I’ve been duped, my dear readers, and I’m here today to clear my conscience. Like many of you, I got caught up in Bravo’s Real Housewives reality show franchise. Those girls from Orange County lured me in with promises of glamour and gossip. Beverly Hills then ushered me behind the velvet ropes of Tinseltown and I was starstruck. Whenever I got a little too high from all that, let me tell you girlfriend, Atlanta kept it real! Homesick? There was a place at the kitchen table for me with the gals of New Jersey. But my heart has always been with the Real Housewives of New York City. You just can’t deny the chutzpah of those half dozen yentas swinging through that concrete jungle better known as Manhattan. Oy vey, to be 48 going on 32 again!
Last week, I found myself on my screened-in porch here in West Palm. I had spent the evening wrestling with RHONYC’s broad-shouldered bombshells. I could hear the cicadas blitzkrieging my lilies outside. A strange emptiness overcame me. It’s not easy being an older woman whose husband has long left her. Whole weekends pass by in a blur of varicose veins and ingrown toenails. There on my porch I was tempted to feel a little sorry for myself. Then the envy came. What God on High gave these women a monopoly on all the Pinot Grigio and chauffeured towncars in Gotham?
From Stalin to Sonja
Since I felt a bit meshuga, I decided to meditate on all this narrischkeit. Was I really harboring some burning hatred for these “housewives”? Why did they always end up having a ridiculous kerfuffle every single scene of every single episode? Then you throw in the ample libations, the fabulous clothing, the most exclusive restaurants, the private jets, the larger than life jewelry and the men! The men! This show’s chunky necklace budget alone must be in the hundreds of thousands! It was all a terrible spectacle… A spectacle that was intentionally inciting my blood pressure.
Do you know who else loved spectacles? Joseph Goebbels.
Indulge me for a moment while I dwell on a name I seldom mention. Goebbels, that Nazi master of propaganda with his ministry of fear. He made a career out of depicting a simple and Godly people as the epitome of evil. Under his watch, Jews were cast as diseased, money-grubbing degenerates who infected the true heart of a nation. Why does that sound so familiar?
Stalin, who knew a thing or two about persecuting Jews, also launched propaganda campaigns to “re-educate” the world. Today, we call that type of disinformation “agitation propaganda” or “agitprop” (something you little pishers with your Che t-shirts need to grasp). The communists wanted to seize all private property and establish a totalitarian government that would dictate every aspect of your life. To do this, they attacked the job creators and business leaders. They presented the rich of the world as cruel predators who sucked the lifeblood out of the working class. They labeled them as parasites living in a cocoon of conspicuous leisure. All wealth, in the eyes of the Bolsheviks, was evil.
When I watch Sonja and LuAnn and Aviva, I’m hit with a twinge of recognition. They’ve been cast as two-dimensional stereotypes, cheap parodies of sophistication thrown out there for the gawking lower middles who get off on a bit of voyeurism. The amount of bile and envy building up in viewers across the nation is palpable, and it’s obviously causing a political crisis.
The Pinot Grigio Putsch
Is it any surprise that we had the Occupy Wall Street Riots so soon after the Real Housewives franchise hit record viewership levels? Isn’t it suspicious that each city represented by this series also has a significant underground of socialists and community organizers? Is it more than just a coincidence that since this program started vilifying the wealthy, the rallying cry against the “One Percent” has reached a fever pitch in our halls of power? Why does each RHONYC character so perfectly overlap the very stereotypes of sexualized sloth that Stalin and Hitler used to stir up violence in the streets? It’s clear that there is a more than just a casual connection between this agitprop reality series and the recent surge of Obama’s socialism in America.
Take Ramona Singer for example. By any reasonable measure, this woman should be spotlighted as the star of the show. It’s hard not to love her honestly and forthrightness. She’s tough, but that hard edge is tempered by her love of family. She is a formidable businesswoman (of a faith-based company) and succeeds with a frothy mix of acumen and charisma. Yet somehow, Real Housewives casts her as a cackling, calculating villain (with far too little airtime). It is an unconscionable misdirection on the part of the show’s producers.
Of all the characters, Ms. Carole Radziwill really gets my goat. Styled as a damaged downtown bohemian, she always looks like she just crawled out of the bed of some Brazilian soccer star. This woman is so busy contemplating the ne plus ultra, she doesn’t have time to find decent make-up for her pale, flat face. Each of her scenes on the show comes with a minor lecture on her literary bona fides, but I doubt she’s got the street smarts to haggle a halal butcher for a nice kosher cut. There’s a reason people like me don’t venture below 23rd Street, and that reason is the Carole Radziwills of that dark, raunchy world.
I would have the same scorn for Countess LuAnn, but I have it on very good authority that she isn’t even real. Rumor has it that just before the series launched she was an Atlantic City showgirl that Mr. Andy Cohen chanced upon one night after too many cosmopolitans at Prohibition, a VIP-only club for a certain type of man. Andy softened her Hoboken growl, got her dolled up in Lily Pulitzer and called up a nuclear family from central casting (Hamptons Bays division). Voila! a countess was born.
And yes, we could talk for hours about Kristen, that hapless mother bumbling towards a midlife crisis. What is wrong with that weird eye of hers? Heather, the Mexican mamacita who excites her people with the ethnic cry of Hollah!, certainly seems poised to lead a riot in the pizza lane at Whole Foods. Or Sonja, with her private harem of lesbian lovers she calls “interns.” Your Sapphic side is no secret, my honey-haired vixen. Chatter about your kinky after-hours parties has traveled the hotline from Massapequa to Miami-Dade. If one of those interns ever chronicled the nightly escapades in your Manhattan manse, I think the book would be titled, The Karma Sutra Guide to Excruciating Behavior.
It would be wrong not to mention Aviva and her better half, father George Teichner. It is rather shameful that audiences don’t have a shred of sympathy for a disabled asthmatic woman who has aged so gracefully. Is it because she’s Jewish? Considering this show’s goyim fanbase, I wouldn’t be surprised. Her father, on the other hand, is adorable and everyone knows it. He’s one of those meshugeners so gornisht helfn, that you just want to pinch his cheeks and sit on his lap. This man deserves his own series. He brings that old school borscht belt charm to life on my flatscreen. He’s wily and smart, vivacious and looks utterly fantastic for his age. A touch of naughty wit makes him risqué even for the younger set. I LOVE this man!
Useful Yentas of the Socialist Agenda
The great tragedy of Real Housewives is that the cast seems genuinely unaware that they’re being used so duplicitously by the radical liberals. Vladimir Lenin would have called them “useful idiots” in the war against wealth and private property. This is also a phrase that Obama’s mentor, Saul Alinsky, employed when discussing his agenda for a class uprising here in the United States. Hollywood has taken up this cause with incredible dedication. As we have seen in recent years, the socialist battleground is now the American homefront. And the most precious territory of all is the minds of innocent consumers. What better way to lay claim to that vast wasteland of American gray matter than with a primetime reality series?
If the show makes you angry, and it certainly makes me angry, we need to blame the Jewish producers who insult their heritage by employing the methodologies of Goebbels and Stalin. That’s the true crime here. (That, plus Aviva’s hair! Come on, Andy Cohen! Dip into your chunky necklace budget and invest in a stylist for that gal!)
It is important, my friends, to keep in mind that Real Housewives does not honestly represent the hardworking job creator class in America. These women are simply characters in a well-plotted television drama. However, even if they’re simply “playing a part,” LuAnn, Carole, Kristen and Sonja will certainly bear some of the blame when our streets erupt in bloodshed in the coming years. Their role in fomenting populist outrage by slandering the One Percent as shrill and cruel parasites is akin to shouting “Fire!” in a crowded theatre. Like any threat of communist revolution from within, Real Housewives of New York must be viewed as the treason that it genuinely is. Will Congress or the FCC act before these women incite Occupy to another wave of violent riots? Is it up to us, the viewers, to stand up against the guilty goyim of Gotham? In the words of the irrepressible Sonja Morgan, “Sometimes you gotta go commando!”