I admit that I get pretty annoyed whenever anyone badmouths Americans by suggesting we’re overly obsessed with celebrities. “That’s really offensive,” I tell them. “How dare you make generalizations about a whole culture based solely on the activities of a small minority, particularly while I’m trying to watch ‘Access Hollywood’?”
OK, so it might be true that most Americans have a better chance of correctly identifying all the men claiming to have fathered Anna Nicole Smith’s baby than, say, the number of countries we’re currently at war with.
But maybe that’s just because right now we’re a little busy, what with awards season and all. This is the one time of year when all the A-listers preen and grin their way down the red carpet as we fans watch, eagerly hoping that one of our favorite stars will finally snap and strangle Joan Rivers with her microphone cord.
Of course, in spite of the million-dollar paychecks, throngs of adoring fans and first class treatment everywhere they go, celebrities still complain about the downside of fame. I can certainly understand.
After all, I’m sure it can be a real drag when the paparazzi and other gawkers won’t give you a moment’s peace to do something as normal as enjoy a private meal at a restaurant, take in a little shopping at the mall or chat up a 6-foot-tall prostitute with a prominent Adam’s apple on Hollywood Boulevard at three in the morning.
Until recently, average Americans were generally denied access to the ranks of the famous just because the vast majority of us lack any discernable talent. Thankfully, this sort of blatant discrimination is being done away with.
With such modern inventions as reality television, YouTube and long-distance, jealousy-fueled, diaper-clad homicidal astronaut rage, today there is simply no excuse for failing to make a public spectacle of yourself.
This trend no doubt got its biggest boost from the show “Survivor,” which has been a reality show standard-bearer since its debut in 2000. “Survivor”’s producers still receive applications from hundreds of thousands of hopeful individuals who do not see the irony in competing for “immunity” on a bug-infested island where god only knows what kind of horribletropical diseases run wild.
While such programming remains a television staple, even reality fans acknowledge that the genre is running out of steam. It appears that Americans are finally growing weary of all the scheming, backstabbing, bickering and, hard as it may be to imagine, the sight of bikini-clad nubiles scarfing down handfuls of squirming millipedes.
Ratings are most likely declining because viewers have lost all sympathy for reality show contestants, most of whom are clearly willing to do anything to become famous. No matter what kind of humiliating and degrading “challenges” the producers come up with, those of us at home are inclined to yawn and say, “Hey, you knew what you were getting into when you signed up.”
Which is where my idea for spicing up the tired reality show format comes in. If the problem is that the public has grown bored with casts filled with out-of-work actors, bartenders and other narcissists desperate to get on camera, the obvious solution is to automatically disqualify anyone who even applies.
Instead, contestants should be selected at random from the ranks of the general population. As with jury duty, participation would be compulsory, except that you couldn’t get out of it just because you claim to be in direct telepathic contact with aliens from the planet Zorbach.
And for those readers who claim they would never agree to appear on a reality show, and in fact have no interest in becoming famous, I have only one question: What kind of American are you?
Examiner columnist Malcolm Fleschner is famous for his rapier wit, savoir faire and five-alarm chili.
