Archive for November, 2007

Okay, so I’m flipping through the channels, and I stumble across this MTV “reality” show called “Tila Tequila.”  Turns out this game show is yet another spin off of Survivor, wherein a panel of eight or so prospects compete for the privilege of doinking “being with” this mildly attractive little mouse of an ethnically-ambiguous asian chick.   Oh wait, she’s Vietnamese.  Anyhoo.

As we join our brave heroine, she is sprawled out on a massage table and the show’s, uh, “contestants” are each taking turns feeling her up under the guise of a massage.  Naturally I’m intrigued, so I watch a bit.

There’s a couple of lipstick lesbians, one androgynous thing that looks like a guy but sound a girls, the obligatory EMO or two, the rugged farm boy, the jock, the asshole Italian, etc.

After about the third or fourth playa climbs aboard and works her over, I simply MUST change the channel.  I mean, heck, if she was even halfway good looking, and didn’t have that screechy irritating voice.  Yeearf.

Over the course of the next few days I trip over it several other times.  Usually the busty blond carpet muncher is all in tears over the possibility that she might not measure up and get voted off the island, because she’s just so, so in LOVE, you know?

So, I guess the whole premise of the show is that this one girl, who apparently spends all her time prancing around in bandeau bikinis of various shapes, colors and sizes, sits on her throne and judges who is to be found worthy of her goody package.  The suitors must compete to spend “quality time” with her, and there’s all the tension that such a co-dependent, zero-defects, one-strike and your out mentality can bring.

In high school, we had a name for a princess like her.  Several, actually.  Slut, c–ktease, whatever.  She played the boys against each other, imposed wildly ridiculous, whimsical, and often petty little requirements to force the guys to “prove” their worthiness.  Oh, wait, don’t forget skank.  Trollop.  Whatever.

This show offends me on so many levels.  It’s clearly as scripted and pre-determined as most of the other of its ilk, so believing for one second in all the tension and angst takes some serious suspension of disbelief.

So she doles out these keys and tokens and whatever to determine who has a chance for “love.”  This is love?  This is what it’s been reduced to?  Eight or ten people fighting with each other to prove who “loves” her the most, all while she grins coyly and plays with their emotions for our entertainment? 

I think that’s the fundamental flaw in the premise of this show- why would you WANT to love someone who has just made you compete with a gaggle of others to see if you measure up to her imperious standards?  Why would you want a women who is so cold, cavalier, capricious and, well, kind nasty lookin’?  And they get all emo at the thought that they might lose their chance at love…with THAT?!   Guys, gals, clue in.  She’s no great catch!

This is without a doubt one of the worst/stupidest shows ever conceived of or broadcast, and to me it shows with utter clarity how morally destitute we are becoming as a country, and how utterly vapid and useless MTV continues to be as any form of meaningful entertainment.

Faugh.