Hypable columnist Lyle Brandon dissects this generation’s need for fame and celebrity.

Two weeks ago, I made the bold decision to move out to Los Angeles. I had seen enough of the east coast, and needed a change. As a film and television junkie, I decided Hollywood was where I needed to be.

In my first week, I made sure to hit a variety of hot spots. Yes, many of them were places I had seen on TMZ, but still, I wanted to see them in person. Places like Chateau Marmont and Katsuya were atop my list of places to go. Each outing was filled with me watching celebrities from afar. I use the term celebrity loosely, but in total, I met a Real Housewife of New York City, R&B singer Ciara, X-Men: First Class (and Hannah Montana the Movie) star Lucas Till, Pretty Little Liars‘ Ashley Benson, and Thomas Lennon. If you don’t know the last one by name, google him, you will recognize him instantly from a variety of films and television shows.

With each of these meetings, I realized a few things. First of all, celebrities really are just people. For some reason, in my head, I had made them much larger than life.  In reality, most of them, excluding Ciara, were much smaller physically than I had anticipated. But mostly, I was shocked by how normal they all seemed. I had met famous people before, my favorite being Lindsay Lohan, but for some reason, I still shared the same view on movie stars as one Rachel Berry.

Why do we, as a culture, value fame over almost everything else? I can understand respecting talent, which I clearly do, but why is it that people, like a Real Housewife, are idolized simply for being on a show? I tried really analyzing it, and here’s what I came up with.

Being famous, essentially, is a popularity contest. People want to be liked. Obviously, at its core, a completely superfluous need, but either way, understandable. Who wants to be hated? Look at kids in high school. They’ll endure pretty awful experiences just to surround themselves with “the cool kids.” Is it the same with celebrity? Do people simply want to be close to them because they think by proximity it makes them more likable?

In today’s culture, almost anyone can become a star. Reality television has made it more than possible for someone of no measurable talent or intelligence to become a mega-celebrity, raking in millions upon millions of dollars per year. Look at the cast of Jersey Shore. Last year, The Situation made over five million dollars. You read that correctly. Five MILLION dollars. While I’m sure Snookie made double, even triple that amount, I’m almost more comfortable with her being so popular. Almost. At least Snookie can be endearing. Sure, she shares the same IQ with a lab rat, indulges in a ridiculous amount of self–tanner, and might represent our nation’s impending doom, but at least she’s fun to watch. She’s the guilty pleasure of a generation. The Situation represents everything wrong with reality TV. He’s cruel, mentally unstable, and has a very distorted view upon himself. Did anybody happen to catch his monologue at The Comedy Central Roast of Donald Trump? It was literally so torturous, that it felt like you were watching someone get waterboarded.

In the past decade, it feels like every year there’s a different reality show that introduces the general public to a new slew of trashy, flamboyant, and preposterous characters. With each new show, a different level of crazy is made into the new normal for television. Back in 2003, The Simple Life, starring Paris Hilton and a then-unknown Nicole Richie, blew up on the scene. Watching a pair of overly privileged girls run around rural Arkansas in Gucci mini-skirts and 6-inch Louboutin’s made for addicting television. This show made both Hilton and Richie into mega-stars. I mean, for a while, it felt like you couldn’t open a magazine, turn on a TV station, or go online without seeing Paris Hilton spreading her legs as she got out of her Barbie-pink Rolls Royce.

But now look at what The Simple Life started. Obviously, the show ended a while ago, but without it, there would be no Kardashians. Those damn Kardashians are now the ones who seem to be everywhere. The head of the clan, Kris Jenner, has really squeezed the most out of what was sure to be only 15 minutes of fame. Now, the family has signed onto the biggest deal in reality television history, making 40 million dollars for three seasons. That’s not even including all of their branding, which at this point is an empire with perfumes, diet pills, clothing lines, and much more.

Look at all of the Housewives shows. Bravo’s Andy Cohen has, like Kris Jenner, created quite the empire. What started years ago with The Real Housewives of Orange County, has now grown into an entire franchise, with a multitude of nipped and tucked, wealthy mothers, each representing a different city. There’s Atlanta, Beverly Hills, New Jersey, New York City, Washington, DC, and Miami. Of course, different networks have tried to capitalize on the success of the Housewives shows by creating similar programming. Vh1 created Mob Wives, which is as horrifying as it is addicting. They’ve even decided to copy the format so much, that they just launched a second edition of the show, entitled Mob Wives: Chicago. Just like The Simple Life was for the Kardashians, The Real Housewives was to Mob Wives.

Overall, I’ve only decided one thing for sure. Never again will I be star struck. They’re simply people. Yes, maybe they’ve achieved a great deal of notoriety, but when it comes down to it, celebrities are just like you and me. As a culture, maybe we shouldn’t respect fame, but more so, talent, brains, and courage.