Dear TV, I Don’t Care About Your ‘Reality’

I guess I am increasingly in the minority these days, but television entertainment has taken a turn for the worse. Don’t get me wrong, there are some fantastic shows, many of which are written on a higher level than TV has enjoyed since the days of Playhouse 90 and other serious early drama offerings. But on the other hand TV has made Newton Minnow all too prescient.

My point is, of course, that there is nothing worse than the so-called “reality TV” show. These things are indicative of almost all that is bad in American society. Sloth, arrogance, ignorance–willful ignorance, even–outright stupidity, lack of restraint, lack of decorum, lack of civility, hate… did I mention gutter-level stupidity… in fact, aside from murder, there seemingly isn’t anything bad about America these TV series don’t showcase for viewers. So, for my rant today, let me just say…

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Dear TV, I hate your search-for-love series and hope everyone in them dies alone, driven mad by the emptiness in their lives. I hope your fat children die of heart disease before they are 20. I hope your hip hop-loving Bee-atches are killed by the one-night-stands they indulge on a nightly basis. I not only want you “fired” I want you drawn and quartered. I hope your apartment hunting finds you in a condo that burns down while you sleep. I hope your bug-eating, island-living, game shows find you catching some deadly foreign disease from which you don’t survive. I hope your cool eats place explodes in a freak gas accident that takes you with it. I want some wild boar to turn you into its dinner. I hope your chefs cook you a dinner that gives you deadly ptomaine poisoning. I hope your home rehab finds leaded paint and asbestos fibers that send you to the morgue. I hope your sex-tape-making family murders each other in fits of jealousy. I hope your duck calls get stuck in your throat and you choke to death. I hope you swap wives with a serial killer and she slays your whole family. I hope you go from your corporate HQ and into one of your own shops to find a disgruntled employee with a gun and a lot of bullets. I hope some errant motorcycle gang invades your restructuring of your bar series and robs you, beats you, and leaves you for dead. In short if you are calling what you are filming a “reality” show, I just want you dead. You don’t deserve life in America. Shut up, you jackass. I have no interest in your empty lives, I don’t care about your petty feuds, I couldn’t care less about your opinions, I’ve got no sympathy for your personal travails, and what’s more no one should. You are unimportant. Just die in great pain. Do it now. OK, wild-eyed rant over and have a nice Sunday.