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There are about three things I should be doing right now. By three, I mean one. Having been sleep deprived since New Years Eve, it’s crazy for me to stay up late to catch up on television, but I can’t really help myself at the moment. It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’m watching the premiere of “The Bachelor.” Why? Because the wild popularity of this horrendous show makes me worry for our culture to the point where I cannot get any shut eye.

Ben from "The Bachelor"

You see, the people on this reality show are more intolerable than the cast of the “Jersey Shore.” For starters, this program is filmed in southern California, which is home to all things narcissistic, false, and shallow. Many of the silly girls auditioning to be Ben’s wife are just as vacuous as the women I had the misfortune of being raised around during my formative years in Los Angeles. I mean, you have to be a little off to sign on for a show like this. Out of fifteen seasons, “The Bachelor” has only produced one successful marriage, so what makes anyone think these unions should be taken seriously? Fifteen minutes of fame is nice, I suppose, but an appearance on “The Bachelor” is more embarrassing than brag-worthy, if you ask me.

"Hello, we all look the same!"

“Jersey Shore” has some pretty idiotic people with no tact or social grace, but I must say — and I can’t believe I’m about to admit this —- the cast members are neither pretentious nor phony. They own their flaws and do not pretend to be anything other than their trashy, perpetually intoxicated, classless selves.

"Jersey Shore"

“The Bachelor” contestants try to give off a clean cut, poised, high brow image when they’re actually abominable and pathetic for participating in such a television series in the first place. As if the institution of marriage hasn’t been bastardized enough, these clones fuel the problem with their vapid conversations and expectation to have a meaningful relationship in an inorganic setting.

Every year, it’s the same story all over again: Pretty boy courts a bunch of spray-tanned blonds and brunettes, the girls fight to the death for him, crying sessions abound, the guy picks someone, a divorce or break-up ensues. There’s nothing interesting about any of these high society, empty folks, although the network does make a point to include at least one character who has been beaten up by life. Does it come as a surprise to you that this particular girl never gets the guy in the end and always heads home early on in the game? It shouldn’t.

I could go on and on until I find myself giving a glowing recommendation to “Jersey Shore,” which is undeserving of praise, so I’ll stop here and go to bed. As terrified as I am for my country, I refuse to lose another second of rest over “The Bachelor.” If I’m lucky, the show will come to a close after season sixteen — and Ben’s engagement — ends.

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