who's your what?

i have finally come to a place in my life where i am comfortable admitting that i have once again become something of a television junkie. there is so much fascinating and addicting programming these days i can't help myself. court tv, all of the law and orders, 200 pound tumors on discovery health...who can resist!? not this girl. but there is a line. still. last night i witnessed something that so dramatically obliterated the line that the line may never be seen again. we were surfing for something to bring us out of the funk that "saw" had left us in and we scrolled past reality tv. already a nightmare of a channel and one that is never selected in our household. i have always considered reality tv an excellent barometer for the obscenity and hypocrisy of our fine nation. deny it if you will, but i will never believe that this country's refusal to acknowledge the validity of my relationship is based on some kind of shared civic value that is not so much more desecrated by "who wants to marry my dad?" (god i have got to move away from this place!!!) anyway, that's a whole different rant. this morning's rage is reserved for a television show called "who's your daddy?" yes. i didn't make it up... i COULDN'T make it up. on this brilliant sample of exploi-tv, a young woman who is adopted at birth is confronted with several different men who are claiming to be her birth father. (i swear i am not making this up) apparently she spends some amount of time with each of these men and sustains the on-going trauma of not knowing combined now with the possibility of meeting several different men who, in the end, she may have wished had been her father but she will now just have to settle for genetics and hope that the X number of voyeuristic viewers (not to mention her actual biological father) did not witness the expression of disappointment on her face when the truth is revealed. for her trouble, apparently this poor sap can WIN 100,000 dollars. but only if she guesses right. i can't even begin to express my disgust. take me to temptation island any day if this is my other option! jan selected "who's your daddy" and let the filth play for a few minutes with a disturbed and stunned kind of expression on her face. eventually i said, "really, you have to turn this off." she did, and then she turned to me and said, "honey, you should go on there. win us some money!" isn't she precious? who knew that last night's television viewing held in store for me something more disturbing than "saw"?