Updated: Aug 25, 2020
Yes I confess, I tuned in to the bachelor again..
But I have to declare to the world that this will be my last blog on this topic. I wish Locky all the best in his quest to avoid herpes. I found episode three and four evoked such feelings of revulsion that I simply cannot inflict this type of cruelty upon myself. Even with ample self-medication, I just cannot do it again.
I did not mind the abseiling across the cliff faces of our majestic Blue Mountains; I did not mind the girl warrior tribes slogging it out on the gridiron field; I did not mind the covert love letter slipped to Locky from Juliet’s heaving mega cleavage; I did not mind the armpit sniffing or Locky’s need to have his nose in Nicole’s butt as they rock climbed back to civilisation, this is not uncharacteristic behaviour for primates. I did not mind Locky demonstrating his Master Chef technique in the kitchen preparing his Cordon Bleu speciality, chips and gravy.. Birds eye are always crunchier... I thought to myself, if his prowess in the kitchen extends to his ability in the bedroom, God help the successful contestant who is left standing at the end of this competition.
I just could not suffer the acoustic assault upon my sensibilities. The realisation that almost every contestant and our hero must have studied English as a second language brought me to my knees.
This verbal assault was echoed around the world. The grammar and slang were gut punches to my soul. There were too many. Our language has been terminally wounded. Every deceased literary giant trembled and turned in their graves. The Bard himself arose and screamed, “Enough!”
But it wasn’t just the assault on my aural sensitivity. What really offended me was the sheer nastiness, and down right bitchiness of most of the girls. It had become quite clear that groups or “gangs” had formed. There was the “ethnic gang plus the intruder” and the “Aussie chicks gang”. Each group containing an outspoken member who unleashed vitriol and acidic attacks on their colleague contestants. Again it was Lord of the flies, or high school forever.
As a parent of a daughter, watching these young women, almost universally linguistically challenged, insult and demean their fellow contestants I felt gravely hollow and realised that each of these young women were acting in a manner that was truly reprehensible. I understand the rules of the game but for me the line had been crossed. The program had lost me.
The formulaic alcohol fuelled schoolyard bullying occurring at each cocktail party left me feeling that this was no longer train wreck entertainment but a sad and pathetic indictment of these young women.
Is this an example of modern feminism?
The Producers and creators of this program can feel very proud of themselves. They have taken a group of young impressionable women and created caricatures of toxic barbie dolls with the power of speech, that would have even Matel announcing an urgent recall.
Would the young women who agreed to participate in this program, upon reflection, wish to reconsider? Or is the lure of insta fame and revenue from discount code promotions for eyelashes worth the humiliation and degradation?
But the question I ponder most is… this show is called “The Bachelor” where the promise of true love is the prize.. Is this truly the pathway to love?
Does Love involve gang warfare? Does love require you to insult your lonely heart comrades? Is this a modern day West side story? Was Osher Officer Krupke? For those of you who may not remember the scene, here it is.. And imagine our bachelor girls as the boy gang.
So I wish all the survivors of this monolithic train wreck the very best of luck. And if Areeba, is unsuccessful in her quest, I suggest that she follow her true vocation and consider a career as a call centre operator; where the calls are not recorded for future training purposes and where she may truly express her extraordinary personality and her tremendous compassion for every disgruntled consumer.
Never give up on love..
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JD Watt, author of the book “BURNT”; the shocking true story of a woman’s deception and a man’s broken heart, is a divorced, devastatingly handsome, affluent single 51-year-old professional. He lives in the wealthy Eastern Suburbs of Sydney Australia. He is also a blogger giving his advice on love, relationships, sex and dating from the perspective of a middle-aged guy having learnt so much from his decade long search for “the one”.
Intelligent, established, sophisticated, cultured, honest, kind, loving, generous, tall and handsome, JD is every woman’s dream.
He offers advice on relationships and how to read the signs, so you never get “BURNT”. JD believes in love and so should you. BURNT by JD Watt is available on Amazon, Kindle and on online Booksellers globally. Download or buy your copy today.
JD Watt is not a psychologist or therapist; he bases his advice and opinions on his own life experience.