For eight single professional females gathered in Dallas, it truly is holy Wednesday – the evening each week that they gather in one of their houses for the Traveling Bachelorette Party. Munching snacks and passing a wine beverage, they cheer, cry and cackle as their spiritual leader, Trista Rehn, braves heartache, indecision as well as the occasional recitation of bad poetry to choose from among her 25 swains. Yet a thing is unsettling Leah Hudson’s stomach, and it’s not simply the wine. “I hate that we have been sucked into the Hoover vac of reality TV,” says Hudson, 30. “Do we not have anything better to complete rather than to reside vicariously through numerous 15-minute-fame seekers?” There there is a substance of reality TV’s good results: it truly is normally the one mass-entertainment category that thrives due to its audience’s contempt for it. It makes us really feel tawdry, dirty, cheap – whether it did not, we most likely wouldn’t bother tuning in. As well as in this, for ...