It’s happened again. I’ve been sucked in to what can only be described as the lowest-common denominator of television programming. I speak not of Rock of Love, Brett Michaels's hopeless ‘ho fest, that wades unrepentantly into the shallowest, most degrading end of the XX gene pool. Nor am I talking about Wipeout, where hapless contestants trip over, smash into and fall off of all manner of padded obstacles (a step up from last year when contestants had to contort their bodies to match cutouts in a wall speeding toward them or else have the wall smack them into a pool of water). No, I’m referring to I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here.
The show offers a veritable cornucopia of moments to critique, so it’s difficult to know where to start, but the title is a good place. The name of the show presupposes that cast members are card-carrying members of the celebrity set. Janice Dickenson, Spencer Pratt, Torrie Wilson (I know, I had no idea who she was either). Enough said.
It’s hard to say what’s more horrifying about the show: Janice Dickenson’s rubber-faced contortions when she’s in the mad throws of a cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs fit (which occurs with the regularity of the sun rising and setting), or Spencer Pratt’s proclamations of possessing a level of fame unachieved by Anyone. Anywhere. Ever. I’m going to go with the latter.
Before losing all semblance of judgment and tuning into I’m a Celebrity, I’d seen this California hobbit on the covers of gossip mags. So right there, you see, I knew he was a celebrity. Just like Jon and Kate, the Octomom and Dina Lohan. And like many celebrities, he has a sidekick: his wife Heidi, who, in one episode, picks at Spencer’s hair like a chimp grooming her young. She’s the whiney Robin to his delusional Batman, the brassy-blonde Starsky to his hairy Hutch, the…you get the picture. In one dramatic episode, Spencer proclaims to the camera as he’s being driven away in a white SUV that he doesn’t volunteer (the celebrities are allegedly “playing” for charities), he gets paid. In other words, just like a celebrity. Of course, the next episode showed Spencer and Heidi begging to be allowed back on the show. What a twist! These celebrities, you never know what they’re going to do.
So, Spencer is the most famous person in the world. This much is irrefutable. Sorry Mother Teresa, Shakespeare, Oprah. You guys should be so lucky as to realize the greatness, the fame, the pinnacle of societal contribution that Spencer Pratt has. Then you too could eat bugs, deliver verbal bitch-slaps and make a mockery of the human race once a week on television.