Fall Back? Nah. Spring Ahead!

Posted on 29 September 2011

After the strains of The Star Spangled Banner and other rousing national paeans fade, we finally uncover the real America.  The real America is alive and well on The Jerry Springer Show.

Here, on display for all the world to see, we find the unsolved problems of our country.  Here, the words, “Oh, say can you see,” have new meaning.  Here, we watch the Sad Sacks of our country tell it like it is, their sagas punctuated by foul mouthed throw-downs, liberally flying fisticuffs, and the refereeing of Springer’s trained bodyguards, ahem, springing into action.

 Without lengthy courtroom trials or legal judgments, we witness, five times a week and in the space of an hour, the resolution to a plethora of undesirable situations.  These include the beautiful blonde pregnant with the child of a dirt bag who’s secretly in love with his ex-cellmate, the mother screwing her daughter’s husband, and the 450 pound transvestite who can’t understand why he (she???) must suffer slings and arrows when parading in public while crammed into day-glow Spandex.

Lest you think this show is merely concerned with sensationalism and ratings jumping as high as my blood pressure does when I so much as look at a hot dog, think again.  Jerry and his peeps are genuinely concerned with human suffering, and they’ve proven it.  Time and again, they’ve offered to perform free DNA testing on the love children of women who’ve dallied with an average of seven paramours.  But, Springer and his crew don’t stop there; they go the extra mile.  They reveal the DNA results in upcoming shows!

Those are not all the perks for the all-too-willing guests, for they fulfill Andy Warhol’s prophesy.  What?  You forgot the prophesy of the late, great painter of soda cans?  This artistic genius postulated that everyone would come to enjoy his or her fifteen minutes of fame (okay, forty minutes on the Springer show, with commercial breaks).  Without the  angst of the casting coach or the bloodthirsty competition of vying for a record contract, guests achieve instant notoriety via Springer’s generosity!  Why, he even allows the audience to participate in the fun and games.

As in the ancient gladiator contests, the live spectators are the final decision-makers. With thumbs up or thumbs down to the guests, this group gleefully determines the resolution to multitudinous loads of dirty laundry aired on national television.  At home, the viewing public doesn’t get to vote.  But that little detail doesn’t trouble them, for they get their kicks their own way.  They are sadists, you see, who delight in the stories of Les Miserables (the miserable ones).  Like hyenas, they relish tearing the last shreds of meat from the bones of Springer’s guests.


The genius at the helm of this popular program is to be lauded for having brought the upstanding tenets of the Marquis De Sade to modern America.  A 17th century aristocrat, de Sade attained fame through his erotic writings and lifestyle, which elevated enjoyment of the pain of others to an art form.  Springer’s show has not, as of this writing, resorted to whips and chains.  But, I have faith in him! 

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