led astray

Now that LOST--which kicked major ass this week--has moved to 10pm, my entire TV-watching schedule is out of whack. I'm left to aimless surfing during the 9 o'clock hour and that has opened my eyes to a whole new world of bad television programs. Tonight, my misguided prime time idleness found me wandering to the "new" CW and its litany of schmaltzy reality programming; I was lucky enough to catch the last half-hour of The Pussy Cat Dolls Present: The Search for the Next Doll, which I guess normally airs on Tuesdays.

Since the Pussy Cat Doll brand has many forms, I wondered what exactly this new Doll would be used for. Would she be a sexy croupier at the Caeser's Palace Casino in Los Vegas? Would she be one of the dancing ladies at some Los Angeles nightclub? Or would her fate lie as window dressing/underling for ALPHA DOLL Nicole Scherzinger in the platinum-selling manufactured pop group? Clever detective work (i.e. checking out the official Web site) revealed that it is to be the latter, though I'm not sure if that means they kicked one of the other automatons out or not. Regardless, the show is the brainchild of Ken Mok, who was the genius who gave birth to America's Next Top Model, which also features scantily clad women saying mean things about one another, so it just had to be good.

And it was! By the time I tuned in, it appeared as half the Dolls-in-training were afflicted by some vigorous stomach ailment that caused the sick to vomit profusely. However, as the 18 hopefuls were set to be whittled down to nine, mere illness would not be seen as an excuse for poor performance. This shit is serious, yo. You want to be a Pussy Cat Doll. No. Maybe you didn't hear me. Do you REALLY want to be a Pussy Cat Doll?! Then get up on that stage and shake that thang girl. We don't want no pretenders here.

The show wasn't heartless though. As the rag tag group of nervous, vomiting, partially undressed females made it to the stage, they were met by their Angel of Mercy, none other than cheeseball singer-turned-plain ol' cheeseball Mark McGrath, of Sugar Ray "fame." He was greeted with giggles and melodious hellos from the girls. He regarded them kindly and reminded them of the importance of this audition. There would be cuts, and those cuts would be final. He acknowledged that some of them were ill. He's a compassionate man. "There's a doctor on-hand." Cut to doctor. "And medicine." Cut to IVs and various medical implements. "Now go get 'em." I'm paraphrasing. Then McGrath introduced ALPHA DOLL Scherzinger, who told the girls to follow their hearts and be like the mighty eagle, soaring in the sky, and never give up. Never. And she sat and joined the judges.

The girls danced and performed songs by the Pussy Cat Dolls. They were broken up into three teams of six. Finally, it was sadly time to eliminate half the contestants. It was your usual reality show elimination fare: worry, elation, sadness and relief--all jazzed up with clever editing. But then the sassy, husky-voiced Sisely was called to the fore and the emotions got very, very real. The judges praised her with the kind of tempered reassurances you'd expect, but ALPHA DOLL Scherzinger would have nothing of it.

"I love your essence," she said. "I love your rawness."

And then, finally, "I love you."

I guess I finally found something to watch on Tuesday nights.