Props to anyone who specifically requested them. And props to Adam, because he requested the nicest.
"Hi," an autopilot Chris Harrison says by way of introduction as he walks up the gentle slope from the base of Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain to its apex near the entrance of the Bachelor Pad. "I'm Chris Harrison, and welcome to..." Yes? YES? "The Bachelor." Ah. He stares with his cold, dead, robotic, game-show-host eyes directly into the camera as if to say "One of my own kind stares with a single red eye back at me," stifles his robot impulse to run up to the camera, embrace it in the throes of robot love and wail "BROOOOOOTHER!," and instead sticks to the ones and zeroes of the cue cards facing his way in continuing, "Tonight, the journey begins again." He enunciates the "again" with an almost sarcastic relish, telegraphing in that one word that he knows we've heard this script before and he knows there's nothing left that can really surprise us and he knows that "this season there will be some surprises" actually means, "This season will be exactly the same as the others, except for the part where we show you some shots of the girls' pee-pee in containers for no apparent reason." He knows it all to be true. And yet the ChrisBot was trained not to think on his own, not to tell us what he knows.
"America, you asked for him and you got him!" Toyota? Oh, lord. Barely a moment from the opening shot of the season and I've already resorted to a Forget Paris joke. People, I think we're in some serious trouble here. On his continuing journey up Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain, Chris stops to splash about a bit in the gentle rapids of Excessive Backstory Creek, reminding us through the finely honed art of recapping (which is best left to the professionals, really), "Our newest bachelor, Bob, captured America's attention as he tried to win Trista's heart. But when Trista decided to marry Ryan, women all over the country wanted their shot at Bachelor Bob." Ninety-seven self-effacing fat jokes and sixteen extraneous guys all mysteriously named "Brian" later, a gelled-haired legend and completely unnecessary book deal were born. "Now the tables are turned" -- though we were often reminded that the tables were also turned when Trista was holding the roses, so does this mean that they're turned back? Or that they're turned further? Or that they're physically upside-down? And with all that furniture rearranging going on, how come my chair is still FACING A TELEVISION THAT REQUIRES ME TO WATCH THIS SHOW FOR UPWARDS OF EIGHT HOURS A WEEK? -- "and the roses are in his hand, as twenty-five beautiful women will compete for Bob's love." The perfectly coiffed CompuChris makes a move for the red light and we cut away hastily. Poor Chris. So very, very over it. "For the first time ever," Chris continues, completing his climb up Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain and gingerly sidestepping the sign reading "You must be at least this tall to climb Lack Of All Human Integrity Mountain -- hey, not so fast, Firestone," as he tells us, "Our bachelorettes already know who the bachelor is. And they all believe that Bob could be the man of their dreams." Yeah, Chris. And there's another word for people who experience delusions that they know someone well enough to marry him just because they saw him on television. They're called stalkers, they're unbalanced and dangerous, and the "limos" that they usually ride around in have a locked metal grate separating the passenger in the back from the arresting officers in the front.