Unreality Shows
Alrighty, we all know that reality shows aren't real. Or wait, maybe we don't. My illustrious partner and I were on a reality show, looking at houses and such, and on occasion, the episode repeats. First of all, yikes. It's one thing to sign on to a silly show that you've never seen because it seems like a funny little joke that will pay a cool 500 bucks. It's quite another to find out that the cable network will play your inside joke more than once.
Anyhoo, the short story arising from our 22 minutes of fame is as follows: every 8 weeks or so, we get random emails from the long-lost. They say nice things, like, "you look good" and "nice house" and "what a nice couple." Those are really sweet messages to receive out of the blue. But, then they continue: "wow, you picked the right house!" Or, "I was so nervous you would get the weird house." Or, "how do you like LA?" And while all these things may seem like nothing, and really are nothing, my point is that none of that was real. Spoilers, here. We signed a contract for the show about three weeks after we signed the contract for the house. We didn't look at any of the houses on the show until we'd moved in to our little dream home. Finally, we filmed the last segment just days before we moved out of the country. We actually had to hide boxes from the camera.
And here is where I'm going with this. Over the holiday weekend, we stayed in a hotel and were exposed to all sorts of horrible television. We watched a show called Elimidate, on which the guy chosen to choose his next girlfriend asked all his options to wear a Mexican wrestler mask. As he elimidated each girl, he got to see the girl he missed. Likewise, when he made his final selection, she removed her mask. At that point, the hunky stag sat dumbfounded, gob-smacked, silent. He looked at the girl, whose personality had won the evening, shook his head, and walked away in silence. That was the end of Elimidate. What a horrible show.
Ouch, my partner and I said, huddled under the sheets at the Tropical Caliente something or other resort. That poor girl. But then it occurred to me: people don't act like that in real life. People aren't really that mean. Boys are usually only ruthless in packs, but not that rude. Girls may be loud or caddy, but they won't be scathing. That is, unless they are performing for the reality camera, or until they start to emulate the reality shows.
So, how about a nice reality show? A show that demonstrates how nicely your mother raised you. Because, really, most of our mothers tried their best, taught us to be nice, disciplined us for neglecting their teachings, and congratulating our success. I want a new reality show. I want something that shows good deeds and caring. I want something that isn't about idiots looking for dates or houses or fame or money. I want something that shows people as they generally are-- pretty decent.
Anyhoo, the short story arising from our 22 minutes of fame is as follows: every 8 weeks or so, we get random emails from the long-lost. They say nice things, like, "you look good" and "nice house" and "what a nice couple." Those are really sweet messages to receive out of the blue. But, then they continue: "wow, you picked the right house!" Or, "I was so nervous you would get the weird house." Or, "how do you like LA?" And while all these things may seem like nothing, and really are nothing, my point is that none of that was real. Spoilers, here. We signed a contract for the show about three weeks after we signed the contract for the house. We didn't look at any of the houses on the show until we'd moved in to our little dream home. Finally, we filmed the last segment just days before we moved out of the country. We actually had to hide boxes from the camera.
And here is where I'm going with this. Over the holiday weekend, we stayed in a hotel and were exposed to all sorts of horrible television. We watched a show called Elimidate, on which the guy chosen to choose his next girlfriend asked all his options to wear a Mexican wrestler mask. As he elimidated each girl, he got to see the girl he missed. Likewise, when he made his final selection, she removed her mask. At that point, the hunky stag sat dumbfounded, gob-smacked, silent. He looked at the girl, whose personality had won the evening, shook his head, and walked away in silence. That was the end of Elimidate. What a horrible show.
Ouch, my partner and I said, huddled under the sheets at the Tropical Caliente something or other resort. That poor girl. But then it occurred to me: people don't act like that in real life. People aren't really that mean. Boys are usually only ruthless in packs, but not that rude. Girls may be loud or caddy, but they won't be scathing. That is, unless they are performing for the reality camera, or until they start to emulate the reality shows.
So, how about a nice reality show? A show that demonstrates how nicely your mother raised you. Because, really, most of our mothers tried their best, taught us to be nice, disciplined us for neglecting their teachings, and congratulating our success. I want a new reality show. I want something that shows good deeds and caring. I want something that isn't about idiots looking for dates or houses or fame or money. I want something that shows people as they generally are-- pretty decent.
posted by your friend at Wednesday, July 05, 2006
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