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Thanks to a tenuous partnership between Fansofrealitytv.com and the Media Review Department of the First United Evangelical Fundamental Science Church of 1˝ Revelations, we are pleased to present their review of NBC’s Celebrity Circus.


Staff writer: Irene Almond

I fondly remember my first trip to the circus. It was in 1933, when I was but a little gosling of 43 years old. Normally, I wouldn’t find myself indulging in such worldly pleasures as Barnum and Bailey’s bizarre, secular theater, but with Lent fast approaching, the Sisters of Derision decided to commune with just a bit of pizzazz before we humbly accepted the season of self-flagellation. It was positively stimulating! There were mighty men with handlebar mustaches who lifted great stones and swallowed paintbrushes! Exotic women who contorted their nubile bodies into exciting positions! Lions, tigers, and androgynous, flying artists of dubious lineage! I had never seen anything like it, except perhaps my uncle, Bud, who had a head that was four feet long.

So, with these fond memories and affections reawakened in the dusty corners of my mind, it was with great anticipation that I sat down to my television machine to review NBC’s new “reality show,” Celebrity Circus. However, I saw nothing but static for four weeks, which naturally thwarted any attempt of my brand of impartial reviewing. I fasted with my prayer group in the hopes that the pixie denizens of my TV screen would resume their wondrous dance, but in the end, I had to wait until Steve came out and fixed that strange, metal antenna tree which grows from our roof, because my Earl’s knees are acting up again.

Finally, on the fourth week, I was able to sit down with my sisters and watch Celebrity Circus, and let me tell you—I have had many rich blessings in my life, but none so startling as the shuffling off of my erstwhile naivety, for this was MOST CERTAINLY NOT the “greatest show on earth.”


How many deadly sins can YOU spot?

The sinister “ringmaster” under this “big top” is an acolyte of gluttony named “Joey Fat One,” who I’m told is a former singer from that band In Sink, who may have been considered “popular music” but really sent the conscience of America right down the gutter that their name implies. There are also three judges, who are actually powerless in choosing the outcome of the show, making a straight mockery of the mighty judgment to come.

So, what of these acts? Certainly nothing as glorious as the acts of the apostles, though my sisters and I did enjoy watching the first contestant, Wee Man, lift up a strongman from Yugoslavia (or some heathen land where they talk funny), who was nearly three times his size! Like David of old, Wee Man triumphed over the imaginary forces that “scientists” call “physics,” and did it while he and Goliath were both wearing exciting knickers.


This is the best thing since Weightlifters for Jesus!

Unfortunately, Wee Man’s display of strength proved to be the zenith of this show’s value, as it quickly degenerated to a lavish display of sin and vanity. There was an actress known as Stacey Dash who didn’t seem to dash anywhere, but, rather, swung around in the air on some contraption that looked complicated, so I can only assume that it was evil. She showed her ankles to the world without shame, and then pouted when the judges gave her a mediocre score. Harrumph!

There was a “Wheel of Death” on which Antonio Sabato, Jr. brazenly defied death and interrupted the NATURAL WAY OF THINGS and looked like some sort of unclean rodent running around in one of their futile cages. My sister Minerva was disappointed with this performance, as she is a sinful woman and used to watch this fellow on some sort of show set in an infirmary. However, when Mr. Sabato, Jr. cried out the Merrickesque diatribe, “I am a man! I am a human being!” to the judges, I knew the truth.


Did Leviticus say anything about this? Don’t bother checking—it doesn’t.

But, even after this long walk in the inferno, nothing could have prepared me for the most egregious assault on human decency. For Rachel Hunter’s routine, I was promised a bullfight. Many years ago, I took a trip with my sisters to see a bullfight in Madrid, and it was a wonderful ballet of skill and finesse. No one who participated survived. We were all so excited during the training montages, and in the end, what should jump out of the trailer but a ratlike Chihuahua with false horns. Listen to me, Ms. Hunter . . . we Almond girls know what a “bull” is and what “bull” is, and THIS ACT WAS DEFINITE BULL with a distinct absence of bull.


Unforgivable sin.

So let’s tally up the results:

Gluttony: -8.5
Fornication: -10
Avarice: -8
Sorrow: -7.3
Anger: -9
Discouragement: -6
Vainglory: -10
Pride: -10

Cardinal Score: -68.8

So, as you can see, Celebrity Circus is truly SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMING, and I see no reason why any proprietous citizen would ever watch this show. Like the harlot of Babylon, it attempts to distract you with sparkling lights and women descending from giant poles, which is apparently how one of my grandchildren is paying for college, but remain steadfast!

In love,
Irene Almond

If you would like to contact the author of this review, please send an e-mail to:

GrandmaMosesBabe69@angelfire.c om

Wednesdays 10:00 P.M. on NBC