There is a Special Place in Hell Reserved for Maury Povich

Maury, how I worship thee.

There seems to be an endless supply of souls ready to put the most intimate details of their lives on daytime television airwaves. Perhaps the best example of such fodder is Maury, a talk show with a primary focus in paternity testing and exposing lovers as horrible cheaters. I tend to catch Maury at least two or three days a week, and it’s become a part of my lazy day routine. I can’t really explain why I enjoy Maury so much – perhaps it’s the comfort of knowing that I am not one of the women testing ten or more men in a futile search for the father of my toddler, or perhaps it’s the show’s constant revelations of men being cheating assholes who leave evidence of their infidelity for their miffed women to find. Either way, Maury is a fascinating piece of pop cultural awesome that many people, whether they will admit it or not, would very much enjoy.

Maury receives criticism for the way the show presents an endless parade of human suffering for the delight of the unemployed and lazy who are watching at home. I have to hand it to Maury Povich. He’s made a career out of searching for deadbeat fathers and exposing dirty, nasty cheaters. But is he exploiting these sad, desperate people? Many would think so, but he’s become a millionaire doing what he does best. If he has to fake a little sympathy and tell his guests to “do what’s best for that child,” then so be it! However, if there is a hell, or even purgatory, for that matter, Maury Povich could very well be on a VIP list.

Some of the most entertaining paternity cases I have seen recently involved the following items: a woman testing three different men at once (her ex, her ex’s cousin, and the cousin’s other cousin – none of them were the father), a woman testing a sixteenth man (he was the father!), and a show with the theme, “I’m not the father – test the pizza delivery man!!!” Ah, Maury is such a beautiful and constant reminder of why I love America so much.

Maury lets viewers in on the most intimate details of the lives of others and dares to entertain those stuck at home watching daytime television. I am sick of the implication that anyone who watches Maury could not possibly be intelligent or empathetic toward others. I recognize that the “guests” appearing on Maury may not have been dealt the best of hands in life, and it is not up to me to judge the outcomes of their poor decision-making. However, Maury serves both as entertainment and a moral guidebook for the restless throngs at home on their couches. I now leave you with what is perhaps the most salient daytime talk show quote of all time (right behind Steve Wilkos’s “Why are you still sitting on my stage!?!”):

YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER!

(I have already checked if I could put it on mugs. Those mugs already exist.)