Like life, ABC's The Bachelor consists of interminable lows suffered for fleeting and forgettable highs. And while I think this year's Paris edition is better than recent seasons, the ratio of suffering to joy is still far from balanced. That said, last night I watched the show's The Women Tell All episode, and it was dizzying. I enjoyed it so much, in fact, that I've come to believe I endured the rest of the season solely to prepare me for it, much like the crucifixion of Jesus prepared him to be the King of the Clouds.

It's difficult to argue with the recipe. Take a dozen or so mostly attractive women from around the country, each of whom is probably used to being the cutest sister in the sorority. Now put them into a house with an attractive, successful man. Have that man to treat each of them in a way he never actually would were he not compelled by a producer. Have him shower them with luxuries like carriage rides, keep them guzzling champagne, and make it clear to them without actually saying it that the timing of their blowjobs is critical. Too soon and they'll be discarded like so many before, too late and they'll risk losing cockshare to more willing competitors. Then, after they've been judged not pretty enough very publicly, put them in a room and ask them to assign blame.

The rest takes care of itself.

One of the topics of conversation on the episode was a bachelorette named Allie G. She was remarkable in two ways. The first is that, in her first meeting with the Bachelor, she said that he shouldn't pick her if he wasn't interested in having children soon. The second is that, after he followed her advice and didn't choose her, she angrily confronted him, demanding to know why she hadn't been chosen, calling him a fraud or some such thing, and going generally haywire.

To a some men, the first thing she did could be seen as admirable. They might say that it's rare and wonderful to find a woman who tells you exactly what she wants. But I am not some men. Because I know women to be inconstant and unworthy of trust, I knew her gambit could not be believed. Unfortunately, the Bachelor was not as wise as me. Taking her comments at face value and responding with honesty only won him abuse. The smarter move would have been to play along by offering to put those children in her belly for her, and then, when she's in the unsuspecting haze of post-inseminatory bliss, to slap her around for a while. That, ladies and gentlemen, is romance.

But I digress and should not, for I have an important point to make. In the past, the series' producers have chosen a losing competitor to serve as the Bachelor or Bachelorette on a subsequent season. It occurred to me while watching that Allie G. would be an excellent choice to fill this role. There are very few things I can think of that would be more entertaining than watching the competitive spirit and optimism of handsome young wannabe actors dissolve into a kind of concentration camp desperation.


Allie G., above, could be a star.

Analogcabin @ 11:08 AM
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