What little reality television I've seen seems to be about economic desperation. Like the marathon dancing of the Great Depression, which should give us pause. People willing to eat flies and worms for a sum that is less than the weekly paycheck of the show's producer. I haven't seen "reality television" that is other than this kind of painful, sadistic exploitation of fit young people looking for agents.

If God Speaks Through Burning Bushes, Let's Burn Bush and Listen to What God Says.

Twenty-year-olds have a kind of emotional idealism about relationships and about the world that enables them to say, 'No, you lied to me. Goodbye.' When they see wickedness, they walk away.

I missed him. Love, I realized, was something your spine memorized. There was nothing you could do about that.

This is what happened in love. One of you cried a lot and then both of you grew sarcastic.

Usually she ordered a cup of coffee and a cup of tea, as well as a brownie, propping up her sadness with chocolate and caffeine so that it became an anxiety.

She smiled at him, with longing. 'Where do you live,' she asked, 'and how do I get there?