Reality: Everyone is fake

The writers’ strike must end. With the current over-saturation of reality TV, let’s hope the viewing public will clamor for better material. Somehow I doubt that is going to happen.

The writers’ strike must end. With the current over-saturation of reality TV, let’s hope the viewing public will clamor for better material. Somehow I doubt that is going to happen.

TruTv: videos are real

If you’re interested in the pure distillation of reality-based TV, your eyes should be glued to just one station: TruTV.

The writers’ strike, by my estimation, has brought us exactly 75 percent more reality TV. But is that enough? If you answered no, read on. CourtTV has been bought and re-engineered as a full-time, god-awful purveyor of reality in the form of caught-on-video schlock. Their slogan? “Not reality. Actuality.”

But as much as I wish to call bullshit on this mantra, I have to admit, at this point, that it kind of makes sense. Reality TV is a reality-not mine, or probably yours, but it’s something that seems very real to its ongoing participants. (That guy who just got kicked in the nuts? You know he feels it.)

Rock of Love 2, Sundays at 9 p.m. on VH1

It didn’t take Bret Michaels, singer of ’80s band Poison, very long to throw his hat back into the TV-dating ring. In this show we see a bunch of overtly unaware girls hurl themselves at a guy who performed his well-known (and shitty) songs over 15 years ago. VH1 is great that way. We used to wonder where some celebrities went, but now we have a new question to ponder: Why was this person famous in the first place?

This dating show format has become as familiar as sitcoms were in the 1980s. Except the cast in these “celebreality” shows never seems to change. Stupid people now congregate on VH1.

Celebrity Rehab, Thursdays at 10 p.m. on VH1

Dr. Drew from Loveline hosts this latest foray into “celebreality.” Instead of being able to laugh at the misfortunes and faux pas of B-list (at most) celebs, as a viewer you feel … bad. And the last thing I want is to feel sorry for a former American Idol star or the singer of the rap/rock mishap known as CrazyTown.

Among the addicted is Brigitte Nielson, a mainstay of the VH1 reality show scene. Which makes one think, how dedicated is VH1 to solving her problem when they basically created it by making her famous? And how long can someone make a living out of appearing on reality television? What is the reality show endgame?

American Gladiators, Mondays at 8 p.m. on NBC

Hey, you, wearing overtly out-of-date clothing. Yes, you, the inhabitants of Portland. May I say the next new trend, if you wish to be part of the vanguard (!) of ironic fashion, is going to be whatever the muscled men (and less importantly, women) wore on the original American Gladiators.

Which is to say a plush, less dangerous version of what Conan (the barbarian, not O’Brien) and company assumed. And maybe you’ll want a crazy, domineering name. Like “Hardiness” or “Whoosh.” Wait, never mind, because this has all been brought back–and on network TV, no less. NBC, in its infinite writer-less wisdom, has decided to resurrect everyone’s (and by that I mean everyone who mattered to me growing up) favorite show from the early to late ’90s. I know, I know, many of you don’t care; we’re still in the era of ’85 irony, but still. Hipsters, you just got beat at your own game. NBC has just created a vortex of pre-post-irony.