Friday, May 12, 2017

Final Absurdities of The Real Housewives of Toronto

The Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode Ten, Season Finale

As it began so it ends: Dumb, dishonest, petty and dull, albeit with a dash of the absurd, as well as an elephant thrown in for good measure. It was only the promise of this absurdity in addition to my curiosity regarding the shady men lurking in the periphery that kept me going until the bitter end. 



And lo and behold, just as predicted, what do I notice "lurking in the periphery" like a psycho stalking his next set of female organs? Brett Wilson. He's desperate to fill his "buckets" with as many penetrable body parts as he possibly can before his erectile dysfunction is permanently medication-resistant and castration becomes his last remaining option. 


Look at him. Weasel. 
Girlfriends, casual hookups, "blind" dates, "proteges", high-end "masseuses" or call-girls, private gatherings stocked with sushi girls in any location renowned for male-friendly "tourism", such as Mexico, the Philippines, Dubai or the Virgin Islands, either with idol, Richard Branson or with Branson's buddy, child molester, Jeffry Epstein, are all well and fine, but there's nothing quite like a conveyor belt of home-grown malleable young models to coax a penile response. 

The added incentive for Wilson in the context of The Real Housewives of Toronto is that he can be involved with yet another reality TV show, which he loves reality TV. 

But perhaps I'm wrong and he's merely hanging out with his cohort. 


It's possible he does not in fact have anything to do with the financing and production of The Real Housewives of Toronto. It's possible he never intentionally set out to undermine the hard-won gains of feminism by introducing yet another demeaning depiction of women into the male-dominated entertainment sphere.

It's possible this old white dude past his physical prime, who despite faulty plumbing still carries a reputation for being a male slut with presumably a venereal disease, never consciously intended to facilitate the end of civilization via the dumbing influence of sensationalized "reality". Perhaps he merely "stumbled" into the private party of a pair of wealthy swingers who "happened" to be filming the final episode of a TV show he's been associated with in the past. Maybe he really isn't a narcissistic sociopath stalking the parties of the rich and ridiculous and his presence on screen, being rich and ridiculous himself, is simply a coincidence.

While there does exist a compelling theory within social science that draws a link between psychopathy and an engineering degree, Wilson is an "engineer", who by his own account, barely made it through school and never really used his degree in any direct manner anyway. His worldly accomplishments therefore are more likely attributed to the luck of white male privilege, a socioeconomic climate made ripe for harvest by those who came before him, and the genetic happenstance ambitions of an Olds and Milner's rat, than the result of the methodically carried out machinations of a psychopath.

And while it's also possible a climate science skeptic with a BLATANT conflict of interest, who struck it rich through oil and gas and the very practices climate science has shown are wreaking havoc on the planet, has integrity operating beneath his smug facade, it's un-fucking-likely. If ever there was an archetype of a douchebag Brett Wilson is it.





Besides, it's hard (oops) to fathom a man THIS stupidly egocentric, who spouts cringe-worthy cliches about failure not being failure when he's the one doing the failing, or how success is determined not by the size of his wallet but by the size of his smile (gag, also empirically not true), and who dresses like a mental patient who escaped the asylum only to find himself wandering the aisles of Value Village, has ANY awareness whatsoever outside his own immediate concerns and carnal urges. Look at him. What an asshole. He looks like a parody of Paulie Walnuts from The Sopranos.


Brett Wilson's doppelganger, TV gangster, Tony Sirico (Paulie)
An arrogant bug is a cocky roach.


Then again, he does quote Albert Pike (1809-1891) in his hard-to-read without cringing book, Redefining Success, Still Making Mistakes. If Albert Pike, a Freemason and Satanist involved with the occult and whose writings are considered a blueprint for the "new world order" is another one of Wilson's philosophical idols, then "calculating psychopath" is still within the realm of possibility. If that is indeed the case, then his disguise as a pompous fool and embarrassing clown is nothing short of genius.


Quoted by Wilson in Redefining Success, page 12.


The true evil intent of Albert Pike.
But putting aside the satisfying feeling of being right about Brett Wilson at least on some level, how do the kind of people we see portrayed on the Real Housewives of Toronto as well as the fawning multitudes who inevitably flock around them not see how utterly absurd they look, or how despicable their extravagances are in a world teeming with so much poverty and suffering? 


There is no beauty in the finest cloth if it makes hunger and unhappiness ~ Mahatma Gandhi
We're all supposed to be SO impressed, in such awe, of rich people and their fucked up obsession with fashion. They act as if the designs are THEIR designs! They do the same thing with the arts. They collect, display and wear other people's work and then call it their own as if they literally did the creating. It's a fine, easily blurred line between patronage and thievery, and the wealthy have no problem crossing that line.

They also have no problem flaunting their wealth and unfettered consumerism, with seemingly no regard for the planet their reckless living impacts. With respect to their infatuation with fashion specifically, it's difficult to watch the posturing women and men of The Real Housewives without thinking of the environmental damage associated with the clothing industry. It's also difficult to not think of the inhumane working conditions and mental health problems attached to the fashion trade, whether we're talking teen models starved and treated like branded cattle in a slaughterhouse, the eating disorders, body dysmorphia and sexual objectification intimately tied to commercialized fashion, or the slave wages of factory workers in impoverished countries with dismal human rights track records. 



I'm not against culture and the arts, prosperity, progress or freedom of expression, but I am against injustice, cruelty and the indifference of those who could do something substantial to change the plight of the poor, the sick, the hurt and the suffering. I am against the massive imbalance of power and wealth caused by corruption and the unregulated capitalist greed of a privileged few, who rig the game in their favor, at the expense of an anguished, disempowered many. 

I'm against the idolization of flawed mortals. And I'm against applauding their grandiose displays of obscene riches, while immediately outside their golden gates, languishing below their gilded cages, disadvantaged human beings writhe in pain and struggle in vain as they fight to survive.



Then UNBELIEVABLY, the second people who have too much money, such as Joan and Don Walker or whipping boy, Brett Wilson, decide to adopt the prestigious title of "philanthropist" and huck some resources at the very suffering and inequality they're responsible for creating and maintaining in the first place, we're all expected to be pathetically ingratiating and deferential towards them?? 




Constantly exulting the filthy rich for giving back to the world that made their atrocious accumulation of wealth possible in the first place is as ludicrous as constantly praising divorced fathers for paying child support. These are moral imperatives. They SHOULD be giving back without expecting anything in return. They already have SO MUCH. It's not good for ANY human soul to be so fucking greedy, or for ANY ego to be stroked so vigorously and so ceaselessly. Nothing should be stroked that hard.

The fatuous posturing and eccentric habits of the privileged and well-to-do, as if they've jumped straight out of the pages of The Hunger Games, wouldn't bother me to the degree it does if there wasn't just SO MUCH human misery surrounding them that they could actually do something structurally significant to change. 

If there wasn't all this desperate need and injustice in the world, I'd feel the same way about the extravagant lifestyles of the rich and famous as I do about tattoos, cartoonish breast implants that transform women into bimbo caricatures, "open" relationships, Pajama People, flaky New Age trends, placenta pills and religious fundamentalism: I'd never submit to these lifestyle choices and belief systems, but "whatever" if someone else does. Other than being curious about these things, I don't care. I might not get it, but to each his or her own. 




However, it isn't quite the case, is it, that the rich are simply living frivolous, materialistic lives that have no detrimental, oppressive effects on anyone else? They live the way they do, hoarding wealth, totally indifferent (other than for the purposes of their self-serving philanthropy and marketing ploys), and almost downright contemptuous of the poorer masses, because they're addicted to the power, illicit temptations, luxuries and unending adulation that comes with their affluence. 

They don't really want to do anything to alleviate suffering or elevate the oppressed into an improved state of being because that wouldn't serve their superiority complex or feed their lust for power. They don't really care about anyone else. They want an inferior, peasant class that stays desperate and hungry because it keeps THEM rich, powerful and exalted with all the "perks" that entails.

They like feeling superior, feeling like gods and goddesses, kings and queens. They like believing they're above the rest of us, either by divine decree or meritorious "hard work". And they like the idea that others are inferior because they're meant to be inferior. In other words, they like oppression and they like believing those who are oppressed somehow deserve their oppression.

With regards to their addiction to the constant praise that comes with status, how often do we hear the women of any of the Real Housewives franchises being greeted with how "amazing" they look, or how "beautiful" they are, or how they are "goddesses"? It's nauseating. 

It's as nauseating as watching Roxy in action with her impossible to hide envy and malice, despite her "reputation management" team's best efforts to spin it. Her micro-expressions, body language and the contradiction between what is said and what is done don't lie. 

If you want to know what makes a person tick, you have to ignore the superficial things they, their friends, family, acquaintances or the people they employ say. I mean, other than what the superficiality itself says about them.

Envy is a littleness of soul, which cannot see beyond a certain point, and if it does not occupy the whole space, feels itself excluded ~ William Hazlitt
You have to ignore the platitudes they regurgitate and you can't be bamboozled by their status, material success, physical beauty, credentials or the impressive people they claim as friends. You have to keep your mind flexible and pay attention to the minutia, the details. Absolutely everything in life, no matter how seemingly trivial, is endowed with some meaning, some clue that can help you reveal hidden truths, illuminate concealed miracles and expose otherwise cleverly disguised lies, if you have the eye for it. 

Not everyone does have or want this "eye" however, and who can blame them? Once you start peering beneath the surface into the darker depths of human nature it can be downright debilitating from a mental health standpoint. You run the risk of spending too much time ruminating on the depressing idea that there is something alarmingly wrong with humanity when it seems so willing to worship the rich, overlooking their more dismal behaviors and cruelties, while at the same time letting the meek, the unknown, the poor and the abused rot in some garbage dump, or be used as nothing but cheap, slave labour and objects of sexual assault.

Case in point, Magna, of which Don Walker is the CEO, opens assembly plant after assembly plant in Mexico because slave wages, trade union suppression, lack of workers' rights or even basic respect for human dignity, as well as unenforced government regulations and unrestricted trading borders keep costs of labour and production low enough to enable the Donalds of the world multi-million dollar compensations.  This then puts the Joans of the world in the "envious" position of being able to throw elaborate parties on a whim, so she can show off their privilege and material trinkets on television to much acclaim and devotion. Essentially, the rich FEED off the poor like fucking leeches.

But who wants to think about that? Who, other than maybe a few who reject the banality of the "positivity movement", want to think about all the "negativity" involved with the social ills of the world? Why do that when we can watch "goddesses", Ann Kaplan and Joan Walker, distract themselves with shopping for golden elephants and giant lip-shaped chaise loungers? 




Or when we can listen in on Jana Webb and Roxy Earle as they maliciously (and gleefully) gossip yet AGAIN about Kara Alloway? And then in turn observe Ann and Kara hash out the details of the same piece of gossip, albeit from a different angle, that Jana and Roxy were just digging into?


Jana and Roxy meet up to verbally "rip apart" Kara Alloway yet again, Jana stating, "I'm scared she's going to rip me apart and I'm going to be a rug on her floor". She's afraid?? THEY are the ones ripping apart Kara! Unbelievable. The always hateful, jealous Roxy disagrees and snaps, "Let's be clear, this is not an intimidating person. She's not important". Well, dummies, that turned out to be patently untrue, didn't it? You ALL made Kara Alloway THE MOST IMPORTANT focal point of the ENTIRE first season (and I imagine last) of The Real Housewives of Toronto. Then, unbelievably again after spending the whole segement trash talking Kara, Jana ends it by saying, "You know what? Let's stop talking about it, it's so negative". A LITTLE LATE for that, oh great Yogi of Bimbo!! Good god!
Why would we think about depressing Mexican factory workers far removed from "The True North, strong and free", who are paid a pittance and used like workhorses, when we can watch Don ogle the fake tits of some chick straddling his Harley amidst the opulence of a "condo" that's more like a castle than a condo? Why would we?


The wandering eye of a filthy rich man always finds a pair of tits to land on. Where the eye goes, the dick is sure to follow. Sorry, Joan, your husband's a dog. But I'm sure you knew that. Oh well, you have the diamond.
And that OUTLANDISH vow renewal circus?! What the? I already had the Capitol citizens from the Hunger Games, with their bizarre getups and mindless indulgences, in my head from Joan's earlier fashion show, but Ann and Stevie's wedding ceremony clinched it. Holy shit. The inanity! The phoniness! The vanity! The self-exaltation! The senseless waste of money! 


We live increasingly in a world of haves and have-nots, of gated communities next to ghettos, of extreme poverty and unbelievable riches. Some enjoy rights that are completely denied to others. Relative inequalities are exploding, and the world's poorest, despite all the advances of globalisation, may even be getting poorer ~ Noreena Hertz
Meanwhile, there's an affordable housing crisis in Toronto, a city dubbed Canada's inequality capital and home to one of the largest wealth gaps on the planet. The shelters overflow and food banks cannot keep up with the demand. Untreated mental illness, addiction and human trafficking loiter the streets, sleep under cardboard or hide in the shadows, forced there by either those who are exploiting them or by a society that doesn't want to look at them.


Ann Kaplan and Joan Walker compare diamonds, their status symbols. They are status symbols that are stained with blood and infused with the stench of pollution, but they don't care. They can go shopping!
A society that doesn't care, where the bulk of the wealth stays at the tip of the pyramid, separated from the woes of this ugly world like a highly selective blood-brain barrier. The barrier is there to prevent foreign, harmful substances found in the blood from entering the brain. But the rich are living an illusion. Their barriers aren't omnipotent and eventually something unwanted always seeps through, everything suffers, everyone dies, the pyramid crumbles and the capstone falls.



The self-glorifying rich, the sadistic, the corrupt and those with merciless ambition who abuse, ignore and exploit the poor, the gullible and the victims of this world will return to dust. They will meet their fate. The law of karma or "cause and effect" will prevail, whether in this life or the next. 

Or at least that's what peasants like me tell each other. It makes us feel better about our marginalized existence, but really? Leonard Cohen was right:

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

I originally ended this blog with ill will, encouraging, Jana, for example, to perform Joga "tricks" until she developed an unsightly rash and itched so badly that her hair fell out by its bleached roots. But then I heard she'd been involved in a near-fatal head-on collision not long after The Real Housewives of Toronto finished taping, resulting in a long, painful recovery period. So I guess I'll take back my unkind "encouragement" and wish her well.

I also suggested Joan should down another bottle of wine and rip off another pair of panties until she projectile-vomited and a bacterial infection took over her urinary tract, but now that seems a little mean. So I'll take that back too and wish her the best of luck with Donald and his wandering eye. She's going to need it.

I furthermore thought Grego should yelp out another yahoo! until her voice became so hoarse that she croaked like a fucking toad. I told Ann to go ahead and inject some more filler into her face until her transformation into an unrecognizable mutant socialite good only for terrifying small children was complete. I thought Roxy could indulge to her gluttonous heart's content until her vanity and greed ballooned so far beyond the confines of her skull that her head blew up. However, I take it all back. May their futures be glaringly bright and blindingly illuminating.

But the shady men "lurking in the periphery"? My only wish for them is that they one day get everything they deserve.

The end.

Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 1: Dumb, Plastic and Sleazy
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 2: Boring Housewives and Ugly Husbands
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 3: The Polished Real Housewives of Toronto
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 4: The Slut Shame
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 5: Amazing Reality TV Stars
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 6: Infomercials and Friends in High Places
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 7: Social Suicide: Game of Thrones to the Rescue
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 8: Curious incuriosity
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 9: Denials, Dragons and Dummies
Real Housewives of Toronto, Episode 10, Season Finale: Final Absurdities

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.