“This reality show means the apocalypse is upon us!”
Hasn’t surviving 2012 taught us anything? All the Kardashians and Honey Boo Boos and prophetic Mayans can’t bring about the end of the world. It’s just going to keep spinning no matter how many MREs and cases of bottled water we stockpile. Yet whenever a low-rent reality show is announced, there’s a round of oh-the-humanity hand-wringing. It’s like wealthy suburbanites in gated communities who diss their tacky new neighbors. Prime time has gone from a carefully manicured white-picket-fence cul-de-sac run by three white guys to a diverse metropolis with streets bursting with a variety of content. Some shows are amazing and plenty are dreadful, but since nobody can watch it all anyway there’s no point in being mad about shows you’ll never see. More than ever, TV reflects us. And looking in the mirror is always a little scary.