the malfatti problem. my life in the singularity.

Television Journalism at its finest. And stuff.

I think they’ve done too many of these “Digital Shorts”. One of them hit big and they saturated the interweb with this shit.

That said, I still like to pull this one up from time to time. Regardless of how they’ve destroyed the concept:

I don’t work in their industry. I don’t know any of them. They don’t know me. This might not mean anything to most, but I just thought I should say:

go to unitedhollywood.com and get “on the same page”. Support the writers.

Okay, so I didn’t even know this show existed until I saw the post on Mike Doughty’s Blog the other day, but while flipping through the stations (i thought i blocked vh1 on my tivo) here’s what i saw:

A wannabe “Growing Up Gotti” kid with greased-up hair and a way-too-tight fluorescent green t-shirt, looking completely out of place with a red, leather-bound book on the patio of a coffee house in NYC. He sits down and scans the immediate area for a gaggle of choice honeys, or what Mystery calls, “a set”.

Which brings me to Mystery. Sitting nearby in a barren surveillance truck (basically a ryder with three chairs and a tv in the back), the host of this show sits with his panel of “Masters” (short for Master Pick-Up Artist…I think). The creepiest guys I’ve ever seen on television. Not because of their “look at me” outfits or unbearable headwear. It’s not even the eyeliner that one of them seems to put on with great details. It’s what they’re doing.

They have their own “lingo“, which is just downright silly. They take these unsuspecting kids just out of college (or at the end of their run, anyway) and not only change their complete identity in order to get phone numbers, but actually have the audacity to think they’re making them “better people” in the long run.

Listen, I’m all for helping the shy, non-social guys be more confident. That’s good. But there’s some weird vibe running through every breath of every person on that show that rubs me the wrong way. Hey Kosmo — yes, his name is actually Kosmo — I know you’re going to miss Brady when he gets kicked off, but if you really care about the guy, you’ll actually hang out with the dude once you’re freed of this torture. Why the sob-fest?

Seriously. Who thought that a show about picking-up women could make a guy so gay??

I was sure that I’d found the worst thing to ever happen to this country when American Idol first became popular. But, I should have known … it’s been trumped. Quite possibly the most disturbing show on television. Beware.

Now … how do I get to be on the next season? Anyone have Mystery’s number?