I don't know about you, but reality television shows seem to lose their novelty after one or two seasons.
Or one or two episodes if you've ever seen Jersey Shore.
Survivor, for example, was first described to me as Gilligan's Island meets Lord of the Flies. So imagine my surprise when I sat down with my bucket of popcorn and giant #1 foam finger and didn't see any of the carnage I was expecting. Basically, I watched The Real World in a jungle.
I think a change in the show's dynamics are past due. Here are a few suggestions to make the show more interesting:
1. Introduce a flesh eating virus to the cast.
2. Drop the cast off in the middle of Detroit.
3. Cast a zombie in the show without telling any of the others.
4. Give a fork and knife to the winner of contests instead of a hamburger and a thirty second head start to the losers.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Culture: Use Only When Convenient
I love people who have great-grandparents from Ireland and pretend that they're actually Irish.
Of course, when I say "love" I secretly mean these people are morons.
And now it's not a secret.
I've known a lot of these people. These are people who have been raised in America in an American culture with American parents and know nothing about world politics, but as soon as someone mentions a tiny European country that their great-great-grandmother's uncle's mistress was from they stand up and proudly say, "Hey! I'm a Mesopotamian!" Then an obscure holiday will be observed in America that honors that culture with excessive drinking while everyone from the country in question will be trying to figure out why Americans celebrate the day that grasshoppers were driven out of old-man->^><^>>'s grass hut.
I've always wondered that if you go to another country you would find that no one there celebrates their own culture because they like pretending they're from somewhere else, too. Eventually, we're bound to find a culture that pretends they're American.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time we embraced our culture. (Patriotic music playing) It's time we roll out our silver trailers and leave our hot rollers in our hair while we shop for sweaters for our cat-sized dogs. It's time we declare beer a fifth food group and legalize sex with family members. It's time to wake up and smell the Sunny Delight. It's time for us to move to Apache Junction.
Of course, when I say "love" I secretly mean these people are morons.
And now it's not a secret.
I've known a lot of these people. These are people who have been raised in America in an American culture with American parents and know nothing about world politics, but as soon as someone mentions a tiny European country that their great-great-grandmother's uncle's mistress was from they stand up and proudly say, "Hey! I'm a Mesopotamian!" Then an obscure holiday will be observed in America that honors that culture with excessive drinking while everyone from the country in question will be trying to figure out why Americans celebrate the day that grasshoppers were driven out of old-man->^><^>>'s grass hut.
I've always wondered that if you go to another country you would find that no one there celebrates their own culture because they like pretending they're from somewhere else, too. Eventually, we're bound to find a culture that pretends they're American.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time we embraced our culture. (Patriotic music playing) It's time we roll out our silver trailers and leave our hot rollers in our hair while we shop for sweaters for our cat-sized dogs. It's time we declare beer a fifth food group and legalize sex with family members. It's time to wake up and smell the Sunny Delight. It's time for us to move to Apache Junction.
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