Told to do whatever they thought necessary to capture the attention of the show's executive producers, about half the applicants I watched ran out of things to say before their allotted time expired. Somewhere in the recondite corners of their minds contestant wannabes are convinced that if a camera points at them long enough, they will be transmogrified into someone whose life is really worth living. It seems that most applicants are more attracted by the chance of having their current reality obliterated and replaced than by the experience of betraying their peers in a bucolic setting. After all, they can do that at the company picnic. But being on TV gives people a sense of being desired, a sense of being known and a sense of being powerful.
Reality shows are an adolescent society's dream.
In this newest sub-brand of fame, it's only after convincing millions of people that you have little to offer that your life suddenly takes on extraordinary significance. A thousand brave hipsters stood in line in the cold for the chance to tape an audition. And to some degree, it's true. The media has been making minor deities out of chefs, hairstylists, personal trainers, plastic surgeons, dentists, astrologers and little kids trapped in wells for decades now. When life disappoints, reality shows can offer a quick fix.