With reality shows destroying the traces of what once was good about
television; channels are busy thinking up different kinds of moronic talent shows. While some claim to be hunting for the best band, others claim to be looking for the best voice, and yet some others are hunting for the complete idol-one that the country can idolize. In fact, none of those shows is about music, all of it is about escaping, but I am rushing myself. Talent hunts serve as a wonderful platform for talent which otherwise would not have a chance to showcase itself. People from all walks of life, all ages participate in these televised shows. While only a hand few are truly talented, most of the applicants are encouraged that the judges might see them as they perceive themselves. While for channels it is all about reapinghigher ratings for the participants its more about reaching their five minutes of TV fame. Unfortunately popularity lasts only as long as the contest does and these faded stars are a reminder that success can be transient unless backed by genuine talent and discipline. But the success and ratings of these shows is not a matter of quality programming. It stems from the deeper desire of the viewers to see someone who will surprise everyone with his/her talent and flourish in a way no one expects. This will keep alive the illusion that this same future is possible for all of us with our hidden talents, because we project ourselves on all of these plain characters when they appear for the first time.

There is a great similarity between reality talent shows and escapist
fiction. Escapist fiction is fiction which provides a psychological escape
from thoughts of everyday life by immersing the reader in exotic situations or activities. The trick is usually that the main protagonist is very loosely described so that most readers can see themselves in that role, and that all other characters are described in so much detail that we see them in our mind’s eye. The next step of escapist fiction is to present a barely reasonable and imaginable setting in which a gorgeous blonde, or a hundred year old vampire can fall in love with the main character who is actually a metaphor for plain old me. This literature succeeds because it warms up this fantasy every now and then and people read it to feed their egos and keep alive the hope that they too can end up with idealized unreal extra-smart supermodels who have eyes only for pale, overweight, average people with no special skills or talents.

The main piece of evidence for this is the Twilight saga and its offshoots. It feeds on the idea of paranormal romance. It’s all the benefits of being a vampire without the sacrifices. There the vampires walk around sparkling in the daylight and some are vegetarians. But that part is less important because the focus is on the part which is tied to a lot of our communal fears. Fear of aging. Fear of fading youth. Fear of loneliness. But whereas the classic themes are more concerned with confronting and overcoming our fears, the fears of the paranormal romance genre become twisted fantasies of denial. The idea of staying young, attractive and powerful for eternity feeds into the modern self-absorbed ethos. This literature doesn’t build the human character but it promotes false hope and creates a world of hurt for those who buy into the hype.

In my childhood when I got my own room for the first time I decorated it with wall posters I created with quotes about life which were so inspiring and optimistic that it helped my adolescent spirit dream big. Once we had some friends visiting and one of them came to my room. He smirked at one of the quotes and said it was rubbish. I dismissed his smirk as the pessimism of an old man, but I came to realize, as so very often that he was right. The quote had it all wrong and life is not a game for the thinking man, but it is an obstacle course and you hit yourself too often in order to learn how to jump high enough. The real world is a complicated and messy place which markets success only at the very high price of blood, toil, sweat and tears, as once remarked by Churchill. Expecting anything else is just opening the doors to a lot of disappointment. But that is not that bad.

To draw from another quote from my wall, miss-attributed to Mother
Theresa, “I know God won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.” The mere fact that we are burdened with life is proof that we can handle it. So, chin up, keep it real, and remember, there is nowhere to run.