"Definitely Ali for the next Bachelorette. That's why they rigged that whole "she has to choose between Jake and her job!" episode - they told her, 'Hey, if you do this and walk away from Jake, you're the next Bachelorette.' I am convinced."
Falling in love. What a bunch of horseshit.
With each passing day, it's getting harder and harder to be funny about this. The reason is that there are no more big, goofy games to play. The playing field gets smaller and smaller, the feelings are supposed to get more and more "intense," and because of this, the creepiness goes up and up and up.
And why is it creepy? Because this show is a construction. It is not real. Those are not real words or deeds we see on screen. Those are not real feelings we see expressed. Everything has been shaped by the show's production team.
So what conclusions does ABC want us to draw about love, sex, gender, and marriage? Love is values. Love is God. Love is chastity. Love is respect. Love is commitment. Love is monogamy.
But wait! What's this? A note from Chris Harrison: "Dear Jake and [insert bimbo's name here]: Welcome to the beautiful island of St. Lucia. I hope that you are enjoying your stay. Should you decide to forgo your separate rooms tonight, here is a key to our Fantasy Suite." He even had it typed so he wouldn't have to re-write it every time.
So that's it. "We must stay chaste, but if you don't fuck me tonight, I'm sending you home." Ah, but ABC gets to have its cake and eat it, too! Because they're only spending the night together! No berry bushes are gonna get pollinated! How can you possibly think that, you perverted liberals? (Wink wink, nudge nudge).
But that's not all! Tenley...dear, sweet, innocent, bruised, Jesus-loving, mild-Asperger's Tenley. All she wants is for Pavelka to conrol her: "You can lead me in life...that's what I want." For those 14-year-olds out there: never forget that your self-worth is only defined by a man.
And the audacity, the audacity, for Jake to actually follow the script and say that he's "falling in love with each and every woman here." And he treats them like they're the only ones. But he gets to make out and frolick and fuck the other two. You participate in this. You let this happen. You bought in.
I fear for Jake's legs now that Gia is gone. (I'mma totally hit that girl up next time i'm in NYC.)
Somewhere, Althusser is kickin' his feet up, pouring himself a brandy, lighting up his pipe, and laughing his ass off. "See? Told ya so."