Sniff Off

Barstool already has this one covered.

Screen Shot 2013-03-20 at 2.28.18 PM

A new low indeed.

Advertisements

Reality TV in 2013 is a lot like 90’s WWF

I had a realization last night: Reality TV of today is a lot like WWF in the early 90’s. Big personalities, big role in pop culture. And most importantly: People don’t realize (or don’t admit) that it’s scripted.

What will happen when they do? I’m sure some folks will continue to watch, with a wink and a grin. Wrestling actually peaked in popularity in large part because they admitted the stories were scripted.  Now, I liken it to a male soap opera as performed by ethnically diverse stuntmen in their undies.

But how will the reality TV game adjust once that veil crumbles? Will folks still watch, knowing that Honey Boo Boo is put up to all she does? That the Housewives of Random Top 10 Media Market are being told to fight by their faceless producers and idiocratic enablers?

doink and boo boo

I don’t have the answer. What I do know is that the state of pop culture can’t go on forever as is, and that’s a good thing.

You Stay Classy, CNN.

Apparently, this is news in 2012:

Coming up next, Khloe Kardashian will blow bubbles through a straw.

Beef Supreme

 

Why “NFL Experts” Don’t Matter

Image

Image

Image

Image

Image

No such thing as a sure thing.

Chasing Idiocracy

The mainstream press is beginning to realize that idiocracy is pervasive in today’s pop culture.  Kevin McDonough of the United Features Syndicate hit the nail on the head in his article “National Geographic Joins Cable’s Idiocracy,” about the new show “Chasing UFOs:”

There was a time when the words National Geographic stood for something: science, research and a commitment to discovery. For National Geographic to lend its name and logo to something so tawdry, unoriginal and dull deeply saddens me.

Sure, it’s disappointing to see the History Channel churn out vulgar anti-intellectual programming that has nothing to do with the study of the past. And let’s not even think about how Lifetime has morphed from vague feminism to shows celebrating spunky hookers in massage parlors. But those are mere cable outlets.

Nat Geo has been around for more than a century. The desecration of its “brand” is corporate vandalism at its thoughtless, shortsighted worst.

 
As a marketer, I agree 100% about what this could do to Nat Geo’s brand in the minds of a traditional TV audience. But given the state of entertainment in 2012 and the prevalence of trashy reality TV, this may be a case of “if a tree falls in the woods.”  If you commit brand suicide by slapping your logo on speculative sensationalism, but your audience is too delirious to call you on it, does it really matter?
Beef Supreme is Editor-in-Chief of the Idiocratic Post.

Sludge of Consciousness: Do YOU Know Who Paul McCartney Is?

At some point in the future, Twitter will be looked back upon as an important milestone in the development of mass communication and a precursor to whatever new medium had taken its place.  Think about how Prodigy and AOL paved the way for the online experience we have today.  My guess is we’ll have some sort of biotechnology medium that pulls our actual thoughts into a Twitter-esque channel.  Why type if you can just THINK?  (Don’t look at me like that — it’s actually not that far-fetched.)

I digress.  Because of microblogging, we have an instant gauge as to what’s happening, literally, right now, anywhere in the world.  It’s stream-of-consciousness stuff and it’s not transmitted through the filter of some news company.  Very valuable.

What’s scary, though, is that Twitter is often a SLUDGE of consciousness, showing us exactly how stupid the general population is.  And what’s apparent is that we’re in for an unholy clusterfuck of death when these morons take the reigns of society.  NOTHING is sacred.

During the Grammy’s last night, a plethora of tweets asked one inexcusably ridiculous question: Who is Paul McCartney?

Now, forgive me if I’m jumping to conclusions here, but I personally believe that if you DON’T know who Paul McCartney is; you DON’T EVEN TRY to look him up on the Internet when you’ve got a million years of information in the palm of your hands; and YOU CLAMOR INSTEAD for LIL B THE BASE GOD… you should be put down like a dog.  IMMEDIATELY.

I’ve noted in the past that your social media presence is a projection of your ideal self image. You don’t share videos because they are funny, but because they make YOU seem funny.  We can apply that same logic to someone who tweets “Who the fuck is Paul McCartney?” before looking him up.  It’s not that you just don’t know, it’s that you don’t WANT to know.  And you want OTHERS to know that you don’t want to know.  In fact, you’d prefer some Lil B the Base God.

Maybe it’s me.  Maybe this is the first time I’m really feeling like the old man on the porch, yelling at skateboarders and drinking PBR.  But I honestly believe that this is exactly what’s wrong with the world today.  These people are living, breathing proof that idiocracy is an inevitability, not just an idea.  It physically makes me sick to know we live in a world where people don’t care to know the difference between pop-bullshit artists and one of  the most influential musicians of all time.

Beef Supreme is Editor-in-Chief of the Idiocratic Post.

On Sports

As  a Jets fan, I’m in a dark place with lots of questions and very few answers.  For the first time ever, I will not watch the Super Bowl.  But I love football.  So, how did I get to this point?

There are many factors.  For one, it’s the gluttony of “what Jets fans should do on Sunday” articles that keep popping up.  Right now, the media has a sick interest in the plight of the Jets fanbase, sort of like rubber-necking a bad car accident, caused in large part by the team’s brash brand image, penchant for big talk and ensuing collapse. All things considered, I keep coming back to one big question.

What does it really mean to be a fan?

I’ve been an athlete for a long time.  10 years of organized football, 4 years of collegiate rugby and countless pickup games.  In each case, I was a fan of the team I played for.  I wanted to win, because it proved that we, the team, were better than the other team.  I was mad when we lost.

But what if I’m not involved in the game?  How does fanhood extend from a professional sports team to an average joe like me who is not participating?  Should I be happy when “my” team wins?  Rather, should I really be MAD when they lose?  Does being a FAN of a winning team make someone better than the FANS of the other team?

And what makes them “my” team to begin with?

Typically, it’s based on geography.  If you’re from, let’s say, Pittsburgh, you root for the Steelers.  But most of the players aren’t from Pittsburgh.  In fact, maybe none of them are from Pittsburgh.  They are playing in the game, so sure, they’re  rooting for their themselves, just like you or I would.  But are they rooting for Pittsburgh?  Do they even give a shit what city they’re in?

Is it possible that perhaps fans place more importance on a game as it relates to their city than the players do?  Does sports success have any implication on how “great” a city is?  Or are we better suited making that judgement based on actual attributes, like free parking?

After a certain period of time, fandom is no longer about where you’re located.  Instead, it’s based on the fact that you’ve “followed the team for a while.”  If after 20 years you move from Pittsburgh to Phoenix , you still root for the Steelers.  You have  a passing interest in the Arizona Cardinals, but they don’t have the esteemed winning tradition that your city of Pittsburgh has, so your fanaticism is minimal at best.  “Phoenix doesn’t even have a Primanti Bros.,” you think to yourself as you enter the double doors of an old, creaky saloon.   “Do they even have cardinals in the desert?  At least we [used to] have men who work[ed] the steel mills.”  You view Cardinals fans as awkward, out of touch and a little sad.  Even if they’re from Phoenix.

But who are you to judge in this capacity?  Is it because you’re a Pittsburgh fan? Because the Steelers have a “winning tradition?”  You’ve somehow earned the right to gloat based on the success of your “blue-collar” franchise, made up of millionaires from Florida, Texas and California, who would be totally fine with playing in Pittsburg, KS, if the salary was the same?  Remember, you don’t play for Pittsburgh… you were just born there.  And regardless of how hard you’ve rooted over the years, or what superstitious traditions you’ve kept up, the odds are that aside from the occasional false start due to loudness, your fandom has had zero impact on the outcome of the games.

Fan allegiance is not always about geography though.  Let’s not forget about the folks who determined their rooting interests based on who was good when they were kids.  (Heathens!)  I’m talking about the 49ers, Cowboys and Patriots fans scattered across the country because those teams had extended success in the 80’s, 90’s and 2000’s, respectively.  Think about it – ever met a Seahawks fan in New York?  What about a Jaguars fan in San Francisco?  The success of a franchise can give birth to legions of fans, with no relation to geography.  Outside of football, the same can be said for the Yankees, Lakers, Bulls and Celtics.

On the other side of the coin, there are teams that suffer from an awful brand image due to years of ineptitude, poor image, bad management or some combination of the three.    These teams don’t have legions of fans across the country.  Instead, they’ve fostered disrespect and sometimes pity from America’s fans.  I’m looking at you, Cincinnati Bengals, New York Jets and Philadelphia Eagles.  Basketball fan? How about the NBA’s LA Clippers or Minnesota Timberwolves.  Why on earth would anyone root for these teams?  Are they mental?  Do they like pain?  Is heartbreak an aphrodisiac?  Why didn’t they just pick the Lakers or Patriots when they had the chance?

The one shimmer of hope is that things can change overnight.  Look no further than the 2009 New Orleans Saints.

Some might argue that it doesn’t really matter HOW you picked your team, as long as you’re a “true fan.”  What the hell does that mean?  And more importantly, is it really worth it?

Is it being an insufferable die-hard?  You’re frequently spotted at your local sports bar wearing your lucky jersey with a pitcher of light beer close by.  You missed a game during the birth of your 1st son, but not the 2nd or 3rd.  Your season tickets cost more than your mortgage.  Is that really healthy behavior?  Your fanaticism plays into your personal brand, but does it really reflect who you are as a person?  Does anyone really give a shit who you root for?

Is it knowing everyone on the roster, past and present?  Say you can rattle off every Saints QB since 2000.  Say you OWN a Billy Joe Hobert jersey.  Were you entitled to more joy when the Saints won Super Bowl XLIV than any of the casual fans?  You might think so, but my guess is that everyone in New Orleans had an awesome time that night.  Sure, you may have broken down in tears, telling everyone about how you sat through 3-13 seasons with a bag over your head, but it doesn’t really matter.  People are still going to enjoy it just as much as you.

My gut says we’re better suited viewing teams as brands, because that’s what they are.  Do you think the Giants or Patriots really give a shit about the people of New York or Boston?  Not in the slightest.  Neither do the Jets, Yankees or Red Sox.

That’s what I tell myself anyway, and I still can’t bear to watch this game.

It’s pro sports and it ain’t got no soul.

Beef Supreme is Editor-in-Chief of the Idiocratic Post.