Um… Race!
I know that I’m amongst a few elitist literary snobs, (some of whom don’t even live in the United States! *shock*), but I’m hoping at least one other person caught the premiere of Survivor: Cook Islands. That’s the one where the contestants are segregated into four tribes - by race. Awesome. I spent the entire time trying to figure out if they were reinforcing stereotypes, if I was the one layering them on the show, or if they were even present in the first place. That and drooling over the various VERY pretty ethnic minorities, like some bizarre, reclusive fetishist. (Ooo… Hawaiian…) You know, I take pride in my latent racism. It’s what makes me charming. It’s not *real* racism, and most of it is directed at those damn Chinese anyway.
Regardless, I can’t put my foot on it, but I know that there is something with this show that makes me a little fluttery inside. Not the type where I feel like I’m going to vomit, but the type where I feel like I’m falling in love all over again. I know, I know… I’m talking about reality TV. I talk about it all the time. But to get away from that, I think it’s a general feeling I get around this time of the year, and why I think I hate the Summer so much. The Fall TV Season recharges my batteries, and makes me think about stuff I was too hot to think about over the summer. Race, religion, mortality, heroes, and inane competitions to win titles that don’t matter! I’ve already coordinated the two DVRs in my house to record every single show worth watching, although I’m sure that I’ll only end up watching about 40% of them. That’s the other thing… one would think that I’ve become one of those bizzare, reclusive fetishists that I was bemoaning earlier - fantastizing about the people I see on TV. (My boyfriend certainly thinks I have.) The fact is that this past year marks the biggest year for amount of hours actually spent OUTSIDE the house. It was a milestone for me. I really think that just knowing that I have a cache of television, some highbrow, some trashy, some downright sublime, has impelled me to do better at everything.
Even racism, you slanty-eyed, tight-pussied whore.
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