Rainsong

Confession time: 1) This was the first time I'd given in to temptation and checked a spoiler. 2) Unfortunately, the spoiler was from Reality Steve. 3) Unfortunately, this was the 2nd time in history (according to him) that Reality Steve's spoiler was wrong and he changed it just before the finale with a flurry of excuses and self-justification. 4) Unfortunately, I only read the original spoiler. I told myself that it wouldn't affect my interest in the season or the forum but, admittedly, it did. 5) I watched my DVR copy of the finale fully expecting a Joey/Daisy proposal/pairing. In an odd way, I suppose I created my own mini-season of blissful ignorance. 6) Despite the obvious, frequent and weighty evidence that Daisy was on her way out including statements and insight from Daisy herself, I convinced myself that it was the usual surfeit of red herrings. Despite Daisy having the dreaded opening slot at the finale I even convinced myself that Joey was going to have a most dramatic ever change of heart and that all the sturm and drang in his shirtsleeves (as previewed in the first episode) with crew & cameras visible were an indication that he was going to 'flip' at the last moment. 7) RS' claim - or excuse - was that having the finalists travel in the same vehicle led to his flawed spoiler. A plausible theory but it prompts questions and speculation about his sources and how they came/come by their information. He claims not to obtain knowledge from insiders ie crew but that may be a smokescreen to protect them. On the other hand, consider this scenario: a) RS determines where the finale will be held, specifically where the cast members are staying. b) RS contacts the property or uses other means to determine the dates and duration of the stay, already knowing a general timeframe. c) With a bit of modest financial persuasion, RS gets one or more sources among the resort staff who inform him of comings and goings and, crucially, the timing and movements of the finalists ie who goes first and who goes second (assuming this corresponds to the order of their arrival on the beach). This eliminates any need for sources among the crew, allows RS to truthfully say he doesn't rely on spoilers from the crew and allows for anonymity/secrecy from resort staff who are hiding in plain sight as they go about their jobs. d) Since the finalists left at (roughly) the same time the sources were either unable to identify the winner or guessed or simply got it wrong and passed on the erroneous information. Good luck for ABC and bad luck for RS or have the producers finally devised an effective means of counterespionage? To be fair, RS corrected it later but that may have been because he checked with other sources as airtime approached and he discovered he was wrong. 8) At any rate, I watched the finale with a fool’s confidence. I was like a rube who finds a counterfeit $100 bill in a Vegas casino and bets it on one hand at the tables. I have no chance of winning AND I will end up in worse shape either way when they examine the currency. As for the outcome, I reckon Joey was a bit of a coward and took the safer option. From my admittedly limited viewing of the season (the first few episodes and the finale) I detected a great deal more chemistry with Daisy especially in close quarters. Kelsey was unexciting…a compromise of sorts in several areas. I’m not suggesting Daisy’s (past) health problems and (present) hearing issues were the deciding factor but I’m not categorically ruling them out as part and parcel of his thought process either.

There are cold opens and then there are frigid ones. Joey’s already getting shouted at like an ornery 10 year old who didn’t take out the garbage. The sound of strings. Then a smash. Is it Joey playing tennis? Yes. But before that, the sound of strings then a smash. In this case it’s the ‘danger orchestra’ musical cue that is worn threadbare on the show followed by Sister Lauren wearing her leather couch dress smashing a cake in a fit of pique. The Bachelor occasionally has some practical use. How? It tells us what the current trend in jeans is – because all the Bachelorettes wear mostly the same shade (faded is back) in the same silhouette (baggy cuffs) except for a couple of daring wearers of cutoffs. Whereas early iterations of The Bachelor aspired to James Bondian glamour and slow-burn lust that was palpable, more recent seasons have the feel of a geeky day camp attended by overgrown teens. No need for group dates abroad, the women are already jumping on beds. Two of them are on the top bunk, in this case, which must have given the elf-n-safety people the fantods. Those must be some high ceilings too. In a move that should be applauded, booze is being served early in the day. More mimosa, less breakfast mango we say. Maybe it will produce late-night-style drama at high noon. Jess is allegedly from San Diego but sounds more Big Sandy as in the river Appalachia. For the generations that missed Howdy Doody on TV, you’re seeing how characters with frozen cheeks talk in the form of Lauren & Allison. Howdy Doody was a wooden puppet so at least he had an excuse. The sisters, full of God knows what as filler, do not. Lea is relating her steal-a-date-card story and displaying these oddball nonpareil-looking encrusted nails. It’s a tacky extension (pun intended) of the fake talon and over-the-top manicure trend. Nail art isn’t really art, ladies. First-day mania has turned into group date mania has turned into try-on-a-wedding-dress mania. Lauren seems hyper-aware of where the cameras are at any given moment. Are they really tipping the racks over in their zeal? The ‘brides’ are getting emotional with the help of more midday champers. Someone remind them it isn’t a real wedding, not least because there are 9 of them. Joey tells them to imagine they’re already married and it’s a group wedding night reception. Sounds a bit like a DVD in the back room of a video store with a similar theme. ‘Let’s get some champagne!’ – someone has a one-track mind. Daytime, outdoor, sober dancing is a cringe trifecta. For reasons unknown and from sources unknown there are wedding guests. For even more reasons unknown they’re playing 6 year old kids’ party games although year old kids have have enough dignity not to do the Fosbury Flop over a table. Oh no – someone keep Lauren away from the cakes. They’re either going to hit the flagstones or fly through the air. Possibly both. Things may go from Modern Bride to Marx Brothers quicksmart. Those of us grinding out the music gigs locally may take some admittedly cruel satisfaction in seeing Grammy award winners doing fake wedding receptions. How do you reckon the phone call went between Michael Bolton and his booking agent? Apparently the deal didn’t include a backing band, merely a backing track, resulting in a form of celebrity karaoke. Jesse Palmer is summoning all his powers of quarterback concentration as he announces the special guest without breaking into laughter. Rachel is cackling with victorious delight at getting a dance and a kiss. Jess declares she was keeping her eyes RAAAT OVER HERE! Uh-oh. Is Joey recycling Zach’s earth-tone wardrobe? More sport coats and sweaters? Is this 1974 or 2024? Is Joey looking for a wife or solving a murder case? Maria is still wearing white - in this case a little cocktail number and it seems US Customs may have seized all her bras as contraband. ‘Maria just has something about her that gets me excited,’ says Joey. Theory: maybe the something is the cleavage. The slim Maria claims her corset is cutting off her oxygen. How much skimpier can the outfit get? We soon find out it’s a black lace number. Well, at least there’s a bra involved now. The wardrobe change probably wasn’t necessary but it sealed the deal. It certainly set the cat amongst the pigeons in the waiting area. Jess is playing the Trust Issues[TM] card. Infidelity. Oh dear. ‘On his part?’ asks Inspector Joey. No, on her part, you numpty. In other musical news, Lauren’s alto range is quickly becoming a baritone – much lower than tenor Joey. If we didn’t know better we might think Lauren has had a Marlboro or two in her life (even if she is a nurse). Against some long odds and short skirts, Jess gets a group date rose. Back at the ranch, Daisy with the cochlear implant is having trouble hearing the date card’s contents while the others scream. It sounds as if the date will have a musical element so that could be an unintentionally tricky one. An aerial view of the Bachelor Manshun reveals just how many tents are pitched on the grounds for TV production purposes. Jokes aside, a cochlear implant means the brain must ‘learn’ what certain sounds are. Obviously voices are the priority in regaining a sense of hearing and the ability to communicate. It is said that music is often a bridge too far for implant users because it involves multiple simultaneous instruments, frequencies, rhythms etc. The user knows it’s music but doesn’t hear melody or harmony the way we do. Joey is enthralled with Daisy’s Polly Purebred image but the implant issue still lingers until dinner. Mutual body language of attraction isn’t a problem at least. Dinner can wait since Joey’s eating out of her hand. Jubilee we sort of remember. Mostly the name. Demi we certainly remember from her high-decibel nasal honk to her champagne cork-popping that became an internet meme to her, ahem, relationship with another Bachelorette. The combat camo is appropriate for the paintball date and also because apparently our girl has been waging a social media war against the one and only Reality Steve. Edwina’s background is unique to say the least as are the familial pressures she’s placed under. It seems surprising they would let her try this particular method of finding a mate. Lexi is mostly squandering her time and her MFA by producing a kindergartener’s water color. Canada has a long history of scrappy, scrawny types dropping the gloves for a punch-up so don’t get on Maria’s bad side! To be fair we must agree with Maria that this ginned-up drama about age is ‘so dumb.’ Suddenly we’re envious of Daisy who could switch her implant off to mute this silly debate. Back to Lauren In Leather who’s heading home and back to work and God help the patient who gets the next needle stick from her. Sister Allison is going to focus on her relationship with Joey, prompting the immediate and obvious question ‘What relationship?’ Salsa Girl barely got a look-in and uttered no lines on camera that we can recall after her intro video. The other dismissals were even more anonymous as it seems production is tipping its hand on who the contenders are.

The Bachelor ‘Franchise’ is experiencing scope creep. This is a dreaded condition familiar to corporate types and consultants in which a good – or at least an established – idea begins to expand, take on new and usually unintended characteristics and generally spill over into areas in which it is not needed nor wanted. We’ve had Bachelors In Paradise for some time, then Bachelorettes then a Golden Bachelor. If you’re a wedding planner, cake maker, band or DJ you may relish the thought of all the potential weddings, showers, receptions etc. courtesy of the Franchise but if you’re a viewer trying to keep track of the chancers who merely want to get in front of cameras for social media traction in their specious ‘influencer’ endeavors then it all gets exhausting…and incestuous as we’ve finally rotated back to the flagship program albeit with a Bachelor derived from one of the spinoffs. ‘Joey’ and ‘safe’ both have four letters and that probably isn’t coincidence. It’s no surprise that the nonthreatening runner-up who plays and teaches a nonthreatening sport in a nonthreatening vacation spot with his nonthreatening floppy hair, nonthreatening family especially his nonthreatening dad, nonthreatening light stubble and nonthreatening (read: gormless) default expression was chosen as the Bachelor via an audience who have repeatedly expressed a preference for a nonthreatening type and, more importantly, by producers who want it all to be nonthreatening ie free of controversy. A realist would point out to the pearl-clutching audiences, especially the type of person who would attend a taping and sit for 8 hrs edited down to 2, have made some very hasty, uninformed and/or foolish mistakes in picking their favorites, since Joey’s nonthreatening forebears have routinely been disappointments as The Bachelor. Indecisive, weak, hypersensitive, emotionally incontinent and a bit too eager to please therefore easily manipulated. A nice guy can’t finish last when he’s the only guy on a dating show but he can certainly bollix it up anyway. Joey declares he has relocated from Hawaii back to the Philadelphia area to be ‘closer to family’ (read: available for filming the series). It sure as hell wasn’t about finding better weather. One also wonders what the prospective market for a tennis teaching pro might be in King of Prussia versus Maui but perhaps there are some Main Line biddies who will pay the going rate. What does Joey care? He’s naffing off for the better part of the year to have a long queue of young single women landing in his service court without having to move one jot from the baseline. Congrats to Jesse Palmer on the birth of his first child and congrats to Jesse for his ability to still be 44 years old in the Bachelor Time Zone (ie when filming occurred) while he turned 45 in October last year. Jesse can still occasionally be spotted inserting tongue in cheek when reading the script from the prompter but he has mostly given over to the false-enthusiasm MOST DRAMATIC EVER spirit of proceedings. And those proceedings have descended to…gimmicks and stunts. And anything else that might be termed branding because tonight’s rose ceremony reject is tomorrow’s Boat Girl or Go Kart Girl. Something dumb, brief, ridiculous and memorable in case it’s needed in the intro video for Bachelor In Paradise or merely for the Instagram likes. Kooky is spontaneous and fun. Contrived is not and is more than a bit desperate. The advice remains the same: a woman who wanted to drive The Bachelor wild with interest would simply keep him guessing. Step out of the limo, meet his gaze and walk past him silently into the house. Instead, it’s desperation, insecurity and horrid puns all round with more props than a Carrot Top comedy routine involved. Leaves, chemistry sets, etc etc. When everybody has a sales pitch then they all run together just like the interminable ad breaks on this program. While much of the public discourse is focused on the southern border, there is apparently a different sort of influx from the north as the US and The Bachelor in particular is flooded with Canadian women. But even if there were only one of them can anyone explain the blurring of the little Canadian flag in Joey’s pocket? An overzealous video editor? One who dislikes hockey perhaps? Autumn has obviously worked her lines in front of the mirror for the past 6 months. Take a breath there, our little Account Executive. Kelsey is wearing some clunky white heels from the Marcia Brady Collection[TM]. She doesn’t sound like she’s from New Orleans – more like Indianapolis. Perhaps a real Louisiana practitioner could have told her that a voodoo doll is made and used to inflict pain and misery on its subject. It’s not the bayou version of a teddy bear. Spiritual pain aside, there is the pain ie cringe factor of one of the sisters offering a can of cheap beer to shotgun. We’re talking Philly girls who are well practiced at the tailgating arts at Eagles games but is this the sort of talent you want to take home to Mom – even if Mom is a Philly girl herself? But the beer is dutifully chugged and Lauren’s breast threatens to pop out. She catches it but not before Joey & Lauren are exposed as metaphorical boobs belching their way through this schlock. Kyra is screaming for reasons known only to her. Zoe is presenting bananas in a suggestive manner. If Joey had a single hair on his backside he would smash one of them into Zoe’s billboard-sized forehead. Wait! Smash…fore…an unintentional tennis pun. Daisy is a plucky (sorry, when the puns start they are hard to stop) blonde who has overcome hearing loss with a cochlear implant. Buck up, Daisy – Tasha from Love Island UK was born deaf and has had her implant since age 5! It must be said that this year’s cast seems to lack a front-runner…a no-doubt Final 2 type that causes the producers and editors to chuck in one red herring after another. Instead, this is a rather mediocre lot. You might even call them safe. Like Joey. One exception might be Lexi who seems to have enough confidence and bearing – and looks – to stand out. Boat Girl Jess is Ben Gunn-level crazy and based on the previews she will be playing the role of loose cannon this season. jenN? iS? aN? inveterATE? upTALKER? whO? getS? a? kisS? Samantha doesn’t know that we know that NFL cheerleaders get a pittance despite the fierce competition for places and long hours of rehearsal, so ‘professional dancer/cheerleader’ is stretching the truth. But self-promotion and face time and networking are the real payoffs. Sam is fighting fit and Miami-based so perhaps her more lucrative gigs might include, ahem, a silver vertical barre…also known as a stripper pole. At this stage Safe Joey is sticking to a very brief list of safe reactions. -No way! -I appreciate that/it/you! -Whoa! -Wow! -I love that! -Right? -This is/it’s a lot If the Sister Act was a dubious idea, revealing the secret before the first night concludes seems self-defeating. Lea should be doing cartwheels with her steal card power but is giving it the Hamlette routine for benefit of the cameras & Joey. D’you reckon she would have burnt it without weighty hints dropped from Joey? The early rose confirms she played it like aces wired. Ontarian Maria is apparently the designated cynic and sharp tongue who is critiquing people and proceedings. We can identify. Maria has a smile that is pasted on and dropped instantaneously. Maria tells Joey she loves a whore. What’s that? Oh sorry – she’s talking about horror movies. Daylight is streaming through the windows and there’s no attempt to pass this off as night. Even Joey remarks on the grueling length of the filming session – one probably accompanied by the grueling length of the wait to use the bathroom. Two theories on the sisters: either they are truly Sugar (Alison) and Spice (Lauren) or they are both Philly Girls – coarse, vulgar but Alison is managing to disguise it whereas Lauren can’t be fussed. Sibling rivalry can be amusing but effing and blinding during the ceremony less so. At the risk of concluding with a bit of the scope creep derided earlier, it would be interesting to see one or two handpicked bombshells (to borrow a Love Island term) enter the contest on the second or third day. These would be Joey’s Type On Paper (another Love Island term) in a literal sense, meaning they fit his description of an ideal woman. If the producers want fireworks they needn’t wait until the last few weeks when the women have formed cliques and familiarity has bred contempt. Send in some bombshells and the conflagration will begin straight away.

I have stated The Bachelorette generally doesn't interest me since there's only one female lead character. Sorry. Red blood and all that. But having seen Charity in the previous season of The Bachelor I had the sensation of approaching a nasty-looking car wreck on the highway. I told myself I wouldn't rubberneck but curiosity still turned my head for the finale. It's a strange sensation not having (much) knowledge of the participants but on the other hand it's somewhat liberating since by the end of the season and on TMTA they've largely cast aside their cloaks of vulnerability and nonthreateningness since they no longer need to sidle up to The Bachelorette. Producer plants and producer-fomented arguments are also much easier to spot when one is 'cold' ie unfamiliar with the players especially Earring Boy. He's someone the Australians would call a tryhard. A very fitting title. The usual passive-aggressive arguments of 'you weren't authentic and you took valuable time away from those of us who were.' Rinse & repeat for TWTA. TWTA & the finale have become a dizzying pitchfest for other 'Bachelor Nation' productions...dizzying even for experienced viewers. It's a tacit admission that traditional advertising spots are being ignored, muted etc. by an audience conditioned to pick up their phones and tablets as soon as the (many) commercial breaks arrive. I'm sure it's been observed that Charity's hair-trigger crying jags were just as prominent in her season as the previous one. The line on the forehead sticks out in bas-relief, the eyes redden and the waterworks kick on. I reckon there were bets placed on or some sort of drinking game or point system could be devised for the number of times Charity would well up in an episode. The Golden Bachelor could be interesting...if he wasn't giving it the same Sensitive New Age Guy vibe that the younger set are obviously pursuing. Still, it will be interesting to see the GB's Bachelorettes although surely most will be divorcees or possibly widows and a new designation may be required? Joey seems harmless in the good and bad senses of the word. Jesse, certain audience members and social media types were raving about 'a Bachelor who was actually a popular choice' - how quickly they've forgotten about the likes of Juan Pablo and Chris Soules who were also so-called fan faves but who performed abysmally as The Bachelor. Bachelor In Paradise is essentially scripted oh-yes-he-is-oh-no-he-isn't pantomime at this point, based on the previews. Hardly a surprise to see some of the more neurotic Bachelorettes from Zach's season ready to rant and rave and try to out-cry Charity.

Hometown Week can be jarring, not least because the tape-delay factor makes US viewers realize that this all happened months ago based on observations of the weather in the various locales as compared to the painfully slow retreat of winter in much of the nation. We aren’t quite sure what the seasons in Estonia are like and London’s maritime climate is stubbornly consistent for good or ill depending on whom you ask. But there can be no doubt that in the unreal world of reality TV it’s autumn in Vermont, Indian Summer in NYC, False Fall/Even More Summer in Georgia and Texas. To compound the disorientation, our clocks have just changed. In attempt to re-anchor us in Bachelor Standard Time we are subjected to yet another tight shot of Zach in the shower with the regrowth of his chest hair serving as a form of chronometer. Jesse is nowhere to be seen but Zach is compelled to give another summary of his feelings about the four remaining women even if the summary is intended to obfuscate rather than clarify. Gabi’s in Vermont and claims to be handy with a bit and brace. But surely a battery-powered drill would be more efficient if less rustic? Somehow they’ve managed to turn a maple syrup harvest into a series of adolescent double entendres. Fortunately the received wisdom of tapping maple trees is to leave the holes unplugged which means the couple can abandon the project to cavort in the woods and to taste syrup – the metaphor of treacly fakery posing as courtship is too obvious to avoid. Most (all?) genuine maple syrup is rather thin and runny compared to the thickened corn syrup-based stuff sold in supermarkets. Zach is ominously fooled by the fake item – perhaps another metaphor. A traditional fall scene is matched by Gabi’s traditional family – mom, dad and a quartet of kids along with a cute dog in a cute sweater who is the most interesting item in the room apart from those tempting pumpkin cupcakes. Big brother Evan’s speech pattern is that of an NHL player and he has the severe underbite of someone who perhaps has taken a slapshot or two off the mush. In any event it gives him a rather Australopithecine countenance. His revealing questions are actually leading ones, to Zach’s great relief, and Zach has stock answers at the ready. What we’re hearing from both Zach and Gabi is talk of ‘really like’ and ‘potential’ and ‘future’ and ‘similarities.’ Points for honesty but what we don’t hear from either of them is that they’re really into each other. Someone turn up the furnace, please, because all are still wearing their jackets and overshirts. To be fair, though, that four-car garage is majestic. Gabi seems determined to divert The Journey™ onto the exit ramp for The Friend Zone by worrying exclusively about herself. Zach’s reaction is patented by now: he becomes agony aunt rather than paramour as he mentally scratches the tearful female off his list for not properly feeding his ego. The videographer’s dilemma: is it possible to shoot New York City in a novel way? Or are the stock views of the statue, the pigeons, the ferry good enough? Were the sound engineers tempted just a little bit to overlay their hawk-screech sound effect over scenes in the park? Ariel emerges from Central Perk and is walking – make that sashaying – again without a handbag. But in her hometown that might be the best way to avoid being the victim of street crime. Interesting that the street view of Washington Square in Google Maps shows the police parked underneath the arch which itself is surrounded by barriers. But today – a cloudless, sunny day which occurs once per decade in NYC – there are no such precautions in place. God bless New Yorkers, who seem to believe that visitors are unfamiliar with the city despite having every last fact about the city filling TV shows, novels, films, history books etc. throughout everyone’s collective lifetime. The origin of this tour guide instinct is a mystery but it frequently pokes through. The park is less a green space and more a chicken run as wire fencing lines all the walkways lest any of those icky citizens enjoy the verdant expanses to which they have contributed. The public simply can't be trusted with public spaces. They might use them. The effect is to funnel visitors into narrow stretches of walkway. For those already allergic to crowds this is doubly cruel. So far the savvy local is offering generic NYC activities including – what else? – pizza. And pastrami. Save some of that dripping grease, Zach. You may need it when dealing with Ariel’s uncompromising family. Still, give truth serum to any red-blooded bloke and he’ll confirm he’d much rather be in a deli than at MOMA – but he may draw the line at gefilte fish. Now, at least, we’re off the tourist trail and Ariel is taking us to a speakeasy, although no password has been given. The coffee in this shop is served as part of a cocktail. A bit of Dutch courage is probably a good idea before running the Ukrainian gantlet. A Brooklyn winery? Is this a tacit admission the video crews wouldn’t have enough room to operate in someone’s apartment? Not quite in keeping with a ‘hometown’ visit. Now we’re up to six meals ordered and left uneaten but we remember that Zach, at least, spoiled his dinner earlier. Feliks and Feliks Jr may have taxicab-sized chips on their shoulders but they’re festive enough to have a glass of champers. Ariel’s mother is inscrutable behind those dark glasses. Brother Bobby is not like Gabi’s Brother Evan although Bobby’s male pattern baldness may close that gap and soon. It’s one thing to be skeptical, quite another to be rude and those who conflate the two are even more off-putting. Cue the closed eyes and grimaces from Zach. His pat answers are falling well short of the mark and narrow-eyed sister-in-law Gabby appears to be contemplating smashing a bottle of Veuve over this redneck’s skull. In Zach’s defense, birthdays and middle names are kid stuff. Ariel’s perfected her blink and slight nod reaction to any news or confrontation and she employs it with Bobby who is still kicking off about a situation he’s had to know about for months. Father Feliks is doing the sums and percentages and is unhappy with his daughter’s cut of 25%. The body language and, frankly, the heat of the Ariel goodbye is worlds removed from Gabi’s shaky display of neediness. But Zach seems to know that he is punching above his weight with the poised, worldly Ariel. An observer still untainted by spoilers of any kind would say that Ariel would make the ideal runner-up – someone who would be upset but quickly recover to soldier on (to the great relief of her relations) thus making Zach’s choice internally easy but externally dramatic. He’s a bit of a coward and this appeals to him greatly. And she seems to be a prime candidate for the next Bachelorette although she might get bored rapidly with constant talk of ‘vulnerability.’ It’s hard to see her cavorting with tattooed lunkheads as Wells serves up tequila shots in Paradise but the tattooed lunkheads would have zero complaints – except, perhaps, when she uses words of two syllables or more. There have been lots of rooms and lots of balconies but has Charity given our first railing shot of the season? She’s not all that keen to risk breaking a nail on the rusty barrier. Someone give Zach a legal pad to keep track of all the names, please. The magic makeup fairies manage to erase the tears and their tracks in successive shots of Charity. Zach is compartmentalizing. And Charity’s family are protecting. Could it be they’ve protected a 26 year old attractive professional a bit too much hence her availability? Or possibly not protected her enough from cads and bounders that have left her in a fragile state? Now Charity & Co. are attempting to fill the Chattahoochee with all the crying. The producers have managed to locate the last music club in North America where line dancing is still practiced. But the music is too loud for recording dialogue properly so the crews move them to…an alley. How romantic (?). There’s chemistry as in compounds and then there is the bonding of two atoms of the same element as seen with Zach & Kaity in their mutual hometown. Smitten Zach is tipping his hand so egregiously he might have to forfeit part of his salary if ratings dip due to the lack of suspense. She takes Zach grocery shopping in a boutique version of Whole Foods. Exactly how long does she plan to have him stay? Long enough to do some contractor work, apparently. It seems uncommon, maybe even a bit of a cheat, for a contestant to have the Bachelor all to herself at home. The video crew double as chaperones otherwise the KZ Konnection might be reinforced in the bedchamber. Mom sounds more Alberta than Austin (bio check – aha they’re Canadian). Kaity’s on-camera segments feature a now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t manicure. Zach is, unsurprisingly, being more declarative and assertive about Kaity and Seeing A Future With Her™. Kaity claims a relationship of ‘aboot seven years of pure toxicity.’ Would it be impertinent to ask if extricating oneself from such an entanglement might have been suggested and/or considered after year six? Even year five or four? To hell with maple syrup – Kaity is nailing her maple leaf flag to the mast by declaring her rather obvious feelings. Bachelor Emeritus Sean claims he was in Zach’s exact same position which may be more true than he’s letting on, since Sean & Catherine were entwined like two Picasso figures throughout his season, similar to Zach’s obvious affinity for Kaity. From hometown to hosedown, as in the wet-look driveway of the mansion. Also the usual outpouring of Charity. Correction: from Charity. Ariel laps the fashion field with her neck-wrap all-black number. As of this writing a box has been shipped to the Bachelor Mansion in Agoura Hills CA. It contains a safety razor and a simple note: USE THIS. Three roses look very lonely indeed where thirty were once stacked. We should probably take a moment to thank our stars that a producer planted provocateur hasn’t been shepherded through to the later stages. Charity receives none of her namesake although she is worthy of sympathy at least. Zach is shedding most of the tears this time and looks like he’ll be shedding more by violating his oath of celibacy on a secluded island.

One wonders what the Freedom Fighters of the 1950s and numerous other dissidents behind the Iron Curtain might think of 21st century post-Soviet Europe. They would probably be gratified to see independence and democracy and so much of the striking architecture preserved. The Hungarian flag visible in the opening shot has a round hole in the middle symbolizing the cutting out of a red-star seal during the rebellion against communism. They might be less impressed with the arrival of a Yankee dating show in which one person gets all the dates – they might even be tempted to compare The Bachelor to high-level government officials hoarding all the desirable women. Going back in history, King Coloman the Learned (reign 1095-1116) banned the burning of witches so thanks to his forbearance and vision Kat and Brooklyn are safe a millennium later. Zach walks through a train station and past dozens of digitally blurred faces. In another bit of producer-engineered ‘luck’ he finds a food vendor who speaks English although English on the continent is common especially in tourist areas. The rapidly-dwindling number of Bachelorettes are suitably impressed with Budapest although, as in London, they climb aboard mass transit and peer through a window rather than walk the streets and take it all in. If Chris Harrison trafficked almost exclusively in chit-chat, Jesse Palmer can manage only 10 seconds of small talk before getting to the serious business of the team roster and the gameplan. 6 days in quarantine is the kind of false precision and overcaution that has doomed Greer’s chances no matter how optimistic (read: naïve) she is or how much Zach obfuscates. If the clocks are to be believed the women hit the streets at 7:45 and the date card doesn’t arrive til noon. That’s a lot of time to fill by exploring the hotel suite. If Ariel brought her own wardrobe, she’s killing it. If she didn’t, she’s killing it anyway. The green sweater is lucky again and Kaity gets a date – it seems like she’s had ten of them already as Zach never misses a chance to whisk her into a side room for a canoodle. For reasons unclear Kaity ditches the very functional sweater for an impractical cutaway top – well, impractical except for the bared midriff that gets Zach’s attention. If we were to apply Western PA vernacular to the funicular (eh? eh?) we would call it an incline. More of the usual pepper-infused liqueur and tourist traps follow but at least the scenery shames the Disney imagineers. A public typewriter (?) entreats Zach & Kaity to write something. Zach says it will be a poem and then the ‘perfect man’ types…prose. Slowly. Kaity’s reply to Zachary Shacklecross (a minor character in the Harry Potter series) is also not poetry. And the shift key goes unused which makes it look more like a ransom note which, in a way, it is. Either time is standing still at noon or these are stock shots of the clock as the others wait in the suite. Kat continues to give herself unconvincing pep talks. Is that the rumble of a going-home SUV’s engine we hear in the background? Kaity breaks out the green again as the greens on the plate go uneaten again. It would be unfair to casually say Kaity has daddy issues but Kaity has….daddy issues. The real kind. Still, a rose is a dead cert for this one. Lessee…what’s the old formula? 36C…double it and add 30. The water’s 102F – wait, it’s only officially 96.8F. Kaity’s suit bottom has the production team worried they might have to ship the black censor box overnight from Mexico but the water preserves her modesty. Interesting that the group date Bachelorettes don’t even carry handbags but perhaps that’s to encourage a slinky runway strut and man-eater Ariel obliges with another one of her cleavage-displaying special numbers. Charity is keen to utilize the mentalist’s powers but those same powers leave her in floods of tears later. The powers aren’t real, dear, and rely on ‘talking up’ techniques that fueled a thousand Jerry Springer and Jeremy Kyle shows to identify vulnerabilities and catchphrases. Is the mentalist actually writing or is tapping chalk to simulate it? He has very neat handwriting, if it’s his. Hmmm…. Still, it’s better and more entertaining than another session with, er, Latto. It's been hinted at previously but now we’re getting some insight into Ariel’s Ukrainian-Jewish family and background. She nails Dad’s accent and his skepticism. Is this a bad time to ask if she’ll be permitted to marry outside the religion? And will Dad adhere to the script during hometowns? Charity has been knocking the red collection kettle over and spilling the emotional coins for most of this episode. Zach’s brow is furrowed and he’s looking down constantly – and it isn’t at the coins on the floor. It’s hilarious to watch Ice Queen Ariel’s non-reactions to the crying jags from the others. They might get a perfunctory nod of the head in response but they interpret it as a license to rabbit on for another 15 minutes while Ariel’s probably mentally working on a plan to eventually own half of Manhattan. Gabi? We understand now. It combines ‘gab’ as in incessant chatter with ‘I’ as in the usual low-grade me-me-me narcissism. Uh, Zach, if they’re telling you up front they’re going to be a neurotic handful you should probably believe them. If we’re comparing the Ariel romantic encounter to the Gabi encounter then there really is no comparison. Uh oh – Kat has been reading from The Book Of Jess. Cry and moan about a single date or lack of and Zach will send you down the Blue Danube without waltzing with you first. Kat may pass Greer on the mighty river as covid-delayed Greer is steaming upstream against a strong current and not making a lot of progress. Zach holes the SS Greer below the waterline – never mind that it’s no longer a plague ship – and it sinks quickly. Brooklyn arrives and we haven’t seen this many questionable shades of denim clothing since The Brady Bunch went off the air. Baráti zóna is Hungarian for Friend Zone and Brooklyn may be cycling, floating (balloon) or floating again (public hot baths) into it quickly. Zach’s poker face fails him again. He’s tilting the chin up, the head back and keeping his distance compared to the swan-like embrace he had with Kaity in the water. If he were a horse he’d be rearing back. Brooklyn has seen plenty of horses so she might recognize it. When Zach turns them loose he doesn’t hang about. Brooklyn doesn’t even get time to wipe her tears away. If she isn’t a prime candidate for Bachelor In Paradise I’ll eat my cowboy hat. And hers. She won’t need it on the beach anyway where she’ll have the lads queuing to do shots (and more) with her. Cue the dramatic removal of her suitcase which is less dramatically and more conveniently located by the door. For some reason this sets Charity off but what doesn’t at this point? It's possibly the least dramatic rose ceremony in history given the way Zach is telegraphing his moves but by now we have learned to appreciate Charity’s hard-faced we-are-not-amused expressions. At least they’re genuine. If it weren’t for the rounded ears we might start to suspect that Ariel is a Vulcan because she breezes through these events with very little emotion. Kat, on the other hand, is in bits but she looks Arielesque compared to poor Zach.

London’s castles and churches teem with history but that history involves many tragic events and circumstances. The Great Fire. The Blitz. The Princes In The Tower. Lady Jane Grey. Estonia appears to be a lovely, fairy tale place with its white facades and red roofs but, long before the present conflict in Ukraine, Estonia and the other Baltic Republics (Latvia, Lithuania) had their own unhappy encounters with the expansionist Russian Bear. Estonia gained its independence from Russia in the early 20th century. But immediately following WWI and the Bolshevik Revolution the plucky Estonians had to repel an invasion by the then-new Soviet Union. Despite their bravery they were undone – or undid themselves – via the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact, a secret German-Soviet treaty that divided Northern Europe between the two powers. The Soviet war machine, already geared up for likely combat against Germany (despite the treaty), made easy work of blockading, occupying and annexing Estonia, which became a pawn in the deadly chess match on the Eastern Front as the Germans and Soviets seemingly took turns invading, occupying and retreating. Tallinn, site of tonight’s episode, was bombed by the Soviets hence the newer buildings mixed in. Things became so grim and desperate that some Estonians dared regard Germany ie the Third Reich as a liberator and that Germany would grant them autonomy. The years during and after WWII are a sad but familiar tale of life behind the Iron Curtain – oppression, terror, large swathes of the population sent to Siberian gulags. Cultural isolation was also imposed, broken only by ‘pirate TV’ ie souped-up receivers and antennae that could pick up Finnish television broadcasts across the gulf. Like so many other regions, a combination of resistance and a weakened, dying USSR restored Estonia to independence in the 1990s. 30 years on and its Disneyesque charm (Brooklyn mentions Frozen) has been restored with no FastPasses required or strollers to trip over. You’ve seen those strollers on Disney’s Main Street USA. They’re the ones containing the kids whose parents have worked overtime through the year and spent the thick end of $5,000 on a trip to the Magic Kingdom. They book hotel rooms, meal plans, character breakfasts and meticulously plan their days to arrive at the gates when they open…only to have little Tilly or Timmy fall sound asleep in the stroller inside those gates at 10 AM. Speaking of Europe and fiction, the only other Estonia reference that comes immediately to mind is that Piotr Skut, pilot and friend to Tintin (Herge’s Belgian comic-book icon) is Estonian and a good egg. And he wears an eye patch. It lends him a jaunty appearance but don’t pilots need binocular vision for their own safety and that of the passengers? Jesse & Zach are caffeinating themselves as the subtitles unnecessarily inform us that Jesse is the host (obvs) and 44 years old. The espresso hasn’t kicked in yet as Jesse informs us that Greer is ‘under the weather’ (more covid protocol nonsense) but is also ‘asymptomatic.’ They can’t both be true. Zach is doing a rundown, no doubt at producer request. The hotel rooms keep getting smaller but it’s nothing to do with the dwindling number of Bachelorettes…just the typical smallish architecture on the continent. Tonight’s performance features understudy Kat in the role of Alex made famous by Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Kat has her nurse’s smile pasted on which offers all the mirth of a jack o’lantern’s grin. She wants to be made a priority and won’t be ignored. We only hope there are no bunnies, boilers or butcher knives in the suites. Charity gets another dose of – well, you know – and to be fair she does look stunning in emerald green. The single date has also chased away her tendency to grimace but it returns quickly and green becomes the color of envy when Kat steals Zach. Sitting down was his first mistake. Fair play to the other ladies who are exasperated by this power play and Kat’s bizarre recitation of tree fort rules like ‘I’m allowed to do that.’ We haven’t seen one motor vehicle in this cobblestoned historical district so the horses have the run of the place. The Wife Carrying Championships have long been a stock entry in those ‘News of the Weird’ columns – what a remarkable non-coincidence that they’re taking place during this date and Zach & Charity are convinced to participate. In another non-coincidence the referee speaks passable English. A sunglasses-wearing Jesse looks on, hoping he isn’t recognized. Brooklyn and Kaity adopt the Kissinger Philosophy: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. And right now the enemy is Kat, who is pouring out more self-justification to the ice queen of this group, Ariel. Ariel in her leather miniskirt and slinky sweater says ‘eyes up here!’ Well, she really doesn’t say it but she seems to. She stares intently at Kat and pretends to be listening. But maybe Ariel is like us: mostly bored. She strikes a blow for sanity by pointing out that Kat’s elaborate alibi is undone by the facts. Kat’s 40 watt bulb begins to flicker with doubt. Funky foreign liqueurs always seem heavy on the spice or flavor. Pepper, licorice etc. It is said that cocktails were, in part, a creative if desperate attempt to mask the poor quality of the spirits they contained. Perhaps plain old vodka from a primitive still wasn’t interesting enough so they added something more. Lots of dark, cold nights that far north. Jess echoes our question from last week: will they double up the date count to make up for London lockdown? Based on the running time of the episode the answer would seem to be no. Zach and Charity enter Gingerbread Palace where more food suffers the fate of going uneaten. Perhaps they’re using plastic props now rather than wasting a nice entrée. Zach is starting to wonder if his Bachelorettes were all cast from attendees at a support group meeting. Like Brooklyn, Charity has a troubled relationship history. Zach says he does as well and they agree that their locus of control became external against their will. It might be churlish to ask Charity to lay off the pop psychology buzzwords – seen, comforted, protected – but we’ll ask anyway. As the horses pull away we’re slightly surprised the audio engineers didn’t mix in the usual screech of a hawk. But we have more episodes ahead for that. Unfortunately, Jess may not see those episodes. Ariel has received a single date (rightly so, in the eyes of the judges) and Jess is in floods of tears. Charity recounts her big day out and has saved a thorn from her rose to scratch Kat (hehe) with it. Horsewoman Brooklyn isn’t interested in subtlety. She rears back and gives Charity two Okie hooves right in the mush. Brooklyn may have taken some licks from her evil ex but she’s got a few of her own to give. Cue the Batman sound effects! BIFF! CRACK! KA-POW! Brooklyn the Country Witch gives way to the Estonian Neutral Witch who has been using witchcraft more than 20 years. She claims she has used her powers to heal but the look on Jess’ face suggests Jess might be interested in a spell or two to make a few people vanish. They walk a circle around the fire and burn some sage – but that’s like any open-kitchen restaurant these days innit? Zach performs the ritual. Brooklyn claims she forgot everything going on around her. Are we sure that’s just sage they’re burning? Next is a lot of candle holding and it isn’t a birthday or Christmas. It isn’t very interesting or revealing either. And Brooklyn is yet to be ‘cleansed.’ For an ostensibly cold locale we haven’t seen any clouds of steam exhaled by the cast members, the horses or the locals. And the Bachelorettes are quite comfortable outside wearing only their cocktail dresses. Jess has resumed her long process of losing the plot. ‘I’m good now’ she says unconvincingly. At this point they may as well issue a wristband to Kaity inscribed ‘FINAL TWO.’ That isn’t a spoiler just a statement of the bleeding obvious. They mimic the other’s body language which is laid back (literally) and therefore open including both exposing their necks (we’re still cavemen in an evolutionary sense after all). The pitch of their voices matches (give or take an octave). Gabi’s shoulders are covered by her coat. Zach claims butterflies but his own shoulder is rebellious in separating the two, unlike his posture with Kaity. But he still wants a snog. Doesn’t he always? Actually, no he doesn’t in the case of Jealous Jess who is more focused on the competition than Zach. And Zach and his ego aren’t wild about that. Body language betrays Zach as he talks with his eyes closed and does a flurry of self-touching because Jess is like a dog with a bone over this single date business. His pep talk is going nowhere. And now Jess is going home. And it’s finally cold. Symbolism. More symbolism: Zach is boycotting the cocktail party rose. This producer’s stunt is hoary in the extreme but it never fails to agitate the ladies. In their defense, why are they being punished for Jess’ antics? We may not be native speakers or readers of Estonian but we can decipher ‘nudistide’ and ‘saun’ without the subtitles. Thank God it isn’t the Cyrillic alphabet. And thank God Ariel has brought more swimwear (to Estonia?). A tasteful red one-piece turns outright tasty as it works to contain Ariel’s bachelorettes. Zach, with eyes closed, is missing all the fun. More bizarre rituals involving plants take place. No, not the herbal bouquets, the plants are more English-speaking Estonians who enter starkers, offer a bit of generic advice and give Zach & Ariel an excuse to head for the hot tub. Some more advice for Zach: sneak Ariel to the airport and fly out of there with her. You don’t need the drama back there. You don’t want the drama back there. You may have to get a yarmulke and explain to Mom it will be a Jewish wedding ceremony but those are mere details for now. Brooklyn-Kat III: This Time It’s Personal. The prelude to the rose ceremony is an exercise in Brooklyn again nipping at the heels of Kat. The ceremony itself is rather anticlimactic. Aly just couldn’t break out of the background. Whisper it: they’ve stopped pushing rose ceremonies into the next episode while all hell breaks loose. Is it an attack of conscience or merely compensating for the interruption to the schedule caused by covid? Whatever the reason let’s don’t look a gift horse(woman) in the mouth.

I FFF'd (furiously fast-forwarded) through this dog's breakfast of an episode and don't feel I missed a thing. -This was less a trip to London and more a string of lame tourist cliches from 4,289 camera shots of Tower Bridge to, God help us, the lamest tourist cliche of all, the open-top tour bus. There's a reason central London has a congestion charge and it isn't because of the foot traffic. Anyone voluntarily getting into any vehicle is asking for a frustrating, slow journey. -The most cosmopolitan city in the world has a nearly unlimited number of activities, museums and historical sites and none of them involve driving past Big Ben - especially when you can already see it from your hotel room. Oxford St? Hyde Park? The Tate? Covent Garden? West End? Seven Dials? Canary Wharf? Shoreditch? A football match? Many of these are all certainly tourist-heavy but still more genuine and spontaneous than a guided tour. -Expecting cultural enrichment may be a fool's errand but it's hilarious that they try to dress up tacky spots elsewhere (eg Mexico) with musicians, dancers, etc. Meanwhile, London needs no staging and they're limiting themselves to what amounts to a school field trip. -Dear gormless Bachelorettes: the guard isn't a guard. He isn't a soldier. He isn't standing outside a royal palace or residence. He's a prop. He's acting. We would try to give you the benefit of the doubt but most/all of you seem convinced despite the ratty, ill-fitting, obviously fake uniform. Real guards can and will stop you from making asses of yourselves and invading their personal space especially when you perform vulgar acts. But it's interesting that you revert to acting like teenagers in a pathetic bid for attention. We can only thank our stars they didn't also try to interact with one of the tiresome, ubiquitous 'living statues.' -It's been a conscious and generally wise decision to avoid the issue du jour here but who is testing for covid well into 2022 and why? Why wasn't the test conducted before leaving, upon arrival etc? For a sick man Zach is remarkably spry. Why not test the Bachelorettes? If they also test positive then the damage is done - let them see Zach anyway in the old chicken pox-party way. If they test for antibodies - same drill. The 'protocol' is literally out of date in that it doesn't allow for contingencies, even the good ones. London lodgings aren't cheap but why not keep them there for a few days until his inevitable and quick recovery? It's not as if they're marooned at a remote mountain resort with nothing else to do. The editors can wait a day or two longer to put the season together. -Sympathy for Zach is quickly running out as he makes not one but two rods for his own back in the form of Gabi, Professional Stalker, and Greer, who seems convinced she's a Disney princess based on the first impression rose and the second reel of the film has gone missing lost along with her prince.

Apologies for including possibly irrelevant musician geekery in these posts but the home studio was recently kitted out with new Yamaha monitor speakers. They are typically described as ‘flat response,’ meaning they more faithfully reproduce the sound of a record, film or TV show than, say, a portable Bluetooth speaker or a TV soundbar. In Bachelor terms, this means hearing every subtle nuance of Vocal Fry and the brass sizzle of the incessant cymbal crescendos that comprise much of the soundtrack each season. Genevie has her neonatal nurse’s arm in a sling, perhaps another reminder of the football follies or, in this case, the folly of petite women playing full-contact football. She describes the vibe as lighter and more comfortable – which means it’s guaranteed not to last. They’re sending the Bachelorettes out of the country rather early in the season. That’s a lot of plane tickets & resort hotel rooms. We’re a far cry from Gloomy Gus Matt and the desperate, dirt-cheap ‘meet me on the 14th green at Nemacolin.’ A grump might point out that LA, for all its other ills, still has glorious weather most of the year but island fever is contagious and all-consuming. One of its symptoms is adults jumping on beds. Zach is showering on camera. Again. So far his best ‘connection’ may be with Moen Faucet. His agent will call their agent. One or two ladies can’t stop blurting out that they want a single date. In a striking coincidence, so does everyone else in the room. Kat is chosen and her eyes immediately dart to the others as she apparently expects some cat-scratches directed at her eyes. Instead of being congratulated, Kat is forced to pay off the emotional blackmail offered by Greer. It's also a bit early in the season for a boat ride and the more-or-less official jump into the water but in they go. The whole point of snorkeling is to blend in with nature and observe it up close, typically in and among a reef, but the only fauna visible is a starfish hanging on to a prefab underwater statue. The women left behind are eschewing beach, watercraft, swimming, diving, waterslides and other resort offerings. Instead, they have formed a Circle of Distrust in which they stoke the fires of each others’ insecurities and OCD. Anastasia is speaking it OUT of existence. Ariel nods – she isn’t necessarily agreeing, she’s mentally crossing the Anastasias of the world off the list of possible rivals. She’s a cool customer. Back on the beach, love is a many splendored thing. Insert joke about an additional wood piling being added to those already present. Hang on, you can’t use ‘insert’ and a double entendre in the same sentence can you? Does that make it a triple or a quadruple entendre? Darkness falls but not the anxiety level – somehow we’ve arrived at Bachelorettes like Jess describing themselves as ‘terrified.’ Long faces greet the group date card and get even longer as Brooklyn attempts to stifle her joy at getting the other single date. Frankly, limiting the Bahamas trip to just two dates doesn’t seem efficient unless the goal is psychological cruelty. Good news: they’ve served an actual dinner at the dinner date. Bad news: it’s going uneaten again. Lemme tell ya from experience at Atlantis, kids, whether you eat it or not it’s going on the room tab to the tune of about $75 per plate so tuck in. And God only knows what they’re charging for a glass of red these days. Kat reveals she was a tearaway but her differences were with mom, not dad, which is unusual in those situations. Still, she’s managed to emerge without a plethora of odd piercings or full-leg tattoos. Did someone mention dinner? No need for it when Kat is playing Zach like one of the locals’ steel drums. After that the rose was auto-Kat-ic (sorry!). One can’t help noticing that Charity is frequently providing on-camera exposition. One also can’t help noticing that Charity is prone to wrinkling her nose as if she’s detecting onions in the room. More likely, she’s revealing she’s not keen on sharing Zach with eleven other people. Conch fritters are very good. Or maybe they taste that way because they’re usually preceded by a long day of booze and sunshine. Interestingly, conch and Zach both end with ‘ch’ but are pronounced with a ‘k’ consonant. One has a pink lining and makes an odd honking sound. The other is a conch shell. After a shot or two some of the girls are getting in the spirit(s) of the thing like the limbo contest. Gabi, allergic to shellfish and allergic to having fun and relaxing, apparently, is not. Charity looks as if she’s lost a filling and her exposed nerve was just zapped by some frozen daiquiri. Ariel is working it again with a lacy white swimsuit and a unique breech-delivery of ducking under the limbo rod. We’ll allow it for now. Anastasia gets a grandma kiss (on the cheek) and doesn’t take the hint. Strike one. She steals Zach whose eyes are darting nervously across the water and at anything except Anastasia. Strike two. Kylee appears with her personal flotation devices to intercede. Anastasia not best pleased. She doesn’t realize she’s just been rescued from strike three. Kylee’s time with Zach is short and fruitless also despite her initiative but we’re quickly moving from rum punch to rumble on the beach as nerves and tempers fray among the ladies. Kaity has a Fast Pass to this particular ABC Disney property and never has to wait or beg for time alone. Producers manipulating the outcome or Zach smitten already? Whichever it is, Kaity always has a very confident aces-wired expression on her face on the rare occasions that Zach isn’t latching onto it again. Jess gets a coaching session but not a kiss (at least not on camera). Charity gets a bit of charity (sorry again). Gabi, we fear, is having her hopes raised only to have them dashed later. Kylee and her Killer Kurves are taking one for the team by revealing the inevitable Bachelorette drama. She’s doing it in a lighter, more cheerful fashion than most but The Bachelor inevitably kills the messenger. If Kaity has the advantage of being dealt a good hand, the urbane Ariel has the guile to win the pot with any cards she receives. Pulling a grateful Zach away from the incessant hissing around the table, her body language is doing most of the talking. The hands, the shoulders, the posture, the nods, the head tilt, the chin-on-fist. Is it genuine? Probably. Innate? Also probably. Practiced? Possibly. There are still ‘finishing schools’ in this world and they try to teach the kind of poise that Ariel displays. In the end, it’s Ariel’s grotto (ouch – sorry again!) along with the rose much to the consternation of the sharp-clawed others. Quad bikes are always fun but the question to scream out loud is: WHERE ARE THE HORSES?!? It’s an isolated island beach. She’s a rodeo racer for crissakes! This would have been the perfect opportunity for her to impress with her professional skills rather than watch another amateur Bachelorette bounce around awkwardly in the saddle. Poolside, Anastasia is running through the Big Bachelorette Book Of Compensatory Phrases: ‘I feel attacked’…’It’s all hearsay at this point’…’It’s really frustrating’…’It’s not worth my energy’ etc. One suspects her fate is sealed anyway. Charity is scowling again. Brooklyn is giving a demonstration of what blonde hair does in tropical humidity. Zach is giving a demonstration of sweating. In an unfortunate bit of editing, Zach declares ‘I’m hopeful for tonight’ which is followed by a disclaimer: ‘This segment contains material about domestic violence.’ A cowgirl named Brooklyn is a bit of a contradiction, and a petite blonde with a sassy tomboy streak is also unusual but fetching. ‘My ex cheated on me’ seems rather tame stuff compared to the harrowing tale Brooklyn manages to relate. Six years is an eternity in that situation but especially when someone is just 25 and was a teenager when it all began. Brooklyn’s interview segments are equally harrowing but they reveal that there are, in fact, tissues available for the tearful Bachelorette. Oh, and a well-earned rose. Before the ceremony Anastasia is walked to the gallows, sorry, the limo and Kylee frets about being next. Surprisingly, Ariel wades into the troubled waters downstairs. Gabi, as usual, is unable to keep her own counsel. Jess may still be ‘terrified’ – if so, perhaps her hands were shaking as she held the container of body glitter. She’s covered in the stuff. Even Ziggy Stardust thinks it’s a bit over the top. Charity gets some sugar and Kat gets felt. As in pool. The hotelier might not be thrilled about his billiards table being used as a bench but it affords Kat another chance to canoodle with Zach. This doesn’t go over well with Davia but while she’s in bits our executive Ariel is demonstrating effective time management again by minimizing the chat and going in for a second helping, date roses be damned. Ah Jesse did make the trip. Where’s he been all day? The casino? Speaking of casinos (we really weren’t but anyway…) and the Bahamas, an anecdote about the casino at Atlantis Bahamas: the slots are tight. Not just house-edge tight but oh-God-loosen-my-shoelaces-I-can’t-feel-my-feet tight. Unfortunately, that’s typical at any casino outside Las Vegas where fierce competition tends to loosen slots lest a bad reputation travel around town. But on an island and at a resort, they are the only game in town. Combined with steep (but unlisted) prices for food and drink and those insidious ‘resort fees,’ the casino takings help keep the lights on. Craps is a confusing game at first but a fun and a social one. The house has less incentive to bust you out compared to a game like blackjack. In craps they reduce the ‘true odds’ slightly for payouts and that 10-15% becomes a ‘tax’ of sorts retained by the house. Let’s say Player X bets on a particular number (roll) of the dice that has 8:1 odds, or mathematical probability. In craps the casino will instead pay 7:1 and keep the extra dollar (or multiple thereof). And so there is some incentive for the house to keep the player at the table for long stretches – and they often do. If you hear shouts, cheers, laughter, encouragement or disappointment at any hour of the day in a casino, it’s probably coming from the craps table, as opposed to the glum silence of the blackjack players. In the islands, the power grid is notoriously unreliable. Lines cannot be buried underground, telephone poles may shift along with the sands and frequent, powerful storms may topple trees and pull down transmission lines. Blackouts are greeted with a shrug by the locals. In an expensive resort power failures may be offset by generators but the danger is still lurking. With all that in mind, your humble correspondent was playing craps at Atlantis. And the lights went out. ‘Don’t tell me someone actually won at slots – they’ve shut the power off to keep them from cashing out!’ shouted your correspondent. The dealers’ heads snapped around to look suspiciously at your correspondent. But they all got the joke at once and laughed. They knew about those slots! Back to the rose ceremony, Gabi. Is. Still. Talking. Zach is a male specimen? Gabi’s not even a nurse! Jess and her glitter get a rose. Send the cleaning bill to Fleiss, Zach. Mercedes has quietly accepted the role of agony aunt among the Bachelorettes but manages to snag a rose. Davia’s last kiss was, in fact, her last kiss. Genevie the wasp-waisted nurse is out of her sling and out of the competition. Off to London now and if you think that Atlantis story was long it will be difficult for this Anglophile to refrain from relating facts and memories from a dozen or so trips to The Big Smoke. But Zach is calling the week ‘robbed’ in the previews. It sounds rather ominous.

Tonight the schedule permitted a (mostly) live viewing of the program bolstered by Dutch courage – literally and figuratively in this case with a bit of Ketel One Citron. The good news: homework will be done well head of any (self-imposed) deadline. The bad news: watching the show without benefit of a downloaded copy means the playback speed can’t be bumped up to 1.5x or even 2.0x to get us through some of the tiresome bits. Those who volunteer for The Bachelor franchise agree to sacrifice dignity & privacy for publicity with a view to a strange new form of fame and – all together now – a chance to find love. This means Zach can’t even shower without cameras present. Zach consults with Sean a second time and confirms that he’s ‘vibing’ with many of the 17 women. Given the volume of soul-kissing so far Zach’s optimism is either well-founded or wildly misplaced. Jesse is in a questionable shade of peach shirt and dishing out the pregnant pauses along with the date card which most of the room treat as radioactive. Have we talked yet about how bad the date card puns are? And why do they read the ‘Zach’ signature? Would it be from anyone else? A Night At The Museum involves toting camping lanterns for reasons unknown since all the displays are still illuminated. Kaity gilds the lily and declares it ‘literally the coolest place on earth’ and has Zach eating out of her hand under the watchful eye of a triceratops skeleton. The darkened museum has them whispering until they launch into slumber party mode. The flimsy cots ensure that no propagation of the species will occur in the natural history museum. Meanwhile at the mansion, group date invitations are treated with all the enthusiasm of draft cards in 1968. Kaity’s late non-arrival has tongues wagging but probably not as much as they will in the morning when she returns. And so they do, especially when they spot the elephant PJs and….a rose. The football group date has become a Bachelor staple because it offers ‘violence punctuated by committee meetings’ (to use George Will’s famous description) and because there’s always at least one Bachelorette that treats it like the Super Bowl and gets a bit too physical thus exacerbating the already-tribal separation of the teams. The Chargers alumni (Gates & Merriman) are proper legends of the game and, we assume, won’t be drawn into girly gossip a la Hilary Duff. In this topsy-turvy world we have active NFLers playing flag football in their all-star event and we have Bachelorettes – nurses, realtors etc. – in full pads and helmets knocking seven bells out of each other in a pickup game. Surely the wrong way round? An apparent concussion prompts the arrival of a favorite Bachelor prop: the ambulance, but fortunately it’s unneeded. The victorious Blue Team are opting for champagne and cocktails in contrast to the ice water from opening night. When and why did ‘toast’ fall out of usage as noun and verb in favor of ‘cheers?’ Christina Mandrell is now communicating exclusively in vocal fry. The group date evening session consists of Zach kissing Bachelorettes with the efficiency of a shopping mall Santa taking photos with toddlers. Bailey lurks in shadow, not content to wait her turn. ‘How are you feeling with it all?’ is Bachelor-speak (Zachese?) for ‘You are being annoying and needy’ and he demonstrates this with a barely-there hug. And now…back to the serial snogging with his dates. Sorry, Bails! Oops, never mind. Bailey wants validation, dammit. But the only kind of validation she’s getting here is for the parking lot. Always good for a chuckle when the other Bachelorettes feign shock and dismay when one of their rivals is eliminated. Aly is a sport. She must be to go skydiving…in a wedding gown. And to sit in a hot tub in broad daylight. She’s worried about getting a rose? Why? PS – they’re not even bothering to prepare food on the dates now. Ariel is the darkest of horses, keeping her bearing while chaos or mere cattiness unfolds around her and carefully choosing her moments…like this one in the hot tub. She’s self-aware enough to know the effect her bikini top is having on Zach’s field of vision. Brianna is dishing dirt but her decision to leave means the producers are robbed of multiple potential episodes of the girls tearing strips off each other. The Pollyanna concept of a ‘safe space’ is bandied about as Zach does his chin-on-chest routine for the 800th time. The girls may not like Christina Mandrell stealing their moment but they are glad to take their moment of revenge to pile on Christina Mandrell. So much for the safe space!

In our previous missive we discussed the cultural trend of the tattoo, specifically on female forms, specifically the size and visibility thereof. The first shot of Zach reminds us that while the Miami Vice craze compelled legions of men to ditch the razors and to wear t-shirts with linen jackets, the collective stubble vanished just as quickly as it appeared, especially after horrified parents saw the prom photos. But scraggly whiskers now seem to be a permanent fixture, including on visages where they are least needed and least flattering ie the lantern jaw of Zach. Whiskers and beards can camouflage jowls, double and/or weak chins as everyone’s science teacher demonstrated. But on young, fit blokes they will forever look out of place and sloppy, especially when paired with otherwise smart clothes. This episode begins with the producers’ favorite: a railing shot. The Bachelor, breathing deeply, contemplating the universe and his place in it while his nether regions stir as they are invigorated by the ocean air, crashing waves and, er, the thought of two dozen attractive women waiting breathlessly to see him. This time, however, there isn’t an actual railing…Zach is on the edge of a cliff. And where is that cliff? Point Dume, not too far from the mansion (gasoline is expensive even for ABC these days). And how might those unfamiliar with Southern California recognize Point Dume? It was the location of the unforgettable ending of Planet of the Apes. Charlton Heston wailing on hands and knees in the surf as he realizes he’s been on earth (of the future) all along. All together now: ‘Ahh damn you! G*d damn you all to hell!’ It’s a new season and we aren’t quite at that level of anguish ourselves but give us time. (The intention is not to embed images in every post this season but certainly a side by side illustration is warranted here.) The women who attended The Live Show™ speak of it often. Log-rolling for social status among peers? Greer’s big brown eyes are the stuff of Japanese anime. Brianna is attractive enough to stop traffic and inspired a Google search which led to a quick but deep dive into the phenomenon of ‘hair edges,’ something us country boys don’t know too much ‘bout. Someone with a suspicious turn of mind (to use the phrase of Robert Newton as Long John Silver) might suggest that Brianna has a little ski jump nose that is often the final product of a rhinoplasty. But as long as we don’t veer into Janet Jackson territory it looks lovely. Cat, you have a cute look but the wild contortions of your face when reacting have to go. And reconsider your shade of concealer. Jeans and bare shoulders are a requirement for boarding the bus to see…Latto? Me neither. But we musicians can’t pass up an opportunity to rail against assembly-line hip-hop so here goes: Genius of Love was a song originally composed and recorded by the Tom Tom Club (who were/are Tina & Chris from Talking Heads). Genius of Love was constructed using loops ie repeated drum patterns or instrumental sequences. Loops became the basis of much of rap/hip-hop from Rapper’s Delight by the Sugarhill Gang to Fantasy by Mariah Carey. And what was Fantasy? It was a sample of…Genius of Love with a new chorus and verse. Samples have always been controversial financially (viewed as theft and violations of copyright) and musically (ie it requires no actual creativity). Now we have the ludicrous prospect of a rapper sampling a song that itself was a sample. It’s the stuff of Russian nesting dolls…or Xerox machines. Whatever it is, it’s lazy and one short step away from karaoke. Latto, in full hair, makeup, wardrobe is here to tell us that appearance doesn’t matter. If you say so. In other news, Patrick Mahomes says the ability to throw a football isn't really that important to being a quarterback. Oh no, they’re dancing. Sober. Under bright lights. At 11 AM. All the horrible wedding receptions you’ve attended are flashing before your eyes. Much of the ‘dancing’ involves moves typically seen in a strip club. Or a gymnastics class. Jesse’s Angels (?) have appeared, led by Victoria Fuller, and her denim dress is bursting open. You might describe it as fuller of Victoria’s victorias. Unlucky Johnny is on a beach somewhere, clothes tattered and torn, hair askew, staring blankly at the horizon after tangling with the eyewall of Hurricane Victoria. The other ‘iconic ladies’ are unknown to this writer…or maybe they were just forgettable. Surely with the outfits, music and club setting there’s a brass pole in our future? Cue the exotic dancing, because every bloke who takes his forever person™ home wants to tell his family she gives a good lap dance. This post is already long and it’s only the first date but another humorous musical aside: at a gig we were frantically setting up as usual. Mic stands placed, cables run etc. The singer that night ran up with a panicked look on her face. ‘My microphone won’t fit in the stand!’ Odd. As it turned out, she had a rhinestone-encrusted mic like the one the ladies used on this date and yes, it requires a special holder. Showbiz, eh? None of the women have the presence of mind or courage to go for some stand-up comedy but then self-deprecation might be out of line with the empowerment theme, such as it is. But being funny is what the military types call a force multiplier. At the rose powwow half the women appear to be drinking…water? Hey it’s Dry January (and thank heaven it’s the last day of that) but this was filmed months ago. Has a new temperance movement begun? Are they counting calories that closely? Are they worried about losing their bearing? Katherine is clearly a frontrunner, clearly a schemer and clearly able to exploit Zach’s eagerness. Her chatup line is awful but he doesn’t seem to mind. Brianna seems a bit more authentic but masterfully applies the one-two punch of tears & laughter to obtain a kiss. Autocorrect is fiercely objecting to ‘Tahzjuan’ with an angry red line below it. I’m not sure I could spell it from memory. We might also fiercely object to her crashing of the party. The other women certainly do especially after Thaz, Tahj..dammit, Tahz starts issuing ominous warnings about the long odds they all face. Profound distress (in the words of Mark Twain) shown by the women. But Zach has given a polite but firm No to Tajh, Tajz…whatshername. Ravishing delight (Twain again) from the women. Now…if Victoria had started spinning her web, the outcome might have been very different and even more upsetting. And one suspects she might reappear later anyway. Speaking of traps, Katherine has set hers and nabs a rose. Are we obliged to spell out Christina Mandrell in full like the captions for her entire run? Arie Luyendyk Jr was quasi-famous (son of an Indy 500 champion) but we didn’t see his surname throughout. Christina Mandrell loves being a mom but ‘he hasn’t seen that side of me yet’ meaning she hasn’t worked up the courage to tell him. On the other hand, she did bring an entire party bus in order to ‘steal’ him. Wait…Zach went to a Nickelback concert? Christina Mandrell speaks for all of us with her reaction. First concerts don’t always represent our best choices or tastes. Still, Christina Mandrell isn’t too put off to lay a hand on Zach’s inner thigh as the chopper rises (metaphor alert). The much-hyped hometown date is gazzumped by…going to Zach’s home in week 1. Some of the Zachians appear a bit worse for wear. Christina Mandrell tests Zach’s poker face – he sweats bullets but awards a rose anyway. Ariel’s cue card gambit is groantastic…a 7th grade note-passing tactic to get a kiss. So much for slick NY marketing. Zach is handing out kisses like Santa gives out candy canes. And the girls are telling like kids visiting Santa. Brianna is overly fixated on the roses…could mean trouble. Christina Mandrell and Brianna are having the 21st century version of an argument – a passive-aggressive exchange of unpleasantries couched in psychobabble and insincere empathy. Brianna has gone from queen bee to worker about to buzz herself out of the hive with anxiety. Dumping it in the Bachelor’s lap is always a mistake…he’s even declined the offer once. And now he’s ticked off. The rose ceremony features more cleavage than the Grand Canyon. Not that Zach minds. Perhaps he thinks they’re offering him a human vase of sorts for the long-stemmed rose. $5 to the first girl who tries it as a goof!

Late to this week and the new season in general so bullets instead of paragraphs -Most if not all of these women are stick thin. Over the years we've heard stories of some extreme dieting prior to appearing on reality shows. Love Island UK is a good example of the cast slimming down for the leering slow-motion entry footage and early episodes, then lazing around and eating carbs all day for a couple of months with the corresponding changes in their physiques. However, it seems that these Bachelorettes' natural frames are very bird-like. There probably won't be any of the desperate bum-covering outfits, coats, sarongs etc. employed for a recent Bachelorette (ahem). -Speaking of bone structure, facially they are a stunning lot. There weren't many 'OK but let's wait til the war paint comes off and the eyeglasses come out tomorrow' types. -And three cheers for American dentistry. -Whisper it: has the large, ugly tattoo craze run its course? There may be marks on wrists, ribs etc but sleeves and stamps seem to have fallen out of favor. Granted, we haven't seen anyone in a bathing suit (except the first person profiled) so the dreaded 'chandelier' between and below the bust may be lurking but we can only hope not. The chandelier tattoos are like the Kardashians or the Sussexes - nobody can recall asking for them and nobody wants to see them but there they are anyway. An odd dynamic. Perhaps this is a beneficial side effect of Instagram ie women seeing themselves in photographs - and seeing public comment - has put them off acquiring loads of ink. On the other hand, this is hardly a random sample of the female population. These are Polly Purebred types who have finished school, obtained good jobs (in most cases) and, obviously, keen to marry & have children so drawing macro conclusions may be erroneous. -I'm going to be 'true to myself' as they say on the show and include my annual if futile rant against the drowned-rat Clairol Herbal Essence center-parted hairstyle. Per the headshots 19 of the 30 have it with most of the rest slightly off-center. This hairdo refuses to go away or even to budge. Perhaps another effect of Instagram? Even a 1968 sorority in the throes of Marlo Thomas That Girl flip-curl zeitgeist didn't exhibit that sort of strict conformity. (PS - blondie second from right, bottom row is a bit of all right, isn't she?) -Zach is a bit too earnest and therefore a good (?) choice for the sort of weepy, sniffly tortured Hamlet type that the series has come to rely on. His voice has a strange sort of honking, nasal, adenoidal tone but is rather deep which signifies a high T level. -They aren't even trying to hide the fact that this first night takes all night and then some, as the first batch of rejectees walk out into broad daylight. One of them commented that they had been sitting idle for three hours (!). -It seems genetically impossible that a daughter of Barbara Mandrell and a niece of Louise & Irlene Mandrell would not have musical talent, even loads of it. Is it possible that she does but chose to be contrary or merely lazy? And why did they keep displaying her full name? Merely because of the celebrity connection? -10 years for Sean & Catherine? Wild. Inspiring. And a bit depressing. -The producers seem to be less cagey about identifying the women who go on dates and/or advance to later rounds ie fewer 'mystery' shots from behind or use of silhouettes. -A kiss on the first night used to be a rare event that would bring the house down. Now Zach is eagerly and randomly latching on like a tick at a nudist colony.

One standing rule for writers is: don’t use the first person, especially the pronoun ‘I.’ With this in mind, this writer tried a water fast for a day. As in no food, no alcohol, just H20. It was surprisingly, remarkably easy. No reason, really, other than a tame self-challenge. Some have taken fasting to extremes eg wrestlers cutting weight claiming to see visions or the youngest brother in Yellowstone freezing his knackers off outdoors waiting for the spirit of nature to appear in the form of a bear or eagle. No such hallucinations occurred during the day. Then the episode started and the doubt began. This writer saw – or imagined – strange things like Kate repeating herself to the point where the cheeky editors dubbed her canned lines side by side by side. Kate, previously confirmed loved-up, began considering Hayden and his obviously disposable cash as a possible mate. Eliza, clearly preferring Justin, nevertheless sending him home in favor of 25-watt Rodney. Ever-more-bizarre images of Michael & Danielle bouncing on horseback through the streets of Sayulita only to encounter Wells – or his clones – popping up in Zelig-like fashion at various stops along the way. Harrowing Lovecraftian scenes of Wells riding a…burro? Finally, through the glycogen-deficit haze, appeared Eliza. If the Genevieve-Aaron melodrama was excruciating, long and excruciatingly long, the Eliza-Justin-Rodney triangle was excessive, large and excessively large in terms of screentime. When Justin was dismissed, it was clear that Eliza wanted to go with him, even to jump into his arms in a surprise move that would cause the music composer & audio engineers to empty their supply of cymbals & swelling strings onto the soundtrack. Undeterred, they trot out some sinister, foreboding Jaws-like bass-heavy cacophony as Eliza seeks out Rodney to extinguish his already-sputtering wick. Indecisive Eliza is eye makeup-free during the day but that doesn’t stop her from obsessively dabbing at nonexistent mascara…22 times according to a rough count at 8x speed, to say nothing of Rodney’s attempts to stanch the flow. Rodney hasn’t just tempted fate throughout his ironically-named Paradise experience, he’s dared fate to kick him square between the legs. And it does. Oh dear – Genevieve made it through nearly an entire episode without tearing up and he’s set her off. A group cry follows although it should be noted that Victoria was in the group but declined to actually cry. She’s a frosty one. Wait, that’s not fair. Maybe she did cry but by then this writer had dozed off. Lack of food? Perhaps. But boredom seems more likely.

We really don’t want to mock the Paradisians incessantly but comparisons to cavemen finally learning to make fire after several weeks on the property are easy enough. Hayden and his dog are here, one of them in spirit at least, although the sound engineers have a bit of fun with a barking sound effect. Hayden has the air of someone who orders Bud Light at every restaurant, bar, sporting event and even microbrewery. Shanae is the devil’s candy, luring one unfortunate male after another into her neurotic vortex. If you want the unvarnished truth, ask a Dutch person. Or an Australian. Well, Florence is both and suffers fools like Hayden not at all. And how does she know about frat boys? Feigning interest in his dog is taking all the restraint she can muster but the absent dog is still much more interesting than his sweaty-salty backstory. Kate ‘shot her shot’ and, days later, wants to test the relationship? And now she’s upset that Logan is bypassing the drama. Do make up your mind, dear. And now Kate is ‘pissed’ about a situation she could have avoided entirely with the two-letter word N-O in response to Hayden. Odd. But it more or less confirms that the Paradisians really don’t have the option to leave the unfortunate new arrival twisting in the wind. Did you hear it? The hawk screech sound effect that is. Any broad vista regardless of location will get the sound whether there are actual hawks overhead or not. To be fair they’re mocking Hayden’s own screech while ziplining. Kate continues to complain about that which she didn’t want in the first place but agreed to anyway. One can only imagine her indecision and arbitrary moods when ordering a meal. She may be one of those who sends the waiter away three times before ordering water. Memo to Kate: sliding down a thin cable over a rocky gorge in a far-flung place with minimal safety equipment is supposed to generate its share of adrenaline. Hayden may not be Evel Knievel but he’s allowed to show some nerves. Kate is very torqued off that Hayden spent big money on vet care and equally torqued off that the ‘excellent communicator’ spoke candidly or critically to Gabby. All that honesty-in-a-relationship stuff goes out the window when encountering some actual honesty. Funny, that. There’s probably a metaphor in people bumping a volleyball around in a random circle... Eliza would smile and laugh at a weather report but she has Justin convinced he’s Kevin Hart. You’re second choice, Rodney. Doing one interview after another isn’t going to improve things. ‘If you had said no to the date he offered’ is the preferred alibi for the ladies, who would predictably lose their minds with indignation if their partner presumed to tell them no. The lads can’t win, nor are they meant to. Gold Justin, Silver Joey. Bros who are bros and bros who are bros, bro. In muscle shirts no less, dude. Jokes aside for a moment, the doppelganger phenomenon is fascinating to those who wonder if they have a double somewhere in the world or who actually encounter their double. But a one-off meeting is nothing compared to having an identical twin for life. Speaking of twins, there’s no opportunity now to bring blonde Haley & Emily back again as both are engaged. As the article helpfully points out, ‘Haley & Emily are both 28.’ You don’t say. The boys are aiming high by going for the two most attractive women but they say no, thus wrecking the ‘women can’t say no to dates’ theory in an instant. It was fate – and the producers putting their foot down – that sent Shanae and Florence with the twins. The less said about the revolting drinking games the better except we’ve already seen that Shanae needs no enticements or distractions in necking the booze. God bless her for keeping her abs taut despite extensive practice bending the elbow. Judgment down, libido up. She also needs no enticements to declare that THIS hookup is the special one. Rinse and repeat. With all the subtlety of a flying mallet, one twin asks Flo ‘do you feel anything?’ The honest answer for her might be ‘boredom’ after a long stretch of singledom on the beach. Ah, what the hell. It may be tilting at windmills (Dutch pun!) but Flo locks lips anyway. We once had The Perils Of Penelope Pitstop. Now we get The Grumbles, Grouches And Gripes Of Genevieve Parisi The Paradisian. According to a commercial-free, edited copy of the episode provided through the kindness of internet strangers, the final act featuring the bizarre passive-aggressive argument between Genny & Aaron occupies an excruciating 22 min of airtime with an excruciating number of indignant are-you-joking-right-nows. Aaron wants to spend time with Genevieve. This upsets Genevieve. Genevieve wants to spend time with Aaron. This upsets Aaron. If this is love, give us war. Never mind, we’ve got both already. ‘They’re arguing’ sagely observes Victoria. She’s a clever one. Sensing danger, members of the herd disperse. Sensing drama, members of the herd reconvene to gawk. Genevieve storms off past a staggering number of crew members. The flurry of activity is so intense now that Eliza’s bum escapes the black box treatment. Aaron, sensing real danger, trots out his secret weapon – the dramatically cracking voice. He also spits out an insincere-sounding Imfallinginlovewithyoutoo which nevertheless excites the eavesdroppers. Victoria pumps her fists in triumph but her, er, feminine assets barely move thus confirming their provenance. Not a complaint, mind you, just an observation after years of similar observation. At this point, we can only conclude that Genevieve is genetically incapable of smiling or being happy and we’re starting to feel the same conditioned response. Damn you, Pavlov!

When does ‘having a connection’ or ‘forming a relationship’ become a problem? When you’re the producers of Bachelor In Paradise and almost everyone pairs off happily mid-season. Taking their cue from Winston Churchill’s famous speech, what they mostly have to offer is blood, sweat and tears. Sweat is a given in the humid tropics. Tears are also frequent even if the sensitive lads put the girls in the shade with all the crying jags. Blood is, fortunately, rare although shots of some undefined medical emergency with ambulance and flashing lights are now a staple of the season preview along with a chorus of gasps as one of the villa residents (villans?) drinks too much on a hot day and faints from dehydration. Although ‘finding love’ is the stated mission of the show, love doesn’t provide much interesting footage beyond the first embrace set to stirring music. After that, canoodling on a day bed involves…canoodling on a day bed. Not much conversation, a good deal of napping and calmness all round. But calmness is boring to all. And so provocation becomes the real aim of the black-clad crew as they circle the cast like sharks looking for the aforementioned (metaphorical) blood. Cue the recycling of departed cast members and the arrival of new ones to engineer Paradise Lost, with apologies to Milton. -‘You can’t base life decisions off your emotions’ says Victoria, who has done exactly that for years now. Bless her, she’s trying to embrace logic in affairs of the heart. -A lady paying a man compliments means she is flirting in first meetings in Paradise. After that, they are strictly a means of letting him down easy. ‘You’re a great guy’ or ‘You have so many of the qualities I look for’ is more devastating than ‘You disgust me.’ Alex is not entirely dim and clearly suspects he’s being let down as easy as possible. -Victoria is supposed to be keeping the suspense alive but her body language gives it all away. Stiff & formal & distant with Alex but literally laid back with Johnny. She was at eye level with Alex and glanced nervously side to side as she spoke. Her eye level here is below Johnny’s which means she’s looking up at him – a raised chin is a sign of positivity and it exposes the neck – a animalistic, subconscious way of demonstrating vulnerability (drink!). It also means he sees more of the whites of her eyes as she bats them – another signal of attraction – and she’s scanning his face up and down to read his emotions. The rose ceremony is a formality in both senses of the word now. And now that you’ve been briefed in psychological ‘reading’ of others, go win some money at the poker table! -Adam. Mate. These Yank women don’t know what they want. That should be obvious by now. Leave them to it. Better off out of it. Strewth! -As for the other (sort of) Australian, she must be the most obvious producer plant in Bachelor History™ as she keeps Alex around…and certainly not for herself. -Rule of thumb: unprompted interview segments *in the morning* where person X gushes about the relationship mean trouble will follow, as Aaron discovers. -A half-naked chunky bloke beating a drum over a campfire in a jungle seems like a shaky premise for ‘releasing everything’ but Paradise cast (and Bachelor cast members in general) are chosen not just for their looks but for their malleability and willingness to follow instructions. But at least Victoria can ‘be herself’ which apparently consists of having a snog in a hot tub. If that’s the true measure of sincerity then I’m the Great Pumpkin, having spent many hours beneath the bubbles myself. -Maybe the spectacularly uninteresting Rodney is given so much camera time because he’s willing to play the fool by making bold declarations of fearlessness and stability in his relationship, only to have both of these vanish like the ebb tide. -Genevieve’s lost a nail but her claws are still sharp and she’s happy to scratch Justin’s reputation to shreds like the arm of your couch. Meow! -Justin’s fish story about his secret crush on Eliza is so rotten the seagulls & crabs would avoid it. Eliza, to her discredit, naively believes every word while Rodney is shoveling out his own naivete back at the bar. Brandon piously declares that ‘Paradise is about exploring and those what-ifs,’ even if Brandon himself hasn’t explored and wants no part of any what-ifs. But it sounds good on camera. -When times are good, Genevieve cries. When times are bad…you fill in the rest. Aaron hasn’t been invited to any MENSA meetups but he’s providing all the emotional intelligence in this relationship since Genevieve can think only about herself. Aaron’s objection to her ‘poker tell’ of fixating on Justin is entirely justified as her reaction and her body language (that again) demonstrate. ‘Everyone sees how happy I am’ she says as she sobs uncontrollably. Mmm-hmm. Genny & Aaron’s conversation is the equivalent of a ransom note using words cut out from an issue of Cosmopolitan. Special…valid…understood…etc. ‘I’m good. I’m good I’m good I’m good,’ Aaron declares through tears. Oh no – she's infected him too. This thing may not last to the end of the flight back to the States. -Johnny & Victoria like each other. The producers give them a hot rock on a date. Justin & Eliza like each other. The producers give them dinner, drinks, a restaurant to themselves and a huge fireworks display. Seems unfair but needs must when stirring the pot.