We're not always proud of it, but we can't live without our guilty pleasures. We much prefer the diversions we can wallow in over the ones that enlighten or ennoble us. It's not that America has no culture but that we like so much of our entertainment junky, our food fast, our brows low. We might play up our good dining habits or book club memberships, but it's the sugary snacks, the airport novels and the airhead magazines that we turn to when we're feeling blue or just looking for a good time. It used to be easy to distinguish guilty pleasures from worthwhile pastimes, but every year the boundary separating them gets more blurry.
In the 1980s and 90s, irony took a commanding voice in design and entertainment, with things that had once been rejected as "tacky" or "camp" suddenly being celebrated for their self-conscious kitsch factor.
Now it's hard to tell whether you're enjoying something for its kitsch factor or for its own sake. Do you wear Hawaiian shirts and bowling shoes to make a self-conscious "retro" statement or because the colors look good on you? Are you laughing at Speed Racer reruns or Survivor episodes or laughing with them?
In some cases, the trash of yesterday has become the treasures of today. Filmmakers Mel Brooks and John Waters used to take pride in aiming low and offending people. Now they each have hot-ticket Broadway musicals -- The Producers and Hairspray -- that attract whole families. Rule of thumb: If it has a hit Broadway show devoted to it, it's not as guilty as it used to be.
Mamma Mia! for instance, is the successful musical based on the songs of ABBA, a prime example of fool's gold that's now considered the real thing. When Benny, Bjorn, Frida and Agnetha first hit the US pop charts, they were ridiculed as the height of vapid disco and for their phonetic pronunciations of English. A few decades later, ABBA's tunes are acclaimed for their catchy good hooks and harmonies, and you needn't hide your copy of "Waterloo" in the back of your music collection anymore.
Comic books, once dismissed as juvenilia about men in tights, have earned newfound appreciation as they've evolved. With the recognition of artists like Will Eisner and Alan Moore, more ambitious artists have turned to comics, which have become a scruffy but respected art form. (I'm living proof of this, having gotten a master's degree for a thesis on the graphic novel Watchmen.) You can see their validation not only in superhero movies like Spider-Man, but the terrific indie films with comic origins, like Ghost World and this year's Sundance Festival hit American Splendor.
With so many gray areas, there's a need to separate the pleasures that are unredeemably guilty from the ones that have been reformed. Just in time for Lent, we consider a variety of amusements that span a variety of pastimes -- and Charlotte institutions -- to assess whether they're defensible or reprehensible. It's all good -- but just how good is it?
The Accused: First-person shooter video games
The Case: Has the "improved hand-eye coordination" argument in favor of video games ever worked for anyone who's not an aspiring air-traffic controller? The real-world value is low for most video games and all but nonexistent for "first-person shooters," the ones where you point a toy gun at a screen and fire at targets. And video game violence has increased exponentially. Old arcades simulated a cartoony shooting range: Shoot a bad guy, and he'd spin around like a cardboard target. With current games like House of the Dead, you blow away ravening zombies, which spurt blood when hit. Playing them can be a fast-paced blast, and console games like Grand Theft Auto can be remarkably detailed guides through a criminal career. But they have no real justification apart from the joy of shooting stuff. Sort of like real guns.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: Hong Kong movies
The Case: The motion pictures of Hong Kong absorbed American pop styles, gave them a jolt of adrenaline, and improved on them, from Jackie Chan's slapstick stunts to John Woo's operatic action to the fight choreography and flying wire-work of scores of journeyman filmmakers. A 90-minute chop-sockey film might have bad dubbing, preposterous plotting and low production values, but it can also boast 20 minutes of astonishing cinema: You can see more craft and brio at climaxes of Drunken Master 2 or A Better Tomorrow 2 than in films of Bruce Willis or Mel Gibson that cost 10 times as much to make. It's gone full circle, with Hong Kong directors and action stars earning places in Hollywood -- where their output is far more watered-down than in their homeland.
The Verdict: Not guilty
The Accused: Spam
The Case: No, not the annoying e-mail that fills your inbox. No one takes any pleasure in that. The original stuff. Spiced ham. Potted meat. The trademark of Hormel's cash cow (or should that be processed pig?) has become a retro-cool logo on hats, tees, magnets, neckties -- you name it. But even though Charlotte reportedly consumes more Spam per capita than normal cities, it's still forbidden to admit to eating the stuff. Like a hunk of concentrated bacon, the meat can be sliced and fried up with big juicy tomatoes, crisp lettuce and mayo for a super-duper BLT. But don't let any snooping friends look in your cupboard. The resulting grossed-out faces and high-pitched giggles confirm the need to hide it behind the gourmet soups and designer pastas.
The Verdict: Guilty, guilty, guilty.
The Accused: The Osbournes
The Case: It's hard to imagine anything justifying the hype of MTV's "home movie" series of the domestic life of heavy metal burnout Ozzy, his wife/handler Sharon and their foul-mouthed teenagers Jack and Sharon. The Osbournes' two seasons total a mere 10 hours of programming -- counting commercials. Yet while the show offers a voyeuristic look at the lives of the rich and profane, it's also an unexpected source of family values and the challenges of parenting. Ozzy is both the worst role model and best example of what not to do that you can imagine, and the show's recent treatment of Sharon's battle with colon cancer finds unexpected tenderness.
The Verdict: Not Guilty
The Accused: Jackass
The Case: MTV's other notorious program, and its big-screen film version, let loose a band of merry pranksters, backyard kamikazes and masochistic performance artists in front of the camera, with uproarious results. Johnny Knoxville and company will do anything for a gag, from tasering themselves to bobbing for poison jellyfish. But you can't get past the fact that you're watching people hurt themselves and embarrass others in the name of entertainment, and that dunderheaded fans are inspired to follow suit. Hilarious, yes. Harmless, no.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: SUVs
The Case: No doubt there are those for whom the joys of the suburban utility vehicle mean off-roading in some leafy glade like a bellowing, four-wheel-drive dinosaur. But in Charlotte traffic, SUVs feel less like a Guilty Pleasure than a Guilty Necessity. If you're going to spend hours of your life in terrible traffic, do you want to be contorted in a tiny car with no headroom, staring at the ass-end of the SUV in front of you? Or would you rather pass your time in a vehicle that has adequate cargo space and lets you see just how backed up the cars ahead can be? You can find consolation in our gas prices being less than the national average, but it's ultimately a selfish choice, as convenience and ease can't outweigh pollution and oil dependence.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: Fantasy books for kids
The Case: For decades, fantasy novels for kids were dismissed as prolonged fairy tales with numbing moralizing, though one might harbor fond memories for The Phantom Tollbooth or Wind in the Willows. They've gotten renewed interest thanks to an English schoolboy named Harry Potter. But if J.K. Rowling's books were just a kid-driven phenomenon, the mass media wouldn't have taken notice -- clearly, adults are students of Hogwarts as well. Rowling's books may not be literature, but the earlier ones find great humor in the magical conceit, and the subsequent ones prove intriguingly dark and weighty. Rowling opened the door to the winking melodramas of Lemony Snicket and the beautifully written books by Philip Pullman. Frankly, at this point it's uncool not to read a kid's book now and then -- they have a lot more cachet than the likes of John Grisham.
The Verdict: Not guilty
The Accused: Fantasy books for grown-ups
The Case: Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings films haven't done much to remove the taint from fantasy novels for older readers, which still have a whiff of Renaissance Faires and marathon Dungeons and Dragons games. There's plenty of escapist value in the immersion in imaginary worlds, and catharsis in seeing heroes vanquish the forces of evil. But arguing the genre's merits can otherwise be a fool's errand. Even the superb exceptions by George R.R. Martin and Robin Hobb, which keep magic to a minimum and unfold like epic histories, still have kitschy, cornball covers. Better to be caught watching Girls Gone Wild 2 than reading a book with a dragon or a breast-plated warrior princess on the cover.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: Marijuana
The Case: As an alternative weekly, we are bound by law to glorify marijuana use. So here's the predictable propaganda: It's less harmful than liquor; it helps cancer patients; and dude!, it's just a plant -- it's like totally organic. Mainly, though, we're tired of humongous amounts of our tax dollars being spent on jailing potheads whose only crimes are likely to be taking the last brownie and telling rambling, hard-to-follow stories. Can we tax this puffball drug already and make some money off it? There is a new federal budget now, you know.
The Verdict: Not guilty
The Accused: Synthetic fabrics
The Case: Once the epitome of cheap, clothing made from synthetic fabrics now belong in the realm of chic -- with artificially inflated prices to match. Most boutique racks are chock-full of rayon, acrylic, polyester and nylon. Even haute fashion designers from Gaultier to Versace create in synthetics. Perhaps the medium is the message: The fashion world itself is as fake, fake, fake as it gets, so parade your retro, neo, boho styles with pride. But hold the phone if you're also giving yourself pats on the back for not killing animals (fur, leather) or depleting the soil (cotton): Almost all synthetic fabrics require natural gas and petroleum (see War on Iraq).
The Verdict: Fashionistas say: Not guilty. Environmental activists say: Guilty
The Accused: Marshmallow Peeps
The Case: Dig those crazy chicks. Every year at Easter, those canary-yellow or pink confections peek out at the grocery store. With sugary surfaces and soft centers, they're a fleeting pleasure on the tongue, but once a year they bring back the pleasures of childhood in a Proustian rush. Besides, the classic bird-shaped Peeps are, in their way, a classic example of playful design. But don't abuse them: If you eat an entire box in one sitting, use them as pizza toppings, or take wicked delight in microwaving one to a shapeless blob, you're enjoying them for all the wrong reasons.
The Verdict: Not guilty
The Accused: Holiday lawn decorations
The Case: There used to be a time when just one house in the neighborhood would get all decked out for the holidays, surrendering the windows, front yard and even roof to garish lights, ersatz Santas and radioactive nativity scenes. Those lone decorators seemed exotic in their shamelessness, but somehow along the way, the exception became the rule. Now it seems as though the majority of homes on your street proudly display outdoor ornaments that prior generations would have found terminally tacky. The trend has even expanded beyond Christmas, with people now putting elaborate decorations for Halloween, or even Easter. If inflatable bunny rabbits or giant pumpkin heads make a stressful season more fun, so be it, but the displays strain the electric bills of those who have them, and put peer pressure on those who don't.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: Ethnic humor
The Case: Could Blazing Saddles get made today? Maybe, but only by a black filmmaker. Racially charged humor still exists, but it's been Balkanized by political incorrectness: Chris Rock can use the n-word with hilarious abandon, but woe to white audiences who laugh too hard when he does. Comics who find sport in stereotypes, like the South Park guys, may argue that they're equal-opportunity insulters. But the line between making fun of racists and just making racist jokes can be a thin one, and ultimately, someone in one group can't tell someone in another group what they should or should not find offensive.
The Verdict: More guilty than it used to be
The Accused: Southern rap
The Case: Sure, they're offensive to everyone and ridiculously childish, but nothing makes a better sing-along than a tune like Cash Money Millionaires' "Hood Rich" or Ludacris' "Move Bitch." The beats are catchy and the hooks are longer than the lyrics, providing the perfect soundtrack cruising down Independence. Although other types of rap may be more meaningful, who really wants to be moved by the music when it's Saturday, the weather's great and you're on your way to the mall? But, for God's sake, keep those windows up.
The Verdict: Guilty
The Accused: Beauty mags
The Case: Eye candy or important sociological barometer? Hunk o' junk or cultural thermometer? We side with the latter. Maybe we're fooling ourselves, but it seems vitally important to keep abreast of new beauty products, which shape of eyebrow is "in," how to beat a blemish, or be forewarned when the Pat Benatar look is back. At the very worst, there's no harm. Science has proven that entertainment has value all its own (increasing endorphins and serotonin uptake), and that people who take pride in their appearance are more mentally healthy than those who don't. Trash like Lucky is best kept cloaked in your New Yorker, but stacks of Allure and Jane provide good down time for frazzled noggins.
The Verdict: Not guilty
GUILTY Smoking
The Anna Nicole Show
Professional wrestling
Anne Rice vampire novels
Store-bought pork rinds
Going to a strip club alone
Charlie's Angels -- the show
Superhero comic books
Yoo-Hoo
Comedy Central's The Man Show
Eating junk food over the sink
Friends TV series
NOT GUILTY Drinking
The Surreal World
NASCAR
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Home-fried pork chops
Buying a sex toy at Inserection
Charlie's Angels -- the movie
Grubby ordinary-person comic books
Snapple
Comedy Central's Insomniac
Eating junk food in the car
Actually having friends
