Jersey Shore drinking away N.J.’s money

Rhydian Talbot/Staff Writer

It seems as if New Jersey has got a little “Situation” on it’s hands.

Get this: the New Jersey Economic Development Authority granted a $420,000 tax rebate to the company responsible for producing the first season of the ill-conceived reality series, Jersey Shore.

The state program offers subsidies to marketing-based groups that ensure at least 50% of its production expenses happen within the state of New Jersey, regardless of the group’s content.

The program also, apparently, supports the legal robbery of $420,000 from the wallets of educators and doctors and public servants in order to support such earth-shattering events as “Snookie gets punched.”

Not all in positions of authority agreed with such a shameful misuse of the taxpayers’ dollars, however.

In a move that opened himself up to criticism from fake-bakers and booze-aholics everywhere, Governor Chris Christie vetoed the tax break, vehement in his beliefs that taxpayers not get saddled with paying for a project “which does nothing more than perpetuate misconceptions about the state and it’s citizens.”

Christie’s press secretary, Michael Drewniak, also shot down the show, branding the cast as “phonies” that offer a “false portrayal of New Jersey and [its] shore communities,” according to ABC News.

Governor Christie, ladies and gentlemen: minimizing the destruction of this generation, one snubbed oompa-loompa at a time.

In the two years since its first episode destroyed modern television as we know it, Jersey Shore hasn’t merely perpetuated misconceptions about the state of New Jersey — it has single-handedly destroyed what little credibility the Garden State could’ve claimed for itself.

The cast’s affinity for drunken rendezvouses in hot tubs and stints in jail for aggressive partying has created an unbreakable association between themselves and the state unfortunate enough to house such shenanigans.

Now, the mere mention of the word “Jersey,” even when used in an ambiguous context, automatically conjures images of sky-high bouffants and barely-there tops, gelled hair-helmets and Ed Hardy tees.

Jersey Shore has fist-pumped Jersey State into utter submission and befouled it’s name for the foreseeable future, with or without a tax break.

An episode of Shore plays out like a wilder, Homo sapien-ed take on an Animal Planet documentary.

The “animals” in question spend much of the hour stumbling around in a drunken rage like wounded giraffes on broken legs as they challenge alphas to battles of pride.

Mating is at the forefront of each specimen’s mind, and they act on instinct by engaging in wild sex-capades while flaunting their plasticized assets like baboons in heat.

Their uncouth language and behavior turn them into untamed savages, tossing around explosive vulgarities like the Jägerbombs they down at any given opportunity.

And, because of the unclean nature of such uncivilized beasts, the observer finishes the episode feeling like they’ve contracted eight or nine communicable diseases just by watching the primal antics unfold.

Despite Governor Christie’s correct withholding of tax dollars, the irreparable damage has been done.

There’s little action that can be taken to stop a cultural phenomenon, despite it’s less-than-desirable nature.

The only good that’s come out of this modern Armageddon is it’s voyeuristic look into how “the other half” lives; the self-professed “guidos/guidettes” provide wholesome Midwest adolescents the opportunity to peek into the dirty, dirty world of big city nightclubs, random hook-ups, and sloppy-drunk breakdowns.

If Jersey Shore is worthy of a monetary payback for anything, it should be for its community service: the series plays as one continuous Public Service Announcement warning of the dangers of alcohol abuse and general stupidity.

Don’t agree? Well, then — come at me, bro.