S3 - Ranting with all my Rantingness

OK, so you all enjoyed reading (and critiquing!) my own "Write your Views" piece about reality TV. For those who missed it, it's reproduced below.

On Thursday you will be writing your own editorial rant about Reality TV in a "Write your Views" essay yourself.

It's important to remember that this should be your own thoughts, not mine, and that it is fine to be opinionated: you aren't expected to be balanced or neutral. Just tell us what you think.

Enjoy the weekend and see you on Tuesday.

“Reality TV – Look at the Pretty Colours” By Mr R Sharpe

Last weekend, my friend Tom’s parents won a reality TV show. The basic idea was very simple. A load of people they didn’t like came round for dinner. You could tell that they won because at the end because they got given £1000.

The thing is, that £1000 was funded, in part, by me. I, along with 25 million others, pay £139.50 every year for the right to own a TV. That means that £0.0004 of the money that went to Tom’s parents came from my pocket.

The irony to all this, of course, is that I could have just gone round for free, and I wouldn’t have had share the experience with an unwashed student or anyone else. The show hasn’t been aired yet but I imagine that if I were to watch it, I wouldn’t recognise the two people on the screen, in spite of knowing them well.

The show, like all reality TV, doesn’t take much planning. Take some normal people, throw in some abnormal people, and wait for something to happen. If it doesn’t, make something happen.

The truth behind these shows is often more sinister than the empty-headed logos suggest. The clever use of editing can trick the audience into believing almost anything. Even more worryingly, recent improvements in sound editing has created so –called “Frankenbites”. This new word, a combination of “Frankenstein” and “soundbite” describes where individual words, said by the “stars” across, say, an episode, are edited together into a single sentence which was never actually said.

The growth of reality TV as a genre has, like all organic growth, been slow. It surfaced with Candid Camera in the 50’s, when normal people were “pranked” by professional comedians. Big Brother, an idea originated in George Orwell’s book “1984”, was an early sign of things to come. Yet we, the modern audience, couldn’t wait for organic growth. We needed Jade Goody now, dammit! So we added some artificial fertilizer, left it out in the sun, and wham! Today it has spawned a million hybrid children. We have Celebrity Big Brother, American Big Brother, and each follows the same, braindead formula. “How to Look Good Naked”, a more recent evolution (there should be an opposite of that word) should be the shortest series ever commissioned. I can picture how it should have been:

“Hi, I’m Gok, and this is how to look good naked. Eat less and do some exercise. Thanks for watching, now over to some professionals with a programme and a script”

If it sounds like I am being unfair, it is because I am. But I like my entertainment to have some kind of purpose. If I’m to watch someone on the screen, I’d like them to have put some thought into what they are going to say and do. Perhaps practiced once or twice. Is it too much to ask that maybe they even receive a little training in front of the camera? Big Brother can be recreated in your own home (provided you have neighbours) with an electric drill, a couple of video cameras and Microsoft Moviemaker. And from what I can gather from the show, the way to look good naked is to buy more stuff.

The Romans used to have a phrase – “panem et circenses” to describe this way of keeping the lowest of their citizens entertained. It translates as “bread and circuses” and meant that if you kept the fools fed and gave them clowns to laugh at, they wouldn’t revolt and start cutting heads off the government.

Today’s bread and circuses involve watching failed celebrities, low-grade celebrities, and wannabe celebrities all desperately being uniformly unique. The development of reality TV has been at the cost of intelligent programming. It’s free to make and, because millions watch it, it rakes money in from advertising. But the hidden cost is that each time they make a show, another Jade Goody could be born. Then we have to clean up her dirty nappies for as long as her career lasts. It is the worst possible picture of the future of humanity. Our culture once tried to touch the stars, now we like to watch milkmen eating tadpoles.

Or, if you prefer the edited Frankenbite summary of the previous paragraph: Reality TV is intelligent programming. The future of humanity is free. Jade Goody is a star.

Mr R Sharpe©