While the Secret Service tries to answer the question “How did Tareq and Michaele Salahi get into a White House state dinner?”, it is our job to ask, “In what sense was this a viable reality show audition?”

Like Richard Heene with his child-hating dirigible, the Salahis apparently thought an idiotic stunt would make them seem more attractive to a cable suitor.

Come to think of it, a show about a guy who tries to worm his way into exclusive events might be entertaining, as long as national security wasn’t compromised. But the host would have to be interesting and funny in the first place.

The Salahis, as near as I can figure, aren’t interesting or funny. But like a lot of wealthy people, they seem to assume they are.

The truth is, there is nothing more boring than a doughy upper cruster and his trophy wife.

Money doesn’t make people interesting; it just makes them rich.

The next time you are tempted to feel envious of the lifestyles of the rich and phlegmatic as they are depicted on the Travel Channel, just try not to nod off while these swells are being interviewed.

On one program, listening to a guy who’d built the fastest luxury yacht in existence discuss his accomplishment was like taking a lengthwise drive across Nebraska with only a CD of Perry Como lullabies to keep you company.

In another, watching a married couple who’d become the first people to move into the world’s only residential cruise ship talk about their “unique” lifestyle was like sitting through an exhaustive slide show devoted to the history of wood wall paneling.

Why are so many reality shows devoted to people who have accomplished little in life save marry into money?

Why are so many devoted to poor little rich kids whose only discernable talent seems to be their knack for showing how poorly raised they were?

I have asked the following question before, and I will probably ask it again: If we have to have reality shows, wouldn’t it be preferable to devote them to people who aren’t venal and stupid?

Celebrity status

Speaking of which, when I heard that someone had leaked a sex tape featuring Tila Tequila, I asked the question that all ethical and sentient Americans probably uttered at that precise moment: Who is Tila Tequila?

Honestly, I had no idea. A younger co-worker had to clue me in.

I did a little follow-up research, and, let tell you, that is some research worth doing.

Here’s my take on this scandal. A celebrity sex tape can’t be shocking if the so-described celebrity featured in it has not yet accomplished anything in her career as dignified and artistically significant as a sex tape.

Foggy standards

The same week that singer Adam Lambert shocked dozens, if not legions, of Americans with his homoerotic dance routine on the American Music Awards, I watched “Jackass 2.0” on basic cable.

At one point in that sadomasochistic prankfest, longtime “Jackass” cast member Bam Margera inserts a marital aid where the sun doesn’t shine (which is to say where the sun doesn’t usually shine; for all I know, you have a “plein-air” proctologist).

Anyway, the sun shone on Margera that day, my friends, because he intended to fly a kite.

The kite string was attached to the marital aid.

None of this was censored in any way that I could tell.

Flash back to Lambert’s appearance on CBS’ “The Early Show.”

Lambert’s “Early Show” segment was hastily arranged after ABC chickened out on interviewing the “American Idol” runner-up. But when CBS revisited video of Lambert’s AMA performance, it fogged out footage of Lambert kissing one of his male backup dancers.

Actually, it wasn’t so much a fog-out as a fog bank.

Never in the history of censorship have I seen a digital blur blob so huge.

Apparently, CBS was not content to merely hide from viewers the fact that the men had kissed. It also wanted to make viewers question whether the men had heads.

Where digital blur blobs are concerned, there are no uniform guidelines, it seems.

We know the blobs that cover the shame of coeds on spring break are usually as inconspicuous as possible.

The one that conceals a portion of a morbidly obese man who dances naked on “Tim and Eric’s Awesome Show Great Job!” is also surprisingly small.

The blobs on “Jackass” are notoriously fickle and undependable.

It may shock some “Jackass” fans to read this, but there are people who watch that show and all they see is repressed homosexuality. They believe the stunts are just a way for professed but defensive heterosexuals to interact while naked.

I don’t agree with this because if any of the cast members came out of the closet, it would probably halt production on “Jackass 3D.”

The point here is this: Apparently, two guys can kiss on TV as long as they make clear beforehand that they are either confident heterosexuals who are merely joking or shaky heterosexuals whose goal in life despite any same-sex kissing on display is to become (or at least impersonate) confident heterosexuals.

There’s nothing Lambert did on that stage that countless heterosexual pop stars haven’t done to death before he came along.

It’s understandable that some people may be offended by these sorts of rock star monkeyshines, as boring and hackneyed as they are at this point. But such objections shouldn’t be used to disguise homophobia.