I hate the Heene family. I hope a tornado comes and spits the parents into a large mass of water, and drops the kids safely into the arms of DCFS.
As we all know from the countless “hilarious” Kanye West-tinged Facebook statuses, the Heene family of Colorado attempted to fool the police and media into believing that they thought their son had floated off in a balloon like Alvin and the goddamn Chipmunks. Then, insert WAH WAH WAH WAHHH music here, turns out he was in the attic the whole time. Super adorable to the max! Right? No.
After the son totally botched his lines, we found out that it was a hoax. These sickening people, who appeared on the ultra-sickening Wife Swap, were just using their adorable children to score themselves a reality show. And honestly, why wouldn’t they? We’ve made it so easy for them.
Look any supermarket checkout line magazine right now. Those worthless piece of shit Gosselins, those even more worthless Kardashians and those festering blisters from The Hills. Ad this whole thing started so innocently, with a young blonde with a dream and a not-so-fresh feeling with problem feminine itching.
Her name was Paris Hilton. She had a famous last name, a brain fit for fingerpainting and little else and a lot of daddy issues that led her to get drunk and dance on tables. That was how she first found her way into our lives. She had a friend, Nicole Richie, who had a famous last name, a brain that was kind of awesome and funny and a drug history that would make Nikki Sixx blush. And she was a little fat. Naturally, the powers that be handed them a TV show.
Of course then followed a sex tape and Nicole Richie becoming roughly the size of a candle wick, but lest we forget, they had a TV program in the can before all that. All they had to do was be born, basically.
From there, things got easier. The rich and famous were getting reality shows all the time, certainly, but in the wake of Paris and Nicole, so were the famous-by-association. Ashlee Simpson was handed a show for being the sister of a celebrity. Some people called Gastineau got a show because the dad played football or something. Tommy Hilfiger’s daughter had a show for a quick minute there, and a bunch of dumb rich teenagers whose parents invented Yahoo or Yoohoo or the Yo-Yo got sent to a cattle farm.
After that, a famous last name was no longer necessary.
Three blonde Playboy models were given a show because they claimed to have sex with a really, really old guy. The Kardashians were given a show because the one with the big ass got pissed on by Moesha’s brother. Jon and Kate were given a show because Kate used her vagina as a clown car. Ditto on the Duggars. Real housewives of all manner of locale were given shows for overpaying for poorly done implants and restylane. And we’re not even to the general fuckery of the competition shows yet. The Wife Swaps and the Nexts and the Date My Moms and what have you.
By the way, did you know Joe Millionaire was only six years ago? Doesn’t it seem like it was from such a simple time?
Of course it does. Save for a few NutraSystem commercials from three or four years back, we haven’t had to lay eyes on any of those people. When was the last time you saw or thought of the Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire chick, Darva Conger? I mean, if you asked me about Darva Conger before I’d hit Wiki a minute ago, I would have thought she was one of Clinton’s bevy, post-Gennifer Flowers, pre-Paula Jones. But now, we’re supposed to actually care about the people who appear in this cheap filler.
The only pre-Hills batch you actually ever see in magazines? Trista and Ryan from The Bachelorette. They just keep trying. They have kids for the sole purpose of losing weight and posing in bathing suits, then they disappear for a few years.
Nowadays, they all have the gumption of a Trista and a Ryan. They desperately want the fame. They call paparazzi when they’re out, they walk around The Ivy like it’s a food bank, they fake weddings and relationships and cheating and drama, and they will show up to the opening of a Circle K in Poughkeepsie. And it’s working.
So why wouldn’t some random family in the Rockies give it a go? Sure, they’re facing criminal charges now (hopefully involving jail sentences, otherwise that six year old would probably receive such daily spankings that his ass would fall off). But criminal charges just mean more press! Yay press! Yay fame! Yay for not having to do actual work and better myself as a human being in any way shape or form!
When did the whole world become Roxie Hart in Chicago? I hate people. Please make it stop.
Courtney Enlow is a writer living in Chicago and working as a corporate shill to pay the bills. You can contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.