Thursday 16 April 2015

Bear Grylls The Island (plus Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead and Geordie Shore) - yes, I've been watching telly

James has been studying hard for his GCSEs. I've been keeping my nose pressed to the screen of my PC trying to work. So, come evening, we like to veg out in front of something on the box. Okay, so we should probably be doing something more meaningful, like creating mosaics or meditating but hey...

I'm not mad on zombies but he lured me into watching The Walking Dead and we spent many happy evenings huddled under the snuggly throw.  Little rituals... shouting 'Away with you!' over the opening credits; singing along with the theme tune at the end waving our hands in suitable zombie fashion; seeing who could make the other jump at some unspecified moment in the middle of the show; muttering 'He's so dead'.  You know the kind of thing.


Now we have Game of Thrones of course, which is totally excellent.  One of those cases where the TV series is actually better than the books.  I'm waiting for Arya (my favourite) to start her assassin training (as you do).  James doesn't see the attraction - he just goes very quiet when Daenerys sulks onto the screen.


We part company on Geordie Shore.  I've tried but I just sit there slack-jawed.   So, last night, when he said he was looking forward to the TV slot, I winced.  'I'm not watching Geordie Shore,' I said. 'My eyes can't take it.'
'Noo,' he said.  'It's The Island.'
Have you seen this?  They (the proverbial They) dump two bunches of people (one group is all-women, the other all-men) onto remote Pacific islands and let them get on with it.  It sounds great in principle except these islands don't just have white sands and turquoise ocean, they also have dangerous rip-tides, tropical storms and a lot of poisonous wildlife.  It's not just the snakes and scorpions, the stone-fish and the stingrays - even the vegetation is out to get them.  Have you ever heard of the Death Apple?  The clue's in the name, right?

Anyhow, we watched it and already they're getting on my nerves.  This isn't like 10,000 BC (yes, we really do watch a lot of crap!) where they dumped people in Bulgaria in winter without even a knife between them.
This island is teeming with food - and yet they're all lying around limply starving.  I harumph and mutter darkly.
'What's the matter with them?'
'Come on, Mum. Would you do any better?'
'Well, yes actually, I think I would.'
We launch into a debate about survival skills.  James rolls his eyes.  He knows what was coming. And, yes, I spent a large part of my teens building shelters in forests or pitching tents on the sides of mountains.  I learnt how to track and trap, how to light a fire from nothing, how to keep (relatively) warm and dry.
'Be fair, Mum.  They haven't had any training in that stuff.'  Subtext: they weren't weirdo teenagers who skulked around the woods in their spare time.
But really, if you had even the faintest inkling, the slightest possibility that you were going to be left on an island to fend for yourself, wouldn't you at least learn how to fish?  And if you were a resourceful vegetarian wouldn't you figure out which plants were edible?  They've got yams, for pity's sake!  And coconuts!  And they're sharing out a roasted scorpion the size of a finger?  Pitiful!

Of course, the biggest problem they have is not battling the elements or the animals, but each other. Some guy left the island purely because another guy pissed him off.  Wha?  Then the other one left. Humans, eh?

Anyhow, I'm wondering if the women will do any better.  James says not - that they're in even worse shape than the guys.  Which is enormously annoying really.






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