My head is about to explode. I just saw the Reunion Show for I Love New York. And (spoiler alert): TANGO. WHY YOU GOTTA PLAY A SISTER LIKE THAT???
Though, in all fairness, I hate new york and everything her ignorant, righteous, obnoxious, saggy titted ass ever stood for, and actually, tango kinda had a point. Well, not kinda. I was really just looking for an excuse to shout the words "play a sister".
And though I doubt his basic premise that he was in love with Tiffany, not "New York", if he were telling the truth, he would be right. The latter, as we came to know her, never was - and never will be - a loveable person. Tiffany...maybe, but the jury's out and getting irritated at New York's overblown sense of self-as-full-celebrity skipping hand in hand with her complete failure to comprehend dolphins.
"Where do they keep their brains", indeed.
In any case, the whole thing was a lurid, lurid affair and I'm glad that it's over. It was like a slow motion train wreck in the truest sense of that expression; there was a concept. It derailed. There were casualties. One of whom was ME.
I was actually quite amused by the sickly sweet pleasure watching I Love New York gave me (like People and Us and OK! But without the troublesome matter of having to turn pages or Read) until I realized how the show came to be.
Behold, the most pointless and rudimentary pop culture flow chart Ever.
Surreal Life (wherein the inexplicable love between Flava Flav and Brigitte Nielson first rears its rather awkward looking head) begat
StrangeLove (a mindfuck of a chronicle of the love between Flav and Brigitte, wherein Brigitte fluctuates between a younger, italian lover and flav, ultimately choosing the former) begat
Flavor of Love (wherein Flav chooses a rebound biatch from a batch of 25 - one wonders how it feels to be the silver medal to brigitte's gold - and whittles the number to two: Hoopz and New York, who has professed to be in true love with Flav since, like, episode 2. He chooses Hoopz and...) begat
Flavor of Love 2 (+side note: the first season also spawned Charm School.+ wherein Flav invites New York back, she makes it to the top two again, and is again rejected, proving graphically to the world that doing the exact same thing twice and expecting different results really is the definition of insanity. I managed to miss this entire season somehow. Sadly, I attribute this to the approximately 6 months this year when I didn't have cable in my apartment.) begat
I Love New York. (Wherein...ahhh, fuck it. Wherein I am spared the effort of slitting my wrists when tango proposes to - and then shits all over - New York and makes her cry big showbiz tears as big as lightbulbs on national televison, as detailed above.)
So the geneology of the Show, if you will, its pedigree, makes me angry. It makes my head wanna "spinoff" my neck.
The other day, my dad gave me a big lecture about my not wanting to contribute to society, and I thought of the spin offs. That's what society values, I thought. Skinny waists and a desire to degrade oneself with one's inability and lack of desire to form complete and coherent sentences. It makes one feel hopeless and alone.
But...movies like Stranger than Fiction are being made, too, and though it does feature a skinny waist or two, it also makes the point that when one is feeling helpless and alone, comfort can be found in the little things.But that's not the point. The point is that some people don't deserve to be celebrities, and I get the sneaking suspicion that some of this is Paris Hilton's fault.