Ah, Shipwrecked! Where else can the hungover of our fair isle go to witness a band of poshos, fucktards and cavemen-from-the-stupid-ages argue about whether to build a shelter to protect them from vicious storms or lie in the sun all day? Where else on British television can such a high dose of self-involvement and ego be present in one location? No wonder these throwbacks are sent out to a desert island in the Pacific - at some point all those shoulder-chips will explode in a bloody, horrible mess, and nobody wants to have to clean that up in Luton town centre.
Anyway, things kick off especially nicely this year, since the tribes have been forced to elect a leader, resulting in Thug #1 and Bint #2 being elected leaders of their respective isles. Bint #1 is less-than-happy at Thug #1's plans to maybe do some work at some point, and the whole thing kicks off in a joyous explosion of what-the-fuck.
Television nowadays has turned the corner of Reith's inform/educate/entertain mandate and has overriden the whole thing with 'judge' instead. Judge idiots on game shows! Judge parents for having fat kids! Judge foreigners for their crazy ways! Judge poshos, fucktards and cavemen for having the temerity to be poshos, fucktards and cavemen on your telly! How dare they? Then, when you're done with all that, the shiny box in the corner of the room can judge you right back. Why aren't you recycling more? Eat healthier food, fatso! People are dying and you're just watching television! You make us sick!
Anyway, back to Shipwrecked for a moment, where aggressive Bint #1 has just screamed in the face of Thug #1 in the rudest way possible; "who are you to tell me I don't have manners?"
I love to judge strangers.
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