Oh yes, my friends. It’s out there. It’s in print, and I am vindicated!
You may remember last summer when I wrote about how reality killed the video star, how there are way too many guilty pleasure shows trying to draw you in to the voyeuristic world of reality television.
Many people have no problem telling me that they would never watch the stuff I describe and laugh about. Some of them say “I don’t watch television at all.” And though I respect their choice to stay away from the idiot box, I never have relished how some say that they would never watch a show like some that I describe. Chances are they wouldn’t, but really people, there’s no need to be a snob about it.
If you don’t want to watch, don’t watch. But don’t judge those of us that wish to waste brain cells on watching other people’s lives.
Besides, according to what I just read, all you ladies are lying about what you watch on television.
Alliance Atlantis issues a press release that starts just like this. “41 per cent of women prefer ‘guilty pleasure’ TV to going out , having sex, playing with their kids or a romantic dinner.”
What!? What is this madness? I read on. “Women with vices almost unanimously (92 per cent) indulge in their vice at least one a week.”
Ah HA! Busted!
Okay, maybe television isn’t a vice for all of these women that were polled, but guess what? Even though 25 per cent of women admit that they don’t tell anyone they watch guilty pleasure television, a whopping 85 per cent of women polled grudgingly admitted that they indulge in senseless television at least once a week!
Vindicated much?
So, ladies. Give it up already. You can pretend that you still don’t have time for nonsense such as television, but I know the truth, even if you’re not ready to admit it.
And you know what? Who cares if you like silly reality shows? Don’t you work hard enough all day, every day to warrant a bit of an escape?
Is it really so bad that you want to climb into your ratty, faded, most comfortable jogging pants (not that they’ve ever seen a day of running), your stained hoodie, your fuzziest socks? Does anyone really care that you want to curl up in your favourite chair or the best corner of your couch to escape for an hour of Extreme Makeover Home Edition or America’s Next Top Model?
I don’t care if you want to do it. You deserve to do it. And you can tell anyone that cares to snob-er-ize their disdain on you not to judge before they’ve spent a couple of hours trying not to get sucked in to the happily-ever-after of those people captured on camera.
If you still get a cold shoulder after you’ve subjected your friends to the ‘you can’t judge it until you’ve tried it’ experiment, show them this column, point to the percentages and tell them to give it up- numbers don’t lie.
