From What to WTF.

I’m journaling a bit late this morning due to monthly chores. I got a roll-over litter box and I love it. Instead of having to clean the litter box weekly, I need only deal with it once a month. The biggest setback is scraping clumps off the bottom–but it’s early in the day, so I’ll refrain from going into glorious detail.

I’m a HUGE fan of Law and Order. I’m particularly fond of Criminal Intent. There’s only one channel that plays back to back episodes of CI and that’s WeTV. I put it on during the day when I’m performing simple proofreading of the series bible, via Grammarly, as background noise. Where am I going with this? I’ve discovered that reality television, the backbone of WeTV’s programming, is an insidious creature that burrows into your brain like a well-engineered virus.

Reality TV plays upon the primordial need to watch other people’s drama. We’ve been doing it since we lived in caves. Civilization separated us with houses and yards, but the urge to lookey-loo remains intact. It emerges unabashed in all of us when we gather about crime scenes or agree to Thanksgiving dinner with the extended family. I grew up on a street where the baba knew everyone’s business by sheer virtue of having a front room window by the stoop. At an early age there was always shit going down on our street in full view of my young eyes; no adult ever came to gently turn my head from the drama because they were busy watching it, too.

WeTV is aware of humanities innate need to watch other people’s drama. Every commercial break that Criminal Intent takes features their two hottest reality shows: Momma June – From Hot to Not, and The Braxton’s. They’ve got others shows, but I could tune those out because they reek of manufactured drama; but let’s be honest, it’s all manufactured.

I was immediately drawn to Mamma June because we all know someone in our lives just like her. Classicism in our culture loves to dismiss her ilk as trash, but June’s life is out there for all the world to see and some assembly need not be required. June’s an obese woman in a culture that hates fat people. (I can relate to this) She makes bad choices in men and food (we can all relate to this), and she’s doing what most American’s wish they could: Getting a quick fix because someone else is willing to foot the bill. There’s not a person of size out there who hasn’t thought if I had the money I would make this fat go away; From Hot to Not is showing America that there are limits to this dream. You can’t go in a total fat-ass and come out a hard body. You must lose a substantial amount of weight before you can get lap-band; you must alter your entire eating scheme for the rest of your life after you get the band. On your way to losing weight, you can’t get loose skin removed if the plastic surgeon thinks you’re just going to go back to eating the way you were.

0_0 I learned all these things just from the previews.

I watched an episode (I gave in, and I did it) Momma June has some great people in her corner. Her trainer is overly enthusiastic (he’d be perfect for kids and teens) and working with him as garnered results. What WeTV isn’t willing to detail, or hasn’t, is why Momma June abuses food in the first place. She’s losing weight so she can get a “revenge body.” Google it; this post is long enough. Trainers will tell you there’s no bad reason to start someone on the path to losing weight, but after this wedding and her WeTV payday, Momma’s still going to be the same person she was before, a person that abuses food. Mental health is a key factor in why many of us overeat, stress eat, or plain out binge eat. I got away with it for years because of exercise, but then the thyroid said fuck-you and my abusive eating began to show. That’s what draws me to Momma June’s drama, I’ve been there and back again. Will watch anymore? Maybe.

When I found myself suddenly interested in the Braxton’s I came to the sickening realization that it was never relativity or empathy that drew me to these shows…it was that morbid desire to watch others people’s drama.

Ugh.

I am the sum of my parts.

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