What’s this?

Is it possible my eyes just slid off my face?

It cannot be.

But look!

Upon my palm, a soup de cornea.

….Well, at least this is entertaining me.

As I have no depth perception now, having lost my good eye, I’m less sure how long this will continue.

He’s trying, in earnest, to explain a reality show’s premise to me as if it requires great detail.

Where’s the fast-forward button so we can get on with our lives??

Where’s the rewind button so I can go back and stop him before this dark time came in which I had begun to feign this little interest and my eyes had proceeded to dissolve ever so thusly?

Alright. Okay.  I’m being dramatic. His amazing blather isn’t so terrible.

I just want to make it stop and expose him for what he is!! Something he may not even realize.


“As I lay here dying, my only regret was missing the second half of the special two-part episode of that show during sweeps.” Said no one, ever.

Even these conversations! These two conversations are taking time away from not only you, my handsome friend!  It’s wasting my life as well!

What entertainment is worthy of our time?

What is real entertainment?

Does quality, substance, or content even matter anymore?

Did it ever?

If we look back at some of the most famously “brilliant” literature in human history, we don’t find much more depth than that of Big Brother.

Did it matter, in the grand scheme of things, that Grendel was a product of fantasy-genre bestiality?

Would we not have been productive members of society, had we not spent hours of our lives considering this seemingly endless and truly disturbing piece of historical literature?

We were all forced to read that smut as young people. Those perverts even had the audacity to GRADE US on it!

How much of our time had we wasted alongside Judy Blume as she began her first period?  Did we really need to linger on the thoughts of that confused little girl? We were confused as it was.

Now, gently ease your way into the concept of my next contemplation:

Perhaps there is no difference between scholars picking up (SLOW DOWN!!— I SAID YOU’D HAVE TO “EASE” INTO IT!) —– Perhaps. PERHAPS there is no difference between scholars picking up the Fountainhead and Joe Shmoe turning the channel toDuck Dynasty(Did you hear the same terrifying “dun dun dun!” as I did?… No?)

The importance of literature is the experience we draw from seeing another perspective of life or the same perspective- which vindicates our own.

If you’ve never seen the documentary by Jean-Pierre Dutilleux on his encounter with the Toulambi tribe of the Amazon- watch it, first of all.  I’ve put the link at the bottom.

So, this isolated African tribe had never been exposed to white people in the history of their race’s existence.  They knew nothing of technology in any form beyond what they had built, for thousands of years, out of raw natural resources.

This white film maker shows up and the men of the tribe freak.  They aren’t sure if it’s safe to approach and when they do they hover and look through the things his crew has brought with them on their trip.  They examine everything very carefully.  The one bit of their first encounter that stuck with me was how they examined Jean-Pierre.  They touch his skin and their own.  They touch his hair and then each other’s.  They react as if they aren’t sure if they missed the boat or if he did.

The looks they have on their faces tell the story of every human experience.

We learn by watching others.

You have no introspection without retrospection.  It doesn’t even have to be your own experiences.

That’s the beauty of humans.

Not only are we so intelligent that we can learn just by letting others learn on our behalf but humans have the capacity to invent a completely fictitious person and devise a potentially exhaustive history for them which we can in turn learn from. MIND=BLOWN.

We are like those Toulambi men.  We see something and instinctually we want to know more.  So naturally this handsome gentleman would be drawn to reality TV.

Of COURSE Big Brother had such high ratings.  It’s now shockingly obvious how the European version of the program had a much headier fan base.  Their “contestants” only contest, really, was living in front of the cameras.  They weren’t constantly forced to react to unnatural occurrences.  They simply needed to respond to their environment and they instantly had a captivated audience.

We are fascination, embodied, as we spend time with those we love.  Perhaps that’s the reason some people attract us.  We are fascinated by them.

I also think I just figured out why I didn’t stop him from going on about the show.