NYC Prep: Another Bunch of Rich Kids to Hate

My oldest friends know my oldest secrets—and the oldest secret truth that defines my personality is henceforth public knowledge as of here and now: I’m a hater. I’m not exactly sure of the modern definition of this word, so let me be clear: I HATE. People have the wrong idea about hate. It is, in reality, not the negative, destructive emotion its been portrayed as. Instead, hate should be thought of as one of the purest emotions we can feel—a human emotion that defines us as a species. After all, love can be just as destructive.

All my life I’ve been swept away by emotional hurricanes, like the victims of passion in Dante’s Inferno. But I’ve never looked at this as a personality defect; instead, I feel free to feel like me. Usually, this means that I’m incredibly exuberant about the things I love…and the things I hate. When I put pen to paper in description of the latter category, it results in what I’ve come to call a Rant. It’s not quite as formally structured as a manifesto, but the hate’s there and I’m not backing down from it, or apologizing to the people, places and things that get caught in the crossfire.

So it’s with a certain professional pride that I introduce you to…

The NEW Series of RANTS…now with 500% More Hate!

And what better piece of pop cultural detritus to spill raw, uncooked hatred on than Bravo’s NYC Prep. This show is the most insidiously evil, foul piece of uber-trash TV that exists. I can only hope some as-yet-unknown social disease will take out the worm-ridden teenaged whores this show documents. For the producers and staff of Bravosi that are responsible for creating this tremendous turd, I recommend a horrid ancient method of execution: the Romans would sometimes tie such foul folk in a sack, together with a dog, a cock, a viper and a monkey, and throw the whole lot into the Tiber.

The best example of the show’s hoary wickedness can be summed up with a few words, given by a 15-year old prep school harlot, talking about the two boys (one a prep school Leif Garrett-lookalike, the other a pushy public school lad) she feels torn between:

“Sebastian, he’d be better for my social status,” this creaturette says, matter-of-fact. “And Sebastian’s [got a] lot of money.”

STOP! At this point, if you see nothing wrong with this, please do not read further. Use your daddy (or mommy’s) AmEx Platinum card to hail a taxi. You know what a taxi is, right? Those cars the smelly, foreign men drive? Slip the taxi driver a $50 and ask him to take you to “the ghetto”. I’m sure you’ve heard about that place. Where the colored people live, and where rap stars come from, right? Once there, approach any of the enterprising young African American men (ignore your nervousness; pop another Prozac and one of mummy’s Xanax) and ask to purchase an automatic handgun. Slip the young man a $50 and he’ll be happy to throw in the cute little brass “bullets” that make the handgun “go”; he’ll also be happy to load it for you. Take your new purchase (doesn’t holding it make you feel like you have authentic street-cred?) back to your room. Now put it in your cute little mouth and…

Whew. Sorry. I got a little carried away. All the hatred, don’tcha know…I need a shower. More later…the new episode is coming on.


1 Comment

  1. I like the use of the word “hoary” in the same breath as the word “harlot.” But I never thought of you as a hater but rather more on your way to becoming a curmudgeon.

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