Ya Man Flav Is Out of Rotation ...

"I guess I’ll go Bill Cosby on you, but it’s about time we as black people quit letting Flavor Flav and the rest of these clowns bojangle for dollars." ~ Jason Whitlock, Sports Columnist and media personality.

I have an admission. I watch Flavor of Love each week. I also tune in for every episode of Forensic Files, every Girlfriends re-run (you know about my infatuation with Toni Childs) and good History channel bits I can find. I pick up magazines and a decent book on the regular. I do like the idea of expanding my mind and horizons.

But on Sunday nights, 9 or 11 p.m. (depending on how good the Sunday night football game is), I'm propped up in front of the tube looking at Flavor Flav slob down some of the sleaziest women known to man.

It's an aberration of my habits because there is nothing to be gained from this aside from losing an hour of life to ignorance, which is not gaining anything. I know it's bojangling and idiocy at its best, but I can't stop watching.

I guess that ever since that blonde female Pumkin spit in New York's face, I've been hooked. I didn't really watch it before that. Pumkin's infamous incident reminded me of Bill Romanowski, the NFL player who was caught on tape spitting an opponent, minus the helmets. It was barbaric, something you rarely saw, and you just wondered what would happen next.

It's kind of, and I mean kind of, the same reason I tune in to as many football games (NFL or NCAA) as I can. It's why I watch the fourth quarter of NBA games, and the playoffs. It's the same reason I watch Mariano Rivera when I get a chance and why I'm always curious to see if Barry Bonds hit another home run.

(Crickets chirping)

In episode one of Flavor of Love Season 2, a woman lost control of her bowel. Honestly, watching Flavor Flav slob down woman after woman might be worse than the aforementioned. And though it's not real entertainment - it's ignorance - I watch. We watch.

We tune in faithfully as though the next great moment in civilization will happen before our eyes, and we know that is impossible unless aliens cart Flavor Flav off on their UFO on national TV. We, as a society, prefer popular ignorance to sensible entertainment.

We tune in as though hearing Flavor Flav behind the "do not disturb" sign with New York is similar in some way to Mike Jordan in the fourth quarter or Joe Montana to Dwight Clark. But unlike Jordan or Joe or even the famed Cosby Show, Flav doesn't fail.

We get the ignornace we want, the ignorance (Flav) gets to pay child support and the ignorance-providers (VH1, er MTV - another ignorant brand of its own right - er, Viacom which also owns the relative King of Ignorance ... I'm not even going to shame you with the name of that company) they get paid mad money. One-Hundred percent guaranteed. It's totally reminscent of one thing, and J-Dub said it best: bojangling.

And because the show rid itself of the one girl with a shread of decency (Bootz, who really wasn't that decent cause she still put her lips on Flav - yes, I'm having a superficial moment. But I call her decent because she "says" she's not having sex until marriage. I really just think she wasn't going there with Flav.), I'm done watching it. I'll catch happens in the end on Wikipedia.

CourtTV and the History Channel best step their game up.