Knox McCoy has the coolest name in the history of blogging. He’s laugh out loud funny, this generations the Fonze, and a big fan of the Bacherlorette. That brings a huge dilemma to me. I hate the Bachelorette and make fun of guys that watch it. That might change after this guest post. Enjoy…
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The Moral Turpitude of Watching The Bachelorette

In an existential panic recently, Rob contacted me about a conflict so deeply embedded in his soul that it was interrupting his circadian rhythm. Naturally, I was alarmed for him. But it got me thinking: Rob probably isn’t the only human grappling with the conflict he spoke to me about. In fact, it may be something many of you are experiencing. I’m here for you.

Today, let me be your Oprah. No. Let me be your Dr. Phil. NAY! Let me be a conglomeration of the two: Dr. Phil Winfrey or Dr. OpraPhilfrey. Try that one on. Goes down smooth doesn’t it? I think I like that one the best. You know what? I’m rambling. I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter what we call me. Just let me help.

There’s a little show on television right now called The Bachelorette. Maybe you’ve heard of it? I got swept up in it a few years ago and now I spend my Monday nights writing 6,000+ word recaps about the show. Did you read that? That number isn’t an exaggeration. See for yourself here. So naturally, when Rob contacted me in a moral quandary about watching the show, I understood his plight. So let me try to properly contextualize the show for you and see if that might answer some of the fundamental issues plaguing you.

Essentially, The Bachelor/Bachelorette is like if the Song of Solomon was put into the form of a reality TV show. Except the exact opposite. It’s an absolute dumpster fire of a premise and the entire show is conducted with the smarminess of a Grey Poupon commercial.

In over 20 iterations of the premise, the show has led to a total of 3 marriages, 232,456 covers of US Weekly, and a derivative show called The Bachelor Pad that is so insanely moronic that even the Sunnis and the Shiites pause their feuding to briefly unite in the wake of it’s stupidity. So they’re like 3 for 24 in terms of matchmaking and though I’m not a mathematician, my powers of deduction tell me that it’s a less than awesome success to failure ratio.

So the question becomes, what is the allure of a show that in no way acts as a conduit of love and is a veritable Ellis Island for fame-mongers? Why do I spill all that vitriol towards the show but yet still devote myself wholly to it on Monday nights like Kermit to Ms. Piggy?

Easy. Because the show is completely unaware and oblivious to itself. It is our generation’s version of Mystery Science Theater and if you aren’t watching it, you are missing 120 minutes where you can guiltlessly rip on the contestants for bizarre and intellectually-challenged behavior. Every episode is a cornucopia of idiocy, hyperbole, and grandiose cliches about love. And you know what? It’s fantastic.

For me, the lure of the show is that it’s so stupid, it’s funny. It’s like a joke where everyone knows the punchline but yet the joke-tellers ALL firmly believe that it’s the first time the joke has ever been told. Every season, gallons of tears are cried and teeth are gnashed all under the notion that true love can be acquired through something like 36 total minutes of alone time throughout the course of the show. But the thing is, the participants all TRULY believe that they are treading the same ground where history’s great romantics have trod before. But it’s less Romeo and Juliet and more Britney and KFed.

So if you are feeling that tug on your soul to watch the show but your better judgment tells you to steer clear, just give in. Allow yourself to fall in love with watching ignorant, but attractive, people grasping at the concept of love like two obese hillbillies fighting over pork rinds. You won’t regret it and that’s a guarantee straight from Dr. OpraPhilfrey. I know, right?