Reality Bites

Reality Bites: Bristol Palin: Life's A Tripp

There are a million reality shows on the naked television. We're going to watch them all, one at a time.

Members of both political parties are fond of trumpeting the virtues of the American Dream, that mythic end stage when a person is awarded for years of hard work and perseverance with prosperity. Theoretically.

We place less value on that kind of thing now, though. If reality programming is any indication, simply being undeservedly rich is often enough. Kim Kardashian isn't emblematic of any achievement based on ability -- maybe the Kardashians who first came over from Armenia, but certainly not any of the current crop. The Real Housewives milk their understandably absent husbands for Botox and vodka funds, while most of those Million Dollar Listing guys owe their plush real estate gigs to their parents.

And if you can't be rich, just be weirdos. The Pawn Stars are basically one step above grave robbers, and we apparently can't get enough of underaged kids eloping or human wreckage forcing their children to live out their failed dreams.

Sometimes, however, there is convergence of undeserved fame complemented by severe delusion. Welcome to the world of Bristol Palin, daughter of a once inexplicably popular governor and catapulted into the spotlight by virtue (?) of her own unintended teen pregnancy. The result, Bristol Palin: Life's a Tripp, is comically bad, a clueless endeavor so half-assed I doubt it'll last through an entire season.

You know, kind of like Mom's term as governor.

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Peter Vonder Haar writes movie reviews for the Houston Press and the occasional book. The first three novels in the "Clarke & Clarke Mysteries" - Lucky Town, Point Blank, and Empty Sky - are out now.
Contact: Pete Vonder Haar