The Stuff of Nightmares

On Sunday I had the privilege of watching my first and last episode of Rock of Love 2 with Bret Michaels. The only reason why I watched it was because I love Celebrity Fit Club. With the exception of Dustin and Erin, I like the people,. They seem good people I wouldn’t mind knowing. Most people on TV-well let’s just say I am glad they are on TV and not next door to me. I like Dr. Ian’s smile and I just love Harvey. I want Harvey to come get my kids motivated to clean their rooms and do their school work. Back to Rock of Love, the only reason I watched it is I was captive under a just falling asleep toddler without a remote to change the channel. It was a pathetic site as I kept doing that whisper-yelling thing hoping I was loud enough for someone outside my door to hear me, yet not loud enough for the kid next to my face to wake up. No luck, I was hostage to VH-1. So I kept the show on. Although I never saw the first show or one episode of the second, you practically have to live under a rock to not know that one of the contestants is Oscar De La Hoya’s neice, Daisy De La Hoya. And lo and behold, there she was, one of the two finalists. So my interest was piqued.
I watched in horror for one and a half hours as an obviously plastic-surgery-enhanced-too-old-to-not-get-a-haircut “gentleman” pitted these two women, Daisy and Ambre (every time I see that spelling I think it”s pretentious and should be pronounced AHM-bray), against each other. Daisy, the supposed “Looker” between the two of them (who also looks quite surgically enhanced) did not have one intelligent word come out of her mouth. There was no way he was going to pick her. Ambre who seemed more intelligent, and was more appropriate choice age wise in comparison to Daisy seemed more “together”, but she was also someone who is not ashamed to show the world she goes to dinner without underpants on for a man who has not committed to her. In truth, as much as the feminist in me wanted to hate him, I didn’t. Truth be told, I’m not sure exactly what my opinion of him is exactly.
These poor women went to Mexico and for 24 hours waited in a hotel room with nothing to do but pine over this guy while he wine, dined and slept with their opponent in the hopes that the next day he will pick them. The only thing that made total sense to me was when Daisy left Bret’s room the next morning, she went to her room and broke down in tears.
Can someone please explain the Feminist Movement to me? Where are they? Why has being used as game show prizes the mark of modern woman?
That night I had nightmares about Daisy and Ambre and when I woke up the next morning, I still had a sort of emotional bitter taste in my mouth about the show. I remembered why I never watch these shows, they make me feel angry and depressed. There are certain horror movies I cannot watch because I feel the graphic imagery does some kind of damage to my soul. I felt the same way about what I witnessed on VH-1 last Sunday.It chips away little by little the sense of right and wrong God instilled in me, and takes us a step away from viewing people as people, but seeing them merely as commodities.
I guess it was the unpleasant memories of having been there, done that made me feel terrible. Nothing fulfilling about it.