Episode 3, On Lying

I'm not going to lie (despite what the title of this post suggests), I am really sick of ABC appointing villains (or however they do their villain selection - trial by fire, turtle races in the town square, popular election to indicate consent of the governed) that I have to defend. I like my villains to be purely, manipulatively evil (or at least edited to appear that way a la Michelle Money), so that I can spend the season nurturing a delicious seething hatred (or, in the case of Courtney, a deep-seated sense of awe and respect. Even if you're not a fan, you have to be able to appreciate that once-in-a-generation type of talent) that I can weave into a blanket of utter disgust for humanity that will sustain me through the atrocities of Bachelor Pad. But over the past few seasons, they've given us Tierra and Ben (and, actually, I would probably consider adding Kalon to this group), impotent and, at least in Ben's case, unwilling villains who they have told us are evil but have failed to show any kind of evidentiary footage to back up their claims (I vaguely recall something with Tierra and shivering. And maybe a flight of stairs? But I get sympathetic fake concussions, so it's hard to remember for sure).

I want my villains to be accused of having a significant other back home; of taking a dive for some sort of illegal, underground Bachelor fantasy ring run by the Yakuza and Pete Rose; of committing holiday atrocities so heinous that even Whoville finally falls silent on Christmas morn; of hating puppies. Instead, over the past few seasons, the characters meant to be a lightning rod for our spite have been accused of not saying hi in the hallway of the Bachelor mansion (which I imagine to be windowless, its walls covered in pictures of Chris Harrison and tears); of owning a bar; of failing to reference their son enough in, what I'm sure are truly scintillating conversations about the meaning of life and Foucault's Archeology of Knowledge between a bunch of boozy dudes. 

This week it was established that Ben's greatest fault is his lying - that we, and ultimately Des, must judge his character and find it wanting based on the falsehoods he tells while wearing a tank top specifically designed to accentuate his guns (Justice and Truth), and I cannot, or perhaps, will not continue to toe the ABC party line. So I've decided to dedicate this week's posts (after what was admittedly a pretty bizarre, surprisingly dull kind of week) to the defense of lying, and the many ways it is used and, at times, mandated to enhance the honest portrayals of love that we all get to witness on this show.