Paris Hilton and The Hunger Games

The only reason I will admit to having watched the show is because I was distracting myself. Sometime I feel like I have A.D.D. as I flip through the TV channels at the gym; trying to forget that my muscles are burning, and that I still have 20 minutes to go on the elliptical machine. This particular show was a reality series built around Paris Hilton finding a new best friend (or B.F.F., as the show kept reminding the viewers). At the time, it was hard to decide what bugged me the most about the show. The shallowness of it was definitely screaming for me to change the channel, but the puzzlement over why all those girls would put themselves through the contest kept me glued. The show was down to four contestants, when the camera crew filmed Hilton telling each of them that they were eliminated from the show. Hilton then proceeded to watch each girl during their exit interview after she had left the room, taking note of how sad they were about getting kicked off her show. Hilton then decided based off of the interviews who was really the girl to be weeded out. It seemed like such a classic case of manipulation, ingenious really, but “Ouch!”, so cold and harsh at the same time! It’s like Jr. High all over again, but with America watching.
This show established a new hobby horse for me. It made me start to think that we, as a culture are on our way to the arenas of Rome. I know, there is a big distance between A and B here, but let me explain.
We already know that our reality shows contain manipulation. What is the harm of that? Those girls signed up for it, right? But one of the key elements that makes me squeamish is the disconnect audiences feel toward reality show contestants, and our strong desire for entertainment and distraction (whether it be from sore muscles or just escape from our normal existence). The TV audience has now been programmed to view some ghastly things without flinching. We do not know the contestants personally, even though we might be interested in their character. Stinks to be them… but oh well!
Last weekend I read the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It is one of the most suspenseful books I have read in a long time, and it articulates some of the cumulative thoughts and feelings I have had over the last year (since watching Miss. Hilton and her prospective B.F.F.s.) The book is in the category of teen lit, and so it spends some time on a love triangle that still hasn’t untangled itself by the second book (I’m not finished with that one yet), but over all it is a good read. It is insightful about the direction our society is taking. Not only in the sense that the storyline is woven around a reality TV show arena, where kids are forced to kill each other, but The Hunger Games also brings to light the vanity and self focus that often accompanies wealth. While the main character, Katniss, was having to deal with issues like death, shell-shock nightmares, poverty, hunger and being on the government’s hit list, another acquaintance, named Octavia, was living a life of ease in The Capital. Octavia lamented to Katniss the fact that her biggest disappointment in life was having people come to her Birthday party wearing feathers (it was apparently a fashion disaster). The irony is very apparent. This contrast was a reminder to me that as Americans we are rich compared to the rest of the world. If we close our eyes to the distraught, poor and hungry we are no better than Octavia. It was a direct hit between the eyes, but it is a point well taken.