Welcome to the Real World

Imagine that you've spent the last five years in cultural exile, and you've never seen an episode of a reality TV series. Why, you would be... me. Until last week, that is, when I finally decided to immerse myself in the medium. Swan; Extreme Makeover: Home Edition; The Apprentice; The $25 Million Fraud; The Bachelor; and much more. If it was real, I watched it.

And I was, of course, appalled. And pretty bored. But also, intrigued: Are all these people out of their minds? Reality TV isn't real at all. (Razing her house is going to help a hay farmer out of hock? Gorgeous Maribel has to go on national TV--twice!--to find true love?) Plus, it's demeaning and stupid. So why is it clicking?

Maybe it's the same thing that worked for an episode of the old show "Queen for a Day," that I remember seeing as a kid. A woman in her 50s, widowed, was asking for a miniskirt and go-go boots, so that she could be sexy and meet men. It was pitiful, of course.

And it was amazing TV. Amazing in that, 30 years later, I remember what that woman looked like and the sound of her voice. There's power in pathos--emotional power, and commercial power. Television is cruel to exploit it, and we're boorish to enjoy it--but man, it sure gets to the heart of who we are real fast.

So, can I stop watching now? I have to go check out this Britney Spears person...