one more contest of a show. The deluge of absolute shit landing on and fertilizing the minds of our youth is disturbing.
I fret fervently figuring the future being established from these spiritually caustic shows. I can see the priorities being instilled in our relatives as these shows’ lessons permeate in our friends’ and children’s brains. The sediment from these exhibitions of human desperation fermenting in our youths’ brains frightens the fuck out of me. I fear that too watch these shows – over and over – has to have an effect. I hear my peers ignorantly dismiss the viewings as ‘fun’. They think that the indulgent trips into the idiotbox that they can comeback unscathed. I disagree.
I think that the din of these people arguing and bragging and nagging and spouting their spite has to leave an imprint. Then, our children put these aspirations as personality traits. They will believe that attention, fashion, winning, destroying, fighting, and money are the most valuable aspects of life. They will adopt the notion of degrading yourself and putting yourself in harm’s way, and that lying, cheating, stealing, deceiving, conspiring are necessary actions to getting the fame and money needed to be important in life. These shows lead one to believe that getting heard or getting noticed is what counts in life. Basically, we will believe that the paramount destination of this existence is on the HDTV posted on our walls.

“Reality TV be reality for who?!??”
- Jean Grae on Wyclef Jean’s “Next Generation”

As opposed to our parents’ peers who watched soap operas to escape into the lifestyles of the rich and famous, this generation are watching “real” people. The first abomination of this concept is the setting. The generation watching these shows concocts unrealistic goals of where we should live; what kind of ‘crib’ we should be chillin in. size of These mansions, the towns, are plastered with nothing that resembles art – yet, cost millions of dollars. Gold framed mirrors hang in the bedroom to show us all the flaws that we project to the world. So then, we have to buy all these name brand facial creams and moisturizers. We have to pummel our flesh with the latest chemical concoction just to look 20. Because then at 30, we should be consulting the top plastic surgeon in our area. The bookshelves are littered with the latest fad diet book an US Weeklys. We have to rummage through our apartment of a closet to take out the newest clothes of exuberantly priced gaudy, over-decorated crap. I won’t even start on the fucking cars.

Again, to compare to the prior generation’s soap operas, at least those shows were ‘created’. And they understood as such. We watch these ridiculous abstractions of financial Faxanadus and imagine them as realistically attainable. We make ‘celebrities’ out of people that do not deserve to be known. We take these Frankensteins; adorned with garish jewelry and adored by no-esteem pathetic peons, and make them think that they actually matter. The cyclical masturbatory celebration of the newest reject of one of these shows, spawns a thousand wannabes. So, then they each jump up to get noticed. Ten of them do garnish an unwarranted 15 seconds on TV; and then, my friend’s kid mimics his asinine actions. And everyone is so entrenched in all of this raucous filth; that we think this behavior is standard. And no one bats an eye. No one pauses for a second thought. And no slap in the face could ameliorate this quagmire. We stomp through the laugh track in a zombie daze in this cultural void.

I could go on forever. And I would repeat myself on some ideas and elaborate on angles of this I only graze upon here. I guess my point is that harmless fun can be had. If you are staunch in your constitution, delve into whatever human stained episodes you like. But please be aware of what message it sends; to people that produced it (“MORE, Please!!!”) to kid next to you on the couch (“That was cool!”). Turn off your fucking TV. Tell them we want better. We demand better.


“Beauty is the god of our times and celebrity is our most noble virtue, the opiate that keeps the zombies blind and in line and hypnotized in worship of the pantheon of sex and shine. but now I've seen the light... It's time to light the fuse. Violence is better than the CULT OF SILENCE in which the open-eyed hide. into the abyss... I refuse to suck at the tit of distraction, and I refuse to worship the human face.”

- Ramallah. “Kill A Celebrity”, Kill A Celebrity, 2005