Call it a guilty pleasure. Call it an unsuccessful attempt at matchmaking (2 marriages out of 19 seasons is a success rate of... you don't want to know). Call it what you will -- the fact is that America is addicted to The Bachelorette.
Us Weekly has profited enormously from the Gosselins' marriage failing -- producing six consecutive covers this summer featuring either Jon or Kate -- and they're not quite done feasting off that carcass' bones.
I've watched one of the twins leave her lunch box at home. I've watched an uncomfortable one-on-one play date with a horse. I've watched Kate speak lovingly to her husband. ... Oops, scratch that last one.
Has the US media found itself a new sense of propriety and moral center, or is it just out of it? Too depressed about its future and uncertain of its function to follow even the scent of blood and sex?
In the end Edwards, like Spitzer before him, will fade into the Gary Hart night. What will we be left with but more tawdry feelings about a couple we admired. There's nothing good in it. Let's stop gossiping.
While a story about a drug-addicted man is likely to focus on or even celebrate his expected return, coverage of female celebs is more likely to focus on her (self-inflicted) demise and act as "cautionary tales."