The downside of winter break for a collegiate columnist is precisely that he's not a columnist for a month. Think of all the major issues that hit the front page this winter: the emergence of a nuclear threat in North Korea, President Bush's new tax plan, and -- for Cornell journalists -- the appointment of Jeffrey Lehman '77 to the University's presidency. However, I was attracted to issues that, to put it crudely, don't really matter to anyone. I was more frustrated that there would be no chance to discuss the emerging cultural significance of "wankstas," or no opportunity to examine the daring new artistic statement that Christina Aguilera has made by transforming herself into what's known in the common tongue as a "ho-bag."


Then again, this is my column, and if I feel like living in the past, if only for one week, I believe I have the prerogative to do so. On that note, I can say with utter conviction that Joe Millionaire is the most important program ever broadcast on television, just edging out the transmission from Apollo 12's lunar landing. It was a close call.


My first exposure to Joe Millionaire came in the form of an advertisement during a football game. Here's the throaty tagline that hooked me: "It's the new reality series with a sick twist. And who's bringing it to you??? FOX." It's nice how Fox's advertising department has the ability to tap into the basest human emotions; nothing gets me going like a good old fashioned sick twist on reality.


Unless you somehow had something better to do with your time than watch television during the past month, you would know that Joe Millionaire operates much like ABC's The Bachelor, except that Fox tells its female contestants that their bachelor has just inherited $50 million.The "sick twist" is that he's just an average Joe with an average income.


Okay, so maybe this show isn't the greatest cultural leap forward in the history of television programming, but if you ask me it's certainly a nice change from the predictable pace of reality TV. Consider Joey M.'s rival, The Bachelor, and his cookie cutter courting routine. The research I did for this column involved several hours of Bachelor reruns on the ABC family channel; you might call it "living vicariously," I call it "research."


In any case, The Bachelor is just too real for me. In one episode from the most recent series, the stud described his selection process while visiting the families of his girlfriends: "I'd like to garner enough pertinent information from these visits to help me make some important distinctions that will come in handy for when I make my final judgment." Granted, it's not an exact quote, but whatever he said in the first place was so boring I couldn't remember it. How does Joey M. make his "final judgments?" He makes women shovel horse crap for him. Forget that this guy isn't clever enough to come up with a middle name for himself, that's what I call television.


I'm sick of plain ol' reality TV. I don't watch television because I want to watch real people doing real things. If I were interested in that, I would just spend more time living my life. What I need is more of this new brand of augmented reality TV. I have to hand it to Fox on this one: it's that sick twist on what's real that sparks my interest.


Maybe Joe Millionaire could maybe even press the envelope a little further. Maybe on top of that bogus $50 million dollar inheritance, the ladies would eventually find out that Joey M. is actually already engaged. Or maybe, he could be a fake heterosexual as well as a fake millionaire. Or even better, the producers could throw in a little bit of Shakespearean tragedy by choosing a bachelor who only has one year left to live. I wonder how Ms. Right would react to that. Personally, I would be like, "like whoa."


Just a quick glance at the list of upcoming reality television series like Celebrity Mole, The Surreal Life, and several others starring washed-up celebrities is proof that straight reality is no longer enough to capture our attention. People watch television in the first place because they want something more interesting than reality.


Of course you could argue that this trend in reality TV is nothing new; the most successful reality series of the past few years have relied on the reality that real reality just isn't cool enough for reality TV. Survivor is a perfect example. Except for that one time that I was marooned in the middle of the Congo and then forced to compete in bizarre jungle competitions in order to win a game show, I'm not quite sure if Survivor echoes real experiences.


Even MTV's The Real World, which may have stayed true to its title in early seasons, has since evolved into an augmented real world. The most recent season saw its "real" cast members (who resemble real-life Abercrombie & Fitch models if you ask me) living it up and hooking up with each other like a bunch freaky cult members in a Las Vegas casino hotel room for six months. If that's the real world, I might actually take my parents advice and finally join it.


With that in mind, Fox is right on track with Joe Millionaire. Reality TV is only interesting so long as it is more exciting then what's really happening around us -- if it wasn't then our own realities would be the more popular form of entertainment. Then again, maybe I'm wrong and it's just that nobody wants to get off the couch.


Mark Harrison is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at msh35@cornell.edu. Off the Mark will appear Mondays this semester.

Archived article by Mark Harrison