MINDLESS: I’m not saying we shouldn’t be watching it. My twice-a-week dates with Sam Frost would prove me a hypocrite if I was telling you not to watch it.
MINDLESS: I’m not saying we shouldn’t be watching it. My twice-a-week dates with Sam Frost would prove me a hypocrite if I was telling you not to watch it.

Reality TV to hit home

REALITY television is hardly something to be taken seriously.

But be careful, Australia: you're starting to do just that.

We are getting too precious when it comes to reality television.

While I'll be first to admit I've enjoyed the odd giggle at a Big Brother housemate, shed the odd tear for an eliminated bachelorette and thrown the odd soft drink can at a celebrity apprentice, I feel as though my dignity is (almost) saved by one simple observation: I really don't care what happens.

Indeed, as the credits roll, cruelly symbolic of the end of some contestant or other's "journey", "adventure" or whatever other overused metaphoric buzz words those who are eliminated choose to come up with, I can't help but be reminded of just how much I have wasted a weeknight.

But hey. It's fun. And I too "just want Sam to be happy".

The truth is, we are sucked in.

But that's hardly anything new.

We've been hooked on reality television since Sara-Marie taught us how to do a "bum dance" while keeping your bunny ears firmly attached to your head.

See? They're educational too.

What is new, however, is the level to which we are becoming emotionally invested in what is truly - perhaps for want of a better term - mindless filth.

Needless to say, mindless filth is not something we should be taking too seriously.

Earlier this year, I penned a column highlighting how our obsession with reality show MasterChef had turned us into unqualified food snobs, getting precious about everything from a pinch too much salt to slightly undercooked mushrooms.

And yes, mum, MasterChef is reality television, so you can't say you're not sucked in too.

Now, it seems reality television has gone further.

It was mindless, and there was nothing wrong with that!

But something that started out as blissful escapism as we laughed at the ridiculousness of people who had actually applied to be on the shows in the first place has turned into some sort of magnifying glass on society as a whole.

And that's terrifying.

On Gogglebox every week, we watch people getting precious about reality television itself.

It's reality television; it's mindless filth.

On The Bachelorette this week, contestant Dave was getting precious about courting strategies.

You're courting the same girl as 11 other good-looking guys; it's mindless filth.

On social media this week, fans of The Block were getting pretty precious about someone's black toilet paper.

It's toilet paper; it's mindless filth.

I'm not saying we shouldn't be watching it.

My twice-a-week dates with Sam Frost would prove me a hypocrite if I was.

I'm just saying we need to see it for what it is.

The minute we start to take things too seriously, we begin to lose the fun that's associated with them.

Any Broncos fans would have learnt that the hard way this year.

Let's not let that happen with reality television.

Because that, in itself, would be pretty mindless.



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