Go Away, Kim Kardashian

It never fails.

Moments after flipping the telly on, my ears are assaulted with news that Kim Kardashian is looking to grace the world of politics with her presence. No, stop it Kim, Glendale doesn’t need you to run for mayor. Schwarzenegger’s name is already embarrassingly plastered all over my hard-earned college degree. California doesn’t need another Hollywood star fanning themselves with money while making decisions on what shade of beige to paint a new strip mall.

Why is Kim famous anyways? Someone once explained to me that shows like Jersey Shore and Keeping Up with the Kardashians are popular in for the same reasons that people have historically been drawn to travelling circuses. They’re weird, unpredictable, and involve activities that sensible folk who worry about credit card APRs and health insurance will just not participate in. We put on our sweatpants, sit down in front of the TV, and basically watch other people act like weirdos.

I can’t say I have ever met a single person who has openly proclaimed their love and defense for such reality shows. Usually their viewing admission begins in the form of an apology. “I am so ashamed, but did anyone watch how many people Snookie made out with last night? I mean dang girl, come up for some air!” An intense conversation will then ensue, followed by everyone’s desire for the entire cast to one day end up homeless.

People revel in a good car chase, news disaster, and reality show. It’s human nature to compare oneself to others and form an opinion of our own sanity based off what we see. “Thank goodness I’m not the driver of that baby shower blue Prius barreling down Sunset Boulevard with a kilo of cocaine and a panda in the trunk,” we tell ourselves. Crazy people. I wonder who else is watching this?”

People love a great debate. Maybe crazy reality shows and news stories is a way of bringing people closer together. I suppose if every show on TV was politically correct and morally sound, society would always be driven to compensate for the void. How about a Big Fat Gypsy Wedding?

Oh wait.