The world has changed and -- as every grumpy old man rocking on a porch would tell you -- not for the better. See, there was a time when nailing a half-court shot meant something. It gave people something to believe in, kept their dreams afloat, fixed the economy, and fed all the hungry children. Not anymore.

The reporter in the video above is covering the story of a teacher who hit a blindfolded half-court shot. Yes, that's news. And in Gonzo style, the reporter thus inserts himself into the story by one-upping the teacher. But the best part of the video isn't that he destroys a back-to-the-basket half-court shot -- really, at this point, who cares? It's the look on his face. What is up, man?! It's part dumbfounded Double You Tee Eff, part shaman mysticism. Way more interesting than his shot or the teacher's.

So how did we reach this terrible day in which amazement no longer exists? Well, it all started with Mr. NBA Logo himself.

Thank you, Jerry West. That was amazing -- then. Now? Meh. I mean, this child pretty much clowns him.

But this is all in-game action. The really amazing shots (fake or not) happen without ticking clocks and lazy defenders. The guys at Dude Perfect have duped everyone into believing that everything they do is real. Sorry, there's no way every shot on this video is legit, but it's the Internet, so whatever.

Another alleged journalist even covered the Dude Perfect story because trick shots are so important! Silly verdict: all real. Right. Because journalism is so awesome now.

Then came legions of imitators -- some not half-bad, but all a little tiresome. Like this guy.

At this point, I am more impressed by these seals than I am by clowns on a court with a video camera and some editing software. And I am not even that impressed by these seals. BIG DEAL! You shot a ball with your whiskers. Who cares? Kill a shark and I will be impressed.

But LeBron James came along and wrecked Steve Kroft's whole concept of reality. And mine. I was impressed. How could anyone not be?

Until Jimmy Kimmel made LeBron look like a punk. Can we believe in nothing?

Well, I believed in this eighth-grader who drained a full-court, front-flip net-ripper and talked smack to LeBron.

Not even Kimmel or his manservant could take that away from us. And yet...the love is gone, isn't it?

Monta Ellis tried his best to restore some of the luster. Not bad at all. But it smells of desperation. It begs for attention like man rattling a cup of change. And it all sounds like too little, too late. I'm sorry, America. It's over.