Allot of reality television makes the rounds through our household, no thanks to my protests, and I find myself watching allot of nobodies become somebodies simply by doing what they were doing when they were nobodies.
It disturbs me on some level that I can’t even begin to fathom why we turn on the television and watch exactly the kind of behavior that we despise and love every second of it.
What is good television now-a-days? Is it well developed plot, a character that we can relate to on some basic level, or a well turned phrase or quip to set the scene in such a way that it delights and entertains?
The answer to this, of course, is no. Good television is watching a musician try to cash in on his royalties while finding “love” (and by love, I mean a woman. And by woman, I mean a set of tits. And by a set of tits, I mean get laid.)
Good television is watching a spoiled rich 16-year-old girl cry because a car she got for her birthday isn’t the right color, or model, or make, or doesn’t have an MP3 player in it.
Good television is watching people piss in the sink, put their room-mates food down their panties, and poke holes in an ice cream cake box so that it leaks all over the counter.
Good television is watching shows that, 10 years ago, probably would have failed in an epic way.