Why I Love “The Bad Girls Club”

“The Bad Girls Club” on Oxygen is finally back. I absolutely love this show because it’s what every other “reality TV” show wants to be but isn’t. Below is the trailer for the new season and I think it’s going to be the best season yet.

The premise is simple: they pick the seven craziest women they can find from across the nation and stick them in a house together. They give them money and booze and then stand back and watch what happens. Now, let’s be honest, you couldn’t even put seven sane girls in a house together and expect them to actually get along for more than half an hour — because quite simply, all women are crazy — but when you add the extra-craziness of girls who have seen the show and still want to be on it to the mix, it’s just amazing television.

The show epitomizes exactly what’s wrong with women of this generation. They’re completely willing to air all of their dirty laundry on television in exchange for — not fame or fortune or even any sort of monetary compensation whatsoever — the opportunity to be on television. They get in front of the cameras and showcase their crazy for all the world to see, just so they can be in front of a camera and feel like they’re somehow important. It seems like women today have this incessant need to feel like they’re better than the next bitch. Sure, I get it, girls need attention the way Superman needs the sun. But it’s kind of sad the depths they’ll go to get it.

Some people have told me that they don’t like the show because it panders to the lowest common denominator of humanity, and this is true, but that’s exactly what I love it. It’s not like “The Real World” or “Flavor of Love” or “Rock of Love” where you might catch a fight if you tune in the right week, this is straight to the chase. You know that every week there will — not might — be a fight and that every week someone will — again, not might — cry over something stupid that doesn’t make any sense at all. And the best part is, no one actually gets kicked off for fighting. Last season Jennavicia and Tanisha got into a fistfight on the lawn in front of the cameras and everyone else and even pulled out each others extensions and neither of them was even asked to leave. It wasn’t until Jenn refused to do the retard-level job that they gave her of inviting people to the “parties” they were promoting, that she actually got the boot.

This show doesn’t operate under the false pretense of finding love or actually improving these girls lives like “Charm School” or “[Add quasi-famous persons moniker here] of Love,” it tells you from the beginning that you are here to watch seven crazy, alcohol-dependent nymphomaniacs tear each other apart for 12 weeks. All of them have obvious emotional deficiencies and very serious problems that they should seriously be seeking psychiatric and psychological help for, but Oxygen figures the best therapy for each of them is to be surrounded by six harlots that are as crazy as they are.

These girls are America. They are Tara Conner . They are Paris Hilton . They are Sarah Palin . They’re the unqualified, uneducated, untalented refuse that wouldn’t have passed for groupies in generations past but now serve as the role models and lightning rods for women of the next generation. They’re the girls who are so desperate for attention that they will do annnnnnything, and we love them for it. They pass because this country seems to love nothing more than having someone to gossip about, and who’s easier to gossip about than people we all know because we’ve seen them on TV? And we sit back and watch and talk about what a mess they all are, never really taking a look at how much they mirror the women in our own everyday lives — our daughters, our sisters, our friends, our loved ones. This behavior has become acceptable for women. When did this happen? When did this become acceptable behavior for anyone?

These girls all act like spoiled, trashy, entitled hookers and no one bats an eyelash because it’s entertainment. The great thing about the show “Dallas” from the ’80s was watching these crazy women do crazy things. What was great was that no one really did this in real life. I mean, certainly people really did it, but no one did it in public. And when it was done in public, we frowned upon it and called the people who partook uncouth or ghetto or uncivilized or white trash. As a society we used to frown on such behavior in real life, because when it was done for entertainment, it was entertaining, but in real life you couldn’t possibly be allowed to act like that.

Apparently no one has taught the women of this generation that, and “The Bad Girls Club” serves as an edification of that very sad fact. Somewhere in women’s struggle to garner the male attention that they hold so dear, they lost sight of where the line of acceptable behavior was drawn. I think “Girls Gone Wild” shaped this generation, and women — even the classiest of them — came to realize that to get the attention that they desired — nay, craved, needed even — they had to up the ante, and there’s been no one to say “Um…no, you can’t actually act like that in real life.”

The line between reality and entertainment has been so thoroughly blurred that porn stars can’t even make money anymore because everyone’s a porn star. Seriously, there’s no money in porn anymore because every girl in America is now willing to take her clothes off on the internet for a couple extra dollars in spending cash. Remember when porn was taboo? A lot of people say the internet killed porn, but what really killed porn — and trust me, porn as we know it is dead — was the influx of female talent en masse to the porn industry.

So rather than try to fight the good fight on behalf of feminism and femininity of days past, I’m content to sit back and watch these crazy bitches make complete fools of themselves on television. Because, it’s entertainment and I’m entertained. The really sad thing is that these women are going to be someone’s wife and mother someday. The next generation will be a generation raised by public concubines who resent the implication that they’re going to sleep with you just because they’re topless, giving you a lapdance and letting you snort lines of blow off their ass. They’re not strippers, they’re just having fun — on their terms; yay third wave feminism.

I love “The Bad Girls Club” because it’s this generation’s cry for help for and it doesn’t even know it. And also because it’s hilarious.