Weekly Dose of Hatred

In the wake of the MTV Video Music Awards I felt compelled to express my white hot undying hatred for the channel formerly known as Music Television.


I hate MTV.

I really don't know where to start. There is so very much to despise about MTV, but since they just aired the VMAs let's start there.

For MTV to hold an awards show based on music videos is like Chris Brown throwing a birthday gala for Rhianna. In the beginning MTV and music videos seemed like such a perfect pairing. They went places, held hands, displayed affection publicly...but then while on a date one night MTV pulled its car over and proceeded to punch music videos over and over again in the face, allegedly.

MTV then used its former paramour as a platform to even bigger fame with animal crap in human shaped bags from Jersey, fat white trash teenagers who had dollar signs in their eyes as they were getting plowed by some random guy that had already agreed to appear on tv with them when the baby was born, and every spoiled overprivileged 16 year old girl having a birthday party.

I've already discussed the modern day slavery clauses that go into a Real World contract and yet people still continue to line up at MTV's door in the hopes that they might somehow be able to embarrass not only their family but every person who ever lived in the state they came from. "No, I'm not from the same place as Trishelle Canatella, I'm from a different Louisiana."

There are three effing hours of music videos in an entire day's worth of MTV programming.

Three hours.

That means there are 21 hours of such future television classics as Rob and Big, Teen Mom, Jersey Shore, Jersey Shore After Hours, Jersey Shore Free Clinic, Real World, Real World Challenge, My Super Sweet 16, whatever show Bam Margera is doing this week, and of course 47 daily replays of the 2011 VMAs. Yet the brain trust that runs MTV felt as though 21 hours of pure unadulterated free flowing shit wasn't nearly enough to retard the youth of America. They needed to create MTV2, which to its credit boasts an impressive 3 and 1/2 hours of music videos.

As if all of that weren't enough, Spencer Pratt and Heidi Montag should have been either killed in some industrial machinery accident or forced to work as drug mules in some Mexican village, but nooooooo. MTV had to make them famous. Because of MTV me and most of the world can easily identify these two talentless assdicks.

F you MTV. I hate you.

Eric Nies is rolling over in his grave

Editor's Note: I realize the header picture is going to have nothing to do with the post I am about to write, but I refuse let a picture of any of the spoiled piles of monkey crap that have appeared on The Real World take up space at the top of my site. Also, Mila Kunis is freaking adorable, and if she would just answer one of my letters I know we could make it work.

Ok, this is semi old news and I might be late on reporting it. I wanted to save it for a Weekly Dose of Hatred, but I couldn't sit on it any longer.

The Real World has long been a staple the anti-music portion of MTV's programming block, a block that has become increasingly less music and more crap, but that's for another time. I have mixed emotions about The Real World because once upon a time it was a very interesting social experiment that actually brought real life issues to the table. Sure the discussions weren't always PBS caliber, but they were discussions nonetheless.

Then there is a part of me that blames The Real World for everything bad that has ever happened to television. The Real World is the reason we have to sit through 47 different incarnations of two sad lonely attention starved people hoping and praying that someone other poor sad attention hungry person gives them a flower. But again, I digest.

There has been a copy of the contract used for cast members of The Real World going around and it is absolutely brutal. I don't know who to pity more, the sick heartless bastards who wrote this contract or the vapid braindead attention whores that sign them. Here's a sampling:

You may die, lose limbs, and suffer nervous breakdowns. (Stipulation 1)
You grant the Producer blanket rights to your life story.
The Producer can do pretty much anything they want with your life story, including misrepresent it.
You may be humiliated and explicitly portrayed “in a false light.”
The production crew can show up at your personal house at any time to film and/or to take anything they want, as long as they return the objects once production has ended.
The Producer holds the authorship and copyright to every photograph, email, website, sound or video recording, documented performance created in relation to the program, on every medium imaginable.

You know, after reading those again I realize I don't pity anyone. Everyone involved with this show should be forced to watch an entire season of Tool Academy and then shot.

Update: Apparently Eric Nies is not dead. The headline should read 'Eric Nies career is rolling over in its grave'. My apologies.