Someone at the breakfast club asked, how many reality shows are there on television? Well, I went to Google for help, but the closest it came was “a bunch.”

We should have known when so many cable channels became available, there would not be enough regular drama or news to fill them up.

And so camera crews went around filming people chasing possums out of their hen houses, Cajuns shooting alligators, men driving their trucks across frozen lakes, ungrateful little snobs living together and talking about petty problems, slut and thug marriages, people buying and selling junk, young people trying to leave their Amish roots, Hutterites discovering makeup and learning how to cuss, etc., etc., etc.

For lack of nothing better on the tube last night, I watched “The Call of the Wildman.” He cleared some snapping turtles out of a pond. Why? I have no idea. I thought that was where snapping turtles should be. And they are not man eaters.

Then he caught a fox that was killing a farmer’s chickens. Of course the crux of that segment was to capture it alive and relocate it, as opposed to the farmer shooting the creature. However, I’m not aware that you can relocate a fox a few miles and be confident that it won’t come back.

Next, he climbed down into a well and rescued an albino raccoon. Now that seemed a sensible and plausible effort on his part in the venue of being humane and protecting a farmer’s water supply. But I’ve seen a revved up boar coon whip a bluetick hound. So when I say “sensible,” I may be stretching the interpretation.

I do enjoy “The World’s Funniest Videos” occasionally. I think that program could have socially redeeming value by illustrating how not to do things. I’m just wondering how many showings it will take to convince skate boarders that attempts to ride down a step railing is seldom successful.

Apparently these shows are very popular. But they are very predictable. You’ve got to know that when that tractor trailer rigs starts across that ice, something bad is going to happen.

Then there’s the mountain man who rides his horse to town (Boone, N.C.) to try to stop the sale of his property. Apparently, he doesn’t understand property taxes (he owns 1,000 acres) nor does he comprehend that he would fare better if he had a real job. His name is Eustis, and he’s ready to die for his land. Well, riding a plow horse into heavy traffic is one way to accomplish that.
For these shows to work, they have to be weird, bizarre, deviant to some degree, adrenaline pumped and shock injected — not all in one show, but scattered among the lot.

The fat bald-headed guy who travels the world eating stuff a cat would turn down is an example of bizarre. So they catch this nice big fish. I could just imagine all of the flaky white filets that could have come from this fish. But instead, they cut off its head and prepared dishes from its lips, gills and eyeballs.

So will these shows run their course soon? Who knows. I do watch some of it. It does qualify as entertainment. But then SPAM also qualifies as food.

I guess the intrigue really is to guess what the next reality show will be — maybe what prostitutes do on their days off?

Dwain Walden is the editor/publisher of the Moultrie Observer.