They Must Call It Big Brother Because You Want to Steal Its Dirty Mags and Then Punch It in the Spleen
I worked in reality television for four sordid years and never watched an episode of Big Brother (Dear God, I hope my former jefe isn’t reading this!). Instead, I studied the format on paper, religiously researched cast members and memorable conflicts, allowed myself to be fascinated by the number of cameras apparently mounted around the house, met frequently with the show’s multitude of producers, and believed–without ever seeing an act–that I understood Big Brother‘s point. The ultimate fish bowl, everyone called it. Pure genius, they described. A landmark achievement, one exec mused.
What a Crock Pot of shit all of that was. Seriously.
I finally saw my first episode of Big Brother last Sunday (Mind you, we’re now amidst an ungodly Season 11) during periodic glances away from a lively game of Blackberry Sudoku. I can’t exactly tell you what was going on, but I did understand that the group had been divided into “cliques”–Oh, you know, like “Brains” and “Athletes”… and, ehrm, “Offbeat” cliques. (Gosh, I feel embarrassed just typing those words on the page.)
Problem is, based on pure instinct, I instantly found myself rooting against every single person in the house. The offbeat freaks were all poseurs, the brainy nerds awkweird and creepy. And the jocks, as always, spent so much time kissing their dumb muscles that I began to simply hate life.
But I didn’t just hate them for their cliquey leanings. Flaky blonde chicks that have never had a real conversation with a dork sporting a crappy adult faux-hawk are people, too, and I get that. But honestly, I racked my brain for minutes–MINUTES!–and could not determine a reason for a self-respecting human to immerse themselves in the sick, sad, exhibitionist world of Brother, for days on end with a house full of fairly unattractive and dull nobodys.
Okay, one reason. How great would it be to eventually see oneself on the small screen, juxtaposed with brassy, sassy host Julie Chen in one of these saucy numbers?
But that can’t be enough of a reason, can it? Back to the real issue! WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE ARE THESE CAST MEMBERS?
Sigh. Apparently, people actually watch this dung heap. Check it out: moving right along, the douchebags in the house ultimately stirred up lots of trouble (and buzz!) after three of the castmates got into an awesomely lame argument that took a dark turn when Braden–a semi-ugly white dude with with decent abs and chicken legs–vented his frustration with Kevin–a blasian–by repeatedly calling him a “beaner” (1:16 of the video below)
Braden’s follow-up jab to the beaner tirade and resulting yellfest? “Hey, go back to Burbank.” (1:46)
[Stunned pause while blogger chokes herself]
Hunh. I guess that kind of people.
[via Reality Blurred]
Filed under: Awful Human Beings, Big Brother, Braden Drops the "Beaner" Bomb, Braden Kevin Fight, Cliques, Cultural Lows, Frocks, Julie Chen, Racial Slurs, Reality TV, Time I will Never Get Back, Worthless People
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