Over the weekend, pro wrestling legend Jake “The Snake” Roberts had a horrible, horrible meltdown in front of a crowd of fans during a wrestling event in Lakewood, Ohio.  The 53-year-old Roberts, who has had a pretty well-documented history of addiction and abuse (as indicated in the documentary “Beyond the Mat”), was clearly drunk or on drugs — possible both — and clearly should not have been performing.

When I heard the news, I decided I had to see it for myself.  And after watching the video (courtesy of TMZ –- who else), I really wished I hadn’t.  There was nothing funny, nothing entertaining about it.  Actually, it was way-worse than I imagined it would be.  And truthfully, the whole thing was just, I don’t know … sad.  (You can watch the video here, but all I can say is that you’ve been warned.)

Seeing this guy like that made me sick to my stomach.  It doesn’t matter if the dude is a celebrity (or was one); that part is irrelevant.  I don’t feel any of that “you had it all and now you blew it, haha” contempt for him.  It was just a person — obviously sick, obviously in need of help, obviously a mess.  And here was the footage, for all the world to see.

But the point isn’t Jake “The Snake” Roberts or his implosion.  The point is that there will undoubtedly be another one of these meltdown videos soon enough — and another, then another, and another…  And I can GUARANTEE you that TMZ (or whoever) will be there to show it, in all its nauseating glory.

It’s no secret that the tabloid industry takes in billions of dollars each year, packaging gossip and tragedy and repulsion into glossy magazines and quick-take television shows.  But I can’t help but ask myself: why is this?  Is it a product of our demand?  Or is it a force-fed diet of shock that we’ve become dependant on?

I blame TMZ.  Yeah, the rest of the tabloids are essentially trash, but for some reason TMZ rubs me in the worst way.  Maybe it’s the snarky 20-somethings that set-up and present each clip on the show (man, I never wanted to punch me some Californians more than I want to punch those guys); or maybe it’s their army of no-holds-barred, guerilla-style paparazzi that stalk and poke and prod celebs to the point of breaking.  Bottom line: these people are vultures.   Vultures.

I really can’t say for sure that we, as humans, really WANT to see all these train-wrecks.  Maybe we do.  But I suspect that if they weren’t there — if the line at every grocery store wasn’t chocked-full of Us Weekly’s and InTouch and Star Magazines, if E! didn’t spend 23 and a half hours (thank GOD for “The Soup”) a day devoted to celebrity gossip and exploitation — we probably wouldn’t miss it.  I think we’d be just fine without it.  Or at least, I’d like to believe that.

But maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe we need it to make ourselves feel better.  Maybe seeing a sloshed David Hasselhoff sprawled-out on the floor, smashing a cheeseburger into his face makes us feel optimistic about ourselves.  ‘Hey, at least my life isn’t THAT terrible.  Look at THAT guy!  It’s Mitch from “Baywatch” — he’s hammered!’  Maybe we thrive on that sort of tragedy.

The point is that it’s out there — and it’s pretty damn hard to escape.  We’ve all seen the rise and demise of Britney, the countless crack-smoking escapades of Amy Winehouse.  These things have permeated our culture to the point of being part of the status-quo.  And it baffles me.  Why do we feed on tragedy?

Case in point: Anna Nicole Smith.  How quickly we forget.  Oh boy, wasn’t it just SOOOO funny to see her slur sentences and go on incoherent rants and act like a fall-down drunk … but then it was SOOOO sad to see her overdose and die in a hotel somewhere.  Oh, we should have just left her alone … oh, the media killed her, etc, etc…

Make up your minds people.  Do you want tragedy or not?  Better answer quickly — TMZ is waiting.

Read Ray Barry’s blog, True Stories at Stanleyavenue.blogspot.com. Ray Barry can be reached at truestories42@gmail.com.