Love Him, Or Leave Him?

"It's like watching the Hottentot Venus on display," says author Debra Dickerson, who penned an essay for Essence criticizing the show. "It's without redeeming value. . . . It's just about exploitation. It's like having slaves fight for your amusement."

Much of the appeal of "Flavor of Love" may come from its adhering to reality TV's ultimate rule: Nothing is too much. Witness the first episode of Season 2 when Somethin' apparently lost control of her bodily functions, relieving herself on the floor to the amusement and derision of her cast-mates.

"They have a woman taking a [expletive] on the floor; they're in a position where they have to push the envelope and be as ridiculous and disgusting as they can be, and it seems to be working for them," notes Todd Boyd, professor of critical studies at the University of Southern California and author of "Young, Black, Rich and Famous: The Rise of the NBA, the Hip Hop Invasion and the Transformation of American Culture."

Is this just a harmless entry in the gross-out canon of "Jackass" or "South Park"? Or does the fact that a flesh-and-blood woman, a black woman, is doing this on national television take on a certain racial resonance?

"On an audience that grew up with Dave Chappelle, we're not talking the normal rules of engagement," argues Robert Thompson, director of the Center for the Study of Popular Television at Syracuse University, "where we argued about whether or not J.J. Walker on 'Good Times' was a bad thing for African Americans. Back then the argument was so simple."

And then again, sometimes a comedy is just comedy.

For a down-on-his-luck rapper -- who just a few years ago spent time in Rikers -- reality television provided a second life: Flavor Flav first appeared in VH1's "Surreal Life," where he hooked up with Danish giantess Brigitte Nielsen. Their pairing so enthralled viewers that it spawned the couple's own reality show, "Strange Love," on which Nielsen kicked him to the curb. Flav's onetime band mate Chuck D publicly denounced the "Flavploitation" of "Strange Love," which has seen "his character and private issues . . . being trashed in front of millions for the mere sake of profit and ratings."

Flav wasn't doing TV, Chuck D declared, TV was doing Flav.

Or is it that simple?

Historically, minstrels -- white or black performers in blackface -- performed demeaning racial stereotypes for the pleasure of a segregated white audience. Cable is open to anyone. If African Americans are tuning in, in droves, does the charge of modern-day minstrelsy still ring true? The argument becomes more complex.

Viewers like Yvette Brullard say they tune in for both the yuck factor and the yuk-yuks.

"I like the show," says Brullard, a 39-year-old administrative assistant from New Jersey who watches the show with her three teenage daughters. But sometimes the depiction of the women gives her pause. "I always said Bubba from the sticks was watching the show and he's still back in 1960; he'll think this is how black women are."

She says it's like watching an accident: "You don't want to look but you can't help it. I even got my mom into it. It's like her regular soap opera."

And perhaps therein lies the key to "Flavor of Love's" popularity. It's a comic soap opera starring an oddly compelling character, who for all his flaws has a certain weirdly repulsive charm, refereeing catfights with sweet concern. Not to mention that, next to the shenanigans of New York and her "I Have a Condition" mama, Flav actually seems sane. You might not want to watch him French-kiss Krazy or Bootz, but it's hard not to root for him as he tries to find, among the gold-diggers, if not true love then someone to kick it with after the credits roll.

"I get a little upset when people criticize Flav," says "Flavor of Love" co-creator Mark Cronin. "He's so honest about who he is. . . . He just behaves the way he wants to behave. . . . I'm sorry some people think he's behaving in a way that people see as demeaning.

"Going on television is a very dangerous thing," Cronin adds. "I feel if we do a show that wasn't controversial or outrageous, then why bother? It's entertainment. It's meant to be fun."