[Note: It will be incredibly difficult to compose this post without copious amounts of swearing. I will do my best.]
We don’t have TV, and after last night’s season finale of The Apprentice, our choice to forego it is re-affirmed. We get together with a few friends on Thursday nights to partake of this orgy of corporate glorification, and up until last evening, it was a source of delight and light-hearted amusement. If you are not familiar with the last two seasons, I’ll tell you that the previous winners were two young, good-looking white guys (they could’ve doubled as bookends) who were put in charge of building the new Trump Tower Chicago (first season winner) and the development of Trump’s multi-building, high-rise apartment project in Manhattan (second season) as their rewards.
This season, the two finalists were women. About 3/4 of the way through the show, The Donald revealed the two projects he had selected as options for the winner, whoever she might be. The first was planning next year’s Miss Universe Pageant. The second was overseeing the renovation of his newest house in Palm Beach. That’s right, folks. The white guys get to build skyscrapers, and the girls get to plan exploitative contests or play interior designer.
I think it goes without saying that I will not be watching The Apprentice next season. I invite you to join me in my boycott (another great free-market tradition). I’m thinking of starting a sewing circle instead, and you’re all invited.
-ah
I guess the only funny part to me is the part where you expected a healthy progressive attitude toward women from the Donald.
You might yell at the dog for crapping in the kitchen, but it’s not like you’re suprised when he does it. He’s a dog; he craps in the kichen.
TV is vacuous. I avoid it. Sewing hurts my fingertips. No calluses. Is there a third option?
I know. You’re thinking, who’s this guy & what is he doing here? I was wandering around tallskinnykiwi.com looking for the chips & salsa & stumbled into here. Don’t worry. I won’t break anything. Hey! What’s this do… Ooops…
Well, I would expect The Donald’s HANDLERS to at least attempt to urge him to pick less inflammatory (from the feminist’s point of view, and I’m fuming too, sister) tasks.
I don’t see it as progressive to pick gender-neutral tasks for his apprentices, really. I would’ve been impressed with the progressiveness of such an idea in the 80s, perhaps…
But then, I kind of hate reality TV, though the lowness of thinking so often displayed makes me feel rather airy and high-minded in comparison, which is all bullocks. I’m about as high-minded as Cousin Eddie in Christmas Vacation. “Snot, you roll over and let Uncle Clark scratch your belly!”