Big Brudda

Big Brudda

Apparently the American version of this pile of tripe is about to start again this week.

I'm still waiting for someone to explain why anybody cares. Maybe the foreign readers get something more interesting but watching the American version on CBS is akin to creating the reaction a cow gets after getting an artificial insemination. I don't understand what the big deal is about watching a bunch of boring drones engage in mindless conversations in a kitchen and a living room. That gets interspersed with fascinating narrative from host Julie "Peacock" Chen who's biggest claim to fame was to avail her pubes to the right people who could further her moribund career - namely, CBS Television president Les Moonves (while he was married yet.) Of course, a reality show about how "Big Brother Les" and "meluvyoulongtimeaslongasyouhavepowerandabigmoneywill" Julie came to be would be a ratings bonanza. But, no. Instead, we get the "All Stars" edition where producers value the audience so much that they're only allowed to pick six of the twelve past contestants. I'm guessing the other six spots are saved for past contestants who put their best Julie Chen-like foot [coll.] forward, preferrably in some exec's trousers.

Or maybe summer is such a dead season for networks that they can keep throwing stuff like "Big Brother" out as long as the budgets stay cheap and there's a miilion or so people who eschew the fresh greenhouse-gassed air in favor of expanding their waistlines another couple of inches so liberal do-gooders have something new to whine about and demand new taxes for (except, of course, if it would also affect their own pockets.)

In the meantime, until "Big Brother" goes into actual intriguing things like live bathroom shots or do like the Australians and concoct interesting elements to the "game" as "turkey slapping" , I'll pass.

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