"Jersey Shore" and the decline and fall of Western civilization.

Hide yo' kids.

The past millennium has gifted the insatiable threshold that is humanity with a myriad of staggering works of a burdensome genius and heartbreaking beauty such as Shakespeare’s theatrical and poetical oeuvres, Cervantes’ Don Quixote and Caravaggio’s haunting portraits of saints and sinners alike: all of them pieces which summon from the wells of human struggle insight and knowledge. “Jersey Shore” is not one of those works.

Class.

MTV has decided that the human race has not suffered enough since the times of the Egyptian plagues or the Holocaust (by that matter) and thus began transmitting through the sad airwaves the bollocks that is the bedeviled “reality” show. For those who, fortunately, are not in the know, “Jersey Shore” showcases the obscenely decadent lifestyles of twenty-somethings, lucky enough to have won the mad dash towards the egg, co-habiting a beach house in, where else, fabulously droll New Jersey.

If you, gentle reader, could fathom taking the ungodly mixture of testosterone, indiscriminate promiscuity and below-national-average IQ, smothering it with crispity-crunchity gelled hair and dousing it with Jäger shots, then not only do you have the ultimate recipe for regret, but you also get the aberration that is the cast. Meet the main offenders: disgracing the masculine side are specimens dubbed “gorilla juiceheads” (after what this humble servant assumes to be their affinity for muscle enhancing drugs and bananas), who in their natural habitat (clubs, piers, any place where disgrace is to be had) prowl the streets, attempting to court creatures of the opposite kind by flailing their bulbous arms in the air wildly while shouting degrading comments towards the “beibis.” The (un)fairer sex features the likes of nobodies with names such as  Jenni “Jwoww” Farley (as though her booze-addled weekend romper-stompers weren’t excessive enough, the extra “w” should suffice). All of them are boy crazy and all of them are ludicrously tanned (so much so that they are often mistaken for the leather backseat of a 1979 Volvo.)

NOT EVEN FOUCAULT CAN SAVE YOU NOW

But those denizens of the degenerate masses are but proverbial chump change; enter Nicole Polizzi alias “Snooki”. Public enemy number one  Snooki embodies the collapse of the modern mind: departing Logicville towards Depravitytown via Degradation Ave. with a pit stop at Debaucheryburg. Perpetual clubbing and haphazard swapping of alcohol (and bodily fluids) have rendered this specimen with the intelligence of half a bar of soap. She was outwitted by a duck-shaped phone durin the show and the apparatus currently holds the spot as the second most intelligent object in the house, beating Vinny and falling second to the toaster oven. Sadly (or joyously) the only “normal” jobs available  for the cast post-show is either desperately trying to turn Network heads (tricks perhaps?) or working at Romano’s Macaroni Grill, shredding Parmesan cheese with their six-packs.

Parents, hide your kids, because as if this preposterous ensemble was not enough, the third season saw the inclusion of yet another feral child and (thankfully) the walking out on the show of another (preferably towards a knife) intensifying the polemic of actually deciding which building to jump off of. Not only are they growing, but expanding as well, partying in Miami for the second season and threatening the sanctity and mental hygiene of the birthplace of the Renaissance, Italy, for their upcoming fourth season. Before you know it, these “humans” will be taking over your gyms, sleazy nightclubs, Cheetoh-colored women and your last shred of dignity.

 Umberto Eco described "A Shore Thing" as a work of staggering genius.

“Jersey Shore” is a French philosopher’s nightmare: an embodiment of the global economic decadence of the times. If substance consumption and promiscuity are insatiable at the core, what then is left but a taping of the cast members’ spiraling descent towards the void? This obsession with the spectacle of degradation has been going on for too long and the perpetrators are these shows of the simulated “Real” which manage to turn human frontal lobes into mush with the consistency of Campbell’s soup. And here’s the kicker: for the third season’s premiere, more than 8.5 million viewers tuned in (which is more than Burundi’s total population. How did the people of Burundi find out about it is unknown, and how did Burundi end up in the article is also unknown.)

Christopher Columbus should be ashamed of what the New World has offered. “Jersey Shore” is but a symptom of a deeper and underlying spiritual crisis of our times which is exacerbated by people’s obsession with fame. My heart caves in a little when ever I see a person fist-pump. Not only is it sexually degrading, (both towards  male and female codes), but  is also ethno-culturally degrading with the “guido” (a racial epithet for Italian-Americans) narrative giving a terrible name to hardworking minorities across this hemisphere as well as establishing exaggerated beauty standards for impressionable youths. This show has as enough educational value as a weekend of binge-drinking with Billy Carter. Check your local listings to make sure you are nowhere near a television set during the witching hour it comes on. 

and all of America's flagellated  dicks.