I Like to Watch

Dec. 17, 2006 | Deez nuts of wisdom
With winter firming its grip on the land, the fragility of our existence comes into clear focus: The evenings are crisp and cold and quiet, the stars burn holes in the dark sky, and our hearts ache to think of how, like tiny flames, we flicker briefly and fizzle out without warning. On nights like these, I find myself turning to the classics, more often than not seeking solace in the immortal words of Jay-Z:

"Can I hit it in the morning,
without giving you half of my dough,
and even worse if I was broke,
would you want me?"

I treasure the frankness with which Mr. Z tackles the question of existence, wondering aloud whether the joys of life -- more specifically, "hitting it in the morning" -- will always be within reach. Yet, by the next line, he becomes almost accusatory:

"If I couldn't get you finer things
like all of those diamond rings bitches kill for,
would you still roll?"

Strange, this slightly condescending reference to the things "bitches kill for," since Mr. Z clearly identifies with those he addresses since he, too, finds himself possessed by voracious desires that feel fleeting and untrustworthy. Next, he becomes pensive, yet almost hopeful in spite of himself:

"If we couldn't see the sun risin' off the shore of Thailand
would you ride then, if I wasn't drivin'?"

Here, Mr. Z poses a haunting question: Are all of the pleasures of life contingent on forces beyond our control? After a brief digression, he continues:

"If I couldn't flow futuristic
would you put your two lips
on my wood and kiss it, could you?"

Each time I return to this passage, I'm struck by the honesty with which Mr. Z reveals his deepest fears: Is he more to those around him than the sum of his talents? By equating the ritualistic demonstration of love with the promise of eternal life, he marginalizes the object of his affections and thereby marginalizes his own importance relative to the vast, unknowable expanse of human existence.

Despite the hopelessness evoked by this lofty inquiry, I find it soothing, somehow, to recognize that I am not alone: Human beings have struggled with these very same questions for thousands of years! Or at least since 1998.

Transcontinental gangbang
I found myself wrestling with the futility of life again this week, in the wake of an existential crisis brought on by -- what else? -- the finale of "The Amazing Race."

Now, in the olden days, truth-seekers might be afforded a taste of the evanescent nature of human existence by trudging off into the woods, building tiny cabins with their own bare hands and forming meaningful friendships with the little woodland creatures they encountered. Today, though, we get a glimpse of the insignificance of human life whenever the final episode of a reality show airs. At these junctures, we invariably find ourselves looking back over the adventurous and unpredictable times we spent in the company of a ragtag assortment of human beings, whether traveling with them all over the globe in pursuit of a million-dollar prize or merely spending time drinking and cavorting with them in a nearby city to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start being real, but in either case sharing with them countless triumphs and disappointments along the way. At the end of this time together, we're so often forced to ask ourselves, "Why?"

As in, "Why did I watch this crap for so many weeks?" Because inevitably, after so much shared struggle and heartbreak, we find that we can hardly remember a single detail from our time with these strangers. Also, in the case of "The Amazing Race," the entire competition boils down to one missed flight or one wrong turn or one less-than-efficient dash across a few city blocks. On Sunday night, within a matter of minutes, Lyn and Karlyn, the first two-woman team to make it to the final three of the race, went from being contenders to being out of the running completely. They failed to secure tickets for the first flight to New York City. One wrong move, and that's the last we see of Lyn and Karlyn until the finish line.

Vanquished from the race so anticlimactically, after all they'd been through! Putting up with those nasty beauty queens who referred to them as "the sistas" behind their backs, enduring one physical challenge after another against far more physically fit teams, tolerating the recklessly charitable Cho Brothers with their maladaptive strategy of moving as a big, friendly herd from one challenge to the next and "helping each other," see also: slowing each other down. After all of that, after managing to snap at each other just once, Lyn and Karlyn lost because of a single bad decision: In Paris, they drove to the airport in Orly, when the earliest flight to the states was available at the much-larger Charles de Gaulle. Just as Jay-Z pondered whether his luck in winning love was contingent on his ability to "flow futuristic," so, too, must Lyn and Karlyn have wondered if their chance at a million dollars was blown by their lack of knowledge of Parisian airports.

Next page: Meddling producers and the tragic unfairness of reality TV