alternate reality
I have reached a point where I think television network executives may be playing a trick--a perpetual prank to see who's paying attention.
Did I really see an ad for “Deal or No Deal—Spring Break!” last night on television?
Did I see an ad for a show called “Farmer Wants a Wife” in which several city beauties come to the farm and vie for a farmer’s affections?
Is there really a television show called “Deion and Pilar Sanders: Prime Time Love”? Was there really a sequel to “I Love New York” and “Flavor of Love” and “Rock of Love”?
I am not, nor have I ever been, a fan of reality TV (maybe one of the reasons I don’t have cable). I thought it would fade away. It hasn’t. It’s probably more popular now than ever, or at least that’s how it seems--and everyone seems to like watching it but me. The writer’s strike gave these shows an opening, and they started multiplying like rabbits. Now, they are everywhere.
Thankfully, the writer’s strike is over. And 30 Rock last night was a brilliant episode making fun of reality TV. Ahhh…. I’m not alone.
Labels: reality TV
1 Comments:
If you don't stop making fun of reality TV, I'll never tell you about Phil Keoghan. Jerk.
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