I’ve been rewatching old seasons of The Real World and the new spin-off seasons where they reunite the cast to re-argue old conflicts in the same house they lived in decades ago. The combination is a heady mix of nostalgia and horror. Flashback: I’m fourteen and pacing around my childhood home. Everyone is asleep and I’m watching Ruthie black out on The Real World: Hawaii, nervous about transferring to public school, listening to the locusts buzz. Today: I’m thirty-five and pacing around my house in LA. Some fifty year old is getting his ribs broken in gladiator combat on The Challenge. Fame is a trap. All these TikTok kids are fucked.
