This is the No Spin Zone! ...but not really

Bill O’Reilly and Keith Olbermann are two overpriced anger-junkies looking for a reason to stroke out. Both men are millionaires, making a living off incendiary and incessantly obnoxious rebuttals of political strawmen.

Let’s briefly cover the history of these two fellows, shall we? O’Reilly is a phone rapist, having spent many a night calling coworkers to discuss what he’d like to do with their private parts. In 2004 he was sued by a lady who just couldn’t take his constant verbal assaults on her vagina. Let’s be honest with ourselves. What sort of sane person could tolerate the sound of his voice long enough to have a normal conversation, let alone have one about the intimate business of love-making. O’Reilly is a creep. Oh, and in case the occasional sexual harassment doesn’t tickle your fancy I present you with the O’Reilly Freakout.



Check out that hair. Donald Trump is so jealous! The size of that man’s head is astounding.

Then we have Keith, king of pedantic condescension. If I have to listen to one more whiney rant about how Republicans are destroying everything, I’m going to vomit in an envelope and mail it to MSNBC. Or maybe I should be mailing it to the unemployment line, as Keith was recently fired from his coveted position of being almost as big of a schmuck as Bill O’Reilly. You may have noticed above that I mentioned the sound of O’Reilly’s voice as one of my reasons for disliking him. If you can stomach it, listen to a minute of this:



Do you hear that tone in his voice? It’s saying, “I’m better than you.” Do you see the little squints of self-righteousness in his eyes? That’s him being utterly convinced of his cleverness. Keith just has this innate talent to be condescending. Everything he says makes me feel like someone ought to throat punch him.

I hate O’Reilly because I walk away from his show feeling like my molester uncle just tried to give me advice on how to pick up chicks. He reeks of back-alley pervert. I hate Olbermann because I feel like the guy honestly believes he’s the smartest person on the planet. He’s the dude who sits at bar and lets everyone know that he read a book today. Hey. hey you. I read a book. It had 600 pages! It was entitled, Twilight. You can’t even read, can you? You silly Republican.


My point is this: Journalism is dead because nobody watches journalists. Nobody cares much for the hard facts anymore. As much as I’m disgusted with the ear-piercing drone of these two men, I know some of you read this blog and thought, “Well I think [insert name here] has some really good ideas! He don’t take no crap!” No, blog reader. Both of these men make a living off of being assholes. Their entire job is to be annoying. If sex sells magazines, angry obnoxiousness sells political commentary.

Jersey Shore: Making Douchebaggery Fun!

I try to resist, but on occasion I can’t stop myself from dipping my feet into the puddle of sewage that is the Jersey Shore. We’ve all heard the trite decrees that reality television reflects the downward spiral of our civilization. Blah. Blah. Blah. Haughty academics and bitter fast food employees alike whine about the fakeness of “reality” T.V. They talk about the genre as if it’s the final straw on society’s morbidly obese back. Screw that, man.

Don’t get me wrong, I really hate the Teen Moms. I want to vomit every time someone says, “I just can’t do this!” on Made, but let’s be realistic here, blog reader. It’s hard to resist a drunken oompa loompa getting punched in the face. Yea, you know what I’m talking about. When Snooki from Jersey Shore took a swift hook from some Guido, you laughed. We all laughed!

I know more about the physics of that punch than I do about how the earth revolves around the sun. I bet you didn’t notice that the guy next to her also got hit with the same wallop, did you? The gravitational force of that Guido’s fist drew in unsuspecting pedestrians.

What I’m trying to say is that there are certain events that we just can’t miss. I’m sure there’s some sociological theory about the collective consciousness of man and whatnot, but I’m not a freakin’ sociologist. I write blogs, and this blog is about why you should accept reality television into your heart. You drink alcohol, you might smoke cigarettes, and it’s pretty likely that you’ve at least tried some other stuff. All of these things kill your brain cells, so why do you do them? I’ve got the answer for you right here; you do it because it’s fun. Reality TV is the perfect opportunity for you to turn off your brain and have fun vicariously.


Oh, The Situation got herpes? That silly goofball! The stoned couch potatoes laugh. The ambitious executives cackle. The soccer moms smile as they eat another chocolate bar. Reality TV speaks to inner five year old in all of us. We like watching other people act like fools because it makes us feel better about ourselves.

For me, it’s the fist-pumping douchebag. For you, it might be some breeding adolescent. For someone else, who knows. The point is that everyone has a reality show that helps them escape from their own reality. Instead of trying to analyze it, let’s just tune in and space out.