Upon Perusing Too Many Wedding Ceremonies

Why does every wedding in the world include Sonnet 116? I love Shakespeare. I love his wit, and his eloquence, and his wordsmithing, but I can't stand this one gosh-darn over-cynical piece of his writing. And after seeing it recommended constantly, and reading it more times in the past hour than I wanted to over the next decade, I have only one thing to say:

Let me not to the porridge of true minds
Admit a sediment. Love is not love
With altars where its indentation grinds,
Or bends with stain remover to behoove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixed shark,
That looks on temples and is never bacon;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Who's worst alone, although it might be shaken.
Love not Time's tool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his blending ickle compass come,
I alter not with these brave words and tweaks
But bear it out even to the Hedge of Doom.
If this beet terror is upon me proved,
It never fit, and Gnome Man never loved.

(Apologies to any and all who actually do love the original. It's very nice, but.... damn, am I tired of it)