Sunday, February 13, 2005

TV: On the damages of Elimidate

There are really bad television shows. Somedays it seems like that's all there is. Or as Bruce Springsteen once sang, "57 channels and there's nothing on, 57 channels and there's nothing on . . ."

Want to see how bad things are? Watch Elimidate. If you've ever watched the show before, you're familiar with it. Five people. Four of one sex compete to be picked by someone of the other sex. (We're all really straight when it comes to trashy TV apparently.) The four competing are eliminated once by once hence: Elimidate. At the end of the "Elimidate," we're left with a couple on the verge of . . . humping.

There's nothing wrong with sex, not even on the first date or the first "elimidate." If it's for you, go for it.

But it's really sickening to watch four men or four women try to tear one another down to land the "prize." We say "prize" because have you looked at the ones doing the Elimidating?


Two weeks ago, some jock-wanna-be pipes off in the cafe about how "girls in Alabama are really slutty! Yee-haw, I'm going to go down there and pick me a few!"

That's the kind of "wisdom" Elimidate imparts to their audience when they "salute" a state.

Skanks and hos (of both gender) are overpopulated on these shows. We'd like to think that's because anyone with basic sense would never try to get on the show.

When lead skank is a woman, we've noticed that she eliminates the ones who look the least like male models quick. When it's a man as lead skank, he'll keep the woman with the bad hair, bug eyes and annoying voice on until the last round. That's not because he's more advanced, it's just that woman, for whatever reason, is always the one who's the most sexually outspoken.

Think of her as his "spare" in case he craps out with his dream date in the last round.

Last week, the lead skank was always a male and boy did the show hit the bottom of the dumpster.

This is Elimidate's idea of "high concept": We'll do the same show as always but we'll give the guy a limo date and we'll call it, hold on for this one, Elimo-date!

Yes, someone probably got big bucks for that "gem."

And where did they get these people? They've always seemed to avoid picking anyone with real brain power for the show but the four ladies each night fighting over the one man, and the men calling the shots, all seemed to have just fallen off the turnip truck.

"A limo!" each picker and contestant seemd to gasp breathlessly!

We're opposed to limos for a number of reasons. First of all, they're gas guzzlers who pollute. Second of all, in case someone missed it, we are at war. (Though some of the contestants probably think "Iraq" refers to a woman with huge breasts. "Idick." The perfect match on Elimidate.)

But even so, we couldn't get over these breathless men and women who seemed to think they'd entered the height of the social order by riding in a limo (or, hot-tubbing in one). That's the sort of thing one might foam at the mouth over during senior prom and these people were a long way off from their senior proms.

Of all the guys this week, we think our favorite was "professional basketball player" Billy. Twenty-eight-year-old Billy should have been paid for each time he worked "limo" into a sentence. Come on, ladies, kiss me, we're in a limo! Come on, ladies, we're in a limo, if you're not going to kiss me, kiss each other! I'm on a limo-date! Limo! Limo! Limo!

Every other sentence seemed to offer up limo. At twenty-eight, and being "a professional basketball player," Billy seemed a tad too old to be springing his first boner over a limo. But what was up with the women? Billy's not ugly, he's not even plain. But he's also not as gorgeous as some of the women tried to pretend he was. Underweight and with ears the size of Dumbo, Billy wasn't the catch of the day, even on a really bad day.

But he topped Michael, who bragged about having his eye brows waxed on Tuesday. You kind of felt sorry for Manny on Thursday because of the "aren't all male hair dressers gay" 'logic' that greeted his profesional revelation. (Seriously, the contestants on this show make the gang on Street Smart seem positively Einstein-ian.)

It didn't matter what the guys looked like (and let's be real honest here, there've been very few dreamboats on this show -- when a guy's the picker he's your well-scrubbed average Joe) because the women were apparently willing to do anything to be the "winner" and being the winner on that show means being the one chosen by the picker no matter how creepy he (or sometimes she) is. Of the women on this week, we liked Randi best (Wednesday). She didn't lower herself and stood her ground. (She apparently didn't think a limo was the entrance to heaven -- unless heaven's filled with stained sheets and you get stuck sleeping in the wet spot for eternity.)

But Randi, and there's always one Randi, is supposed to look like a prude (on every show) because she's not going to lip-lock with a total stranger who's i.q. is riding lower than the waist band of his pants.

And that's what we object to. Because this show does send a message of "hey, this is what we're like!" People go off to tell their friends about the "Alabama sluts" or whatever. Try to reason with them ("Look, there's no way every woman in Alabama is a slut statistically") and they'll tell you "This is reality TV! Reality. Get it!"

Because that's what we've come to in this stage of humanity. We want the "reality" we see on TV as opposed to the reality of our own lives. And we're starting to believe that the TV "reality" is more real than our own lives.

As we debase ourselves and lower ourselves to see our mirror images up on the tiny screen, every mood, incident, occurence must have a TV backdrop to really be "real." These shows peddle the most damaging lie: It's okay to be stupid because all we care about is sex.

No, that's not all we care about. And it would have been nice to hear one owman (out of twenty) make a comment about how a limo wasn't that impressive to her. She could have felt as we did or she could have been someone who was quite used to limos and, therefore, not impressed.
But the contestants have apparently bought into the big lie as well: it's not who you are, it's what other people will think you are. Make out in the hot tub in the back of the limo, on the street, in front of total strangers because, hey, we're on TV! And life doesn't mean anything, unless it's lived on TV.

We bailed on Friday's show (we also cancelled plans to attend a party) because of the death of Arthur Miller. Our mini-tribute was to gather together and read The Crucible aloud. As such, we missed what one friend assures us was mind boggling, a mini-revolt of some sort leading into the final round having to include a woman that was picked at random in a bar (or else there would have been only one contestant for the final round). We're sure that was earth shattering and would recommend that Elimidate encourage that in future episodes. Have the last two or three say, "You know what, we Elimidate you, you sex obsessed loser!" and then go through the bar picking their own choices.
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