Seriously, I had no idea there were so many of these dusky creatures. Perhaps they multiply like Tribbles. That would explain the Keeping Up With the Kardashians title. It's a running tally.
One thing is clear in the alarming avalanche of programming in which they are featured: They have terrible taste in men. Bruce Jenner resembles a marionette that someone found decades after it was abandoned in the woods. Kris Humphries looks like his biggest problem is keeping flies from buzzing into his mouth. And Scott Disick? I wouldn't touch a shopping cart he just used.
I'm giving Lamar Odom a pass - he's suffered enough.
As producer, Ryan Seacrest gets a lot of credit for tapping into the Kardashians' special brand of ratings magic, but all he really did is stumble upon a nest of exhibitionists who relish spending their every waking moment on camera.
Their primary activity seems to be shopping in high-end boutiques while paparazzi swarm frantically on the sidewalk out front. I don't know what they talk about. I wasn't tempted to find out.
The Kardashian ultra-marathon was followed on E! by the feature film Thank You for Smoking. In the first scene, Joan Lunden hosted her own (imaginary, I guess) talk show and I drifted into a reverie, sorting former female morning-show anchors by hair color. I snapped out of it when I couldn't figure out how to categorize Mariette Hartley.
Next up, Ice Loves Coco. No doubt Ice-T's love is strong. I just wonder how he finds time to work on Law & Order. It must eat into his chief activity: sitting on the couch, his eyes at half-staff.
Then it was time for a special Grammy edition of Fashion Police. As far as I can make out, the show is a competition between Giuliana Rancic, Kelly Osbourne, and George Kotsiopoulos to see who can pretend to laugh most uproariously at everything Joan Rivers says.
