Layton: An Open Letter to “The Real World”

Dear MTV’s “The Real World,”

I think we need to have a little chat. No, please, no… Dear MTV’s “The Real World,”

I think we need to have a little chat. No, please, no tequila, and put the camera down. This is beyond the Confessional.

As of Wednesday night, yet another season of your eponymous reality show ended, and once again, the mass youth consumers of trashy television must go without their fix until spring when the next season premieres.

I mean, I am in a personal frenzy. What will I do without my weekly dose of self-deprecating 20-somethings sacrificing their dignity and livers all in the name of steady ratings and 14-and-a-half minutes of fame? Nevermind that the show has devolved from a poignant examination of hot button topics like homosexuality, racism, religion and AIDS into a show with only the most miniscule traces of social relevance — I prefer

my guilty pleasures as guilty as possible.

But see, the thing is, “Real World,” you aren’t even a guilty pleasure anymore. Over the past few (four? five?) seasons, you have committed the sin of the reality show universe — you’ve become downright boring.

That’s why I think you should seriously consider putting me in the house of seven — scratch that, eight — strangers to wreak havoc and create some truly awesome television.

Seriously, I believe I possess many of the requisite traits you look for in a cast member. Family history full of painful memories? Check. Alternative outlook on life and a party-minded mentality? Yep. A personality that just begs to simultaneously attract and drive my fellow roommates crazy? Definitely. A full willingness to exploit myself for the amusement of millions of viewers? For sure.

Isn’t this what you’re looking for, “Real World?” I could certainly give even the craziest characters in your past a run for their money. Trishelle from “Las Vegas,” eat your heart out. Tyler from “Key West,” watch your back.

You know what, “Real World,” I understand your skepticism — I also know your reputation for disappointing your biggest fans. So even if it’s not me, why not pick one of my many friends, or perhaps any random Pitt student?

I know for a fact we would be more interesting than any of the recent specimens of the college microcosm you have displayed in the past few years.

The shenanigans that my friends and I get into on a Friday night are twice as entertaining as anything from “The Real World: Cancun.” Penn

State student Bronne throwing a fire extinguisher off the balcony of a hotel? Please, I have witnessed actual people getting thrown off of balconies. And if you’re looking for the b*tch of the group, I know plenty of them, too (myself included).

But then again, I suppose you’re already trying your absolute hardest to find the perfectly dysfunctional cross-section of American college students, which must mean the fault for the lack of interest in recent seasons of your show lies in the hands of me and my peers.

Back when I was in high school — or even, GASP, middle school — seasons of “The Real World” enthralled me with their unabashed displays of debauchery and the promise of similar times when I reached the then-elusive mecca of freedom that is college.

Now, however, all of the supposedly wild antics merely remind me of how much crazier my college life is than you, and also how much more intellectually stimulating a conversation at Starbucks can be compared to some of the “real” topics the cast members discuss on your show.

Is this a symptom of growing up? Probably — my younger sister and her high school friends still eat the show up on a weekly basis. The novelty of you dissipated long ago — I have met some of your former victims/cast members and know others loosely through mutual friends, and the reality of their normalcy seriously diminishes the attraction.

So, “Real World,” I guess there’s really nothing left to be said. We have just drifted, like many of my television relationships, and I hate to say it, but you have some serious growing up to do.

Or maybe you need to ramp up the immaturity some more. There’s no such thing as an overload of trashiness in a tacky reality show.

Either way, I think it’s time we take some time apart. I’ll look for you next season — the blogosphere says the “Washington D.C.” cast looks promising.

Until then,

Kieran Layton

P.S. I was only half-kidding about being on the show. You’ve never had a “Kieran” on the show before. Call me!