The new new new guy, Chris Harrison, is also the host of The Bachelor, and he'd make a real good spy, because every time I see him, I instantly forget who he is. They might as well retitle his one season Who Wants To Be An Unmarked Tub Of Plain Yogurt.

Disney-ABC Domestic Television
Christ, can't Watson learn to ask questions already?

You know what the show's major innovation is under Harrison? Doing what Regis did. See, for the past few years, Millionaire attempted to innovate (and dance around an intellectual property lawsuit successfully filed by a former producer) with a preliminary round of 10 questions, each with mystery dollar amounts attached. It revived the show about as much as blowing an air horn at a heart-attack victim. And had the show not reverted back to the old format, it probably would've been exactly as dead.

But channeling the old Regis format might actually justify the show's existence again. It simply needs one more ingredient: Regis. Remember, hosts make these shows, and Regis fucking made it. Thrice over, in fact, because Millionaire has returned to prime time twice since 2004. Both times, Regis was the host, and both times people actually tuned in to watch. But take him out of the mix, and it's like removing flour from a cake recipe: You just end up with a bowl full of sweetened scrambled eggs.

The show certainly served its purpose back in the Bob Saget days. Even during the Daisy Fuentes era, keeping the show was understandable. Where else could you watch amateur footage of people making utter asses of themselves? Yes, they awarded money to the absolute unfunniest video 90 percent of the time, but the journey was hilarious enough to endure the anticlimax.

Would've been funnier if the horse shat on him, or at least squashed his skull in.

But Fuentes and her co-host, John "Probably His Mom Recognizes Him Maybe?" Fugelsang couldn't keep the show afloat, and the series went bye-bye in 1999. That's what happens when you lose a guy good enough at his job to be a squeaky-clean, single dad one day, suck dick for coke the next, and be totally believable both times. Two years later, however, ABC revived the show under Tom Bergeron and, despite being no Saget, he was at least acceptable. Besides, there still wasn't another way to delight in endless arrays of abject stupidity except to people-watch at Walmart, so Videos deserved to live.

But now? Forget it. We have YouTube, and we've had it for over a decade. That should've been it. The second people started uploading their stupid videos for anyone to watch anytime, no longer subject to the arbitrary whims of anonymous producers who swear to this day that kids + boogers = funny, Bergeron should've joined Dave Coulier in the pantheon of people who used to host terrible clip shows and really, really wish they still were.

ABC Productions
Hell isn't other people; it's that backdrop.

For whatever reason, this didn't happen, and Bergeron continued hosting Videos nonstop, longer even than Saget did. This, despite most of what made it on the air being way less funny than what you find blind-clicking random links in a drunken haze at 3 in the morning. Now that Ribeiro's hosting, I can safely say that ... not a damn thing has changed. How could it? The show's entire premise is outdated beyond repair. ABC can make the set as bright and colorful as they please, they could give in and pay Saget the gross national product of Earth to come back, and it just wouldn't matter. They're asking us to drive 200 miles to the nearest McDonald's, instead of having our personal chef cook up steak on the spot whenever our pantsless selves demand it.

The closest thing each season has to a unique gimmick is how they divide the tribes. Not that it ever matters. Usually, it's something so simple as "instead of EIGHT people per tribe, now there's TEN." Other times they'll do guys vs. girls, because starvation and dehydration is one thing, but Heaven forbid anyone catch the cooties. With the current season, they're just throwing up their hands and bringing back old contestants whom we voted to bring back. It's the most blatant possible way to say "We're out of ideas" without actually saying it.

CBS
It also implies that somebody was turned on by this enough to chance it happening again.

Survivor's absolute nadir? That time they divided everybody by race: a tribe of white people, one of African-Americans, one of Hispanics, and one of Asians. What skin color can best digest undercooked fish, the show asks, because inquiring minds stuck in 1952 want to know. That season was in 2006. Nine years later, can Satan please collect on that contract he and Jeff Probst drew up?

Last Call reflects its host perfectly. You know how most of these shows have jokes and bits? It took Daly three years to write any. Before then, there was no monologue, no house band, no skits, no nothing. In its place was nothing but interviews, aka the single dullest part of any show. Celebrity interviews work only when they quit shilling and just play beer pong or a silly game show or whatever, and oh boy does Daly not do the shit out of that. They just talk, really. He tried leaving the studio and talking to people on the road for a while, but that went nowhere as hell. It was still a bunch of interviews, and it was still the TRL guy doing them.

NBCUniversal Television Distribution
They made him leave before opening the bar up to people who wanted to have fun.

The show almost received a mercy kill in 2010, during the Conan-Leno kerfuffle. Had Conan agreed to move his Tonight Show to a later time to make room for Leno's new show, Last Call would've been toast. Apparently, this was because NBC didn't want to move Poker After Dark, which typically followed Daly. This is how unimportant Carson Daly is: His bosses had to choose between him and doughy, expressionless people staring at cards, and they sided with the cards. Only Conan selflessly taking $32 million to go elsewhere spared Carson from the indignity of seven fewer people watching him every night.

NBCUniversal Television Distribution
A year later, we learned the real secret to Carson's survival: not being funded by a blatant Ponzi scheme.

But you know who cares the least about Last Call With Carson Daly? Carson Daly. He currently appears for the show's opening and closing segments and ... that's it! He has producers and stagehands handle the interviews and film the bands, while he just sits back and technically honors his contract. And while I appreciate the idea of Carson Daly attempting to improve the show by not being on it, it's simply too little, too late. More (legal this time) poker, please!

Down to the shit-filled bottom of the rabbit hole we head. Because while the other shows at least tried to shake things up sometimes, Jerry Springer has spent the past 25 years steadfastly doing not even a little bit of that. Hope the Mad Hatter enjoys human turds in his tea, because that's all he's getting from now on.

It's absolutely baffling that, in 2015, I can watch all-new episodes of Springer. For one thing, we've known it's fake for years now. They manufacture the drama, they script the fights, they coach the guests on how to hit -- they even had a "fight quota" for a while, like the show wasn't a success unless they had at least X number of fights. Jerry goes on WWE TV simply to feel something real.

World Wrestling Entertainment
Note: That something isn't better acting.

And, actually, fuck "all-new," because it's not new. Today's Springer is the exact same shit that made the show so famous in the edgy-as-fuck '90s. In 1998, I could watch a grown-ass man swear up a righteous storm because his girl turned out to have a penis AND THAT SHIT AIN'T RIGHT JERRY. Or a girlfriend OH NO YOU DI'INTs and slapfights from start to close because her boyfriend's sidepiecing with a trans girl. AND THAT SHIT AIN'T RIGHT JERRY.

Guess what I found over and over again when searching for 2015 Springer episodes? "Played By A Transsexual." "Secret Transsexual Mistresses." "You Got Me A Tranny Stripper!" Same goes for dwarves, fat people, dark-skinned people, and anyone else who doesn't look like Jerry and thus automatically becomes the punchline. And people watch this shit! Not many, but some. Because for them, it's still 1998 and that shit is HILARIOUS. Also, Limp Bizkit still rocks, Howard Stern still rules radio, Marilyn Manson is still evil and scary, and every day is NOT getting shorter and I'm NOT getting older and NOTHING'S CHANGED and society is NOT passing me by and I'm NOT going to die PLEASE TELL ME I'M NOT GOING TO DIE DYIN' AIN'T RIGHT JERRY.

NBCUniversal Television Distribution
They think they've found the Fountain of Youth, but it's really just a puddle of polluted piss.

And that right there is why Springer's survival is more ridiculous than any other show (except maybe Maury -- we get it, men don't like babies). Nobody gives a fuck anymore. The conservatives and religious types who once condemned it for harbinging the End Times don't care, because nothing happened. Rome didn't fall because of strippers and catfighting, much like how it didn't fall because of Eminem, Elvis, Alice Cooper, Larry Flynt, or even Miley Cyrus. Kings and queens of controversy have mighty short reigns.

As for the show's underlying message ("people who don't look like me sure are crazy!"), nobody cares about that anymore, either. Nobody who matters, anyway. Because we're evolving, in case you haven't noticed. The people who watch "Secret Transsexual Mistresses" and side with the guy who got bamboozled by the Secret Penis Of Doom are getting old, dying, or simply fading into obscurity. They might emerge every now and again to rail against "PC culture," but they aren't funny or interesting enough to matter. They're just kind of ... there. Just like Jerry.

NBCUniversal Television Distribution
There's a very good reason the two white dudes look they're in mourning.

So let's officially ax this fake, outdated, unfunny waste of camera and replace it with something more worthwhile. Like reruns of Regis' Millionaire. You know, good, old-fashioned, wholesome '90s.

Jason isn't a world-famous gagillionaire yet AND THAT SHIT AIN'T RIGHT JERRY. Pay him in Facebook and Twitter friendship until this happens.

It's amazing what some TV shows will do to stay on the air. Check out the Baywatch spinoff that transformed into a version of The X-Files in 6 TV Shows That Completely Lost Their Shit, and see the lost episode that almost took Breaking Bad in an entirely different direction in 5 Scrapped Episodes That Almost Ruined Famous TV Shows.

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