here was a time when I didn’t watch television. Those were sunny days, with remarkably little binge drinking. And yet, I have to wonder: When I met someone my age with whom I had little in common, what did we have to talk about? I can remember staying silent and a little smug as colleagues discussed The O.C., or The Sopranos, two shows I have still never seen. (I have also never seen Everybody Loves Raymond, but strangely, it has never come up.) I could detach myself entirely as their discussions rose to a furious pitch—should Summer and Seth stay together? Would Peter Gallagher’s giant eyebrows finally meet and fall in love? Looking back, it was wrong to feel superior. After all, these people had their hands gripped firmly on the zeitgeist, and what did I have? Sarcasm and good health?

Well, my friends, that time has passed. I now know my Law & Order. I am deeply familiar with the after-dark MTV lineup. Have I watched Taradise? I have. Do I feel ashamed? Yes, and a little dirty. Still, last night, I stayed rapt as Tara and her homely brother trekked to Croatia to spread good will and VD. The show has a hold on me. And don’t even get me started on Laguna Beach or Date My Mom. I watch the shit out of those shows.

This is not the best thing in the world, but it's also not the worst. Every once in a while, I get in some drunken argument with an elitist who rails on and on about the poison that is reality television. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t like Fear Factor any more than the next person with a gag reflex. But I find this so amusing. Like, are they really nostalgic for the days when primetime was filled with quality television like Full House and ALF? Yes, The Swan was offensive. But so was Baywatch Nights. Reality television can be fascinating, even educational—consider The Amazing Race, or that time on The Surreal Life when Verne Troyer got wasted, stripped naked, and peed in a corner. This is the kind of stuff they don’t teach you in school. Of course, the true highbrow believes all television is evil. That it has dumbed us down, compromised our imaginations, left us slaves to visual imagery. To him, I say: I don’t understand. Can you say that again, with pretty pictures?