Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
FOX has been trying to “revolutionize” the reality television market as of late with such hits as Hell’s Kitchen, The Swan, Wife Swap (wait, was that on ABC? I forget), and a plethora of other crass, tasteless televisual brainkillers.
I’ll be honest though. I find Hell’s Kitchen to be kind of decent. I mean sure the main chef needs to get on some kind of medication for his anger management problems, lest he suffer a stroke or an aneurysm (high blood pressure must already be in his system — have you seen the crinkled lines of fury engraved on his forehead?) But unlike most reality shows, it’s a show where people are coming from different backgrounds and trying to accomplish something — something — using skills and obeying orders. Hell’s Kitchen actually had a semblance to reality.
Now. Tonight saw the premiere of the god-awful Princes of Malibu. And once again, I’ll be honest. I was watching because the promos that played during The Simpsons were showing Brody (is that the main son’s name?) flashing lots of skin. I like skin. But, the premise of this show makes me drive a railroad spike through the person who decided, “Hey! Kids want to see other spoiled kids do mundane things! And it’s okay if we glamorize the spoiled kids because they look hot.” The first episode consisted of them trying to break down their living expenses and when pressed by Daddy Moneybags to start up a business, they had bikini-clad sluts — or I guess, their “friends” (right, no roofies here…) — washing the cars of total strangers. The only remotely redeeming factor of the episode was the face time one pissed off Chaka Khan registered. Oh how I love divas.
It’s amazing how idiotic these creatures are and how insulated from reality they are. I would’ve loved to see their dad — if he was really interested in forcing them to take responsibility for their spoiled asses — cut them off and drop them off in like a middle class part of town and not allow them to trade on his name for job potentials. Oh yes, the apartment would have to be empty. I’d love to see them navigate their way through little burgs like Chinatown or a flea market.