Vulture - Devouring Culture

You couldn't blame Raylan Givens for feeling a little bit helpless this week. Consider:

• After last week's "Dear John" letter from Winona, he spends a good deal of this episode searching for her in vain, only to discover that this isn't the first time she's tried to leave him in the past six months. Not only that, but Art, Tim, Rachel ... they all knew about it. 
• He discovers that Boyd and Arlo have been running oxy out of Aunt Helen's house — still the one thing sacred to Raylan in Harlan.
• Owing to his lawman obligations, he finds himself in the position of having to snuff out Boyd's competition, effectively doing Boyd's dirty work for him (no wonder Quarles come to the erroneous conclusion that Raylan is in Boyd's pocket).

Raylan's not used to being bounced around by outside forces like this. Thank God he gets to take small pleasures in things like repeatedly punching William Mapother's sleazy pimp character, Delroy, in defense of recurring prostitute Ellen May. It's the little things sometimes.

At first glance, it makes sense that Jess Day is a teacher, given her childlike enthusiasm and penchant for singing. But as this episode points out, Jess has a big flaw as a teacher, and that’s her lack of authority. Kids aren’t going to be won over by cuteness, because come on, they’re kids — they win cute-offs every day. And few demographics are less forgiving of aggressive quirkiness than a room full of tweens.

So, wedding planning seems like a nightmare. That’s what I understand from television, anyway, because once your proposal is locked down it is all business and no fun going forward. Your every decision could widen the gulf between your girlfriends. Your ex-husband will have to worry about what to bring as a gift. Napkin rings always seem to be a big cause for concern, for some reason. All this, just to marry the man with the tiniest eyes you’ve ever seen. How will he even see you from the altar, when you’re walking down the aisle? His eyes are too little.

In the beginning, it seems like any other ho-hum Tuesday on Glee — one scoop nonsense, two scoops racism, a bushel of Mr. Schue being insensitive, and a peck of scientific impossibility. In the beginning. First, Sebastian corners Rachel and Kurt at the Lima Bean ("Well, if it isn't a young Barbra Streisand and an old Betty White" — good line!) to deliver a dire warning: He has jankily Photoshopped Finn’s face onto some pictures of a dude in ladies’ shoes with a bare-naked Johnson! Curses! And he threatens to upload them to “THE INTERNET” unless Rachel agrees to drop out of Regionals so the Warblers can achieve an incredibly unsatisfying fake win! Because that makes total sense — I’m sure everyone in Ohio is spending nights and weekends Googling the name of the world’s most terra-cotta high school show choir performer, and, if they are, would give TONS of cares about a glaringly fake and narcoleptically tame Photoshop project. I’m sure. Not even considering forfeiting the spotlight for one goddamn moment, Rachel is like, “That is show choir terrorism!” and announces to the glee club that she WILL perform at Regionals regardless of the consequences for Finn’s genitals. Finn is mad for sixteen seconds. Then Mr. Schue, predictably unhelpful, literally says, "You guys are just going to have to deal with things like this!” Because he is a sociopath.

This week on The Bachelor, we're down to the final four, which means hometown dates and Ben awkwardly meeting the families of the cutthroat contestants he's chosen. Yep, Lindzi, Kacie, Nicki, and, especially, Courtney, didn't just beam down to Earth in a poof of spray-tanner. They have parents and siblings and terrible couches just like the rest of us.