<i>Big Brother 11</i>: No Joy in Mudville

I wouldn't allow Lydia, Natalie, Jessie, Russell, Chima, or Kevin, in my home without an armed escort, and this week they were all out to show just what horrible, and in Lydia's case, psychotic, people they are.
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Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;

But there is no joy in Mudville-- mighty Casey has struck out.
- Ernest Lawrence Thayer. Casey at the Bat, 1888.

Emperor Palpatwit, The Dork Lord of the Sith (You do realize what bodily excretion "Sith" is an anagram for, I hope. Because the unscrambled "Sith" is all that The Dork Lord is lord of.), is without question the most loathsome of this summer's Big Brother houseguests, but frankly, I wouldn't allow Lydia, Natalie, Jessie, Russell, Chima, or Kevin, in my home without an armed escort, and this week they were all out to show just what horrible, and in Lydia's case, dangerously psychotic, people they are.

When Palpatwit won Head of Household two weeks ago, along with his usual effeminate squealing and shrieking, as he jumped about, he pointed at his "wedding" ring on his finger which he'd stolen from Frodo, indicating his "Precious." I called him Gollum around the house all week. Well now I wish sincerely to apologize. That was a terrible thing to say about Gollum, who is not only nicer than Palpie, but undoubtedly smells better as well.

The Dork Lord had shouted: "Thank you, God." Palpie, God is watching So You Think You Can Dance. But it turns out that the self-styled "Smartest Person in the House" is religious. It's not just his thanking a make-believe deity who, if it existed, would have better things to do than run Big Brother; we caught him this week reading a Bible. I do hope we don't end up with another morass of praying this year, as happened last summer.

Big Brother's resident moron, Jordan, complaining about the Have-Not's beds, told us, "The bed is ha-ard. Your arm gets numb." What is she doing in that bed? Jordan dear, you're already dumb. You don't want to become blind also.

Last week we were treated to Russell haranguing Palpie with the promise that "You're going home next week." So just who was Jessie's actual target this week?

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

What did Casey do that made him the target of Jessie's wrath? I watched these shows over and over, trying to figure it out (Talk about a tiresome chore!), and I think I've found it. At one point, Casey made the mistake of saying, "Jessie ain't Superman." Oops.

The Reward Challenge was based on driving drunk, apparently Big Brother's idea of a common high school activity. Why am I not surprised Jordan didn't lose this one? If they really wanted to recreate high school, they would have killed off four of the houseguests in a post-prom car accident. The players wore "Beer Goggles," though they weren't blurry enough to make The Dork Lord look shagable. Chima, playing for The Brains, lost the challenge, but then, she was probably just waiting for her chauffeur to show up.

The brains' defeat was somewhat ruined by Palpatwit's screaming his adoration of cocktail weenies, one of the only three foods he'll be allowed to eat all week. (The others were cabbage and slop.) "I could eat [cocktail weenies] every day!" Palpie shrieked. Oh yes, he's "married." Poor Dr. Michelle. Stapled to full-of-herself Chima and the revolting Dork Lord, she's stuck being victimized along with them as a Have-Not. And America, remember this expression of love for you from the insufferable Chima: "America, you suck!"

We saw Kevin and Russell bonding in the hammock. What's that all about, Russell? Why are you coming on to Kevin? Frankly, you could do a lot better. Asked about his girl friends, Russell said, "I ran out." Huh? Kevin's been in a relationship for 9 years. This is wise on his part. He doesn't really have what I would call competitive looks.

But more disturbing still is the vicious romantic rivalry growing between Natalie and Lydia. They both want Jessie. Forget it, skanks; Jessie got Jessie first. In arguing with Natalie, Lydia said, "Talk till the cows come home," a particularly ill-chosen cliche.

Jessie revealed his nominees for eviction: Jordan and Dr. Michelle. Normally the Head of Household then makes a speech explaining why he chose whom he did. Jessie's nomination explanation speech, in its entirety, was "I nominated you Jordan, and you Michelle, for eviction this week. That's it." I was impressed. It's the longest he's ever spoken in his whole life about someone who wasn't him. Frankly, it's a miracle Jessie didn't nominate himself, simply because he's not aware of the existence of other people.

Lydia, expressing her infatuation with Musclehead, said, "I want to get them on the Team Jessie Bandwagon." The Team Jessie Bandwagon has only one seat, and it's taken.

In a game of Truth or Dare (Those poor houseguests do get bored!), Kevin was dared to cop a 10 second cuddle with Jessie. Oddly, he didn't have to be talked into it. Why doesn't Jessie lock his door when he sleeps?

Palpatwit was dared to hug Casey. Somehow, Casey didn't vomit, but CBS didn't show us Casey later on in the shower, frantically scrubbing himself, crying "Unclean! Unclean! Here's the stench of Palpie still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand."

When Casey rightly complained about being made the butt of this joke, and about being touched by The Dork Lord, Russell said, "Everyone had their equal butt time." Why did we miss that?

Jessie's not any better than Jordan when it comes to math. When they were randomly drawing contestants for the Power of Veto competition, he said that Casey getting picked to play was "a one-in-ten chance." No Jessie, it was a three-in-eight chance.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped.
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

Before the POV competition, Casey said, "Well it doesn't matter who wins now." Oh Casey. How naive.

When Jordan learned that the mud pit erected for the POV competition was not intended for mud wrestling, she was disappointed! I hate to use a term like "White Trash," so let's just go with "Trash." If Jordan wasn't raised in a trailer park, it's only because she wasn't good enough for a trailer park.

But the POV competition did indeed involve rooting around in mud like hogs, right down to wearing pig snouts. Oh it was indeed Mudville in the Big Brother house this week. You'd think Casey would have taken the warning.

Casey darling, overconfidence is always a death wish on Big Brother. He foolishly thought it didn't matter who won; that he was safe. The idiot threw away the chance to win, and make himself safe, by keeping a margarita party prize instead of accumulating points, in the insane belief that if he threw them a party, they'd never vote him out.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shown;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"I'm feeling pretty safe" Casey said, as he took a mystery envelope which could easily have reduced his already-inadequate score still further. And so he was sentenced to wear the dreaded Banana Suit.

The sight of Casey, dressed as a giant banana, sitting around sucking on cigarettes, was genuinely surreal. I remember smoking bananas back in the 1960s. In fact, I've been called a "Banana Smoker" all my adult life, but this is the first time I've seen a banana smoking.

The Dork Lord's poker face, which is a delighted, smug grin that makes me want to punch him, tipped off the vindictive Lydia, who has turned out to be a mean, nasty piece of work, that it was Casey going to the plate instead of Palpie. When Casey heard about it, he went off and confronted Jessie about going back on the plan to evict Palpatwit.

Jessie admitted that Casey had given him something to think about it. However, thinking isn't something Jessie has much skill at, so he measured his muscles again instead. Jessie's idea of "Thinking" is "I think I'm awesome."

To the shock of no one, Dr. Michelle took herself off the block, and to the horror of all but Jessie, Natalie, and The Dork Lord, he put up Casey. Even brain dead Jordan was repulsed by The Dork Lord's smug grin. "The force must have been with me," said Palpatwit, using the hip, clever, ahead-of-the-curve expression of 1977, two years before he was born.

"I may not be the smartest crayon in the box," said Jordan, who apparently thinks crayons have intellects, which, compared to her, they do, "but I'm not that dumb!" Yes you are, darling. She also said, "I'm gonna win the next HOH," which was her mouth writing a check that shortly thereafter bounced.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.

"I looked around and I didn't see any outrage," said Casey, who apparently thanks a margarita party would make him everyone's best bud. Casey darling, houseguests are only outraged by their own evictions. But Kevin showed his support for Casey (a support that did not extend to actually voting to keep him in the house) by wearing a bright yellow hoodie that looked just like Casey's mandated banana suit. So much for the myth that all gay men dress well.

"I feel - Whooo! - splendiferous, awesome!" shrieked the Dork Lord in triumph. CBS, my TV cost a lot of money. Please stop trying to get me to throw a brick through my screen, as I feel the urge to do every time you show The Dork Lord being jubilant, joyous, smug, and generally behaving like the fat girl who just got asked to the prom by the football hero, an event that inevitably leads to an upturned bucket of pig's blood, and a hundred dead seniors lying in the ashes of the gymnasium. If The Dork Lady is truly not mythical, what sort of pathetic beast must she be?

Palpatwit, Jessie, and Natalie all being smug together. Live broadcasting of waterboarding would be more pleasant viewing.

A really creepy subplot in Thursday's show had Lydia sneaking into Jessie's bedroom while he's asleep, lying down beside him staring at him, and then sneaking off again before he wakes up. "I like to watch Jessie sleep," said Lydia, as though this sort of psychotic stalker-ish behavior was normal. I was waiting for her to add, And to imagine just where my butcher knife should go in first. Jessie, you have to start locking your bedroom door. Lydia is a psycho. This felt not so much like watching a TV show, as like watching "Exhibit A."

Lydia said, "Maybe Jessie's dreaming about baby unicorns, maybe he's dreaming about, I don't know, riding his motorcycle, but it'd be nice if he were dreaming about me!" Lydia, Jessie was dreaming about himself. If he'd been dreaming about you, he'd have woken up screaming like a little girl, or like Palpatwit running into Carrie Fisher on a public sidewalk. The Big Brother producers punctuated this overwhelmingly disturbing speech with Bernard Herrman's stabbing-in-the-shower music from Psycho. It was not a joke. "I really hope Jessie never makes me mad," continued Lydia, "Maybe while he's sleeping I could get revenge. There's a few things I could do; I just have to get 'creative'." Okay, Palpatwit needs evicting. What Lydia needs is involuntary commitment. Has anyone checked her fruit cellar for stuffed old ladies?

Talk about a pointless endeavor, we watched Casey hustling about, trying to talk various houseguests into voting to keep him in the house, lining up allies like Jeff. Jeff and Jordan are this summer's showmance. He's not going to vote to evict her.

We saw Jeff and Jordan bonding over such shared characteristics as their beauty, and their mutual inability to spell. We heard these exchanges:

Jordan: "Where you from again?"

Jessie: "Iowa."

Jordan: "Iowa, where's Iowa?"

***
Jeff: "I got it in the Vatican."

Jordan: "Where's 'The Vatican'?"

I was just waiting for Jordan to "write" them a love poem:
"Jeff and Jordan,
Sittin' in a tree,
K - I - S - K
- no wait,
C - I - S - S - I -Wait - Shut up!
K - I - L - L - I ...
Ah, how do you spell 'kissing'? Po'try is ha-ard!"

We were exposed to a bilious segment in which Jordan's mother and Jeff's parents purred over the idea of their two kids hooking up. Jordan is hideously stupid and Jeff is borderline illiterate, and brags that he doesn't read books. Just what the world needs; these two dimwits passing on their idiot genes to another generation.

Jordan's mother, "Jackie," bragged about how wonderful her empty-skulled daughter is, while I waited for someone, anyone, to ask her a pertinent question, like "Hey Jackie, why didn't you ever teach your hellspawn to tell time, or do simple arithmetic, or what '90 degree angle' means? Because you can't either? How can you be proud of raising the poster child for 'This Child Was Left Behind!'?" You know what's wrong with America? These people vote. (However, in the pictures of Jeff as a youth, I have to admit, he was even cuter back when he was flunking out of high school.)

Jordan's mom's defense of her daughter's disgraceful ignorance was, "That's just Jordan." I suppose it's too late to have custody revoked.

Well it finally came time for the eviction vote.

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Russell was the only person to keep his word to Casey and vote to oust horrifically stupid Jordan. Even Kevin went weasel on him. As usual, Casey hugged all the people who voted to evict him, except The Dork Lord, Jessie and Natalie. Casey did however speak his mind to Jessie as he left, something Casey was uniquely equipped to do, as one of the few houseguests to actually possess a mind: "Your word is mud, man. Period. Period. You shake a man's hand..."

At which point Natalie felt she had to jump in and defend Jessie for no reason except, of course, her pathetic crush on him, "You stabbed him in the back first." When did that happen? I've been watching the show very closely, and I never saw Casey stab anyone in the back. That's Jessie's, Palpie's, Lydia's and Natalie's tactic, but not Casey's

"What are you, his pit bull? Ain't nobody talking to you. Go make Jessie a sandwich" Casey snapped to the increasingly-deranged Natalie as he stepped out the door. Would that be a Natalie-Jessie-Lydia sandwich? (Talk about grilled cheese!) Natalie's over-the-top, motive-free tirade actually continued into her pre-taped goodbye message. "You talk all the time about how I'm an immature 18 year old. I'm actually 24." So in her mind, it's better to be an immature 24 year old, not to mention a liar? I'm missing her - ah - logic.

Natalie and Lydia are both seriously emotionally-disturbed women. Apparently, when CBS gives psychological tests to the Big Brother applicants, it's the ones who fail the tests that are put into the house.

Jeff did, however conclude his farewell speech to Casey with this bit of wisdom: "Walk out of here with your banana high, bro."

The episode concluded with the breaking up of the cliques, a twist everyone saw coming a mile down the highway, and with the announcement to us that America can vote to give one houseguest the power to overrule the HOH's nominations at the last second next week or the week after. America, PLEASE do not vote this power to The Dork Lord!

[Spoiler Alert]

They finished by holding an endurance contest to choose the next Head of Household. Even though this involved seeing these loathsome trolls, I mean houseguests, being spun and slammed into a padded giant "diploma," I still hate these endurance competitions, since the outcome is always still undecided when the show ends, and I had to go online to find out that the new HOH is my darling Russell, the sociopathic eye-candy. Since he still hates The Dork Lord, maybe next week will have a happier ending.

Cheers darlings.

To read more of Tallulah Morehead, go to
The Morehead the Merrier.

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