OMG! I actually got some responses to my ‘blogger of the week’ contest whereby I begged y’all to send me your rants and raves so I could post them and have five minutes off to file my bunions and read The Globe. Thank you, dear (bitter) readers! I’m going to run several of them, starting with this one—Stephen Whitley’s well-thought-out analysis of why MTV has some serious heck to pay. Enjoy it while getting mentally ready for my ‘write my column and pay my rent’ contest.
Puck, at his worst
Oh Lord, not again. It seems The Real World, MTV’s arguably biggest contribution to popular culture (they pretty much invented the reality show format) is gearing up for another season with a cast living in Brooklyn, of all places (I think they should go next to Wasilla, AK, Sarah Palin‘s hometown, where a bunch meth labs were busted in the last year…”The Real World…Tweaker”, now I’d watch that…one girl has to resort to prostitution to pay for her meth, for their business venture the house builds a mobile meth lab in the back of the Land Rover, their teeth all fall out and they don’t care) Must we be subjected to yet another season of hypersensitive drama and hair gel? I mean seriously, what more could there actually be left to explore when you’ve thrown these sad sacks together? There is the obligatory Christian who either proselytizes throughout the show or decides to become a slut. There is a variation of the Angry Ethnic who takes every comment the wrong way. There’s the slutty tanned sorority girl who either goes into rehab or has a burning bush experience at the end of the show and decides to get sober and reclaim her virginity before going back to Topeka (and I’m not talking about dropping a cigarette in her lap driving down the highway sort of burning bush experience).
I long for the days of the original Real World from 1992. Becky, Andre, Eric, Heather, Julie, Norman and Kevin who were more concerned about where their own lives were going rather than they were about manufactured drama about a racist t-shirt. The girls on this show were not the two-a-penny tarts we see today who screw whatever is moving and tongue kiss ad infinitum. They actually went on dates, albeit not always successful. And the guys, lovely, gorgeous things who always left you wondering on which side their bread was buttered…and actually caring to know…
I blame it on Puck in 1994. After they had Puck on the show (and when they kicked that Black guy out of the house for being “scary”) the show became a parody of itself. It’s time to put us all out of our misery and cancel this.