For the uninitiated, ‘Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels’ might seem like some vaguely English… For the uninitiated, ‘Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels’ might seem like some vaguely English phrase, possibly a mistranslation of a Japanese phenomenon involving cats and no bus whatsoever. However, those who have a special affinity for Bret Michaels, outrageous plastic surgery or trash know that ‘Rock of Love Bus’ is the third season of Poison-frontman-turned-perpetual-bachelor Michaels’ quest for true love. ‘ ‘ ‘ I proudly fall into the group of fans who have avidly watched every episode from season one. For the past three years, without fail, whenever Bret and his sinfully synthetic hair come on screen, I pause my academic pursuits, rally my roommates and wallow in the ripest of VH1’s celeb-reality refuse. I genuinely enjoy the show and giddily pick-a-little with fellow ‘Rock of Love’ enthusiasts at every opportunity. ‘ ‘ ‘ I have suffered no small share of others’ disbelief at this particular affinity. ‘Surely, it’s the ironic distance you love, right Erik?’ Positively not. Irony has long been stale and too flaccid to even begin to tickle my humor. Before any silicone hounds accuse me of watching the show for some perverse aesthetic gratification, let me assure you that this is not the case. Unless you were raised in a strip club and weaned on a steady diet of anime and ‘Paris is Burning,’ these drag-ish painted ladies do not fit your standard of beauty. ‘ ‘ ‘ One girl has bargain-basement implants that pop from a nasty tumble. Another hoards sweaty socks collected from the other contestants. A third lady presents Michaels with an unmentionable piercing as a promise ring. ‘ ‘ ‘ Jean Genet once told the man directing a production of his play ‘The Balcony,’ ‘If anybody tells you that you have produced this play in good taste, you will have failed. My tarts must look like the worst prostitutes in the world.’ I can only imagine that ‘Rock of Love Bus” creators gave similar instruction. ‘ ‘ ‘ However, as easy as it would be for me to spend an entire column extolling the foul virtuosity of ‘Rock of Love Bus,’ I am more interested in why the show is so popular. Nielsen reports that the season premiere gathered 2.1 million viewers. Why, for example, have I happily watched the second episode three times, and why have I had no trouble ensnaring my roommates to watch with me? ‘ ‘ ‘ The pissant intellectual answer is that watching trashy television ‘mdash; and ‘Rock of Love Bus’ is certainly the pinnacle ‘mdash; is something like a modern Feast of Fools. In medieval times, this festival was the sole occasion on which social roles were reversed, especially those in the church. The Feast acted a steam valve aimed at abating the frustrations of the feudal system. ‘ ‘ ‘ Similarly, collegiates might be attracted to ‘Rock of Love Bus’ because it brings them low. Otherwise crammed into thick volumes of organic chemistry or encouraged to spend afternoons arguing about Foucault in coffee shops, students can release the tensions of high thought with magical Mr. Michaels and his coterie. ‘ ‘ ‘ Such an analysis could very well be correct, but it is self-satisfied. Might we not love ‘Rock of Love Bus’ simply because it is entertaining? ‘ ‘ ‘ How many other shows subject their casts to writing wedding vows for a man they know best for crooning ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn?’ Where else can you watch handfuls of girls stuff their Frankenstein vanity into roller derby outfits and ice skates to try to slapshot a baby doll into a hockey goal? Other shows exploit women, but none do it with such elaborate rigmarole. Spectacle will never get old. ‘ ‘ ‘ Watching ‘Rock of Love Bus’ recalls my childhood of reading National Geographic. ‘Ooo. That aborigine has a plate in his mouth.’ ‘Oh man. DJ Lady Tribe, nee Nikki, has a body that looks it was hastily modeled in clay by an excited sixth grader.’ Dare to explore, indeed. ‘ ‘ ‘ Now, I might be treading on dangerous ground by expressing my unqualified enjoyment of the show. Most people who watch ‘Rock of Love’ will surely hedge their liking of Michaels and Co. and say that they are only in it to laugh at what society has become. Most will call it something like their ‘guilty pleasure.’ ‘ ‘ ‘ Such positions are far more damaging to the culture than any gaudy offering VH1 could ever throw our way. When our relation to culture becomes ironic, we become disinterested spectators. We become cultureless. ‘ ‘ ‘ The fear of embracing shows such as ‘Rock of Love Bus’ is the fear that we become low when we like lowbrow things. The secret is, though, that the division between low and high culture is imaginary. It is manufactured by critics and other arbiters of culture who want to impose their preferences as dogma. High and low culture are simply different points of access to understand the world, the former dressed up in satin slippers and belles-lettres, the latter wearing an American flag bikini and stilettos. ‘Rock of Love Bus’ might fall firmly into the latter category, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it anyway. Please let me introduce myself at [email protected].