it's all about the benjamins.

[Note: I'm using an unfamiliar Mac for this post, and I can't figure out how to insert images. So no images for you for the time being. Me so solly.]

I love reality TV. I used to be embarrassed to admit this, but I've learned to cast away society's shame shawl and let the real me shine. I'm not afraid to say it anymore: I LOVE REALITY TV, YOU BASTARDS!

The Mister (a.k.a. Ian, a.k.a. the husband) is always trying to convince me that we should get cable, but I have steadfastly resisted because I know what will happen: I will leave the couch with even less frequency than I do presently, and that would be nearing about half of my waking hours. Just kidding. That's gross. It's only, like, 2/3.

Oh, wait. That's more.

Anyhoo. Whenever I visit people with cable (and with whom I feel comfortable enough to take over the remote control) I end up wallowing in Made (or something similarly awful/wonderful [which from hence forward shall be combined into one handy word, "awferful"]) marathons for hours on end. It's not pretty. I also discover the plethora of previously unknown, awferful shows that exist out there in cable land, and then usually end up calling my friend, the NCBLF, to tell her all about them and how she needs to watch them, too.

For example, right now I'm staying with the Parental Units (it's cool to make references to 1970s SNL, right?) in order to look for housing for the upcoming Big Move of 2007. When I'm not aimlessly driving around fantasizing about which particular craphole I'm going to live in shortly, I'm inevitably holed up in my parents' living room watching the shit out of some reality TV. (I've also been reading a fair deal, but that's not really very pertinent to this post.) Sometimes I think that I should get off my ass and, you know, actually do something with my day...but then I just rationalize it to myself: I'm here on vacation (kind of true), I've worked hard (not true at all), and I'm certainly not going to have cable in my own house (hopefully true)--so I'm going to watch as much damn Sunset Tan as I damn well please! Damn!

Speaking of Sunset Tan, have you seen this shit? When I saw it listed on the satellite guide thinggy I was like, "Oh heeeell no! They did not make a reality TV show about a tanning salon!" But, oh hell yes, they certainly did. I just couldn't believe that somebody would think such an
asinine concept would make for a good TV show...and then actually make it! For you see, even I recognize the ridiculousness that is this particular television genre.

And, actually, there are a number of reality TV shows that I have recently become acquainted with that I find not even awferful, but actually horrendously un-watchable (or, "horrendontchable"). These include Scott Baio is 45...And Single (just rolls of the tongue, eh?) and Hey, Paula, and possibly might expand to engulf Hogan Knows Best (pending ability-to-stomach-more-than-two-minutes-of-an-episode status). I watched at least 10 minutes of both Scott Baio's and Paula Abdul's shows, but they actually made me feel so depressed and uncomfortable that I had to change the channel to a more respectable and classy reality show like Top Chef.

Seeing how Mr. Baio has become a gross, stripper-ogling, beer-swilling, scraggly middle aged man just made me feel creepy for ever finding him oh-so-studly on Charles in Charge. Maybe he's been like this all along, trapped in the body of a hunky babysitter--but at least I wasn't in on the charade. And as for Mizz Abdul--she's a fucking nut, on some kind of medication that's just doing her wrong (contrary to any statements of denial she may make). I guess what made it impossible for me to enjoy these people's miserable/fabulous ("miserablous"?) lives was the fact that they were so oblivious to how fucking pathiculous (pathetic/ridiculous) they truly are. Well, maybe Scott has some idea...

The point is, give me a washed up celebrity with their own reality TV show like Kathy Griffin's Kathy Griffin: My Life On The D-List. That show is great, largely because she's actually funny, but also because her knowledge of her lacklusterness is the entire basis of the show--she doesn't just acknowledge it, she wallows in it and makes it pretty damn entertaining.

Granted, people's low levels of self-awareness is what makes most reality-based things great--documentaries, people-watching at the airport, television, interacting with people at work (this last one merely becomes tolerable, however, and never really quite makes it up to "great")...But, apparently, there is some line in the reality TV sand that has been trampled upon by certain past-their-prime, in-need-of-a-shave, suspcisiously-German-cyborgy-faced "celebrities." And now that they have trod upon it, my soul--like the souls of so many of my fellow Americans--will never be the same.

Or, you know, maybe I just need to watch a Hey, Paula marathon to get into the swing of things. Meh.

[Note: Okay, so no one really ever gets what my post titles are referring to (when they're actually referring to something, and not, you know, just whatever gibberish popped into my head right before I publish it), and I know that very few people would actually get the joke (a loosely applied term, to be sure) that I made up a long time ago and have now used as this particular post's title--and I normally wouldn't care. But! I really want people to get this one, for some reason...even if you won't think it's funny (which you won't), but just so somebody gets something that comes out of my mouth some of the time.

So, now we begin our brief sociological theory/joke explanation:

Walter Benjamin was this early 20th century dude who wrote and philosophized about all kinds of crap. One of his best known essays is called The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, which is basically about how with all this new fangled technology (e.g., film), the specialness, or aura, of original works of art becomes lost. One possible consequence of this reproducibility is that one might think, "Why do I need to go all the way to the Louvre when I can see this perfectly lovely reproduction of the Mona Lisa right here in Asshit, WI?" Or, you know, why bother to go to Europe at all when there are Venetian canals and the Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas? Clearly you can see how this sort of thinking is problematic, right? Right.

Now, moving on to part two of the explanation: As we all know, pimping ain't easy, and also, more importantly, it's all about the Benjamins. Truer words have truly never been spoken. Truly.

But, you say, what do these two seemingly unrelated things have to do with one another? Well, I'd like to say that it's all very clear--but really, like pretty much most of the things in my head that I find funny, the connection is tenuous and a bit hazy, born more out of juxtapositional absurdity than anything more tangible or high brow. But I'll try to make it seem like I only laugh at cultural theory-based witticisms...

Basically, the idea that "it's all about the Benjamins" is really shallow, greedy, selfish, and so on. But beyond the literal interpretation, I equate this statement with the larger, mainstream, blingbling, mass marketed hip hop culture that The Kids These Days seem to enjoy so much--a culture which is also shallow, greedy, and selfish. It is a culture which is also largely (if not entirely) predicated on the creation of images--both literal, visual images as well as the more intangible personae (aura, anyone?) of the musicians in the business. So, when I say (in my head, as I've only tried to explain this once to someone and they looked at me like I was crazy/soooo not funny) "it's all about the Benjamins," I'm really drawing a parallel between the false, empty, easily reproduced culture of mainstream hip hop and the theories of a Marxist cultural critic! It makes the head spin (with laughter), no?

(Okay, so the other thing that makes this funny [again, probably only to me] is that Walter Benjamin's surname is pronounced "ben-ya-meen"--or at least, that's how I learned to pronounce it in college, which is very likely entirely wrong. But whatevz. It's funny because it's pronounced differently! Don't you see!?)

Finally, to come full circle, by using this statement as the title of my post I'm making a connection between the artificialness, greed, etc. of reality TV and Benjamin's theory about the aura, yadda yadda yadda. And also Puff Daddy.

End note.]

Comments

[Mr. Sarah]

Very funny. Shaq's Big Challenge was awferful tonight, by the way, but I'd rather watch it with you.

[Kristina]

i forgot about ben-ya-meen and his aura issues. makes me long for college.