Somewhere, in an office in Hollywood, where all the people resemble plastic Barbie and Ken Dolls, somebody with a wicked bone in her body hates fat people. Her name is Lisa Ann Walter. Hmmm... she thought. How can I absolutely ridicule fat people without letting on that I am making fun of them? After brainstorming for awhile she came up with an idea: What if I started a TV program that features plus-sized contestants who dress up in clothes meant to fit small children and put them in a dance competition... All under the guise that they will lose weight? Wiley Coyote, you are a genius! Thus, Dance Your Ass Off was born. Thank God for reality TV. Or perhaps more accurately, thank the devil for his part in the decline of our modern culture. We pay pretty good money for the privilege to have satellite television, and though it's nice to have baseball at hand when ever I want it, I am amazed at the crap that fills up the channels in between. Screw health care... Our government needs to regulate reality TV. It's at a point now where nothing is unabashed or taboo, and it seems to recreate itself based off it's own model of trailer park entertainment. Like modern day Black Death, it has spread to unthinkable levels. The more we tune in to it, the bigger grasp it has on our society, and the more it drowns us with it's immoral declination. Thanks to the Oxygen channel, we are prone to a Labor Day marathon of such immoralization. If I wanted to watch fat people dance, I could just go up the road to the Southside Bar. Living in Iowa where the girls are cornfed on potatoes and Iowa Beef, it's not uncommon to see big girls tearing it up under the strobe light. These gals seem to travel in packs like wolves... Coming into the bar later at night when the young drunk buck is more likely to consider taking them home, maybe... and they think nothing of stepping onto the dance floor and shaking their gelatin in some kind of mesmerizing ritualistic tremble to gain that young buck's attention. Living in Iowa has it's advantages, but going to the Southside late at night is not one of them. It's too bad Chris Farley left us early because he and his SNL mates would have a hey-day making a parody of Dance Your Ass Off. Just the same it is all good. He might not have lived long enough to see the reality television genre, so in that sense he has out-survived us all.