COMMENT: Okay. Right then. I have a shocking announcement to make about the latest episode of The Bachelorette, the dating show which follows the romantic fortunes of men who I have perhaps unkindly but not entirely inaccurately described over the past few weeks as clones, drongos and zombies.
Much of the series has played out as a slow, witless drag. I've sat there watching nothing happen for so long that I've considered climbing onto the roof of my two-storey mansion and flinging myself off to see if there's any difference between The Bachelorette and death.
But tonight's programme, which heralded the start of week six of the show, set a new standard. It could fairly, and with all due logic and appreciation, and without any sentiment or falsehood, no irony or hoax, be described as really good TV.
Shocking, I know, but I mean it. The show explored the rules of attraction, and did it with tenderness and skill. It got real. It got emotional. It got sad.
Sadness, on a show designed and intended as a piece of junk; sadness, when up until now all we've had is banter, the exchange of cliches, and that particular degeneration of language which demands every sentence end in the word "bro"; sadness, and heartbreak, too.