pop & circumstance

s came into town for a couple of days and tonight, while we were multi-tasking with dinner prep and watching survivor, he launched into a shock and awe campaign about the audacity of reality television because he's just that intellectual. a sporadic tv-watcher, s was simultaneous aghast and amused by the scrapping, pixelated breasts, and testosterone-y grunting during the reward challenge, which he deemed "offensive". and he just loved that "the tribe has spoken" bit. there was less overt dismay toward the apprentice, though he declined my offer to change the channel.

all of this to say that while i appreciate the ridiculousness of so-called reality tv, i'm unapologetic for watching. i could go all feministy ape-shit about the screamingly stereotyped casting of siliconed ditzes, bossy butch dykes, or penis-envying power suits. it would be easy to get all up in arms about the dumbing down of tv and the deterioration of insightful programming. but i don't. why? thinking people who choose to consume rtv do so with a deep appreciation for irony. and it's not about a noble academic fascination with the disturbing clammor for quick money and 15 minutes of fame and all that. nor is it some kind of high brow examination of how rtv twistedly mirrors a society consumed with image and competition.

even if some rtv moments ARE offensive - someone's asinine behaviour or in the very airing of the shyte - soap boxing about it would put us smarty pantses too close for comfort to the likes of people like this who probably think of tipper as a martyr. so let's just call it a distraction from the real issues that permeate our paid and extra-curricular work. a break from the fatiguing battles we face in the real world.

whatever, i'm just fucking glad celena got the boot from american idol this week.


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