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Send your comments about TV -- reality or un -- to ELinerTV@aol.com. And check out my other blog: PhantomProf.blogspot.com.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Oh, that Oprah. She giveth and she taketh away. Yesterday she gaveth about $5000 worth of loot to each lucky member of her congregation, er, audience. Shrieking, waving and dancing in place, like redeemed sinners at a pentecostal revival meeting, the Oprah crowd thanked the lord and Oprah (not necessarily in that order) for their cashmere Ralph Lauren cableknits, pink and blue Ugg boots (ugh is right), electronic gewgaws, high-priced bath products and smoked turkeys. Somehow, at this particular moment in the national conversation, Oprah's "ain't I grand for bein' so damn rich?" giveaway was an absolutely nauseating spectacle of self-aggrandizement, over-consumption of trendy crapola and out of control celebrity worship.

Today Oprah interviews a woman whose face was burned off. Think she'll walk away from Harpo studios with any sweaters, boots or palm pilots? Or is having Oprah air her tragic story reward enough, I wonder.

Little to say about "Average Joe" or "Joe Millionaire Part Deux." Both of these shows committed the biggest reality tv crime of all -- changing the rules mid-game. Bringing the trio of hunklets onto "Average." Letting the ousted Linda back on "JM" to cash in on her willingness to sleep with a monosyllabic cowboy. When he said, "The last time I seen her...." Well, that about says it all. He's Joe Below Average.

Thursday, November 20, 2003

So Bob picks Estella. Toward the end of this "Bachelor" go-round, that Kelly Jo, th perky little cheerleader from Kalamazoo, got too, too, too confident. She scared Bob. She scared his mom. She scared me! So he went with the safer choice, albeit one with a weird nose and a helium-sucking voice. I predict no wedding-during-sweeps special for Bob and Estella. His soulmate is still out there in TV land somewhere.

I've given up on "Average Joe." Once they trotted in the lookers, it was all over. I hate when shows set up their rules and then proceed to break them. And faced with three lumpy hoagies and some slick club sandwiches (with chips!), what woman wouldn't order a club? With chips!

It all makes me tired. Bob's rat-a-tat laugh. Estella's whiny baby talk. Where are the grown-ups on these shows? Why doesn't anyone ever ask the prospective mate: How much money do you make? What's your religion? When did you lose your virginity and how? Have you ever visited Neverland and did you sleep with Michael Jackson when you were 9? How about politics -- who'd you vote for in the last presidential election? Do you like mayo or mustard on your burgers? What's your favorite Andy Griffith show episode? (a true test of character)

They never have any substantive conversations. Just breezy crap about "the journey" and how "ameeeeezing" each other is and how "awesome" the scenery is outside the limo-boat-copter.

Makes the mumblings of Ally Hilfiger sound downright poetic.

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

The Satan-worshipping dogs who run Comcast Cable in Dallas have just about destroyed my TV-viewing schedule. Constant outages. And during sweeps! Does Nielsen know about this? Oh, the humanity!

Caught "Joe Millionaire" just in time to see the Cameron Diaz-like slice of Eurotrash named Olinda getting the boot (and how appropriate is that in Italy?). Are all women in Europe as greasy and rude as this bambina? Her finest attribute was the talent to smoke, chew gum and drink in her sleep. When she was awake, she was complaining or working on her suntan. Bye-bye, Olinda. Head back to the alley behind the brothel whence you were born.

"Rich Girls" is horrible-beautiful in so many ways. Jamie, the 18-going-on-50 "honors student," thinks Ben Franklin invented the lightbulb. Her pal Ally Hilfiger, daughter of the twit "who invented cargo pants," says that in a past life she hopes she was a tree. Well, dahling, we know you weren't Marie Curie. And frankly, trees have higher IQs than either of these over-pampered Park Avenue wenches. When they're not drinking, smoking and chewing gum (cue Olinda!), they shopping for high-priced threads and riding around in limos complimenting themselves for "being nice to the help." These two make Jessica Simpson look like... hmmm...Madeleine Albright?

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

Mark Burnett's messing with my head, man. On the CBS teleconference Friday, he admitted that his inspiration for this season's "Survivor" was "Pirates of the Caribbean." Thus, the pirate theme, the back-from-the-dead return of the ousted castaways. Burnett tries to stay one or 20 steps ahead of the competition -- and of the viewers who think they've figured out "Survivor" and its tactics. And that's why this show's so good. By the way, Osten? You're a puss. You big guys with muscles never make it on this show. Osten now holds the dubious honor of being the first contestant ever to walk away from "Survivor." And he walked away whining.

"Rich Girls"? Yowza. You'd think with all that money, Jamie and Ally would be cuter. Three grand for a prom dress? If only my dad had invented cargo pants.

"Joe Average"? Those network people need to get out into middle America more often. These guys aren't such oddballs. They look like 99 percent of the male populace. Bald, a little chubby, nearsighted, clumsy. Welcome to my world. The George Costanzas outnumber the Evan Marriott's a million to one. These are the men who are husband material, girls. These are the guys who won't screw around, won't have midlife crises, will keep a job, will be good dads, will give you nice jewelry on your anniversary. Salt of the earth, these fellows. And I say, bring 'em on! Milena should be so lucky as to land one of these gents. The Rob Campos types could hold a candle to them.