Last night, I became a part of the problem.

While I should probably be more discreet about it, I don’t hide the fact that I watch ABC Family’s pre-teen soap opera Secret Life of the American Teenager. It’s not just a show that I stop on when I’m channel surfing on Monday night’s either. It has the same viewing commitment that I give to unembarrassing programming like Modern Family, 30 Rock, or How I Met Your Mother. It has a DVR series recording set up just in case I’m away from a TV when 8 p.m. rolls around Monday evening. In short, I give it more love and affection than any woman in my life.

When Secret Life was over last night (a gruesomely awkward/awesome season premiere, by the way), I couldn’t help myself and continued to indulge in terrible TV. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a lot out there these days. I started with a light load and switched to The Bachelor, a reality-show mainstay that kicked off its 14th season last night. Personally, I can’t speak to the soul of The Bachelor since I’ve never watched more than a few minutes. For all I know, it could be the greatest piece of art the small screen has ever seen. More likely, it’s just the lesser of many evils in the world of reality dating shows. It might seem like absolute junk if it wasn’t for Rock of Love and Flavor of Love and all of the other VH1 programs helping it shine in comparison. (For the record, The Bachelor begat those fine slices of Americana.)

The Bachelor’s credibility aside, when 10 p.m. rolled along, the real reality binge occurred. I dabbled in three shows that bring me great shame to mention now that the dust has settled: Conveyor Belt of Love, Jersey Shore, and Keeping up with the Kardashians. The first of these shows is new to ABC and follows The Bachelor, which means they expect to attract some of that show’s audience and hold onto them for the 10 p.m. slot. If this is the case, it’s not saying much about Bachelor fans. Conveyor Belt of Love is a dating show where men pass by a panel of women on a conveyor belt. The women stop the men, ask them questions, and determine whether or not they want to go on a date with them. Of course, some men don’t make the cut and are discarded to the end of the conveyor belt, where ever that may lead, like the spoiled pieces of meat they are. Bob Eubanks is spinning in his grave.

I didn’t watch much of Conveyor Belt of Love though. A man has his limits. Instead, I spent most of the hour flipping back and forth between Jersey Shore and Kardashians, two shows that I’m sure everyone is familiar with. I alternated between Snooki’s puss and Bruce’s hair. Pick your poison. It was an eye-opening experience for me. Last night was the first time I saw how unreal these reality shows are. The storylines of these characters flow to a perfect conclusion within the 30/60 minute structure of their show. Just like real life! And yes, they are characters. Jersey Shore has put to bed any delusions that reality show “participants” are real people. They’ll cash in, though. “Pauly D spinnin’ on them 1-2s!”

After last night, I cringe when I consider the implications programming like this has on our society. Shows like these are just more and more bullets to add to my “Why My Generation Ruined the World for You” list that I’m making for my future offspring. Of course, no matter how many bad things I can say about the shows I watched last night, the bottom line is this: I watched them. Shows like this will continue to blossom and flourish on the tube as long as channel surfing morons like myself can’t help but stop and watch the plane crashes that they are.

Until the day comes (if ever) when the television audience has a widespread epiphany and changes the channel, we’ll be fist pumping our way to civilization’s apocalypse.