I WOULD HAVE HAD THIS POST UP EARLIER BUT I JUST GOT OFF A THREE-AND-A-HALF-HOUR PHONE CALL: And I'd still be on it too, if it weren't for those bitches.
Look, my complaint about America's Next Top Model-Like Substance remains the same. It's not that hard to get this right. The whole point is to find the prettiest tall skinny girl who takes good pictures, wears clothes gracefully, and can walk a runway. You have to trust that the competition to satisfy that goal -- and all of the runway-stumbling, jazz-hands mugging, pixellated cavorting, nudity-dodging, white-girl rapping, sadistic dentistry, bacterial flesh-eating, and voluntary diaper-peeing that flows organically from it (pun intended) -- will take care of the conflict for you, and you'll end up with a show that is (a) entertaining; and (b) packed to the gills with attractive women. Believe it or not, on television, some consider attractive women a plus.
In other words, quit rigging the eliminations to satisfy perceived ratings needs (some time later this season I'll also request that Tyra be denied the franchise, but that's not this week). Don't get me wrong, I don't think the eliminated contestant was going to win. But she certainly could have made it to the middle weeks. Instead, she got mixed up in the bottom two with the Sponsor's Conflict Exemption, and the desire for yelling and pointing and stepping off trounced the aesthetic merits, and we -- the appreciators of elongated lesbians who lounge about in metallic bikinis -- are the real losers here.