A Comparison Between The Bachelor and Televised Sports

I think that for a woman, the experience of watching The Bachelor might be similar to a man’s experience watching televised sports. I’ve been watching televised sports; they’re beautiful. The lush green pitch, finely toned calves, glistening spandex pants, broad shoulder pads, fluid ball movement, team together somehow acting as::: one : MIND, pace pace and slam dunk, freeze rage, and replay slo-mo replay. But while, for me, the athletes are major-league attractive, I imagine men identify with them more. I figure they must, otherwise staring at beautiful men getting physical with one another wouldn’t be the hallmark of heterosexuality.

Now The Bachelor, let’s be honest, is also a competition. The contestants want to find love sure, but damn it, what they’d really like to be are winners – I project. During Bachelor season we (my roommates and Kristina and Dani and probably some other people) see the highlighted pays: the triumphs, miseries, and extremes. We identify. We think, I could be in that game if I had a better body. We root for specific girls; we have rivals. Tenley is from Oregon so is technically our home team.

The object in play instead of being a ball has balls. Trivial distinction.

And in the end, the prize is a little gold ring instead of a big gold trophy, but it’s the same thing. The losers cry and the winners cry... if the Bachelor has a half-time show I can’t think of what it is. The difference is when the winner of the Bachelor cries we call it love. That “love” is mistaken victory; it’s hard work that has finally paid off. In the off-season players get traded, the Bachelor changes his mind or the winner gets a better contract. And we at home are not surprised and look forward to next season.


We're Wizards and We're Bored

I was watching Harry Potter 6 the other day. I’ve spent a lot of time on the couch for the past two weeks, and flying around on broomsticks, nothing but the most romantic lighting, and having a dark lord to fight looked pretty appealing. Escapism, folks: Narnia, Middle Earth, and whatever other book or TV series that makes you bummed you live in the real world. How is it that authors can create worlds that are so much more compelling than the one their readers live in? It seems like the realness – the fact that it is there – should outweigh the fantasy that glows two-dimensionally on a piece of furniture.

I listened to a Louis CK recently. Check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LkusicUL2s. Plus, people and information are available to me through the Internet. It’s like some sort of legendary spring of knowledge, but I frequent only two sites and get bored.

We Westovarians put together a Life board game. We included all the typical events in life after graduation: unemployment, weight gain, marriage, winning the lottery, etc. You hit certain squares based on a dice roll. The random and deterministic qualities were bleak – and satisfying due to our post-grad fashionable jadedness. It was a little uncomfortable how easily we could map out the big events in a middle-class American’s life. Deterministic, impersonal, and bullshit. It was tough to whip out our senses of adventure.

But one square said, “Make an omelet.” I get to make breakfast almost every day for the rest of my life.

If we all lived in Harry Potter land – we’d transfigure instead of problem solve, wear robes instead of jeans, and escape from Basilisks instead of going grocery shopping – would we be excited and entertained all the time? I can’t imagine what it would be like if we were. Ron says to Harry for chapters at a time, “Holy bloody smokes Harry, we’re wizards.”

Holy bloody smokes.