Dear America: Reality, Hot Air & Balloons

I don’t have cable so when I’m watching TV it usually means I’m watching something from Netflix or on Hulu. So, I was spared much of the “drama” of this whole Balloon Boy mess. I was not, like so many others, glued to my  television watching some brat “float away” in a balloon that could barely carry its own weight, nevermind that of a scrawny school-aged child. I haven’t been quite as lucky when it comes to the aftermath.

It’s no secret to my friends and family that kids are not my most favorite creatures in the world, mostly because people seem to think children need to be the center of everyone’s attention or they’ll turn out to be axe murderers. Here, though, is proof that when kids get too much attention they turn into something I consider to be much worse than axe murderers: brats.

It’s not little Falcon’s fault that he’s an insufferable little turd; I blame his parents. The kid hit his brother, puked, and asked, “Who the hell is Wolf?” on national television and as far as I can tell, he suffered no consequences. My mom still whacks me in the head when I say “Hell” and I’m damn-near-30. Reality TV isn’t good for any of us, but it’s especially not good for little kids who have to live their lives on it — and whose parents have to discipline them with the whole world watching. Reality TV is never really reality…unless it’s “Keyshia Cole: The Way It Is” the only reality show I’ve ever seen where I actually saw people I believed could live next door to me. And the kids on that show are 10x better behaved than any kid I’ve ever seen on TV, or on the streets. Holla!

Now that people are realizing they can get rich and famous for being talentless whackos they’re going to new lengths to out-crazy the other talentless whackos looking for a show. I imagine the Octomom’s decision to have a litter of kids, despite already having one at home went something like this: “TLC already has a couple with 8 kids, so that’s been done. And then there’s that family of religious nuts who won’t stop having one baby at a time until the wife’s uterus falls out…I just don’t know what to do…Wait, I know! How about I spit out 8 at once, and add them to the brood I’ve already got at home, and let America watch as they all struggle with health problems and my lunacy? Brilliant!”

I’m guessing Mrs. Heene wasn’t up to breeding like a rabbit — or maybe they figured America was sick of people and their invitro freak babies — so instead she agreed to perpetrate a completely ridiculous hoax involving a weather balloon and her small, slightly maniacal looking son.

Long story short, I see a trend starting. If you’re willing to act like a complete jerk and embarrass your parents on national television, then you can make money. But if you have an actual talent, like say, writing funny sitcom scripts you’re out of luck because the networks are too busy exploiting children and their crazy parents for profit.

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