MTV's Made: Become Something You're Not

Becky Stevenson was always the model student; her grades far exceeded her social skills, and in class she was always silent unless called upon.  Generally regarded as disgusting by her peers, she had no friends and thusly walked the sullied halls of Washing High School a specter, a pale ghost with pigtails, glasses, and a way of hunching in her shoulders that made her look even smaller and more fragile.  She had accepted her fate, and as such thought often of the future, during which time all her efforts in school would pay off, and she would be rich and famous and laughing in all the faces of those who had so wrongly written her off as insignificant.

But then one day MTV's Made crew came to her school, as part of a campaign which combed the schools for potential television personalities without any of the hassles of actually having to pay them.  They came and ended up telling her who she was wasn't really good enough, that a happy future would only come if she somehow conformed to a certain stereotype of a happy, successful person with shit tons of friends who will probably turn out to be a bunch of phonies anyway.

They held auditions in the auditorium, and lots of d-bags came to state their case and level of douche baggery, though at the end of the day none of them had been picked.  MTV was about to pack up its shit and go plague another high school when little Becky Stevenson walked on stage.  She was clutching her notebook in front of her, almost as if she were using it as a chest plate for protection from the mighty and scornful eyes of MTV.  If they said no, she knew it could very well kill her, that was if she didn't already think she was dead.

Before she could squeak out any sort of a statement MTV swooped in for the rescue, and was full of hey's and hello's and how are you's and they took her into the principals office and he signed off on papers, and she signed off on papers, and her parents came and signed off on papers, and before you knew it, the quietest girl in the world was about to be asked to partake in a television show.

"Now now, Becky, I'm sure you're familiar with the show."  One of the producers said, a real slick d-bag who in some circles was known as a swinger and embezzler of ladies brassieres.  "We come in and help turn kids like you into kids like them..."  He pointed out the window at a group of stuck-up bitches, who above anything else were firm believers in their superiority in every way, to everyone else.

"What?"  She said politely.  "What show?  I was just going to. . ."

"Oh she's nervous."  He smiled.  "Don't worry, we're gonna make you into one of them, the popular kids."

"I don't wanna be them."

"Oh of course you do."

So without many more hassles, after many mentions of signed contracts and the bindings that come with them, MTV eventually got its way and Becky was thrust into the shitty world of MTV reality television.  Since Becky had no other persona she wished to be MADE into, MTV provided her with one:  Cheerleader.

They gave her a MADE coach, to help her along with the process, a lady simply named 'Adam:'

U-G-L-Y you aint go no alibi
You're ugly, yeah yeah, You're ugly

And oh how 'Adam'  worked young Becky, with mile long sprints around the neighborhood, stretching routines which not only tested her body but her mind mentally, slave hours in the gym running on treadmills that led to nowhere, and even laps in the pool (just so Adam could see Becky all wet and in a bathing suit.)  Routines were driven home with hammer like aggression, and under the creepy and rather oppressive glare of MADE Coach Adam, Becky came to some what resemble a cheerleader.

This was good, because poor Becky was gonna have to compete in a cheer leading competition, with girls who had been indoctrinated in the sport as soon as they were old enough to walk.

Youch.  How embarassing.

But first, she had to be made to look like a cheerleader.

Glasses were tossed aside, the victims of a much cooler way of seeing that didn't include head gear, but rather just contacts that could be placed on the eyeball wahhla!;  pig tails were unpinned, let loose to squeal about her back and shoulders, hair was chopped and conditioned and run through with all the finest chemicals known to the stylist world.  Eyebrows were plucked and shaped into menacing arching furs above the eyes.  Make-up was aptly applied in colors deep blue and rose.

  

Later the body would be daubed with hot wax and hair would be ripped from its pores about the legs and armpits.

With the image complete, all that was left to do was to go out on the stage and make a fool of herself.  Yes, but it isn't put this way, its always a phony uplifting moment, where the MADE coach gives a speech and tells their trainee that they can do it!  by God they can do it! Becky went out with a squad of ninja cheerleaders, and did a routine that included a beheading and lots of awesome flips. . . It was truly the story of Yojimbo, only with skinny teenagers and pom poms.

Artist's Portrayal

With the competition over, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to wait.  The judges tallied their scores as the crowd hummed with dispersed quips about nothing at all.  Backstage was tense, teenage girls waiting for that moment when they would squeal in victory or cry in defeat, either way the announcements were sure to turn the back into a slaughter house of squealing littles piggies.

Becky and The Ninjas didn't win third place.

Nor did they win second. . .

When the winner was finally announced, the crowd burst forth from their chairs to shower the winners with their adoration.  Hands went wild, children bounced in chairs, and the proud parents beamed bright enough it was obvious to every parent around them that their offspring were the ones who now held the first place trophy, and not theres.  And after the trophy was raise Adam the Made coach charged from out of the back, racing past the winners and down the aisle, never to be seen from again.

Becky left the stadium with her parents on both sides of her, the faint sound of crying muffled by a coat she wore high up around her face.  She didn't want to be on television anymore.  She didn't want to be seen by anyone.  Although she didn't win the competition (or even place,) she still felt like a cheerleader, and knew that she had transformed into a different being.  With teary eyes she thought of next year, and hoped to join the school cheer leading squad, and was excited by all the new things that would come with it.  She knew that eventually, one day, that she might become so blessed as to be one of them; popular and content and capable of practically anything. . .

Quickly forgetting who she once was, and what content she had before.

MTV's Made teaches kids that who they are simply isn't good enough, which is perhaps the last thing any teenage kid stuck in The Great Suck (high school) should ever, ever hear. The retardation of the teens is evident, but alas it is not their fault my dear colleagues!  No, tis a calamity that results from societal pressures, human nature, and having a brain only seventeen years old.  The real retardation comes from MTV.  For instead of giving these kids any real advice, or instead fortifying the talents that they already have, the things that already make them unique and therefore fuckin' cool, they tell em the exact opposite and furthermore help them become whatever stereotype they foolishly wished to be.

And in between all the commercials bombard viewers with acne medicines competing with one another, sometimes one right after one another, and weight loss commercials and technical school commercials.

Talk about some real shit.

I mention MTV's Made because their 200th episode is approaching, a real big deal, or so MTV would like you to think.  What's hard for me to believe is that this show is still around, and that nobody has really said anything about it.  Am I the only one that finds this show a little off-putting?  I mean all the awkward kisses and date invitations from losers on the show are a bit much to watch.

The only lulz from this show is when the kid is trying to be the complete opposite of what he really is like:

Like this kid, Mikey Ramos, who loves dancing, commenting on how well dressed all the girls are at school (even though he's the self-proclaimed diva of the whole school,), oh, and he also loves wearing a Dracula cape. . . And what does he want to be MADE into you ask?  Well a baseball player, which isn't really all that funny until you factor in the fact that like Mikey Ramos has an INTENSE fear of getting hit with the ball.

Or this kid, Brandon, who's obviously over weight.  He loves junk food and junk food.  What does he want to be MADE into?  A fucking tri-athelete.  I SHIT YOU NOT.

And now I'm hungry.

Anyway, yada yada yada iR declares MTV's Made: tragically retarded.

love,

iR