The Cocktail Party Primer (Episode #7)

They Voted Me Off Kid Nation and All I Got was This Lousy Complex

Either I’m feeling cranky because the martini I’m drinking isn’t nearly as icy as it’s supposed to be, or a lot of stuff sucked this week. Of course, I shouldn’t have expected much from a week that kicked off with the Primetime Emmys and then moved on to Lord of the Flies, I mean, Kid Nation. If they’d just gone ahead and debuted Cavemen, it would have been like the Triple Crown of Suck. Luckily, all the TV I really care about gets going next week. Until then, this is what went down on TV, in all its ignominious glory, on the ol’ boob tube this week.

• Apparently, the Emmys were boring. Really? No way! I would never have guessed. Or perhaps I might have. Not that it takes a crystal ball and a connection to the great beyond to guess that a televised award show hosted by Ryan Seacrest and featuring such edge of your seat categories as Directing for a Miniseries, Movie or a Dramatic Special might be a bit dull. What I didn’t see coming was the way the Fox word police would wield their censorship button, but maybe I should have. As everybody knows, no one poses a more serious threat to our morals and our delicate, virginal ears than that filth-spewing shockmeister Sally Field. Thank God I chose to spend Emmy night wearing earplugs and drinking gin in a bar so I wouldn’t have to depend on the Fox censors to protect me from her immoral influence. With a mouth like Field’s, I knew it was better not to take any chances.

• The only thing I can figure is that the producer’s for The View thought Elizabeth Hasselbeck must be lonely. It must have been hard for her as not only the show’s resident conservative, but also as just about the dumbest person on TV. So they got her a little friend! This week, new The View-ista Sherri Shepherd expressed uncertainty as to whether the Earth was flat or not. She sounds like the perfect cohort for the woman of Hasselbeck’s particular mental acuity. I bet after the taping everyday they go out and set flaming bags of dog poo on Al Gore’s doorstep, ring the buzzer, run, and then just laugh themselves silly.

• Amid a storm of moral and legal concerns, Kid Nation finally aired. Questions of child labor laws and bad parenting choices aside, the show kind of blew. The kids fought, cried, competed for gold stars, and went rabbit hunting in a fake Old West village while surrounded by cameras. So, you know, it was just like real life. Assuming that your childhood involved competing for the love of your elders in the most cruel and sadistic way possible as part of an obvious attempt to parlay the experience into 15 minutes of fame in commercials, or possibly the Disney Channel. Finally, a TV show that really speaks to what is was like growing up for all those poor kids in High School Musical.

• In other news of the suck, Gossip Girl premiered, and with the exception of three-dozen preteen girls somewhere in Connecticut and, reluctantly, our esteemed host here at GMMR, it was generally reviled (Note: I don’t think Mostly Martha was reading the reviews if the GMMRers, many of whom seem to love this show). As someone who loved that apotheosis of teen-oriented soap drama, Beverly Hills 90210, this did not surprise me. I already lived through the trials and tribulations of those Walsh twins from Wayzata, Minnesota, and there’s no droom left in my heart for another group of melodramatic, spoiled teenagers. Without the stirrup pants, teased bangs, and Luke Perry smoldering so hard that it influences a whole generation of girls’ sexuality, Gossip Girls leaves me cold. It’s like the show is to 90210 as lizard in a sweater is to a fluffy little kitten, just a pale imitation.

• What would you get if you combined the subtly and romance of VH1’s Celebreality with MySpace’s sophisticated aesthetic? Flava Flav and Danny Bonaduce making out with each other and flashing their naughty bits in front of a screen filled with sparkly GIFs of dancing kittens while a Panic! at the Disco song plays in the background? That would be awesome, but alas, no. Instead, you get A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila. Judging by the promo released this week, we’re all in for a treat. My only advice is this: if you choose to watch, please engage safe viewing practices. You’ll need to wrap your body in latex and thoroughly disinfect the television afterward. With a show this trashy, there’s no telling what you could catch.

Martha Smith is a San Francisco-based freelance writer and editor. She writes mostly about food, TV, and other things that can be enjoyed while sitting down.