Pondering: If some TV exec dreamed up a new reality series centered around a strip club, would the resultant marketing come up with the term “Realititty Television”?

It seems like a natural — even if the featured titties wouldn’t be.

Think such a concept would never fly, either with the TV industry or the nudie club business? I beg to differ. On the television side, this hardly scrapes the bottom of the reality barrel, and the surefire ratings from featuring nekkid women (even with the naughty bits pixelated out), aided by the built-in controversy it would attract, would dismiss any objections. As for the “gentlemen’s clubs”, the increasingly corporate nature of the business means they’d welcome the exposure (no pun intended — mostly).

Reality television certainly is popular — a reliable source of watercooler fodder. But is that the main reason why the powers-that-be have doubled down on them, instead of traditional scripted programming?

Harvard professor emeritus Richard E. Caves, in his book “Switching Channels: Organization and Change in TV Broadcasting”, makes almost the opposite argument: As the viewing audience for traditional broadcast networks fragments and gravitates toward cable and Internet, the economics in producing traditional programming makes less sense.

The programming is a fixed cost — networks pay for the programs even if nobody watches. If paying an extra $1 million to get a star onto a show, for example, raises every customer’s love of the show by the equivalent of $1, the investment more than pays off if there are 10 million potential viewers. But the $1 million investment would be a terrible flop if there were 10,000 potential viewers…

With the big shift to cable and satellite television (we now watch more cable than broadcast programs), cable networks have had a big incentive to upgrade their product, while the incentive for broadcast networks has moved in the opposite direction.

So the increase in reality programming is not just a matter of broadcasters wanting to save money. It’s that a shrinking potential market gives the networks less incentive to spend money. They can’t recoup it with enough viewers.

But this doesn’t explain why cable networks are flooded with so many reality shows as well. If anything, this indicates how much trending accounts for strategic decisions in television programming: It’s assumed that ABC, CBS, FOX, and NBC will continue to bleed away viewers, and so the cost-cutting is implemented now.

More importantly, those viewers aren’t going to congregate to an equivalent handful of cable network equivalents — the audience will remain fragmented across dozens of niche channels. Certain events, like Super Bowls, will score tons of viewers in one shot, but those will be exceptions. Plus, the Web will continue to siphon away eyeballs from cable as well as broadcast. So there’s no inverse trending toward cable, and so channels there follow course and keep their production costs low as well, leading to even more reality shows.

And advertising ties it all together. The buy-in from sponsors ensures that lower production values will fly. There’ll be a bottoming out, looping back to audience preferences, but as long as the ad money keeps flowing, the business will hum. The opportunity for niche-audience product targeting only sweetens the deal.

So the explosion of cable channels led to the rise of “Survivor” and the like. As YouTube and other user-generated/submitted content sites draw more eyeballs, the race to the bottom hasn’t ended yet.

So, when Country Music Television drops your tiara-wearing ass, where’s a beauty queen spectacle to go?

I’m guessing well off the basic cable grid. Maybe they can condense and fast-forward it into a compact enough video presentation that Current will grant it a 6-7 minute broadcast window.

I’m thinking it’s time for the Miss America Pageant to give up the ghost already. Even a reality television makeover for the venerable beauty contest didn’t spur enough TV audience staying power. Short of going all-nude, I can’t imagine what would bring this relic back from its deathbed.

The atmosphere in Kobe Club is described in a recent restaurant review as “part samurai fantasia, part torture chamber and packed with chunky guys on expense accounts”.

But that’s only if you look around you. Slide your eyes upward, and you get the real show:

Hanging upside down from the ceiling in the nearly pitch-black dining room are sharp, gleaming samurai swords, about 2,000 of them. The server volunteered that number, appended with an assurance that the blades, firmly anchored, shouldn’t cause any concern.

Maybe it’s this unsettling Sword-of-Damocles ambience that contributed to all the lousy reviews. Or maybe it’s just another grossly overpriced eatery, from the same restauranteur who brought you Rocco’s on 22nd (the setting for the contentiously short-lived reality show, “The Restaurant”).

It just so happens that Kobe Club is a block away from my office. I would try to get in there some time, just to see this spectacle for myself. I doubt it would be worth the bill, though.

So today’s the day: The latest iteration of “Survivor” premieres in primetime tonight, with its gimmicky made-to-order controversy over racially-determined competing teams.

If I gave a rat’s ass about the show, or for reality television in general, I guess I’d be sure to be parked in front of my set tonight. As it is, this strikes me as typical behavior for a ten-year-old series that’s inevitably getting stale.

But hey. If CBS and producer Mark Burnett really wanted to spice things up, they should have borrowed a couple of my favorite vote-off-the-island concepts:

- “Survivor: South Central”. Forming alliances? Try aligning yourself with the right street gang on Crenshaw — or else get a cap busted in your ass!

Survivors will compete in many challenges including a dash from Rosecrans all the way to Atlantic Boulevard which crosses seven different gang territories within the 2 mile journey. Every three blocks, contestants will change into shirts that bear the color and tag of that neighborhood’s most hated rival gang.

- “Survivor: Jihad”. Sleeping in a straw hut on some tropical island, or hunkering down in some cave in Afghanistan — which would you rather watch some namby-pamby contestants endure?

It’s the reality show everyone is talking about. Sixteen contestants. Sixteen beards. Fifteen martyrs. One survivor. Don’t miss “Survivor: Jihad” — only on Al Jazeera.

Not to fear — I’m sure these parodies will become all too real in “Survivor” seasons to come.

What Springsteen said, times 20 or 30 — that’s the state of today’s television landscape. With digital acreage so vast that you’d think just about any distinctly-niche channel could find a home, networks are paradoxically more and more indistinguishable from one another, despite the disadvantage that brings when trying to attract targeted ad dollars.

“Cable has obviously changed,” said Harry Castleman, a TV historian and co-author of “Watching TV: Six Decades of American Television.” “In the old days — 10 years ago — cable was niche broadcasting. You had the sports channel, you had the movie channel, you had the women’s channel, the arts channel. Then when all the major conglomerates began buying up all the cable networks, it changed. They said, hey, these are great platforms we can use to be able to deliver our product. They’ve done that.

“So, A&E? Not much arts and entertainment there. Bravo? Not too much high brow. AMC? They don’t even call it American Movie Classics anymore. TLC is not The Learning Channel anymore. The cable channels are becoming interchangeable.”

Even more irony: Reality television, that supposed reinvigorator of televised content, has a lot to do with the industry’s copycat syndrome:

Nowhere does the distinction between cable channels become more blurred than the arena of reality shows, which took off in 2000 when CBS’s “Survivor” became a surprise hit. Viewers of “Dog the Bounty Hunter” (A&E), “American Chopper” (Discovery Channel), “Hogan Knows Best” (VH1) and “Gene Simmons Family Jewels” (A&E) may not identify with the branding of the channels those shows are on, because there’s no reason why any of them couldn’t air on different cable networks.

It’s not like this is new. As they became established and more mainstream, a lot of cable channels adopted broader operating objectives, because that’s what brought in the most money. To this day, MTV — which “used to play music”, as the cynical joke goes — is the poster child for this dynamic.

That was fine last century, when it was still expected that broadcasted television would still occupy the biggest chunk of consumers’ leisure time. Now? The Web, quick-release DVDs, videogames and other media options are starting to cut into viewing time. Advertisers see this and follow the eyeballs; it doesn’t matter to them what the medium is, as long as the audience is there. In this environment, television can’t rely upon being the chief media outlet anymore. The old rules for broadening appeal are changing.

Not that this is an overnight phenomenon. For now, TV is still the big cheese, and that counts bigtime. But the sands are shifting, and the industry will have to shift along with them to stay on top.

Sign of the times: Childless English baron Sir Benjamin Slade, on the lookout for an American heir to his Maunsel House estate, is developing an “Apprentice”-style reality show to help him winnow down the candidates.

Sir Benjamin is looking forward to ejecting the losers with his own aristocratic catchphrase: “You’re disinherited.”

I’m sure NBC is desperate enough to slot it into its primetime lineup. They’d probably even provide the $140,000 in annual upkeep the estate requires.

To coincide with this week’s season premiere of “America’s Next Top Model”, the West Coast branch of the Writers Guild of America is releasing “Top Model for Sale”, a parody video short expounding upon what the Guild considers to be egregious product placement on that particular reality hit.

I particularly like the Nike Swoosh temp tattoo on the forehead of the Tyra Banks character. They should have gotten someone hotter to play Tyra, though.

Here’s the iPod-friendly M4V file. I’m sure MPEG and WMV formats will crop up soon enough (although, as of this writing, I don’t see it on usual suspect YouTube.)

This clip is part of Product Invasion, a broader effort by the WGA to protest rampant advertising content insertion into shows:

“We’re trying to get the attention of our employers, the companies that own and operate show business,” said Patric M. Verrone, president of the Writers Guild, West, referring to entertainment conglomerates like Walt Disney, Time Warner and Viacom. “But they’re managed so far to avoid us.”

“We’re trying to make a mark by calling attention to some of the companies doing this branded entertainment by counterbranding their products,” Mr. Verrone said. Procter was chosen to be parodied, he added, because it is “America’s top integrator” of products into programming.

Left unsaid: Reality shows, being lightly scripted by nature, are perceived as a threat to writers who rely upon traditional scripted television series for their livelihood. So there’s certainly a cynical edge here in the WGA’s motives. But in that sense, it’s genius to frame their campaign this way — no one’s a particular fan of creeping advertising.

So how do the casting agents for “Wife Swap” find suckers contestants to come on the show?

Apparently, they troll the myriad mommyblogs out there for takers.

An online farm system for reality television. It almost makes me wish blogs had never been invented.

When “The Daly Planet” was announced, I predicted it would be a monster hit.

Well, the review is in, and it looks like neither John Daly nor The Golf Channel know how to work the reality TV angle:

What Daly needs for a successful reality show - even if it isn’t what Daly needs to maintain his sanity and career - is a crazy, camera-hogging family, an obnoxious agent, maybe a Tin Cup-like performance in a big event.

But this is the Golf Channel, not Bravo. If Daly has any of these to offer fans of reality TV, the producers didn’t let us see it. But in this episode, there wasn’t much to offer golf fans either.

Like I said before: Too bad Daly’s not still drinking. It would beat watching him try to launch golfballs over Niagara Falls.

Hoping to capture a buzz akin to that of “The Osbournes” or “American Chopper”, The Golf Channel will be showing a reality series starring golf bad-boy John Daly, dubbed “The Daly Planet”, starting January 18th.

Does this have “monster hit” written all over it, or what? Daly, the PGA’s anti-Tiger Woods, could use a jolt after fading out over the last couple of years. And, like many other niche outlets, The Golf Channel could use programming that appeals beyond its core audience. Daly’s predictable antics should fit the bill nicely. (Too bad he’s not still drinking…)

I was unaware of Daly’s role as movie inspiration — prior to the fact:

Daly’s life has seemed the stuff of fiction before. At a 1998 tournament, Daly shot an 18 on one hole, hitting shot after shot into a water hazard, an effort virtually mimicked by Kevin Costner’s character in the 1996 movie “Tin Cup.” In the movie, Costner plays a regular guy — a driving range owner — who has a chance to win the U.S. Open before stubbornly hitting balls repeatedly into a pond.

“I still say they made that movie after me,” Daly said at the time.

I guess his audition in ‘98 has finally paid off. Then again, his whole career could be construed as a reality TV audition.

If fans of “America’s Next Top Model” are expecting to see the show’s winner attain supermodelhood, they’re heading for a letdown. The consensus among fashion insiders is that all the contestants on the reality show are too old, too fat, and — the kicker — too American to make it in the current modeling game.

I’d be surprised if most “Top Model” fans really think the show’s going to produce the next Cindy Crawford, though. Like any reality show, the appeal is in all the manufactured drama. The fact that the protagonists are catwalking Barbie dolls instead of faux survivalists just gives it a hook among the likeliest 18-34 audience:

“I see girls sitting on the No. 4 train to Brooklyn saying, ‘Omigod, I have to get home because the Tyra show is on,’ ” said Wayne Sterling, the editor of Models.com, a slick Web site that obsessively rates model status. “The show has become their spectrum, a Midwest, middle-of-the-road simulation of what the business is like.”

I was unaware of the exact order of non-Americans flooding the modeling ranks: First Brazilians, then Belgians, then Eastern Europeans. (If anything, I’d have guess the opposite order of procession.) And who knew that the classic American look was poised for a comeback (even if it’s not coming from “the Tyra show”):

Whether a banner season for one young mannequin augurs a major taste shift in the modeling business and perhaps even a return to what some forecast as a resurgence of classic American sportswear it seems early to predict. “Does it mean we’re going to see a comeback for American models?” [IMG president Ivan] Bart asked. “Who knows? But I can tell you that nobody but nobody wanted Hillary [Rhoda] until Paris, and then Nicolas [Ghesquiere] cast her. And then suddenly this whole American in Paris thing kicked in and she was totally, totally the top girl of the week.”

All I know is, you’d better work it, girl.

Who would think that the oldest member of the “American Chopper” Teutul trio would be the most popular with the kiddies? Goofball Mikey enlightens on one part of Orange County Choppers’ mass appeal:

But this family’s unique brand of bikes and bickering flat-out works.

“It’s my father,” Mikey says. “He’s a spectacle.

“You know what’s the interesting thing about him? Children love him. I think it’s because he looks like a cartoon character. I swear to God. Kids cry when they see me. But they smile when they see him. They go for his mustache.”

Paul Sr. as a cuddly Yosemite Sam? Tarnation!

So what does that make Mikey?

“Man, what about when I’m a has-been?” Mikey says. “Are people going to treat me like Vanilla Ice?”

Slice like a ninja, cut like a razor blade, Mikey? Let’s hope not.

No lie: While walking back to work today with my lunch, I saw this dude at the corner of 2nd Avenue South and 3rd Street (downtown St. Pete) who looked like a dead ringer for Mikey Teutul from “American Chopper”.

Well, actually, this guy seemed taller. But otherwise, just like idiot Mikey (the real article pictured above).

It’s a strange era we live in when looking like Mikey is actually something to shoot for.

Incidentally, the Teutuls’ Orange County Chopper shop is right down the road from where I grew up. My cousin Bill claims to know somebody who knows somebody who was a business partner with big-scary Paul Sr., just before the TV show came around.

What does an ex-NFL QB do 15 years after retirement? If you’re career backup Gary Hogeboom, you join the case of “Survivor: Guatemala”, the latest installment of the granddaddy reality show.

But he’s doing it with some trepidation:

“I don’t want to go by my last name on the show,” Hogeboom said on CBS’s Early Show Thursday, “People would vote me off immediately if someone knew I was in the NFL. Everyone thinks we made big money. I was pre-big money.”

Um. I don’t dispute the lack of major money during Hogeboom’s playing days (remember Plan B free agency, anyone?). But I don’t think Hogeboom has to worry about anyone recognizing him; I doubt his on-field performances left many memories in the minds of football fandom.

It was announced almost two months ago, and now it’s coming to pass: OLN and GSN will commence showing reruns of “Survivor” and “The Amazing Race”, in what amounts to a litmus test for the business of reality TV repeats.

“Is it a guaranteed bet? No,” said Bill Carroll, an expert in the syndication market for Katz Television. “Is it a good, reasonable roll of the dice? Yes. I think they have a good chance of people who don’t normally watch their networks checking them out, without alienating their core audience.”

These shows’ value will be determined with time, if they can draw solid ratings after being on the air 40 or 50 times like I Love Lucy or Seinfeld, he said.

But the implications for television stretch beyond two networks and two shows.

As [reality producer Mark] Burnett explained, syndication money was never a part of the Survivor business plan; you can bet it will be for his shows in the future if it does well. An oddity of television is that many comedies and dramas truly can’t make money for the studios that make them unless they make it to syndication. Will the extra competition make it harder to make new scripted shows?

I was indeed skeptical of the viability of syndicating reality fare, because I was assuming the anticipation of the outcome was part of the appeal. But now, I’m not so sure. If the ride to the end was so entertaining, it stands to reason that fans would want to watch it again and again, re-experiencing key moments. And at root, reality shows are just as re-watchable as any other series television or movie, as long as the audience wants it.

Going by the small handful of friends I have who watch reality shows, I’m pretty much convinced that syndicated runs of past seasons will probably find success. Meaning that OLN and GSN will have gambled right, and roped in a huge new audience.

A while back, I stated that my alma mater, Eckerd College, could boast of only one truly famous graduate: Novelist Dennis Lehane, of “Mystic River” fame.

Zac Turney aims to be EC star Number Two. He landed a spot as one of the Gilligans on this season’s edition of “The Real Gilligan’s Island”.

As an alum, I’m so damned proud. And, not wanting to pass up a marketing opp, so is the school.

I particularly like how Turney wound up being a Little Buddy (tough for him if he doesn’t like that nickname):

“I was thinking, “I don’t want to be Gilligan, I want to be the professor.’ Then I saw where you have to have a Ph.D., so I said, “Well, looks like I’m stuck as Gilligan.’ “

An early lesson: Stay in school.

When open auditions for “Survivor” roll into town, you’ve just got to take your shot.

Well, I don’t. I can’t stand that reality TV shit. Besides, I already had my fun by auditioning for ESPN’s “Dream Job”; one television cattle call in a lifetime is enough.

But others can have their fun. Like Terry Tomalin, who checked out, and participated in, the scene at Tampa’s “Survivor” free-for-all.

Maybe not so surprisingly, the show’s signature scheming starts long before the cameras start rolling:

That is when Jeff Nolen, the infamous “man in the pink hat,” returned and tried to lure me to the dark side.

“I like your shirt,” the 40-year-old from New Port Richey declared. “Let’s talk.”

But Cheryl Clark, the 38-year-old owner of a lawn care business in Bradenton, warned me about joining Nolen’s team.

“He’s trying to form alliances with everybody,” she said. “Watch out. He’ll vote you off the island.”

Shocked and disillusioned, I went off in search of my own posse, hoping to form an alliance that could withstand even the Axis of Evil.

“What’s with the karate uniform?” I asked James Kendrick as he awaited his turn before the camera.

“I am a martial arts instructor,” the 42-year-old from Lakeland replied.

I told Kendrick I was looking for a good man to cover my back if and when we made it to the island.

“Do you have any survival skills?” I asked.

“I can chop wood with my bare hands,” he replied.

“Good enough.”

So we headed back through the crowd to find Nolen and the rest of his Pink Hat Mafia.

“He went to the bar,” said Reniger, the hairstylist. “I take it that you have formed your own alliance?”

I smiled. Kendrick and I had agreed to split the cool million, 50-50.

“If they find out, you’ll be disqualified,” Reniger said.

“What if we cut you in for a third?” I said.

He smiled. I was finally learning what it takes to be a survivor.

Is there any chance that Tomalin will make it onto the show? He’s got certain qualifications:

When my turn came, they ushered me into a little room and gave me the signal to begin.

“I’ve sipped champagne with movie stars and killed a wild pig with a spear,” I began.

I spent the next 110 seconds talking about the sum of my more memorable adventures… swimming from Alcatraz, paddling a canoe to Bimini, backpacking through New Zealand, hanging with witch doctors in the Amazon…

Aside from his outdoorsman profile, there’s enough more behind that champagne-with-movie-stars thing that would make Tomalin an intriguing “Survivor” participant. I’m not at liberty to disclose the skinny — I defer to Terry on that — but it would bring a different spin to the show.

Not too long ago, veteran television producer Bernie Brillstein noted that the worst thing about reality shows was their dismal prospects for recyclability. He summed it up thusly: “You can’t syndicate this dreck.”

He doesn’t think so, but OLN (formerly Outdoor Life Network) does. In a move apparently devoid of irony — considering that OLN’s usual outdoor sports programming suggests a dedication to real “reality programming” — the cable channel will start airing reruns of “Survivor” this month.

And lest you think that no one would ever want to watch warmed over repeats of a competition where the outcome is already known — observe the squeals of glee.

It’s all in the packaging, I suppose. Running marathons, splicing up episodes to highlight fan favorites like Richard Hatch, and other repurposing gimmicks will certainly squeeze more life out a limited-shelf-life product. But it has to start from a base of fans who can’t get enough of the shows, and would eagerly relive “classic” editions. It strikes me as absurd, but then again, reality TV in general struck me as absurd to begin with. I have little doubt that reruns will bring in viewers, for a while at least.

This runs along the same track as the rollout of “Survivor” DVDs. I haven’t heard if they’ve been selling particularly well; I imagine someone must have bought a few, or else this OLN deal wouldn’t have materialized.

To me, this makes as little sense as rerunning gameshow episodes — which is, essentially, what “Survivor”-type reality fare is, when you strip away the dramatic touches. If it didn’t work for “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?”, why should it work now? Of course, those dramatic touches are what make reality shows so compelling…

So I watched the season finale of “Survivor” last night. Not at all by choice — it was the sociable thing to do (as was playing a Strawberry Shortcake card game).

As is usually the case whenever I deign to watch one of these reality crapfests, I was severely underwhelmed. Aside from the completely manufactured suspense — I could see the outcome from a mile away — the premise for “Survivor” is just so fake. They’re not “surviving” anything. The contestants’ well-being is never in any real peril, and therefore it’s hard for me to give a damn. The high-school level scheming and conniving don’t do it for me either.

I have a running joke with my friends who watch the show — that they should do editions in some real danger zones. And here are my two favorites:

- “Survivor: South Central”. Forming alliances? Try aligning yourself with the right street gang on Crenshaw — or else get a cap busted in your ass!

Survivors will compete in many challenges including a dash from Rosecrans all the way to Atlantic Boulevard which crosses seven different gang territories within the 2 mile journey. Every three blocks, contestants will change into shirts that bear the color and tag of that neighborhood’s most hated rival gang.

- “Survivor: Jihad”. Sleeping in a straw hut on some tropical island, or hunkering down in some cave in Afghanistan — which would you rather watch some namby-pamby contestants endure?

It’s the reality show everyone is talking about. Sixteen contestants. Sixteen beards. Fifteen martyrs. One survivor. Don’t miss “Survivor: Jihad” — only on Al Jazeera.

(If anyone can locate the fake promo video for this, from the Letterman show, I’d love to get a copy.)

Fresh off his first starring role, in Hong Kong production Where is Mama’s Boy?, pop cultural oddity William Hung declares he won’t play anything but clean-cut characters during his acting career.

Does anyone want to clue in this “American Idol” refugee that the only reason he’s in a movie to begin with is purely for the kitsch value he brings, and not because anyone imagines he has any sort of talent?

Let’s hope he sticks to his guns on this, regardless. Otherwise, he could end up as a porn flick sideshow, like fellow 15-minutes-of-famer Scotty Schwartz.