We are poised on the precipice of destruction. Armageddon is but a moment away.
What could possibly initiate such depressing diatribes? I walked into my house the other day and found my youngest daughter watching something on TV called "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" and I have no better explanation than the end is near. For the gleefully uninitiated, this latest entry into the moronic genre of reality TV follows a pack of genetically inbred humans who literally live on the wrong side of the tracks as their domicile sits precariously next to a railroad crossing. The family, and I use the term with caution, consists of a grossly obese, foul mouthed mother who gives new meaning to the words trailer trash. I think most folks who live in trailers would be offended to be in the same category as this behemoth. She constantly delights us with such admonitions as "Huh?" and "I'm going to kick your a--" , reinforcing the fact that you can reproduce like a rabbit with only the equivalence of the rabbit's intelligence. I'm sure there are some redeeming values to this woman, yet the producers seem content to portray her as a monolith to idiocy. The seventeen year old daughter is pregnant and single...of course. I wonder if she got knocked up at the request of the show's sponsors to fulfill some stereotypical portrayal of the southern adolescent; however, after she opened her mouth it was clear that she needed no coaxing to go forth and multiply. The husband (I assume they are married) is a good ole country boy whose major contribution to the show is to provide bizarre pets for the family. The episode I saw had him purchasing and delivering a tea cup pig to the clan to cheer up Honey Boo Boo after losing a glitz pageant. The problem was after about ten minutes it became difficult to distinguish between the kids and the pig.
The "star" and show's namesake is a chubby child who gained fame on Toddlers and Tiaras, that chronicle of legalized child abuse. She had the camera men laughing so hard in one episode that one fell off his dolly, probable the closest she will ever come to sweeping someone off their feet. There is nothing more enticing then seeing a 6 year old grab a handful of her generous belly fat and say, "How ya like my jelly belly?" It makes me want to run right out and buy the Girl's Club a Twinkie farm. This poor child is destined to be one of those kids sitting in the clock tower of some university with a Kalashnikov taking pot shots at passersby. I can't even imagine the psychological effect she may experience viewing this show after puberty and having to face other middle schoolers, who are known for their compassionate ways. Personally I think both the producers and the parents should be brought up on charges of child endangerment for relegating this child to a lifetime of ridicule, but I guess if you name one child Pumpkin and the other Honey Boo Boo you haven't really set the bar too high.
As I watched, I found myself praying that these caricatures would be from Texas, Mississippi, or some other Southern state that could handle the abuse. Anything but Georgia. We are still reeling from the Deliverance stereotype and that was more than 40 years ago. I still have some friends in Vermont ask me every now and then if I would squeal like a pig. I cringed in disgust as a sign burst onto the screen, "Welcome to McIntyre, Georgia" followed by the family standing proudly by their railroad squatting house. This happy domestic tranquility was interrupted by one of the darling daughters passing gas louder than a passing train whistle. Just what Georgia needs, another TV portrayal of the result of multiple generations marrying their relatives.
The episode I was forced to watch, sort of like coming onto the scene of a terrible car wreck, involved multiple vignettes, including the Redneck Games and a glitz pageant. The Redneck games consisted of a variety of "competitions" ranging from belly flops in a mud pit (and believe me, no one got hurt because there was enough belly on most to cushion a massive direct blow) to bobbing for pigs feet. I don't know why they just didn't pass out antibiotics for the inevitable Salmonella poisoning but I suspect no self respecting bacteria would have anything to do with these folk's bodies. Honey Boo Boo and her clan participated in various events but seem to relish wallowing in the mud pit above all else. The irony and symbolism was not lost on me or most of the audience I am sure.
In a global, Internet connected world where people in Uzbekistan can view the same shows as someone in Milledgeville, it seems somewhat important that there be some standards for transmission. Now I am a First Amendment guy and censorship is tantamount to blasphemy, but maybe we can limit what shows up on cable by clicking right on past Honey Boo Boo and keep such garbage off the airwaves. Then all we will be left with is a moronic show about rich mutants who have the same IQ as their Southern brethren called The Kardashians.
