By the time you read this, Scott Towler will be best friends with not one but two Corey’s. How many Corey’s are you friends with?

Reality sucks. This was my mantra, the one that I’d led my career by. I was wrong. Reality is king because there isn’t any scripted programming left. Well, at least admittedly scripted. So a decade after Survivor 1, as reality continues to crush the competition, I thought I’d profile a few of my favorites. And for the record, I wanted a Reality Bites poster for the top of this piece (ha, I said piece), but it came off as too emotional, so I thought, “What’s the opposite of emotional?” Clearly, the opposite of emotional is porn.

Are You Not Entertained?

Reality loves the contest format. Pair two people, reveal their inner most issues, then make them share a room and eat a snake for cash! CBS executives thought they’d turned water into wine after they created this winning formula. But much unlike the drivel they churn out weekly on The Amazing Racist and Survivorthis!, American Gladiators kicks ass. Sure Hulk Hogan has varicose veins popping out of every place he ever ‘roided, and sure 2/3 of the actual gladiators are wearing less then when I’m in the nude, and OK fine- one of the male gladiators is a former gay porn star- but isn’t that what makes reality great? No. No, most certainly not. Tune in though for hard hitting, ass kicking competition where men get to remember on a weekly basis that women are irrefutably the weaker sex.

Girls All Pause

The Girls Next Door is my one guilty pleasure. OK, these are all guilty pleasures. But this is the only one that actually gives me pleasure. Yes, that kind. The same kind one could produce from a Nintendo wii or a plate of spaghetti. Now I’ll admit, the three girls on this show are almost unbearable. There are virtually no plot lines (in reality, it’s just a party planning show…each week these women just find new ways to spend Hef’s money), and I can’t really find any of the characters redeemable (save for Hef’s lovable grandma-eqsue assistant), but can anyone hate me for loving T and A? Best part is- once you think they couldn’t cram more naked ladies down your throat (and is there ever such thing as too many?), they go to some Playboy sponsored event where there are poolfuls of semi-naked girls. And wouldn’t you know it, the show gives the impression that they’re all just like you and me! Fancy that! Real, normal- people. Ones with big boobs, degrees in astrophysics, and big boobs. Which, granted, I said already, but that’s the reason they make it, and that’s the reason I watch it.

Father Knows Blunt

E! also boasts Snoop mutha’fuckin Dogg on their channel, which in and of itself is awesome. His show, Snoop Dogg’s Father Hood (you see, fatherhood isn’t one word- it’s like he’s a dad, and he’s from the hood! You’ll love it!), contains overly scripted, unfunny moments galore. Occasionally, you’ll get a few minutes of Snoop doin’ his thang (as all the white Midwesterners who think they’re black say), and it’s actually quite captivating, save for all the overt racism. Like in this one episode where he confesses that he loves fried chicken from Roscoe’s….wait, that may come off as a little racist. Oooh, there’s this one where he talks about his Hennessey drinking uncle…damn it, even more racist! Me thinks maybe Uncle Tom made this show, put it in a time capsule, and sent it to the year 2008. And all I can say to that is, “Hazaa, Tommy boy, you really done and gone did it this time.”

OK, now that was gratuitous racism. All in all though, the show has its funny moments, and it does allow (only occasionally) a look into what Snoop’s life might actually be like. Maybe.

E! Entertainment: For the Casual Racist In All of Us

On the other end of ‘reality’ television is Rob & Big, a show that is as funny as it is truthful, as touching as it is edible. It seemed like a winning combo, a skinny white skateboarder and his best friend/bodyguard….who happens to be a 400 pound guy named Big Black. See, you gotta hand it to Rob Dyrdek. E! hid the racism in Snoop’s show, Dyrdek just calls a big black guy, Big Black. Yet oddly, I hear no whistle blowers, or mad moms screaming. Maybe that’s just the state of things today. Unlike the 90s with its precious parental advisory labels, kids today expect racism with a side of milk. Hell, not even on the side. They mix the milk with the racism. It’s cereal. And I’m being super cereal about it.

The truth is reality has little to offer. Most shows are identically formatted (at least the last three mentioned are), and barely stray from the block . Should you be forced to watch reality television, make sure your kids aren’t around, batten down the hatchets, take the biggest bong hit ever (cause the minutes will only creep by), and prepare for the long haul; it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008 at 12:43 am and is filed under Great Scott. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.