I do at least try to write a post every “blog” day. Most of the time they get deleted, I refuse to post based on quality of content, or I really just dislike what was written. If I complete a post I hated, it sits rotting away in the draft folder on this site. Not anymore, or so I’ve just decided. Now you can see the rejects and mock them or myself for posting them whenever I really just can’t sit and dedicate the time for a decently lengthed post. Today, a rejected post about reality television. Enjoy!
Once upon a time, I put up a novella length short story on the Kindle e-book store for $0.99. It’s worth a look and less expensive than most good candies these days. There is a link on the side of my page that says “Buy my works” that’ll lead you to my author page and to my first publication. Now that I’m done with my shameless self-promotion, to my post.
Once upon a time, reality shows only consisted of extreme competitions for an amount of money that didn’t seem worth it. (Survivor, anyone?) We’d watch it, the sadists that we are to see people suffer in extremely dire and staged situations that we knew were fake but still bit our nails anyways. I never watched them, but I recall at my former workplace a co-worker called me to remind me that Big Brother was on. This was a show she told me was fantastic, I tried to watch it I really did. I couldn’t make it without going crazy because they seemed to have picked the most annoying, cocky, and idiotic people who could and shoved them into a house for our enjoyment. We really just watched to see them fight and plot against each other. If I wanted to see that, I’d relive high school. You get the same emotions without the promise of a $10,000 prize. Soon followed shows like Bachelor/ette, and a downward spiral to evil began.
Then in this fairy tale of reality shows, something happens. The television rulers decided “hey, let’s come up with the weirdest things ever, and make a show of them”. They started small by giving people with multiple kids due to fertility treatments or religious beliefs a show. Then they gave little people shows. Then… then they decided to get weirder. Shows like My Strange Addiction, where a guy is in love with his car, or a show like Virgin Diaries were shown. They tossed in a polygamist and some Amish people which seemed a bit more normal than the previous set.
Eventually, things turned bad. Very bad. My eyes looked at the television in awe that there was an 80-year-old doing seductive yoga to try to seduce a man in his mid-20’s. Part of me wants to applaud her, the other part makes me wonder why they made a show over this. Then I see a commercial for an Amish mafia show. Ok television gods, I can handle the whiny and privileged housewives because they gave me NeNe Leakes and I enjoy The New Normal and her character on Glee. I even didn’t mind that you give a television show to a guy with a bad weave or one to extreme cheapskates/couponers. I draw the line at half-naked old women laying the moves on people my age and an Amish man “keying” a buggie.
I thought I had seen it all when a guy was making out and sexually caressing his car. I thought they couldn’t get worse than someone who loves pink so much that she dyed her adorable little Maltese pink. You should’ve stopped there, you really should’ve. I know you’re getting desperate for ideas, but I think there was a line you crossed long ago. They shouldn’t be called “reality tv” anymore. I recommend calling it the “preplanned bizarre hour”. I appreciate coming up with new ideas, I really do. But please, oh please, I can’t handle this anymore. On a side note, I will probably watch an episode of the Amish Mafia. If I can survive an episode of Honey BooBoo, I’m sure that’d be a more entertaining cake walk.