I'm a bit behind on my blogging.  I've wanted to do this blog for a little while but now is as good a time as any.  Because apparently, February is the time to debut new redneck shows.  I don't know what it is about redneck reality TV stars, whether it's their, charm, or their wit, or perhaps it is watching grown men do for a living what junior high boys tend to draw in their notebooks.  "Look this is me fighting an alligator!"  "Look I'm cutting down trees with the giant chainsaw attached to a tractor!"  "This is a drawing of me catching catfish bigger than me with my bare hands!"  While some of the stars she shows seem like fun, interesting, otherwise reasonable human beings; the ones seem to make the best TV are the ones you wouldn't want to meet on a dare.  Hick TV is fascinating in the same way that an ant farm is fascinating.  I don't want to meet the ants, I don't want to get to know them, I just want to watch them do whatever they would do completely oblivious to my presence.  The vast majority of these shows scoop up a bunch of rednecks and mud and press them firmly between two plates of glass and bring them into your home nicely sealed and framed, ready for observation.

The ranks of these redneck gawk fests only continue to grow.  I have lost count of the number of Cajun and/or Southern themed reality TV shows there are on basic cable alone.  But two channels rise above their competitors as the king and queen of southern fried weirdness.  The History Channel and the Discovery Channel should really change their names.  Perhaps it could be called the Cajun history Channel and Discover the Deep South.  Where I must give them some credit, however, is the fact that they aim for the most part to invest much more in their characters… mostly.  They do tend to find out much more about the individuals and their story before trotting out the spectacle that is their weird job or obsession.  And I can't stop watching.

The tone of this blog may be somewhat judgmental.  But it is only judgmental in the way that smoker is judgmental about what ingredients may been put into his cigarettes while he buys another case.  In fact, I have to thank the History Channel.  They have done such an excellent job of turning life-and-death situations and weird cultures and values into entertainment with good production value that I don't feel like the piece of crap rubbernecking gawker that I am.  I really, really am.  Thank you history Channel for taking the horrible roadside accident and putting up tasteful stage lighting and velvet seats and handing me a little card that says no one died so that I can feel just fine staring until my eyeballs fall out.