Celebrity Wives, When Does it Stop? Why Reality Shows Need to End

Blame Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey. They started this. And I'm not talking about wack pop music; that actually predates them. What I'm talking about is the entertainment equivalent of a migraine -- housewife reality television co-starring comically emasculated men schlepping behind their significant others. Watching this stuff makes my head feel like it's going to explode. And thank you, too, MTV, for being the first network to green-light the end of quality television as we knew it.

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But for members of BlackVoices Nation who enjoy quasi-celebrity couples getting their Jessica and Nick on, then you should be rubbing your hands together in anticipation of E!'s newly announced show, 'Khloe and Lamar.' Straight from the cookie cutter for shows like this, the two will share the hijinks that ensue in their everyday unscripted lives (wink, wink). Speaking of sharing, they're also rolling out a new unisex fragrance called Unbreakable (watch the ad here) that features the slogan "there's something sexy about a couple sharing a scent." Yeah, I'm not sure if I share that opinion, so allow me to double-down and pass on the 'Khloe and Lamar' show as well as their androgynous cologne/perfume.

Meanwhile, rumors are that Vanessa Bryant is pitching her own housewife reality show to cable networks but has yet to find any takers. I'm guessing that Kobe isn't attached to the project or else it would have been picked up by now. Adding smoke to the crack pipe of the addictive housewife reality genre is word that Vanessa and Khloe actually hate each other in real-real life. Think Israel and Palestine, Verizon and AT&T, Sarah Palin and professional growth. There are irreconcilable differences that the two sides can't overcome.

But instead of watching more celebrity couples jump on the reality bandwagon, I wish we could throw them all underneath it. Give me a bottle of top-shelf vodka and I'll drive it myself. Angst aside, reality shows will go on as the American viewing audience has proven to be agreeable to swapping smartly written, well-acted content for the guilty pleasure of watching fake reality. I mean, it's not even authentic; it's Vanilla Ice. And I'll turn it off twice, twice baby just to make sure the power button on my remote doesn't stick. I can't watch.

Then again, I'm an unabashed pop culture snob. I'm the same media malcontent who can't even watch local television news without ranting about the abbreviated five minutes of actual news that simply serves as the opening act for 25 minutes of weather and sports.

So what is it with the insatiable supply and demand of reality television? I understand that the participants in the shows are in it for monetary gain and other self-aggrandizing reasons, but what about us? What do we get out of train wreck television? Are viewers, particularly women, simply entertained by it or are some of them living vicariously through the cooked-up misadventures of the rich and infamous? Is the contrived drama a distraction from the monotonous daily routine of their real lives? I'm at a loss. For men, I get it though. We're hoping for a cat fight, a nip slip, some pixelated nudity. Yes, I know. It's head-shaking sad.

Well, whatever the reasons are, gender-specific or not, one thing is true: All good things must come to an end (uhm...HBO's 'The Wire'). So I guess this bodes well for housewife reality television because it's not good and thus it's not coming to an end anytime soon. Go figure.

Mason Jamal writes about men, women and popular culture. For more of his musings, visit www.masonjamal.com. To have his commentary delivered to your e-mail, subscribe here. Keep up with Mason's daily thoughts and observations by following him on Twitter @masonsays.