I’ll admit it. I’m not too good for reality TV. I watch Survivor pretty regularly and a few others randomly. The Biggest Loser isn’t too bad, though I get so hungry watching them work out. Wife Swap has its moments, especially when there’s a mommy cat fight at the end. Nanny 911 is fine television.

Last week, I watched American Idol, because they were running the auditions of the bad singers. The Paris Hilton wannabes and the nerdy guys with their pants hitched up too high warbled the high notes and made the judges shudder. That’s fun; the next part is uncomfortable.

Their utter cluelessness about their lack of talent is part of the joke, too. After a crushingly bad performance, they’ll look at the judges waiting to hear approval and instead are crushed with a rude remark like “you should shave your beard and become a female impersonator.” The contestants run sobbing out of the room, and everyone titters.

Like witnessing a train wreck, it’s hard to turn away.

Ryan Seacrest, that asshole, patrols the waiting room interviewing the contestants and you realize that this contest is the world for these people. It’s American Idol or Dairy Queen. They’ve got nothing else. Nobody says, “Well, if I don’t make Idol, it’s medical school for me”. American Idol is their Hail Mary Shot. How pathetic.

If American Idol showcases the pathetic, the Bachelor is host for the desperate. A bunch of girls throw themselves at the feet of one guy with an enormous ego. They bite and kick to get a chance to tell the hot stud that he’s the light of their light. They compose poetry for him. “Oh, I didn’t think I was going to fall,” cooed one bimbo last night, “but I’m a smitten kitten.” Eeew. Anybody else puking?

I’m not sure what the lessons of these shows are. Always have a Plan B? Get a college degree or you’re screwed? Assume that you’re ugly and talentless, so that you aren’t surprised by rejection? Write blog posts instead of turning on the TV? Maybe all of above.