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Reality TV gets Trumped

Let's get right to it.

I don't watch much TV, but is there a better show on the tube right now than The Apprentice? Being able to watch whatever it is on Donald Trump's head every week for an hour is a personal highlight. Is it a wig? Or is it just a nasty combover? Mark my words -- they'll still be debating this for years to come.

For those who don't watch the show, let me explain the basic premise: There are two groups of about 10, separated into men and women. Trump assigns both groups various business tasks -- for example, in the first episode they had to sell lemonade. One of the squads is deemed the winner, after which a member from the losing team is "fired" by Trump and his cronies. The last woman standing gets some high-paying, do-nothing job.

I say woman because, unsurprisingly, the men have dropped the first two assignments rather embarrassingly. I love, too, how surprised the men look when they're told that they've lost once again. I mean, before the show even started I could have told you the women would dominate -- this was the easiest call ever. The fact remains that women are generally better than men in everything. Everything. Too bad I'm not a betting man, because I could clean up on this.

The "How soon until Sam is fired?" countdown began in the show's first few minutes, and it's still going. This guy is unbelievable. If you don't watch the show, and if you don't, I question while you're still reading, but anyways, this guy is probably four-foot nothing and absolutely worthless. In the first episode he managed to strike out completely as a lemonade salesman. It was one of those cringe-inducing situations that had you switching to the Cartoon Network just to feel better about life before flipping back and watching this short guy in a suit pleading with surly New Yorkers to pay a quarter for his lousy lemonade. Classic, classic stuff.

And in the second episode, Sam allegedly fell asleep on the job. I say allegedly because I don't think he did, but he wanted everyone to think he did. This course of action violates the second rule of reality TV, which is: Don't pretend like you don't care. I mean, come on -- you're on a television show that you know is going to be seen by millions of people, and you're fighting for your livelihood. Don't pretend like you do this every day. I'll bet my life the guy was screaming on the inside every second the camera was on him.

For those of you wondering what the first rule of reality TV is, it's: Never drink alcohol. Ever. The alcohol will eventually wear off, but the reruns never stop.

Sam somehow avoided the axe in the first two episodes, probably due to some behind-the-scenes producer conspiracy, because the guy is constant hilarity.

As soon as Sam is out, I, along with the rest of America, will probably lose interest in the show altogether. But until then, we'll all be in this together, along for the ride.



Web posted on Thursday, January 22, 2004


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