Tuesday, February 23, 2010

talking trash

Since when did all it takes to become famous amount to being trashy, slutty and possess a feature of excessive size (eg, hair, tits or mouth)?

In my quest to become celebrity-savvy, I have discovered the underbelly of the rich and famous – the bottom-feeding “I want to be rich and famous”.

Fortunately in New Zealand we miss out on much of the televised trash that Americans love so much. Reality TV here consists of gung-ho kiwis sharing their experiences, occasionally a Survivor rip-off and low-budget talent quests. There is a vague element of reality.

Remnants of all that is real has been stripped from the American version and what we are left with is has-beens trying to return to relevance and wanna-bes desperately trying to get some.

What I find the most sickening is that these vapid, fame-whoring slappers and the hideous, retarded douches they chase after end up with the attention they so readily seek. Why are the Snookis and Jon Gosselins of the world cluttering my daily Perez intake? I know that reading the gossip blog is slightly trashy in itself, but why fill it with this societal garbage.

Do I care how often Octomom gets to the gym? Do I really need to know how Snooki gets her beehive so big? Do I ever want to see the scariness that is Flava Flav’s train-wreck-of-a-face in more than a 10 second ad between my regular programming?

Why are these people gaining notoriety for doing what normal people are scolded for?

Am I only encouraging the behaviour by mentioning them on such a high-brow outlet as my own blog?

Thinking about where it all began, I keep coming back to the Simple Life – it spring-boarded Paris and Nicole from socialite to celebrity status. These two actually have some talent, maybe one more than the other, and they moved on from their reality-show beginnings. Reality TV itself went pretty swiftly downhill from there – snowballing into the monster that it is today.

I guess the difference is I don’t mind watching trash about people who were already rich and famous before having a show. It’s like an extended version of E! But when TV becomes trash about trash I draw the line.

Do we really want to condone sluts scrapping it out to win some celebrity peen – only to be subjected to it for three more seasons? Do we need to know the secret lives of a couple who happens to have a shit-load of kids? And then hear about the bitch fight after the fame gets the better of the relationship?

My guess is no. But there they are. They’ve even made it to Debris.

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