Did these people sign contracts, willingly step in front of the cameras and perform as asked? Yes, of course. They’re not free from blame in their own ruining, far from it, but let’s just think for a second about what MTV has done here, especially in the case of Montag.
When The Hills premiered, in May of 2006, Heidi Montag was 19 years old. Which could very well mean that she signed her first MTV contract at 18. The network snared this kid, this real genuine kid, into their glossy trap and then just let her hang herself, over and over again, claiming some sort of documentarian remove when asked if they’d intervene. They simply couldn’t do it, couldn’t even acknowledge the swirling Oort cloud of Us Weekly frenzy that surrounded the cast, because then it wouldn’t be real. Only of course they do intervene, all the time, when it is convenient for them. It’s pretty much common knowledge at this point that the show is staged to within an inch of its life — nearly every look, conversation, relationship is false. So the audience at home is never quite sure what to believe. “Oh look how awful Heidi acts on this show, let’s be cruel to her. It doesn’t matter, it’s just a made-up show!” Which, sure, may have seemed, or been, true at some point. But now, with all of these surgeries, this willful and terrifying mangling of her body, Heidi has emerged as a deeply troubled and emotionally damaged lost soul, one who childishly offered herself up to a reality camera crew and watched, feeling helpless to do anything but not fight the riptide, as they stripped her bare, took everything off her, mocked her for taking what they’d offered her, edited her however they wanted, threw her family into the mix and tore them apart too.
And then in a final act of desperation, the old innocent Heidi finally kicking out the chair, Montag got something like ten plastic surgeries at once, changing her entire face and body to something immovable and unrecognizable. She became some sort of version of Heidi as she imagined the show defined her — pretty, booby Heidi with her shallow, fake husband — and MTV saw it, they saw it, and said “OK, let’s roll cameras!” anyway. So we watched last night as she went home to Crested Butte (that name, that name) and her family tried to mask their horror, until it was finally too much. Until the presence of the cameras was so looming and demanding that her parents felt they had to try to sputter out words and just ended up hurting her feelings. Heidi tried to chew, she tried to cry, but she couldn’t. So she just sat there, her eyes wild with the recognition that she can never go back, and you realized that MTV ruined this kid’s life. They gave her a platform to indulge her greatest insecurities, to stoke her deepest unhealthy desires, and they encouraged it and filmed it and sent it out to world while saying Ha Ha.
Heidi isn’t any different than the girls watching at home, just worse off. She was watching the show, watching herself, and seeing something distant and faraway. And she wanted it, wanted desperately for it to be real. So she’s just chasing her tail forever, while MTV films and makes bundles in cellphone advertisements. They pried open that hole in Heidi’s heart, and they basically put that shit in her face. At least they certainly funded it.
1. Naps. Oh lordy-lordy-look-who’s-forty how much I have missed NAPS! Now that I don’t work on Saturdays and my Sundays aren’t a ridiculous mess of multiple practices and meetings, I have been napping like a goddamn fiend. I spent 75% of this weekend sleeping.
2. My entire NetFlix queue is every Joss Whedon show ever created. I’m on season 2 of Buffy right now and not at all ashamed to admit what a geek I am for this.
3. Warm and sunny during the day and cool enough to wear a hoodie at night.
I replied to your reblog but it’s not showing up. Yeah yeah I can figure how they justify it in the show. She was only temporary. Big deal. But why not just keep Coolidge on? She did the impossible already in being a perfectly acceptable Lynch replacement so why not let her keep doing it? What else is she doing these days? Mullally has a show on Broadway, is crushing it on Parks n Rec….what’s Jennifer Coolidge doing otherwise?
Good question. I WISH Coolidge was the permanent replacement.
In fact, I wish Coolidge was on every TV show.
I think being able to track your package online through UPS or FedEx or the post office does more harm than good, in a watched-pot-doesn’t-boil kind of way.
I FINALLY scraped together enough money to get a new computer without going into that much more debt than I already am, and I ordered it online because I got a good deal. Obviously I didn’t pay the $13 extra for two-day shipping because, I mean, who has that kind of money.
So now here I am, checking the FedEx page regularly to find out when I’m getting my damn computer. And it’s torture. I would be better off not knowing. I get my Shipment Notification email and think “Sweet! It’s on it’s way!” but it hasn’t even left yet. DON’T NOTIFY ME THAT FEDEX HAS RECEIVED ELECTRONIC SHIPPING INFORMATION, YOU FUCKING COCKTEASE.
And then I’ll get excited when some time this afternoon the computer leaves a facility in Georgia.
"Oh boy!" I’ll exclaim this weekend upon learning it has landed in Victorville. I’ll do some math in my head and try to figure out if it is feasible for a package to arrive in Victorville and be delivered to West Hollywood in the same day. It won’t be. But I’ll hold out hope. And from that moment on I’m pretty much leaving the FedEx page open and hitting refresh every other minute.
And why? For some information? For barely any information? It’s not getting my computer to me any faster. But I can’t help it. I’m a slave to package tracking. I’d be better off without it. At least then I could get on with my life.
Most stuff rolls of my back. I don’t get offended easily. However, if there is one SUREFIRE thing that never ceases to piss me off, it’s being called a flake.
Yeah. You know what? I do agree to a lot of things. Too many, as a matter of fact. I’m an overzealous “yes” person. In my mind, I honestly believe that I can intern at the UCB until 8pm, run and pick up my paycheck, grocery shop, stop at your party, run to a rehearsal, and do a show at midnight. So when I don’t make it to your thing, it’s not because I’m at home on the couch just DECIDING not to go. It’s because I’m fucking busy. So deal with it.
Getting ready to watch Spirit of the Marathon. I’m hoping for lots of emotional clips of people crossing the finish line. I’m such a sucker for that shit. After I finished the marathon in January I stood and watched people finish for the next four hours.
Okay, that’s because I was waiting for my mom to cross…but I would have watched anyway!