Why I Don’t Give A Crap About Jersey Shore

Since the mid nineties, reality television has become the new wave of entertainment.

It has reshaped the way we think of television – they even had to create a new Emmy category for it, because you know we can’t over look the real contribution a show like Amazing Race has made to our society.

There is some reality TV that is redeemable…but other than a few shows here or there…The Dog Whisperer, the Loud’s on An American Family…I find most of reality television repulsive.

Aside from the more obvious reasons, one is that I work in television, and I’ve seen a lot of my friends, very talented writers and actors, lose work because their shows have been replaced by mindless crap.

Now, not all TV shows that were on the air prior to the reality boom were prize winners. I’ll admit there was some real trash and real boring banal crap. But it seems that the networks today are in a race to create the worst show ever. It’s the ‘Springtime for Hitler’ contest come to life.

VH1 is a prime example. Once upon a time, VH1 was a network that I worked for. They aired music programming, an occasional comedy variety show or game show, and the hit documentary series Behind the Music. Now VH1 is in a contest with itself to give America a cold sore.

If I have to read about another rock bus show laden with desperate skunk haired Jerry Springer rejects, vying for five seconds of herpes fame… It’s vomity and dangerous. Let’s not forget how VH1‘ s vetting process, or lack thereof, turned deadly last year when a Megan Wants A Millionaire dating contestant murdered a woman (who turned out to be his previous wife) and threw her in a dumpster. Oops.

Yeah, I’m a bit of a snob. I came up through the ranks with some amazingly talented improv actors and comedians who would challenge me daily to be a better writer, performer, filmmaker…a better person. Even if our material was sometimes raunchy, our work ethic skewed more Wes Anderson than WWF.

So each time I see a girl from the Hills on the red carpet, I feel bad for an actress I know who is still struggling. Every time I see a commercial for Wife Swap, I think of my award winning writer friend who still temps.  When I see Snooki doing panel on a talk show, it’s like a paper cut to SAG, WGA and oh, every other creative union I can think of.

So, every time someone says to me,

“Don’t you just love Jersey Shore?”

I say:

“Fuck you, no I don’t. ”

And I immediately get an argument…like I stepped all over Schindlers List or some great work of art.

Come On People.

What has become of you? Have you been eating Craisins so long that you can’t differentiate between a TV show and a turd?

Here are the 5 most given arguments:

“But, it’s fun!”

No, it’s not. I wouldn’t ever go to the Jersey Shore. Not even to be ironic. And you probably wouldn’t either. And don’t front like this is some wonderful Nat Geo glimpse into a world you knew nothing about. You never WANTED to know about this world. On purpose. It’s Jersey.

“But they’re sooooo dumb/lame/ridiculous!”

Yeah. A lot of people I come across are dumb. I try to move away from those people as quickly as possible, not spend a half hour of my time with them. I want to spend time around people who are inspiring – who are smarter than me…not people who make me question procreation.

They’re not even an entertaining stupid, like Laurel and Hardy or Three Stooges stupid. To me it’s just your average run of the mill, plebeian, local yokel stupid. Why do I want to give that my attention? Why do we, as a society, want to reward that? I don’t go to monster truck rallies. Why do I want to J Wow?

“Well, Ali, it’s popular anyways, you might as well give into it.”

Um, yeah. Like swine flu? That’s a really great idea for enjoying something. Everyone else has hopped on the stupid train, so I should too. That will make me run even farther away from it. To me that argument has just made Jersey Shore the teabagging of television.

“You need to lighten up.”

Totally true. In fact it’s my New Year’s resolution. But I’m sure as fuck not going to do it watching a bunch of sorry assed wasted people that have nothing to add to my life.

They don’t make me laugh. They don’t make me think. They don’t really do anything except…what? Advertise Ed Hardy, laziness, and date rape? If I want to lighten up, I will choose something like Craig Ferguson whom I’ve discovered recently, I really like. Or 30 Rock, which makes me laugh consistently…or The Green Room, a new show on Showtime, which I think is going to turn the talk show genre on it’s ear.

“There’s nothing else on television.”

This, sadly, might be true. I’m not even sure what Jersey Shore goes up against in it’s given time slot. But I am aware that there are upwards of 700 digital channels and there is a strong possibility that there is nothing of note on. I can give some other suggestions aside the ones above: older episodes of Extras and The Tudors are great. House is a good show. The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are both some of the best television being made right now. 24 is like a new action movie every week, if you like that type of thing…not your cup of tea? Try this…turn off the TV. Go see some live music. Go to your local theater and see a stand up or some improv or a play. Can’t afford it? Talk to your family. Don’t have a family? Try reading a book.

You see if you keep watching crap, they will keep making it. And writing Us Weekly articles about it. And feeding you super size portions of it. And then Perez Hilton gets richer and music gets worse and The Rock makes a sequel to The Tooth Fairy and our legit theaters close and then they stop teaching art in schools because, really, what’s the point?

So, no, I don’t give a crap about the Jersey Shore. And neither should you.

Peter Beste, Black Metal, & Spinal Crap

Peter Beste is a very talented music photographer. His greatness lies in his ability to really immerse himself in the world of the subject, whether it be London grime, Houston hip hop, Southern strip joints or Norwegian metal. The result is vivid, arresting photos that juxtapose the subject with a surprising surrounding. Metal star in a safe, white station wagon? Of course.

get out of my bad dreams, get into my car

What I didn’t expect was for his new book, True Norwegian Black Metal, and his Vice VBS TV documentary for of the same name, would be a window on one of the strangest stories in music.

My friend T.C. and I met Jennifer (of L7 fame) and her boyfriend Chris, at the hoity toity restaurant Jar, for drinks beforehand. Sitting at the posh bar amongst a friendly Aussie and a very charming James McAvoy, lulled me into a false sense of Hollywoodland, and made me ill prepared for the metal fairy tale that was about to unfold…

Peter’s Los Angeles exhibit opening was down the block at Zune. Upon entering, it was clear that the walls of photos brought a crowd of black wearing men and women who only come out at night. To rock.

Joan of Ass

Jennifer, T.C. and Chris at the exhibit

The photographs were strange and beautiful, and at times funny or disturbing. The colors and composition made even the most outlandishly dressed gallery attendees fade into the background like wall flowers. Peter was a clear eyed, affable guy, whom you would never think had held the key to the Metal castle, but he did. And he followed the story of Gorgoroth…

photographer Peter Beste

Once upon a time, there was a phenomenon called Gorgoroth. No, not the dead plateau of evil and Darkness in the land of Mordor from Lord of The Rings…the Norwegian black metal band Gorgoroth. They are much more scary than the Tolkien version of Gorgoroth. Sorta.

Gorgoroth was known for it’s members, King ov Hell, Infernus, Tormentor and Gaahl, amongst a revolving cast of shredders. Gorgoroth’s members weren’t strangers to controversy. They had played a show in Krakow, Poland, once the scene of the horrific Holocaust, and displayed sheep heads on stakes, a bloodbath of 80 liters of sheep’s blood, satanic symbols, and four naked crucified models on stage. Awww, cute!

from Peter Beste's exhibit

Other noteworthy incidents included Infernus’s incarceration for assault and rape, and Gaahl’s jail time for torturing a man, apparently focusing his brutality on the man’s testicles. This pretty much ruled out their being booked for parties and Bar Mitzvahs.

from Peter Best's exhibit

Amidst these ‘Behind The Music’ type skids, the band kept up the good fight. For there was a war going on…a war between the Norwegian Black Metal scene and the Swedish Death Metal scene. The Norwegian scene was known for certain members who committed murder, burned down medieval wooden churches, and desecrated graveyards. Despite the Swedish Death metal scene’s attempts to thwart their actions or overshadow it with their raucous, deadly caucophany, the Norwegians held their ground.

Unfortunately, Gorgoroth’s involvement in this Hatfield vs McCoy type battle was cut short when the band split in 2007. This brought another war on, between band mates for use of the name and the trademark. The litigation war still wages on today.

Peter managed to infiltrate this secretive sect of musicians and they eventually allowed him to photograph them and document them for a five part series. Seeing these Norse gods of metal traipse through lush Narnian fields and woods was brilliant – black leather and spikes weighing them down as they climbed steep embankments.

from Peter Beste's exhibit

While the field trips were a bit comical, Peter’s interview with Gaahl became downright eerie in the end. When Gaahl was unhappy with Peter’s line of questioning, he went into a icy rigid state, sitting dead still and staring straight ahead without blinking. While watching this video at the gallery, I thought the video tape had frozen…but the flickering candle in the background proved that this was one freaky dude – he’d make Charlie Manson sleep with a night light on.

Gaahl

As an interviewer myself, I was captivated by this scene. I’ve had my fair share of rock star enfant terribles and one or two who have stepped over the line, into my lap and tried to lick me (or other dog like behavior). However, this was way beyond an inappropriate sexual advance. How did Beste stay seated during this? How did he not run screaming from the room? Any moment the walls could have started bleeding and the windows blown in in some Shining/Amityville styled nightmare. It made me almost swoon in appreciation for Beste’s courage. This video was truly chilling in an Ed Gein, Dahmer sense, which party made me want to know exactly what he did to that man he tortured back in 2002…but then again I’m a twisted soul who keeps a copy of The Stranger Beside Me on my bedside table.

However, the myth of Gaahl unravels a bit here. Though he may be an unstable, psychopath satanist with a cult following, Gaahl’s recent revelations of his personal life betray his monster mask. It was noted in an interview, that Gaahl has been involved with Norwegian modeling agent Dan De Vero since he was eighteen. But not only did Gaahl use his death scythe to hack his way out of the closet, but then revealed that he and De Vero were designing a women’s clothing line called “Wynjo”. Yes, pretty dresses for summer

Oh, and the magazine where Gaahl affirmed his homosexuality? The November 2008 issue of…Rock Hard.

Yeah, Rock Hard. I am not making this shit up. It kinda turns the Tolkienesque bloody tale into a Spinal Crap farce.

True, the music that Beste’s subject matters play would make Marilyn Manson look like Bozo the Clown, but it comforts me somewhat to know that even the most violent men in Norway are still concerned about whether or not hemlines are going up and the difference between a pump and a stiletto.

Ali and TC - metal babe fashionistas

However unintentionally hilarious in parts, the long, strange trip of this heavy metal clan is a fascinating subject. Beste, bless his heart, has captured it stunningly.

Peter Beste’s True Norwegian Black Metal exhibit runs Nov. 21 – December 18 2008 at Zune LA, 8275 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles, or visit http://www.peterbeste.com.