OK, I walk into the TV room the other night expecting to watch some vintage Eastwood and what do I wind up watching instead? The Real Housewives of New Jersey — aka nouveau riche, high maintenance, goombah psycho bitches — are squaring off.

The Real Housewives of New Jersey

Their verbal barbs are mean and drawing blood and I can’t change the channel. Not since the meow days of Falcon Crest and Dynasty have I so wanted to see to see manicured claws maul Maybelline. But this feeling seems different somehow, and research on the way reality shows affect viewers appears to confirm that it is.

Are viewers more likely to emulate behavior when the characters on the screen are real people? The answer appears to be ‘yes.’ (more…)

When the end of the world comes, the four horsemen of the Apocalypse won’t greet us; The Real Housewives of New Jersey’ll tear us to shreds.

Television long ago brought something to the world that should never have been mixed: entertainment and reality. Because the moment you stick a camera in the face of reality, the reality gets lost. What you end up with is the ability for a camera to be on while a human being sheds all traces of its shame. That place where one openly cowers in a passive emotion while being in a public place.
I love a good car crash, not the sort that involves a motor vehicle and some poor slob texting-in his fantasy baseball picks. I’m talking about the car crash that is “The Real Housewives of New Jersey.”  Like a rubbernecking commuter getting one last look at those pretty flashing lights, I can’t take my eyes off that show. Its complete lack of shame coupled by the site of human beings unconsciously relishing in their own self-destruction is thrilling to me.

Shame is the lost gesture in today’s ugly world of reality TV and we need it back. It’s what separates us from the animals. (more…)