Leah E

Humans have a fascination with studying human behavior. we are so curious as to why we do things, how our brains work, and how our interpersonal relationships develop over time. to be human is to be curious, and we make our introspection external by seeking out reality tv. we wish to for our humanity to be reflected back at us, although perhaps colored by a different filter. I had a gnawing, uncomfortable curiosity when I saw Netflix’s Unlocked: a prison experiment. Supposedly a docuseries following a men’s jail, this show is a thinly veiled attempt to gamify and exploit a sector of life that is inherently secret. As an “experiment,” the detention facility has removed wardens and given prisoners the responsibility to regulate themselves. The consumer observes inmates with a morbid fascination. Can these savages truly tame themselves? It’s impossible not to draw comparisons to watching animals in a zoo. Even the narrator of the show describes the behavior of the inmates as though they were male lions brawling in order to get out the aggression innate to their species. This show paints incarcerated human beings as simple minded, infantile. They are intermittently spoken to by a patronizing warden who encourages them to act as a “community” and threatens to take away any morsels of freedom they’ve acquired. The game is rigged! Even if inmates play by the rules and appease those in power so that they can keep their cell doors open, they still exist within a larger structure that imprisons the wrong people and refuses to make time in prison rehabilitative. It’s late-stage capitalism to a T. Make people so busy with small goals and small achievements that they don’t realize that their whole life is manipulated by a very few powerful individuals. Although this show is classified as reality, and it reflects the common reality tv-trope of individuals locked together in a closed environment, it differs concerning several severe, sticky details. How can a prisoner consent to being in a reality TV microcosm if he didn’t consent to his incarceration in the first place? Are the prisoners getting adequately compensated for their time and participation? Are they receiving mental health resources that are frequently required for participants in reality TV shows? The thesis of this show reflects the insidious nature of poorly made content produced rapidly and for shock factor. We lose out of the humanity we are so desperately grappling for, and instead quickly view some humans as inferior and more animalistic by default.

As a God-fearing Baptist man, I keep my household away from the Satanic influences of modern media. I was absolutely sickened when I discovered that my son’s homeschool co-op group had led him away from God, and into the arms of Satan by showing him the film, “Mac and Me (Raffill, 1988). I immediately withdrew him from the program and reported the co-op to the Southern Baptist Church Commission. I prayed long and hard as I fasted for 4 weeks, searching for answers and begging the Lord to forgive my son. Due to the Soul-crushing guilt I experienced for entrusting my son in the arms of sinners, I contemplated Man’s worst sin: su!c!de. As I sat outside the co-op, fully-automatic AK 47 in hand, I was called on by the Lord. I felt his hot breath on my neck, and my heart raced, my toes curled. It felt as though the Lord had lifted me up with his big, strong arms and pushed against me tightly. His soft lips traced my ear as he whispered, “Mac and me…” I felt a warm explosion. I knew what had to be done. I sped off to the local Blockbuster, somewhere I hadn’t been since I was a wee boy. My father would take me after he beat me in his alcoholic rages. I glanced out the rearview mirror, and saw the local Blockbuster bathed in the Lord’s sweet, creamy light. It was time. I walked in and realized that I had left my wallet. But as Jesus always says, “Your Word is a lamp for my feet.” My toes wiggled in anticipation. I pointed my fully-automatic AK 47 at the cashier, and he handed over the 1988 film, Mac and Me. I wanted to fall to my knees with utmost gratitude, but the stench of urine was so powerful that I had to immediately depart. For that, I repent. I instructed my wife to prepare my TV dinner for this occasion. I took a bite. Ice cold. I removed my belt and beat my hore wife. My pants started to slip down, and again I felt the Lord’s presence. I slipped in the VCR tape, and it fit in effortlessly. I gasped. As I heard the first few notes of the intro score, a soft moan escaped my lips. And when I first rested my eyes on Mac… my anticipation reached its climax. I can’t even begin to explain the joy this film has brought into my life. I felt the thrust of the Lord’s love throughout every scene, entering me rhythmically. It started as a gentle pulse, but as the film progressed, I felt His love grow inside me. By the time the credits rolled, I was breathless in exhilaration. I ran to my son to apologize, for something influenced by Satan could never imbibe so much pleasure. It is clear that God came to me in this film. ;)