Confessions of a Teen Idol

There's a new reality show in town, put on by the folks at VH1, who care so little about what they put on the television it should be illegal.

It's called Confessions of a Teen Idol, and the premise is a doozy: A bunch of tools who used to be barely famous live in a house and try to revive their stalled careers. Did I mention that Scott Baio is the host? You may remember Baio as the tool from Charles in Charge. But did you know he recently became famous again? How did he do this? By getting his own reality show -- no, make that two reality shows -- on VH1.

And did you know that Jason Hervey is a producer of the show? You should. He used to be famous as the friend on Wonder Years. He recently regained some fame by being Scott Baio's friend on Baio's two reality shows. Jason Hervey is the proud son of Marsha and Alan Hervey. Marsha is a talent agent; Alan is a retail sales manager. He also married a porn star. This is all courtesy of Wikipedia.

Why is it important that you know this? It is most certainly not. But importance is a relative thing these days.

Hervey and Baio are mere bit players this time around, like TJ Lavin hosting Real World challenges. He's like, uh, I'm just a bit more famous than the formerly famous people on this show, so I have some credibility which I will lend to their careers, etc.

I grew up in the 80s and 90s and I only recognize two of the guys on this show; both are from "Baywatch," which is described as the No.-1-TV-show-in-America too many times to count. The "preview blog" on the show (and you see why I strongly dislike that word) says the men will bond together because, as former stars, they all share a common experience and even "speak a different language."

That language is douchebagtalk. Or douchebagspeak, for the Orwellians among us. DBS is a rare disease by which the afflicted are constantly remembering how awesome they used to be, compared with their current state, and talk in a slightly hidden way that drapes a thin veil over the meaning of their words. What they are really saying is this: Back when I was barely famous, I used to get pissy drunk with other famous people and I could fuck anyone I want. I did drugs, I spent money, I probably picked up a venereal disease. And now that I'm not famous anymore, life sucks, so I'm going to try to become famous again by being on a TV show about being formerly famous.

That being picked to be on this TV show is probably the best thing to happen to these people and their careers is never mentioned. And let me be clear: it's not the therapist they have to go to or Hervey's impassioned pleas (which are part of the show) that are going to help these gentlemen. It's just being on TV. No matter what it is. There is no such thing as bad publicity and everyone in the world, it seems, is out to prove it.

But they're never going to admit that on VH1. It breaks the fourth wall of reality TV, that you're not supposed to be acting, even though the show is written, and needs storylines, and sometimes these storylines are bullshit, and the people are acting.

But, then, what is acting? When is unprofessional acting on a reality show just being a dick? If I'm normally a nice person, but I am a dick for three months on a reality show, or the show is edited to show me at my most dick-like, am I then a dick? Or am I still the nice guy? Can I say I was just pretending? What if I'm marginally more dick-like in real life than on TV? Does any of this matter?

Which is more real: How I am or How I am on TV? Which is viewed more? Which becomes the real, whether we like it or not?

Too many questions for such a terrible, terrible TV show. I should be honest. I also recognize the guy from 90210. These guys are so pathetic and sad it makes me sad. The show itself is so much about failure it makes me feel like a failure. Because I'm the sad sack of shit watching this at home. These people have already had and lost more than I'll ever know, probably. And I'm reduced to watching them, and feeling slightly better than them, which is the point. It's the same reason they show the awful singers on American Idol, the same reason why we laugh at the person kicked off the Island first. It's all just a big game of status that we watch because we're losing the game in our own lives. Maybe if I was somebody, I wouldn't have to watch these nobodies.

But as long as I fail outside of the public eye, I still have my 15 minutes left. And that's a good thing these days.