Only on The Real (eyeroll*) Housewives of Whatever

Are those pants made out of FUR?! Seriously? Wtf.

How reality TV ruined television

It's just a theory, but roll with me here for a second.

Waaaay back in 1992, when I was just 10 years old, a little show called The Real World made its debut on MTV. The premise was simple: seven strangers picked to live in a house and have their lives taped. (To find out what happens when people stop being polite.....and start getting REAL!) It was the very first TV show with a documentary-style theme that didn't center around anything specific. It wasn't a show about the animal kingdom or an investigative report on the Nixon era; it was just a show about some people living in New York. In a way, The Real World was reality TV's version of Seinfeld--a show about nothing. And people LOVED IT. In fact, people loved TRW so much that 17 years later, its basic premise still exists. (And by "basic premise," I mean only that 7 people are chosen to live together.)

The first RW season I watched with any interest was San Francisco. In 1994, the RW producers put together in one house a Cuban gay man with AIDS, a 3rd-year medical student from Harvard, a classless punk named Puck, a staunch republican, a comedian, a white chick named Cory, a black musician named Mohammad, and (after Puck left) a CRAZY British woman named Jo. All the makings for fabulous reality TV, right? You just read all that and thought to yourself, "Man, if that show was on NBC today, it would be the a #1 hit." Well back in the '90's, the creators of TRW weren't interested in killer ratings and book deals. There were interested in controversial, REAL TV. And that's exactly what they gave us: a bunch of different people living together and dealing with every day life.

If you ever get a chance to watch old episodes of the San Francisco season, you'll notice right away how "real" it was. Bathroom doors closed, there were no cameras set up in bedrooms, conflicts were not scripted. Pam was a medical student and went to work every day. Pedro was campaigning for gay rights and speaking out about AIDS. Cory actually went out and (gasp!) looked for a job because MTV didn't pay her. And Puck... well, we'll get to Puck in a minute. But the point is that back then, it was real. You can tell that the only involvement the producers had was filming what went on in the house. They didn't stage conflict, they didn't pay the cast or set a curfew so they would spend more time in the house being filmed, and they didn't hand out trips or concert tickets so they would have something new to film. They just turned the camera on and let life happen. Sure it wasn't as interesting as hot tub sex, but it was real.

As for Puck.... well I think Puck was truly the catalyst, the one who started it all. You know it was Puck's booger-picking and self-absorbed, ignorant opinions that made the producers go, "I wonder what this guy will do next... wait, we can use that as a marketing ploy! And if it works, we can do the same thing again next season with an equally crazy cast! Can you imagine the ratings?!" A few years later, roommates were bitchslapping each other and having sex while the cameras rolled. And voila, reality TV as we know it today was born. (Thanks, Puck!)

Today, "reality" TV isn't just passive filming, it's not based on the idea of "sit back and watch what happens." Today, reality is centered on manufactured ideas and ridiculous, fucked-up shit that makes people go, "Oh now THAT I have to see!" Take American Idol for instance: hundreds of people who can't sing or dance making fools out of themselves on national television, and whoever "wins" is deemed the next big pop star. This idea is now so interesting that it holds the #1 time slot every week TWICE a week. And when you're not laughing at someone having their voice compared to a pig on crack, you can watch wives being traded. Or someone's mom choose their spouse. Or idiots in shopping carts falling off a roof. Because somehow, THAT has become interesting. And I think the result of such fuckery is that people have come to expect too much from regular, scripted TV. No longer is a show about lawyers in Boston interesting, unless those lawyers are also rogue assassins out to make sure justice is done. A medical drama must now include sex with ghosts or drug-addicted doctors with a God-complex to be deemed worthy of the 9 o'clock spot. People want controversy, they want to be awed, they want to see dads kicking in each other in the nuts. Consequently, little people dressing up as teddy bears and eating out of honey pots is now considered entertainment.

Somewhere in Hollywood, Lucille Ball is turning over in her grave. And I don't blame her.

Random things that have nothing to do with each other

Happy Friday everyone! As always, I hope you're avoiding your responsibilities and leaving work early today. And for those of you in the En-why-cee, you may actually have a legit excuse to do so today: it is snowing like whoa out there! We're getting our first real snowstorm and I'm loving it. That is, until I have to step outside in it. My friends and I have plans to go to dinner and a show tonight so I'm hoping this doesn't turn into a blizzard.

As I like to do on every 5th day of the workweek, I've compiled a list of random things for your Friday enjoyment.

Someone needs to feed Kelly Rippa. Contrary to popular belief among 20-year olds and everyone in Hollywood, there is such a thing as being too thin. And Kelly Ripa proves my point. She needs to eat a bacon cheeseburger like, yesterday.

Michelle Duggar popped out her 37th kid. The couple with 17 kids welcomed their 18th yesterday in Arkansas. Her husband Jim Bob was quoted as saying, "We would love to have more." Upon hearing that statement, Michelle's vagina got up and walked out of the room. It was later found smoking a bowl while booking a one way ticket to the Cayman Islands.

Fringe wasn't that great; try Burn "Notice" instead. The other day I talked about how J.J. Abrams' new show "Fringe" looked promising. Well after watching a second episode I decided it wasn't for me. That wacky science stuff is just too unbelievable for me to take seriously. It's why I never watched X-Files. I did, however, start watching another show on Hulu that lives up to the hype. I've watched 4 episodes of "Burn Notice," and so far, it's pretty excellent. It centers around a ex-government spy who has essentially been kicked out of the spy club. His assets are frozen, his contacts have vanished and he's left to fend for himself in Miami. Ie: he's been burned. So he uses his spy skills to solve random cases for cash while he finds out who in the government did him dirty. What I love about the show is that it doesn't try at all to be like 24. It's more like MacGyver, but way funnier.

Jeremy Piven is lie-telling. At least I think so. According to his doctors, Ari Gold has mercury poisoning and will not be able to continue his performance in a Broadway show called "Speed-the-plow." Mercury poisoning, hmm? Methinks the Pivert wanted out of the show and had to find a legit reason. And he came up with, "I ate too much sushi." Yeah, I bet you did.

I fell down the stairs this morning and hurt my assbone. Again. I'm pretty much a legend in my family for being the most clumsy person ever. Not a holiday goes by that I don't spill the wine or drop the eggs or burn the potatoes or, on one awesome occasion, almost set the tree on fire. So really, you shouldn't be surprised by this latest occurrence. I'll probably fall in the snow later today or drop my drink into someone's chicken. But hey, at least the steps were carpeted this time.