Sweet juju, I have only just caught up on ANTM and now I'm working on Survivor (Translation: I will hunt down and leave flaming poo on the comment doorstep of anyone who tries to spoil it for me). How I love my PVR.
Without my PVR, I would never be able to erode my brain at the current rate and any changes in the accelerated process decreases my odds at having a pretty corpse. People need to think about these things.
Anyhow: the PVR was best decision I made while pregnant - I knew where life was headed and my precious idiot box needed some upgrades to protect itself from gathering a thick layer of dust.
Speaking of idiot box - reality TV is one of my favorite forms of brain candy. My favorite reality gem was the fake reality show Joe Schmo - especially the second cycle. I really hope they do that again.
For those who didn't watch it, basically there is only one contestant who thinks all the other contestants are actually contestants but in reality they are actors pretending to be contestants. Then the producers see how far they can push the envelope before, I dunno, the one and only real contestant's head explodes.
That show was absolute perfection in the reality realm of things. Save for that awkward and emotional breakdown by the first contestant as he figured out what was going on - all that captured on camera and broadcast for the world to see. Yes, that was a hard episode to watch. But watching him keep his hand on the porn star the longest in order to win immunity - now that was fun.
I guess you could say the show is like a light and playful application of the brainwashing techniques where what one believes is true, isn't and allows captors to screw their mind up big time. Seriously, if that happened to me I'd be questioning everything for years afterwards. I'd probably be looking for cameras in the flowers and microphones in the sugar bowl every ten minutes. Can't tell me that stuff wouldn't screw with your head.
So I guess you could say that inflicting a post traumatic stress disorder on contestants is a definite sign of a great reality show. Fear Factor was for wimps - those contestants knew they were going to be scarred by something but to have it done with your guard down - now that's entertainment.
You know I came to write a post about how I decided to kick back and catch up on some tv instead of doing anything blog related, but here I am, babbling about defunct non-reality reality shows. What is with that? Oh internetz, why can't I quit you?
Actually, I do have a lot to talk about but just haven't been able to spit out a coherent post that doesn't sound like a rant. OK, more of a rant than usual.
Seriously - my head space is just not in the right flying zone for posts. A bit disconcerting but I'll sort it out soon.
Right? Please figure that one out, Scoobie and the Gang - you're my only hope.