I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about why we want a President and Vice-President who are ”just like us” and how this criteria is acceptable in our culture. Sure, it’s great to have someone to whom we can relate. Although I’m not the #1 Obama fan in the world, his story is compelling and relatable: someone who’s bi-racial, doesn’t really know his father, grows up with the support of his grandparents in Hawaii. He’s not your average, rich white kid from the east coast. He is more representative of my generation than any Presidential nominee before. His identity and history falls somewhere in the middle, just like many of us do now (and have in the past). It makes me want to listen and hear what he has to say.
But if Obama was dumb as shit, I could give a rat’s ass if his story sounded inspiring. Sure, he’d make a great role model, someone to help me reach my own potential and realize I can make my dreams happen too. But luckily, he does have the experience of being either a state representative or senator for the past 12 years; plus… dare I say it… his years as a community organizor. His speeches are insightful, his rhetoric is inspiring, he has gotten the youth excited for the first time in my lifetime, and if you can count the way he’s run his campaign as a measure of success, I feel pretty confident in his ability to work with a large organization that is greater than himself.
But I don’t want to talk about Obama. I want to talk about my arch-nemesis, Sarah Palin, and why her popularity is directly correlated to the success of American Idol, America’s Next Top Model, and other reality competition shows.
In this new era of television that began in 1999/2000 with Survivor and Temptation Island, two competitions simultaneously occur during each reality show that comes our way. There is Competition #1, the competition that is the purpose of the show. Eating dead worms, posing for Nigel Barker on a sandy lagoon, losing 15lbs by the next weigh-in, and getting Japanese people to draw a mustache on your face with a Sharpie marker. These are the plots that drive the shows and are used to differentiate one from another.
But Competition #2 is often more powerful than the purpose of the show; this is the race to see with whom America will fall in love with the most. We love stories we can relate to: the person who lost a parent and is competing in their memory; the person who had a skin disease that cleared up only recently and inspired them to model; the person who is on welfare while supporting a child and has the voice of ten Ella Fitzgeralds put together; the person who acquired AIDS but hides the disease so he isn’t treated differently by his cast-mates. These stories are what end up selling the show, and many times, choosing a winner.
We are a country founded, created and surving by underdogs. We are annoyed when someone, who thinks they deserve what they want, gets it. We want to see people work hard, make sacrafices and overcome obstacles. We want to know they are not robots and have feelings. We want them to represent obscure towns in obscure states. We want them to be just like your neighbor, brother, sister, niece or nephew, teacher or partner.
And this mentality for reality television, this concept that the winner doesn’t have to be the best at the competition as long as they win our hearts, is exactly why Sarah Palin is still in this race. We can no longer discern between celebrities: reality tv stars, Hollywood actors and politicians. All are being held by the same principles as reality television characters. It doesn’t matter if the person sincerely is the most qualified for the job; what matters is if you can relate to them as a contestant/applicant/leader.
Soon as we start focusing on Competition #1 again, people will realize Sarah Palin is not cut out for the job. If you received the job description for the Vice President and 2 resumes without names, I’m pretty sure most people would choose Biden. But Sarah Palin is purposely representing every “hockey mom” and “kid with special needs” to get those votes for people who stay tuned from Tuesday night to Wednesday to see if their favorite contestant was kicked off American Idol.
Sarah Palin is the Sanjaya of American politics and it’s time for her to go.
3 Comments
Nice writing style. I look forward to reading more in the future.
Thank you for putting in to words what I have been thinking. When I am asked about Sarah Palin, I get so irate that I end up coming off like Sarah during her Katie Couric interview coupled John McCain-ish outbursts of anger and creepy facial expressions.
That’s how I was for a while too. I’m still pretty irate just thinking about her (blood pressure currently rising), but I’m just hoping this week turns out to be awesome.