Having already spanned two generations of viewers, MTV is only widening its demographic grapnel, not necessarily by scoring mammoth ratings (because, duh, they do), but by attracting a continually diverse array of viewers. Some might pledge loyalty to tracking the ongoing [non]saga of The Hills, while others might prefer to marvel at the tantrums thrown by one despicable, spoiled rotten princess after another on My Super Sweet Sixteen.

But it's the most impressionable members of the MTV audience -- adolescents and teenagers -- who have for years been submitted to arguably some of the most culturally irresponsible, intellectually insulting shows that continue to play in heavy rotation on the network. In fact, this family of shows, particularly Next, Date My Mom, and DisMissed, have one thing in common:

Kallissa Miller.

Arguing whether Kallissa Miller birthed "outrageous reality television" or vice versa is a moot point. By now, a Kallissa Production carries one unmistakable signature element that promises the executive producer's specific brand of reality game show: young people (and old) hungry to make jokes of themselves on national television.

And, apparently, the producers are more than happy to cooperate.

Initially, it's unfortunate that Miller's shows employ gawky dialogue spoon-fed to and perfected by contestants. Take Shawna, a contestant on Next who, upon being given the opportunity to sum up her entire existence in less than 15 seconds, chooses to boast that she's 21 and "likes to eat corn and cheese together, so [her competitors] had better get ready for some hot fart action."

Really, Shawna? "Hot fart action?" That's something you want to say out loud, no less to an audience of millions (which might very well include your grandfather, first grade teacher, and general practitioner)?

So be it, says Miller, whose programs, it should be noted, have garnered huge daytime ratings for MTV over the past several years. Kallissa Miller doesn't make people stupid, but her cultural contributions certainly haven't helped anybody score a Nobel Prize.

In the universe in which Next, DisMissed, and Date My Mom exist, you don't need to be Mother Superior to recognize the moral void that encompasses the execution of a show. In fact, you don't necessarily need to see these shows to understand why a Kallissa Miller production could potentially prove toxic to the self-esteem of a 13-year-old girl or the respect held toward women by a 15-year-old boy. What good could possibly come from shows like these?

• On Next, contestants collect a dollar for every minute they spend trying to woo a potential suitor who, conversely, has the option to swiftly "next" them, sending them back into the charter bus (why?) where the contestants -- who've just met -- sit in a row, mill around, and pretend to either bond or chide one another.

• DisMissed pits two contestants against each other in the conquest for the "heart" of one "date" (read: the "genitals" of one "stranger"). Following a fight to the better end, in which boys and girls skank out for airtime, lob insults at one another, and inevitably skank out again, one of the contestants is, predictably, dismissed. This leaves the winner with the opportunity to contract from the date whatever diseases haven't yet been passed between each party. Yay love!

• Date My Mom -- by far the most ridiculous of the trio -- is an amalgamation of everything that shouldn't happen, ever: mothers dating their daughter's prospective suitor in an attempt to convince the guy to pick her kin, resulting in incessant usage of inane sexual euphemisms and double entendres between ladies and maybe-future-son-in-laws. The final shot of every episode shows the winning daughter running down the beach, hand in hand with both her mother and date (until the mother lets go -- aw, symbolism!).

The way in which Miller's shows contextualize the meaning of flirting, dating, and sex is so manipulated and overproduced that it might as well air on The SciFi Channel. When consuming media (and shows like Miller's, in particular), junior high students won't necessarily do so with a carefully critical approach that helps them separate fact from fiction, probably because they're momentarily concerned with learning about themselves. Kids who fill their afternoons digesting episode after episode of shows that blur the line between romance and "hooking up" will likely walk away with, at the very least, a certain set of values that may prove unhealthy in the otherwise natural process of figuring out what it means to actually like somebody.

And for that you can blame both MTV and Kallissa Miller, who - according to her company's website - is a "multifaceted, multitalented" producer who has proudly created "fantastic" programming.

I want my MTV ... without Kallissa Miller.