Respect Authority

Alright I know this isn’t meant to be a silo for all manner of viral videos and, to be honest, I’m not the biggest fan of viral videos to begin with—the hit-or-miss aspect offends me. (There’s a reason I watch so much television, where discerning viewers are free to pass judgment on an entire series after just a single episode). That said, I was more than a little excited for the premiere of Funny or Die Presents on HBO, not only because it gives me a little tickle in my tummy to know TV still has some measure of power (FOD is otherwise a fairly popular video Web site, so it says something that they bothered with television at all), but also because I hate watching shit on my laptop.

FOD is unquestionably sophomoric, so there were times I felt disadvantaged by my lack of a 14 to 25-year-old penis, but overall the show had enough gems to make it more than worth it. This is one of them:

To all three readers of Respect Authority, let us extend our deepest apologies. It’s 2010 now, which means a new decade, and a new opportunity to shirk our regular responsibilities in favor of inane blog writing. Consider it my New Year’s resolution. (Well, one of them, third after “Watch less TV” and “Don’t be so hard on yourself if you don’t end up watching less TV.”) And there’s no better way to start off a new year of witty commentary and reality television snark than with a missive defending MTV’s now infamous Jersey Shore.

I know, I know, I’m weeks late in commenting on the work of sheer genius that is Jersey Shore, but it took a few episodes’ worth of contemplation to really nail down what it is about JS that’s so damn appealing. It’s not just the fights, or the inane commentary, or the inability of men on this show not to use the word “fresh” at least once an episode. I mean, it is all of those things (as well as the fact that JS has become so pop-culture relevant that even die-hard haters of reality TV wonder if they’re missing out) but also many more. Here, in three points, is my defense of Jersey Shore.

1. “When it’s time to party, we will party hard.”
One of MTV’s biggest mistakes when it came to every season of The Real World after San Diego was the show’s slow trajectory away from bar fights and towards passive-aggressive work arguments, or utterly boring in-house pranks. Although Real World was always a forum for (ahem) real-world issues—homosexuality, religion, war—those issues were, and still are, best brought up in a loud club, after a lot of alcohol. At least for television purposes. While several of the more recent Real World seasons (Brooklyn and now-airing D.C. being the most flagrant examples) have devolved into mind-numbing self-righteous and too often sober discussions of political and social qualms, I have yet to hear anyone on the Jersey Shore discuss something other than clothes, hair, drinking, clubbing or sex. The vast majority of the show’s footage is of the roommates at bars (to the point that I’ve learned the names of said bars) or on their own roof deck, wooing unsuspecting (or totally suspecting) young ladies into their altogether normal hot tub. This is the stuff of great television.

2. “Watch the lioness, as she contemplates her next victim.”
Though MTV has always been a master of stereotypes—in a truly meta moment, one of the cast members of Real World D.C. correctly predicted that the last arriving housemate would be “the gorgeous black man” and lamented the lack of a “gay guy”—putting a group of the same stereotype in one house and watching them exist together is nothing short of genius. While much of reality television is founded on the notion of different people coming together and interacting, JS joins people that could have very easily become friends anyway. Indeed, to watch the crew interact is akin to some anthropological study: the ease with which they communicate in their unique language, the guido rituals (gym, tanning, laundry, in that order) to which most of them subscribe, the almost immediate tribe-like bond they form with one another. Though plenty of attention has been paid to the negative connotation of “guido” and the show’s supposed affirmation of this stereotype, I personally find the culture more interesting than laughable.

3. “Won’t you be my neighbor?”
This, above all, is the reason I watch Jersey Shore: Despite their questionable fashion choices, limited vocabulary and utter devotion to hooking up, the cast of JS is, for the most part, kind of likeable. The show’s most annoying roommates–the much-maligned Situation, whose desperation when it comes to lady-hunting is downright cringeworthy; and Sammi “Sweetheart,” whose “I’m the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet” opening-credits line pretty much says it all–are still in my view a rung above even the least annoying people on The Real World. More importantly, they actually seem real. Perhaps by virtue of becoming part of a 20+ year institution, MTV has created something of a monster when it comes to Real World casting: the 20-somethings who ultimately make the cut appear on air with such a sense of self-worth (having made it through umpteen rounds of auditions) that they seem to assume their lives are interesting. By contrast, the Jersey Shore group always seem mildly baffled by their own fame: they’re in it for the sex, free booze and VIP club seating, not to be a part of pop culture history. This is something I can respect.

It should come as no surprise that I’m a fairly big Jersey Shore fan – it’s like the orange-juice concentrate of live-in-a-house-together reality programming, with more hooking up and fighting in one episode than other shows manage in a season. But I think Jersey Shore is a little something extra: it doesn’t create characters by putting otherwise mundane people in a tricked-out house and parading them through overpriced bars and faux careers. Instead, MTV found actual characters, put them in a rather mundane house, and let them handle all the parading. To me, that’s pretty—for lack of a better word—fresh.

The only funny thing Bobby Moynihan has ever really done on SNL:

Also:

Only Spencer Pratt would have another friend named Spencer.

…Occasionally, sometimes…still the best fucking show on television.

In addition to all the rappers, producers and celebrities interviewed for 50 Cent’s episode of Behind the Music: his barber. Which is even more interesting considering I don’t think I’ve ever seen 50 Cent’s hair.

"Next stop: Judge Judy."

Balloon Boy is ruining reality television.

Just one week ago the world seemed apathetically at ease with what’s easily become the most popular (or at least most predominant) genre of television. Shows like Big Brother and Survivor, which years ago paved the way for reality TV amid much controversy, now seem tame when pitted against even more low-brow fare like Bad Girls Club and Dance Your Ass Off. The barrier to entry has gotten undeniably lower. Shows used to require elaborate set-ups involving obstacle courses, cash prizes and the eating of bugs; these days all you need is a foul mouth, or fourteen children.

So when six-year-old Falcon Heene duped the nation last week, reportedly at the behest of his fame-seeking crazy person of a father, critics were quick to condemn reality TV for perpetuating these kinds of stunts, and bringing about the worst in human nature. In other words, it’s not entirely Papa Heene’s fault. Can he truly be blamed for tricking the authorities, and the viewing public, into believing his son was trapped in a giant UFO-like helium balloon? Well gee golly, certainly not, considering the effect these sorts of lowest-common-denominator programs have had on the human psyche.

It’s precisely this sort of retarded—that’s a scientific choice of words, retarded—thinking that absolves countless people from responsibility because of ideas “society” has put in their heads. Fame, all fifteen minutes of it, existed long before Donald Trump started hiring apprentices, or Jon and Kate had 900 kids. And people have long aspired to stardom; otherwise the entire entertainment industry would be phenomenally boring. Read More ›

So this is the first time since I moved to NYC that I find myself caring about city politics — the mayor, to be specific. It’s a weird feeling, caring, especially without the pop culture backing of something like a presidential election. I mean, there are a LOT of people in this country, most people, who couldn’t give a shit about the mayor of New York, and I generally like to fall in the range of “most people” on things — except U2, Seinfeld and Jell-O. But some budding adult in me decided to watch the mayoral debate last night. I could say I wanted to educate myself, or at the very least be prepared for next-day water cooler gossip, but the truth is I find political debates wildly riveting when I’m high. In some bizarre reverse-intellectual way, I think it’s because they’re the ultimate reality television. …(Someday when I’m older, I’m going to read that sentence again and be embarrassed).

So after an hour of bad lighting, awkward arguments and lots of political gibberish, I took away one thing:

Bill Thompson: “In conclusion, if you don’t vote for me, I will fucking shoot Mike Bloomberg in the head and bury him at Hudson Yards with a gravestone that says ‘Term Limit Reached, Motherfucker.’” *

*Note: Bill Thompson did not say this.

Sometimes local news promos make me kind of maybe want to watch local news. The fact that I caught this during what appears to be a reptilian grimace on the part of Michelle Trachtenberg, well, that’s just coincidence.

Also, Gossip Girl: Incredibly appropriate time to show this headline.

Politicians and public figures could learn a thing or two from David Letterman.

The Late Show host had a rather interesting monologue last night: Apparently a CBS News employee attempted to blackmail Letterman for $2 million by threatening to expose his sexual dalliance with CBS employees. Letterman, ever-resourceful, met with his extortionist a few times, forked over a faux check, and then proceeded to tell the entire story on air less than 12 hours after the guy was arrested. Genius.

Naturally, the so-called “scandal” made headlines Friday, but let’s look at the facts here: David Letterman is an adult (I’m being kind; senior citizen sounds mean), and despite being a public figure, has no moral obligation bestowed upon him by his job. If anything, one might expect the host of a snark-filled late-night entertainment show to be among the least moral television personalities, even if he is 132 years old. Moreover, Letterman didn’t molest anyone; he didn’t rape staffers or bribe 17-year-old interns. He apparently had consensual sex with more than one woman employed by his network. To which I say kudos Dave; a Viagra commercial is in your future.

Considering how willingly the vast majority of people accept the reality of sex, which is, simply, that adults have it, and often, it continues to baffle me how scandalized the country feels when it’s revealed that an adult in the public eye has given in to carnal pleasures. Politicians are one thing, particularly politicians having affairs, though even in those situations I find it a reach to equate someone’s marital fidelity to their ability to hold office. But entertainers? Musicians? David Duchovny? I mean really, who gives a fuck.

I have to give Letterman credit, not just for bedding what were probably younger women (the alternative is too frightening a visual), but for the way he handled the aftermath. He didn’t run away with his tail between his legs, or let the news surface and then deny until he was blue in the face. Nor did he take the completely justified but ultimately unsatisfying stance that none of it is anyone’s business. He addressed the issue directly, immediately, and with no shortage of humor.  If I ever have consensual sex with a geriatric comedian, I can only hope they handle the situation with similar aplomb.

And people say America’s Funniest Home Videos isn’t funny.

Jenna Elfman sucks at dating. Just when we all thought we were safe from randomly debilitating replays of Dharma & Greg, arguably one of television’s more ridiculous forays into the great wide world of mediocre comedy as a product of unlikely coupling (see Will and Grace, King of Queens and The Nanny), CBS is getting ready to debut tonight Accidentally on Purpose, a new show starring Elfman as a 30-something movie critic who gets pregnant after having a one-night affair with a man named Zack, and subsequently decides to keep both the baby and the new boyfriend around – indefinitely.

If you’re thinking this sounds familiar, you should be. Who can forget how utterly witty and modern it seemed when Elfman as Dharma married Greg after a single date and the two proceeded to plod through what ultimately became a fairly boring marriage, with the exception being their respectively hilarious parents.

According to Wikipedia, Billie (Elfman) and Zack decide to live together platonically, and hijinks ensue as the two come to the obvious conclusion that living platonically with the other half of your life-changing one-night-stand makes thing like dating, friendship, or normal day-to-day existence pretty hard. I’m picturing that season of Will & Grace where Grace decides she wants to have a baby with Will, and we’re all really happy for them and their gay-friendly decision-making until it becomes clear that platonic friend-babies, even hypothetical ones, aren’t as fun when there’s not even the remote possibility of their parents having drunken sex one night after a fight over diaper genies. Moreover, this plotline fizzles out after approximately nine months, at which point all of the hilarity of shared living space takes a backseat to the fact that these two will ostensibly have a real live baby to care for.

So I’m sorry Jenna, but this ship has sailed. Multiple times, and we know it ends up in one of two places: the no-man’s land of boring finales, where even the suggested union of Will and Grace’s respective children wasn’t enough to get the sour taste of our mouths, or the totally predictable island of happily ever after, where Ross and Rachael are probably shacked up right now.

Unfortunately, without the star power of Jennifer Aniston, or the scene-savers that were W&G’s Karen and Jack, Accidentally on Purpose is poised to accidentally suck by making poor and predictable plot choices, on purpose.