satan is alive and well and hosting a prime-time gameshow

"the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

For those who haven’t seen it, the premise is a bit convoluted for a game show, certainly one based entirely on chance. The contestant chooses a case from twenty six, a case that contains an amount of money anywhere from one cent to one million dollars, or at least contains a sign signifying that amount. Forbidden from seeing what amount their case contains, they have to pick from among the remaining cases to see what amounts aren’t inside their case. After each round of eliminating cases (and reducing the possibilities of what’s inside the contestant’s case), someone off stage factors the remaining (unrevealed) amounts versus the odds of the contestant’s case containing serious money, then phones in with an offer to “buy” back the case, to choose between the “deal” of taking the money offered (followed by the potentially humiliating revealing of how much their case contained), or “no deal”- which means another round of opening cases, increasing or decreasing the chances of winning. This at first sounds highly complicated, but like roller derby and anal intercourse, makes sense after a little experience.

You would think a game show where everyone is guaranteed some kind of cash prize for essentially doing nothing but picking numbers would provide a positive, everybody wins experience for the viewer, but these are the late years of Bush’s America, and “Deal or No Deal” perfectly reflects the national zeitgeist of doom and futility. This is not “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”, which was strangely comforting in its’ promise of rewarding us for all being repositories of useless information and trivia. It’s not even the early Bush years freak-show of “Fear Factor”; as disturbing as it was to know that there is a seemingly endless supply of young people eager to debase themselves for a few minutes of primetime exposure, the cash prize was never the motivating factor for appearing on that show, so, in a way, all the contestants won, each achieving the personal dream of having millions of strangers watching as they, stripped almost naked, gag and retch over their meal of maggots and bull testicles.

But “Deal or No Deal” isn’t about how much you know about geography and the 1957 Academy Awards, and it isn’t about the Pretty People debasing themselves for forty minutes of attention, it’s about the money, and the desperate need for money. It’s not a coincidence that all the contestants have heart-breaking stories of deprivation and need; they’re carefully chosen and groomed to tell the most moving story of woe. But this show is not about personal tragedy or the capricious nature of life, it’s about the promise of reward for the hard-working, long-suffering Little People of the world. The contestants have the unwavering, unquestioned conviction that, no matter how tough life can be, no matter what sacrifices have to be made and how many humiliations borne, as long as you remain humble and keep faith in your heart, you will someday receive your just reward. It is the emphasis on this belief, the spectacle of the contestants entering the show with near psychotic mania that this is, finally, their opportunity to inherit the earth, that transforms “Deal or No Deal” from being a mere game show into something far more dark and disturbing.

a wide variety of what you'll never have

Unlike most game shows, class distinction is a serious factor on “Deal or No Deal”; it’s made explicitly clear that the contestants are lower-middle class, going so far as to have a recent NASCAR themed episode. There was an earlier episode where the offer made included the brand-new tractor the contestant had always longingly dreamed of owning, causing him a complete emotional breakdown when one of the showgirls drove it out on stage. More perverse is the heavy reliance on military families; as if compensating for their absence from the rest of television, a disturbing number of contestants are the spouses or parents of soldiers serving in Iraq. There was even a mid-show Marine parade, a patriotic spectacle of flags and dress uniforms and scrubbed young men, some of whom will probably die or return crippled from Iraq.

These are Bush’s Americans: not the Americans whose interests he serves- their number is far too small to elect anything bigger than a country club president- but the vast multitude of mostly silent Americans who provide Bush with his vital lower-middle class base. These are the people who largely voted to keep Bush in office, partly because out of the (irrational) fear that gay marriage threatens the validity of their own unions, and partly because of his tax-cuts for the rich. A percentage of Americans support his tax agenda well beyond the number of those who actually benefit from such cuts, not out of a loyal desire to reward their bosses, and certainly not because anyone actually believes the nonsense of trickle-down economics, but out of the bedrock conviction that, at any moment, they will be whisked up the class ladder to their rightful place among the affluent minority. It is astounding that the Republican Party’s war against the inheritance tax -cynically repackaged as the ‘death tax’- would gain any traction with the vast majority of Americans who will never inherit a sum more than the six million dollars (the amount where the tax kicks in), and that it did reveals that perhaps too many people cling to the fantasy of someday turning out to be the sole heir of some reclusive, unknown rich uncle. Disgusting shows built around ultra-affluent excess, like “The Simple Life” and “My Super Sweet Six”, can only be stomached if the viewer clings to the hope of someday being among the spoiled and vacuous. The only other value of these shows is as recruitment material for radical leftist groups, the forced labor and reeducation camps of the Khmer Rouge suddenly no longer seeming like the worst idea in the world.

an Indiana home-maker (and wife of Iraq veteran) gets to meet and receive
advice from the object of her life-long obsession, mid-90's pop group Hanson

This is the same Cinderella self-delusion that crowds the casinos and lottery ticket lines. Living in a neighborhood that includes a large number of the economically disadvantaged, it is depressing to the extreme to stand in line behind someone throwing away more than a hundred dollars that they could certainly use elsewhere in their life. I’m not passing judgment on gambling per say, and consider it a vice no better or worse than any others, when engaged in with moderation. But moderation has no place in fulfilling dreams, and you don’t deserve to have those dreams fulfilled if you’re not willing to risk it all. On one episode of “Deal or No Deal” there was a woman playing with the sole goal of buying a nice home for her mother, who had greatly sacrificed to put the contestant through college to become an elementary school teacher (her entire fifth grade class was in the audience to give moral support). She had a surprisingly good steak of luck, getting to an offer of about three hundred thousand dollars. On national television, she openly wept as her friends encouraged her with assurances that she deserves this, that after so many difficult struggles in life she deserves to finally win for once. Nodding in agreement as she wiped away the tears, she said, “you know it, Lord, you know I deserve this”. Convinced that the one million dollar top amount would soon be hers, she passed on the offer. The million dollars turned out to be in the next case opened, and in the end she went home with only four thousand.

That episode perfectly expresses the true message of “Deal or No Deal”; everybody loses. While I personally think being paid four grand to stand there saying numbers for half an hour is a pretty sweet gig, I’m also not laboring under the belief that I will ever once be handed a check for one million dollars. I have yet to see a single episode where the contestant did not announce with absolute certainty that the case they chose in fact contains the million dollars. At first I assumed this was a false enthusiasm suggested by the show’s producers, but watching the way people consistently play, I’m inclined to believe they actually think this. There is a point in almost every episode where the offer has risen into the six digit range, sometimes more than a quarter million, and always more than enough to fulfill the dream they initially stated as their goal. But egged on by the audience,the loved ones they brought along and their own growing greed, they almost always pass on the offer, out of the theologically unsound belief that God would choose a game show to reward their devotion. As if scripted by some brilliant but evil hand, the remaining large amounts are quickly knocked out of play, and the contestant limps home with far less than they could have had.

"Since Satanism is essentially a religion of the self, it holds that the
individual and his personal needs comes first."
Anton Levay

The humiliation of the contest runs deeper then just blowing the chance at serious money. It seemed strange at first that they would select for the show’s host Howie Mandel, someone whose comedic career entered its’ decline around the same time as Yakov Smirnov’s, but then I realized what a cruelly brilliant choice Mandel is. Unlike the baby-voiced, twitching spazz with a rubber glove over his head that brought him fame in the ‘80s, the new satanic-appearing Howie Mandel alternates between mock-concern and barley concealed contempt as the contestant falls. It is bad enough to lose your one shot at happiness because of your own unchecked greed, but then to have to take the insincere sympathy of someone who- by any reasonable standards- shouldn’t be allowed on television... The reality is not only is Howie Mandel far, far richer than you’ll ever be, if he hasn’t nailed half of the case-carriers, it’s because he chooses not to.

Someday, people will look back on this time, trying to make sense of the Bush years. Hopefully, they’ll quickly stumble on old copies of “Deal or No Deal”, a perfect starting point to consider Bush’s legacy. This show uniquely offers an opportunity to actually see the individuals who have provided so much political collateral; from Iraq veterans to Katrina survivors, from New York firemen to devote Christians, from struggling small business owners to stay at home moms- “Deal or No Deal” is a parade of all the extras who occupied the background during the Bush saga. If “Deal or No Deal” is read as a metaphor for life in George Bush’s America, there’s no other possible ending then the one that closes each show-everyone leaves with their hopes destroyed and feeling betrayed for ever believing….everyone leaves a loser.

this man has been laid more than you...a lot, lot more

I need to pay closer attention to dates

I'm ashamed that I didn't know about this (or even pay attention to the date) until it was too late. Thankfully, I just discovered it on Tainted Love's journal, so at least I can get it now. It is dangerous that we continue to frame the Pro-Choice/Anti-Abortion conflict like it's some Pepsi/Coke debate. It is naive of us to continue to vote for candidates regardless of where they stand on this issue. And it is obscene of Pro-Choice men to continue to stand on the sidelines watching women fight for their lives while they do nothing.

Calling all film dorks!!

Or, at least the ones in the Chicago area. I'm interested in starting some kind of film club, to informally gather and watch selected titles, perhaps discussing them after. I'd want to include a wide range of movies; exploitation, euro-sleaze, horror, cult, lost classic, pyschotronic, camp, experimental, underground, whatever. If you live in the Chicago area and have any interest, leave a comment or e-mail me at address included in my profile. Thanks, Jason.