Life > April 6, 2006

By Christopher Browder

Old Gold & Black Columnist

It is well documented that in today’s world imperialism is not usually found in armies and puppet governments, but rather in the cultural domination of foreign lands. 

Here in America, instead of the old saying, “The sun never sets on the British Empire,” we might venture to say, “The sun never sets on American pop culture.”

Whether it is Hollywood movies, music or even clothing, the United States, for better or worse, has come to rule much of the world simply through our forms of entertainment. 

So you would think that through these popular media we would be glamorizing our own lifestyle, the American dream and everything else we supposedly love.  And when you see shows like The OC, Laguna Beach and My Super Sweet Sixteen, at first it seems like this is the case. 

On the surface, these shows are all about wealthy Americans (usually southern-Californians) and how awesome their lives are.  But in truth, they actually do the opposite. 

The OC, for example, showcases the upper crust of society living in a world of multi-million dollar houses, an infinite number of pools and luxury automobiles. 

But anyone who has ever seen a single episode is aware that this show is all about drama. 

Whether it’s illegitimate children, embezzlement scandals or just dysfunctional families, there is always some sort of trouble brewing. 

Now of course, the show is a drama, so there has to be conflict, but at the same time it does show these people, so often idealized by society, to be real, fragile human beings who have problems just like the rest of us. 

In fact, their problems almost always seem to be worse, and I never find myself wishing that I even remotely had their lives when I watch the show. 

It quietly makes the point that being young, hot and incredibly rich does not (necessarily) make you happy. 

The new Bravo series, The Real Housewives of Orange County, does exactly the same thing, but substitutes real people for fictional ones.  During the premiere, the show wasted no time as it immediately began to show us how boring, empty and sad these people’s lives can often be. 

Laguna Beach and Sweet Sixteen accomplish a similar feat, but through different means.  These programs, rather than show you the sad and ugly side of million-dollar living, demonstrate how much these people, especially the teenagers, can suck. 

Laguna Beach shows us what high school is like when everyone has the latest everything and thinks that they’re awesome because of it. 

As they cruise through their flippant and meaningless existences, these kids appear to glamorize their lives while actually inspiring countless Americans to wish that southern California could be cut off from the rest of the country. 

And what makes it even sadder is that you can tell that they think that they are making us want their lives.  They think we want to be them, and that just makes me want to be them even less. 

This is even truer in the case of My Super Sweet Sixteen. 

Honestly, I cannot sit through an entire episode of watching 16-year-olds talk about how much they “deserve” to have half a million dollars spent on their birthday celebration without yelling at the screen at least a dozen times and swearing to myself never to have children. 

Even more, it makes me hate money and those who have that much of it, not because I’m jealous, but because they are ruining their lives and the lives of their families. 

In short, we are witnessing the de-glamorization of the American dream, not because it is being found out as a myth, but rather that its ideals and goals are being found to be insufficient, unimportant and empty. 

And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.