‘Wipeout,’ spectacles, and the image of God

For me, ‘Wipeout’ is vicarious stress release. As I watch contestants bounce, flail, and fall, the worries of the day seem to go splashing away with them. For 41 minutes (after TiVo-zapping the commercials) I can idle my brain and not think about the e-mails I have to reply to and errands I have to run. So I’d like to think that the show’s only effect on me is therapeutic. But I might be overlooking two things:

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