iOS app Android app More

Featuring fresh takes and real-time analysis from HuffPost's signature lineup of contributors
Tallulah Morehead

Tallulah Morehead

GET UPDATES FROM Tallulah Morehead

Survivor 22: Rerun Island: Rice Wars, Episode 10: A New Dope

Posted: 04/21/11 03:38 PM ET

We began the 10th episode of Survivor: Zombie Island on Zombie Island. Matt, aka Dr. Jesus, has been out there alone so much, he's now talking out loud to a man who has been dead since the days of the Emperor Tiberius. It's a measure of how much slack we cut the religiously deluded that, were he talking to Napoleon or Caligula or Princess Ozma, we'd all agree he was insane, and lock him in a padded room, shot full of drugs. But because the 2000-years-dead person he thinks he's talking to is "Jesus," we just say: "He's praying. Isn't it adorable? Let's put it on CBS." No, he's talking to a long, long dead person. (assuming this Jesus person ever lived at all, of which there is no actual evidence.) Dr. Jesus has lost the last marble he had. (An aggie. Damn!)

And also, Dr. Jesus is tired of playing Survivor, and wants to go home. He's making a Quitter Prayer. Instead of Jesus, he should be praying to last season's NaOnka, aka Beelzebimbo, the Goddess of Quitters. "I'm putting my trust and my faith in you, Lord Jesus, because, you know, you know how much I want out of this game. [A million dollars? That's how much the others want out of it. And not only does he put the surfer/valley girl place-holder phrase "you know" into his speeches to his savior, but he uses it just before using "you know" correctly.] I want nothing to do with it, Lord, but if you want me to stay in it, God, I will. I will fight." Oh boy. Where to start?

1. Is he talking to "Jesus" or to "God"? They're two different imaginary people, father and son. Make up your mind whom you're chatting with, Doc, or people will think you're making it all up.

2. If you want out of it, why are you there? It's not prison, or Catholic school. You can just leave. Ask Beelzebimbo.

3. If you wanted to go home, why didn't you just throw a duel? You're the one keeping you there.

4. If you truly believe your god and his son with the see-through palms created and run the whole entire universe, a vast cosmos encompassing billions of billions of galaxies, each containing hundreds of thousands of stars, each with solar systems, and possibly life here and there on certain planets in the right orbits, not to mention the five billion people on this rock, some of whom are currently engaged in wars, why on earth would you think such a god or such a Jesus would give a rat's ass (a Survivor delicacy) one way or the other whether you are on a TV game show or not? It's not important. You're not important!

5. Christianity endlessly says it's a religion of peace, which would then be against fighting. (That's okay, Doc. No one takes a Christian seriously when they say they believe in peace and turning the other cheek, since they have a two-millennia-long history of saying that, and then slaughtering you as soon as you turn your back, as a "mercy.")

6. Even if you lose the "duel," you'll still be on the jury. Just going out and home is no longer a playing option. You should have lost sooner.

This prayer wasn't over yet, though it was already the longest prayer I've had to listen to since I moved out of my mother's home, many decades ago. "I'm trying to think how I'm gonna pull myself up by my bootstraps and keep my sanity. [You mean regain your sanity, because that ship sailed years ago.] I want to show your glory to everyone, Lord, [No point to doing that. CBS will just blur it out anyway, kid. Keep your glory in your pants.] but I'm just such a broken man right now." I didn't think it was possible for me to like this boob less than I do, but that was before I started hearing him whining to Jesus about being where he's chosen to be. Now I know why his god and Jesus keep sending him to Zombie Island, to punish him for annoying Them with his endless whining and self-pity.

Jeff Probst in his Survivor blog, keeps calling Dr. Jesus "likeable." He must be watching a different show than the one I'm looking at, because there is nothing likeable about this idiot. I've gotten to the point where he can keep his shirt on for all I care. Yes, his whining prayers are such a turn-off, they've even canceled out his third-place sex appeal. (After, way after, Grant and Mike) Now he ranks behind Mansweater in sex appeal, and Mansweater is physically repulsive, though his shoulders are great for scouring out burnt-or-baked-on foods out of cooking pots.

Doc prayed more, but I could not stand another syllable, and hit "fast-forward." Palin's Pimp, all I or anyone else has to do is press this "1" button twice, and Mr. Praying is gone, and American Idol is on. If you want to compete against a show that is still, inexplicably, the number one show on American network TV, lose the praying. If I wanted to watch a religious channel, I'd just shoot myself.

When David arrived on Zombie Island after Mike, Dr. Jesus's alleged mind was "blown." (It threw all its rods years ago.) He's shocked, shocked that the strongest members of the minority tribe are being systematically voted out one after the other, the same thing many of you have been complaining in the comments column about being too predictable. (Like it's my fault! Complain to Palin's Pimp.) He'd be shocked to find gambling going on at Rick's in Casablanca. What did he think? That Rob would vote himself out? I'll bet every morning, Dr. Jesus's mind is blown when the sun rises in the east. "Whoa, dude, the sun rose in the same place just yesterday! What are the odds on the sun rising from the same spot two days in a row? This is insane! My mind is blown! I gotta call Mom and tell her." He's like a Cheech & Chong movie, with Christianity instead of marijuana. (Christianity being a far more dangerous drug. Don't pray and drive!)

The semantic problem of calling a three-person competition a "duel" came up (It's been bothering me also), and they tried to come up with a name for a three-handed duel, settling on "Truel," which isn't it either. Duel may be the wrong word, but at least it is a word. I think what we have here is a Tri-Wizard Tournament, only this time, with these three young men all sleeping together, it's The Goblet of Fire Island.

Back at Camp Winnie-the-Pooh (Rob named the camp after one of his wife's stuffed animals. We're lucky it's not Camp Buzzing Wand of Joy.), Steve, who at the end of last week's episode was also whining about quitting, is all happy again, with fish in his belly, and Dave kicked out instead of him. Why, if Steve, who has yet to win anything at all, can just win Immunity today, and every other time it's up for grabs, he might even stay in the game, but I wouldn't bet money on it.

Phillip, aka Big Chief Featherbrain, was chanting in tongues while making himself a feathered headdress. This is Standard Operating Procedure for former federal agents - when they're certifiably insane. I'll give him props for creativity; he's always finding new ways to be utterly annoying. The man is part Cherokee, he says, descended from Chief Red Herring. The Cherokees are saying: "Leave us out of this. Does he look like a Cherokee?"

Wearing his new, deluxe, two-feather headdress, Chief Featherbrain clearly believes he looks awesome. He looks awesomely dorky, like the tallest two-year-old on earth.

Chief Featherbrain sat out on a rock above the sea, still chanting in tongues. As with Dr. Jesus over on Zombie Island (which isn't an island), Featherbrain appears to have cracked. He's hasn't just looked into The Abyss, he jumped in. He's in sanity-free-fall. If he gets any more deeply deranged, the Teabaggers will elect him to Congress. After all, he has a peacetime medal for portable toilets. (I accidentally typed "potable toilets." Now there's a thought!) That's the kind of man we need to get nothing done in Washington. (And frankly, doing nothing is a lot better than doing what the House of Representatives have been doing lately.)

Chief Featherbrain has abandoned the faith of his Cherokee ancestors. (Which I would think would stop the visits from Great-Great-Grandpa Red Herring.) He said: "When I got into Buddhism, one of the things that you learn is that your spirit is interconnected to every single living thing." No, that's one of the things you're told. There's a difference. If I tell you the sun is a ball of earwax, you have not learned that the sun is a ball of earwax; you've simply been told a lie. If you're dumb enough to believe it, you have still not learned anything, but I've learned what an easy mark you are. Now about this property in Florida...

And frankly, speaking as a living thing myself, under no circumstances do I want to be "connected" to Chief Featherbrain's alleged spirit, or any other part of him. I wouldn't mind connecting with Grant though.

As if I hadn't already had more religion in the show's first five minutes than I normally get in a decade, now Chief Featherbrain is lecturing me on Buddhism. I thought he was a Samurai last week. He mentioned "Your spirit [Leave my spirit out of this!] connects with every single living thing, including the Tathagatagarbha [I had to look it up, just to find out how to spell it, only then to discover he'd mispronounced it, omitting the last couple of syllables, though it's an easy word to get lost in.] which you might call God, or Allah, or Buddha." Or I might not. And though I don't pretend to know squat about Buddhism, and am very content to remain ignorant on the subject, I do know that Buddhism's defining feature is it has no deity, no god, so whatever Tutankhamun, or whatever the gibberish Featherbrain was spilling is, it ain't God, nor Allah.

(According to the unimpeachable source Wikipedia, Tathagatagarbha is a "spiritual essence present in all beings and phenomena." Oh! It's "The Force"! Go near religion, and the nonsense just piles up. People make livings wading through this mind-muck. Too much of this gobbledygook and you'll end up on a rock by the sea, with feathers stuck in your scalp, making a gibbering jack-ass of yourself on national TV.)

Chief Featherbrain wasn't done, though I was suddenly very curious as to what Scott McCreery was going to sing for "Music of the 21st Century Week" over on American Idol. (For that show's regular viewers, that's an Oldies Week. And actually, Scott makes every song sound identical, or else he's been singing the same song all season.) Seriously, Palin's Pimp, I don't watch Survivor, or ANYTHING, to be lectured on religion. I swear, the only reason I didn't turn the show off then was that I had to write this piece for you, my loyal readers. I hope you all appreciate the torture I've endured for your sakes. By this point, I was seriously bored. Charlie Sheen's Flaming Torpedo of Idiocy tour was looking more entertaining than this, and saner.

Chief Featherbrain: "I did a meditation this morning. I was focusing on my ancestors. [I hear a chorus of ghostly voices, echoing across the crags, saying: "Leave us out of this!" in Cherokee.] You know, I had a premonition through my grandfather, Jessum Herring..." Grandfather? Last week, Chief Red Herring was his "great-great grandfather." How did he lose two generations? I never get my grandparents confused with my great-great grandparents, possibly because I knew all of my grandparents personally, while all my great-great grandparents died well before my parents were born. In any event, none of them ever come calling after they died to clue me in on what will happen on Survivor, or even to impart important information.

Why can't he have dry mouth now? Why did he get "treatment"? Why won't CBS stop ramming the insane ravings of the stupid and the credulous down my face?

Well Featherbrain needed to go get involved in something stupid, so he was off to bitch to Rob and his friends that Julie was eating too much rice. "Waa, waa," said the baby. She had "seven and a half cups!" Isn't that a song in The Pajama Game? Man, I wish I was watching The Pajama Game instead of this show.

Now the rice Julie was eating was Viva Zapata's rice. And given there are only three of them left, why shouldn't she eat it? But Featherbrain wasn't having it, so his solution was exactly what you expect from a former federal agent, Buddhist, and man of constantly arrogantly announced "integrity." He stole some of Viva Zapata's rice, deciding that "all rice here belongs to all of us."

Wait a minute. That's communism! So this super-patriot, this winner of America's highest peacetime toilet-moving medal, this man who speaks in red, white, and blue - is a communist! He's also a thief. Thievery is allowed on Survivor, as witness Rupert and the other tribe's shoes, but as honorable behavior goes, which he constantly, self-righteously, and arrogantly proclaims all his behavior to be, it doesn't register at all.

So Big Chief Featherbrain is an idiot, a thief, a commie, and a hypocrite. Plus his grandfather is also his great-great grandfather. That's even more twisted than the Mormons! Oedipus Rex had a more-normal family, and his daughter was his sister and his son was his brother. No wonder he's like that. He's so inbred, he probably only has about three chromosomes.

Rob: "Phillip's da rice police." The police aren't supposed to be thieves, even in Chicago.

Big Chief Featherbrain: "I'm now watching the Zapatera like a lion." Actually, if Chief Featherbrain knew anything about lions, he'd know that they spend most of their time napping. In any event, it's Viva Zapata that should be watching him, because he's the thief.

Zombie Island "Truel" For Redemption: One of my commenters last week suggested it would be fun if they didn't let the tribes know who won the duels, but just let them sweat out wondering who would eventually reappear in their midst. I think that was an excellent suggestion, but Palin's Pimp ignored it, and everyone was invited to witness The Tri-Doofus Tournament. All I wanted to know was who was giving the benediction. I said a silent prayer that there would be no praying. (And that Dr. Jesus would lose. Go Mike!)

Jeff kept calling it a duel. Jeff, "duo" means two. When three people are competing, it's not a duel, and this isn't an island.

Dr. Jesus: "I never knew that strangers could hurt me so deeply." I see our med student has never been mugged. There was something burning behind Dr. Jesus, as smoke was rising behind him as he blathered. He looked like his pants were on fire, though I don't think he was lying. I guess he's got a fire down below.

This was the House of Cards challenge we've seen before. The players had 150 wooden tiles to build a tower of cards (The Deck Tower!) to a height of 8 feet. Since the tiles were not ceramic, they were not required to then smash them. Really, someone on this show's staff has a vendetta against ceramic tile, as I've seen more tile destroyed during this season's Survivor than I did when Pickfair was demolished.

But one odd thing: only one player would lose, and go to the jury. Two would survive. Go Mike and David!

This was a time when I was grateful for TV editing. Can you imagine how tedious this was to watch live? It must have taken forever. Good thing there was no breeze.

Mike and Dr. Jesus won. I really wanted to toss a spitball at Dr. Jesus's stack. Not so much that I like David, but I'd prefer he stayed around than the Sky Pilot. At least Mike came in first.

You'd think a defense lawyer would be better at building a house of cards; it's how you construct a defense for a guilty client.

David: "I saw Redemption Island as a chance to further myself in the game. Unfortunately, - ah - my plan didn't work as well as I would like for it to have." Didn't work as well as I would like? It was a total failure. It's like the designer of the Titanic saying: "That's not quite what I had in mind, close, but not there yet. Next ship I build, I want to at least get far enough to see New York before it sinks." (I was going to use the Hindenburg for that joke, but last Friday was the 99th anniversary of the Titanic sinking.)

Dr. Jesus's Flaming Torpedo of Faith Tour was back on, unfortunately: "God's continued to give me the strength, day after day. He's given me new hope, and, um, and if it's His will then I'll continue to win, and try to take Rob out." Doc, Rob is married. And God damn it, God, butt out! Go make a supernova. Go depose Qadaffhi. Go interfere on American Idol. Go create life on Mars. Go eradicate the Teabaggers. Do something useful. I now know that Dr. Jesus's imaginary god, who is apparently obsessed with who will win Survivor, and is trying to fix the game, is only keeping Dr. Jesus around longer to annoy me personally. All of this show was cosmically created and manipulated for one divine goal alone, the greater annoyance of me.

Along with Dr. Jesus's god, Buddha, and Tathagatagarbha all being excessively interested in Survivor: Zombie Island, now it turned out that The Rice God (Snapcracklepopia) was watching also, and decided to smite Chief Featherbrian's rice to punish the theft of rice, and to punish them for Gay Marriage. (According to the religious big mouthes, whenever anything bad happens to anyone, it's punishment for Gay Marriage.) Snapcracklepopia is an Old Testament type, who visits the sins of one on all, so the Up Tempo tribe discovered that their rice container was infested with maggots and mold, like Dick Cheney, only not so disgusting. They dumped all their rice out on a blanket and hand-picked the maggots and the moldy rice out. But then, they had nowhere to put their rice. I'd like to tell them where they could put their rice, but this is a family column.

Andrea-or-Ashley asked Steve if they could put their rice in Viva Zapata's rice jar, and make it a communist rice jar. Steve, a good Amurrican, said no. Steve, you'd be getting your own rice back, or haven't you noticed your dropping rice levels?

"It's an eye-opener to see individuals behave the way they are currently behaving, even in a, quote, game Survivor environment," said the thief who stole their rice, ungrammatically. That's the black hole at the center of the universe calling a snow bank black.

Chief Featherbrain tried to argue Steve and Julie into it. Steve tabled it until he could talk to the mysteriously absent Mansweater. (He was out having his body fur permed.) Featherbrain was inching closer to martial law, like any Fed stymied by someone having the temerity to assert their rights: "Look, you guys aren't being reasonable." Don't you love being lectured on reasonableness by a thief wearing feathers stuck on his head?

Featherbrain: "It's not a Zapatera decision." Oh yes it is, but here comes the Cossack. "It's our rice. Anyway, I don't want to have this argument. [Tough.] Once the tribes merged, only the rewards are separate. That's the way it's done." Chief Featherbrain is now pulling Survivor rules out of his fuchsia butt. Well there's plenty of room.

Chief Featherbrain announced he would steal their jar if they didn't do as he wanted. He's got a strong streak of extremely spoiled child to him, but then, nothing about Featherbrain except his withered old, repulsive-but-always-on-display body suggests anyone older than five. And a spoiled five at that, more spoiled than his rice. What would Tathagatagarbha do?

Chief Featherbrain said: "I'm a very reasonable person to deal with," as he made unilateral threats, for daring to deny his request, to the people from whom he was stealing.

Steve: "You're not reasonable at all, dude. You're a lunatic." (Yes, a 51 year old man just called a 52 year old man "Dude." These guys are not Hurley. How I wish one of them was.)

Chief Featherbrain: "I know I am." We all know you are, but you just said you were reasonable two seconds ago! Which is it, Dumb Ass? You can be one or the other, but not both. Reality heavily favors "lunatic."

Having no conceivable moral ground to challenge Viva Zapata's ownership of their own rice container, from which he had been stealing, and desperate to maintain his constant pretense of moral superiority (difficult for a thief), Chief Featherbrain played the race card, the sure and certain last ditch play of the desperate and the pathetic: "Any time somebody of, uh, uh, uh, of, uh, uh, my color [Red? Him having Cherokee grandfather/great-great grandfather and all] gets up in one of your faces ["Faces"? Steve only has one, unlike Chief Ricethief.] then you feel like I'm a lunatic, I'm crazy." There is rampant racism on display here all right, Chief Ricethief's. Accusing a white man of finding him a lunatic only because he's a Cherokee is very racist, against whites. Because, he is a lunatic! Just because I'm insane, you call me crazy! You're a racist!

Grant, who must be at least partly black (He didn't get that hair from Norway), amazed: "He just brought in the race card?"

Steve: "So now you're' making this a black thing?" Steve, he's Cherokee, and a commie. It's a red thing.

Chief Ricethief: "Yeah. I think that's what this is all about between you and me. You're the one raising the issue, calling me a lunatic." Ricethief, that's a sanity issue, not a race issue. And you are a lunatic. Now everyone present from both tribes were being appalled by Chief Ricethief, his cheap play of the race card being an insult to all true victims of racism.

And he found new depths of his lunacy: "Remember, I'm the chief of counter-intelligence." Well, he is a chief, and he doesn't have intelligence; he has counter-intelligence, i.e., stupidity, so maybe he's right.

Chief Ricethief: "He feels like, ah, he's better than me," He is better than you. My last dog, when it had been dead for three weeks, was better than you. "And I think it has some slight racial undertones to it." Chiefy, if Frosty the Snowman had said to Steve what you did, he'd call him a lunatic too. You are nuts, and it has nothing to do with race, all to do with sanity.

Chief Ricethief: "I'm like a lot of black men ["No he's not!" screamed every sane black man on earth] We're prepared to self-destruct at any moment." Okay, here we have a clearly racist statement, insulting to all black men. Who said it? Chief Ricethief.

Steve was trying to explain what went on to Mansweater when he returned from the body hair salon, and Chief Ricethief "helped."

Steve: "He took it to black-and-white, like we were having some racial issue or something."

Chief Ricethief: "I just noticed that every single time I bring - I make an issue with the people of the former Zappa - Zapatella tribe [Who?] suddenly a guy who is able to become a federal agent in three separate agencies..." Even as Julie was saying "I don't wanna hear it," Steve won my heart and made me roar with laughter by snapping to attention and saluting. Chief Ricethief is just never going to get that his endless flogging of his conviction that he's a former federal agent does not now, and never will, cut any ice with anyone but himself. They're not impressed. I'm not impressed. The feds are not impressed. No one is impressed. What we're impressed by is not what he was, but what he is, which is a lunatic.

Steve just walked off and left Chief Ricethief yelling his idiocy at his back, not that that stopped him: "Some white folks like to take a black man and make him crazy." That may well be true, but in Ricethief's case, he is crazy. All Steve has done is notice it.

So Ricethief turned up the fire. CBS bleeped out the word Ricethief added to his sentence now, when he said that every time he makes an argument, someone says: "That's nigga's crazy." No one said that. Only Chief Ricethief himself said it. (Although I did say "That Cherokee's nuts!") I was waiting for "If the glove don't fit, you must acquit."

Steve told Rob that the Viva Zapatans were all voting for Chief Ricethief tomorrow, in hopes that Rob would let his people also vote the idiot out. Rob grinned, undoubtedly thinking that, if it comes down now to he or Ricethief at Final Tribal Council, the jury would vote Rob the money even if he'd raped all of them. The crazier Chief Ricethief gets, the more Rob wants to keep him.

Steve's description of the Chief: "Zero social skills. I think he's unstable" Gee, do you think? I've seen more gracious and reasonable wolverines. It was hilarious to see Chief Ricethief rant and rave like a lunatic about how he wasn't a lunatic, it was all racism, as he strutted off in high dudgeon, a 53 year old man wearing only a feathered headdress and sagging fuchsia panties. (Though he's added a loincloth in front, since the panties are now too large to contain his little bits of junk.) He was the very textbook image of sane and balanced. I wonder if the home will let him out on a day pass for the reunion show.

Julie speculated that his insanity was what put the "former" in "former federal agent." Julie dear, we were saying that here weeks ago. Nice that you've caught up with the rest of us.

Even Rob was wavering. He's cool with Chief Ricethief making the other tribe want to kill him, but the race card and the N-word had turned off Rob's tribe also. Grant was certainly and rightfully offended, and Ashley-or-Andrea said quite simply: "I'd still rather die than keep him around, though." I wouldn't take it that far. Ricethief is all things obnoxious and crazy, but he's not worth dying about.

Maybe if the rice hadn't been white rice. The white rice is always puttin' the Cherokee down. It's not racism; it's ricism!

Immunity Challenge: Chief Ricethief, perhaps you should consider winning immunity this time, because hating you is uniting the Winnie-the-Pooh tribe.

You all know how I hate puzzles in challenges, as you get no sense of their progress on TV. There's a reason why there's never been a TV game show about assembling jigsaw puzzles. Well this challenge had two rounds, and each involved solving a jigsaw puzzle. Oh well, it's better than watching praying.

Wait a minute! Jigsaw puzzles? That's racist! This challenge is a subtle insult to Chief Ricethief!

The first part involved running around in a circle to unscrew a round puzzle frame. It's designed to make you dizzy, so it was no surprise that Andrea-or-Ashley, a truly dizzy blond, finished it first. (Truly dizzy. I have no idea if her blondness is "true" or not. Haven't seen if the curtains match the drapes.)

Rob, the puzzlemaster, finished the smaller puzzle first. Chief Ricethief announced he had the puzzle done. Well, he had all the pieces in the frame, but they're supposed to be assembled into one layer, fitted together, and his was a two-layer puzzle. Jeff said no to his solution, another white man puttin' the Cherokee down. Ricethief was eliminated in the first round. Clearly it was rigged to favor the white man, even though Grant made it to round two.

Since it was a two-jigsaw puzzle challenge. Of course Rob won immunity. Why wasn't it a challenge Chief Ricethief could win, like food larceny, competitive mad raving, rain dancing with the stars, panties modeling, or annoying for points? It was obviously rigged to favor the white man over the red man. It was ricist!

Well there is no suspense whom Julie, Steve, and Mansweater will be voting for. It's a white plot to vote out the red man! The suspense is, will Up Tempo vote out a Zapatan, or will Rob let his white people (and Grant) gang up on the red man and vote him out. Will the original plan go forth, or will the tribe's inherent ricism send home an army non-war-veteran with an honorable record of peacetime toilet transporting?

Julie did the first truly interesting and funny thing she's done all season. She took a leaf from Russell's playbook, and stole and buried Chief Ricethief's pants! Now all he has to wear are his fuchsia panties! She's now Firechief Pantsthief! Imagine a white woman stealing the red man's pants.

No one would admit it when the Ricethief asked who stole his pants. (Actually a bathing suit, but "Firechief Swimming Trunks Thief" is just too prolix.)

Chief Ricethief: "They must-a just grew legs and walked away on their own." They're pants. They come with legs.

Chief Ricethief, realizing someone stole his pants, and that they weren't going to 'fess up either, despite being questioned by a former federal agent who is a human lie detector, said he could "play that game too." Actually, he started that game when he stole their rice.

Ricethief: "I hope my shorts come up tonight. [Did he say "come up" or "ride up"? Odd thing for a man to want.] If they don't come up tonight, it's going to get real interesting around here." I hope so, because this has not been my favorite episode this season. "I don't really threaten people," said Ricethief, threateningly.

So Rob was left to decide whether or not to hold to the plan, or to rid the tribe of it's insane, idiotic, blowhard, former federal agent, comie, rice thief, and ricist. "One man should not have this much power on an island," said Rob, "but I'm grateful that I do." Where should he have this much power? And you're not on an island. Nicaragua is an isthmus.

Tribal Council: Fasten your seat belts; it's going to be a bumpy council.

Right off, the human lie detector told Jeff that Steve stole his clothes. It was Julie. One hundred percent certain; one hundred percent wrong. He is a former federal agent!

Steve described the Rice War to Jeff, who looked genuinely shocked that Chief Ricethief had used the N-word. I can't think why. It's been clear to Jeff for sometime that whoever passed Chief Ricethief on the show's psychological evaluation needs to find another line of work.

Chief Ricethief, who always gets indignant whenever someone interrupts him, interrupted, and in fact, announced he was interrupting Julie and Steve's description of the Rice War, so he could make idiot statements like: "He likes to call me crazy whenever I make a rational argument to him." I wonder if that's true. I've never heard Chief Ricethief make a rational argument, so I couldn't say. Steve does call him crazy when he says and does crazy stuff, which is pretty much everything he does and says."

Chief Ricethief: "Richard Pryor made a most famous comedy album of all time." Richard Pryor made Stan Freberg Presents the United States of America? That will be news to Stan. What a massive change of comedy style! And how uncharacteristically modest of Pryor to let Stan take 100% of the credit, and how unlike Stan to take credit for another's work.

Chief Ricethief to Jeff: "Do you know what it's like to be a woman?"

Jeff: "I don't." Damn! I just lost $5. Jeff, I'd love to help you find out. We'll put you in a wig, a dress, some fuchsia panties, and cheap jewelry, and then have Charlie Sheen scream at you, degrade you in an all-hooker five-way, you bring the "blow," trash the suite while you cower in a closet with Chief Ricethief, and then toss you out on the street with cab fare, while Republican politicians force you to have babies. You'll love it. You'll be in drag 24/7 by Christmas.

Chief Ricethief talked about how a white man had talked degradingly to his father in a store around 45 years ago. Okay. I'll accept that that is undoubtedly true. Was that man Steve, who is a year younger than Chief Ricethief? If not, and your logic is: a white man spoke degradingly to your father for racist reasons. Probably other white men did too from time to time. Steve called you crazy, which you are. Steve is white. Therefore, ipso facto, Steve is a racist secretly thinking the N-word at you. That assumption is based wholly on Steve's race. Okay. Houston, we have found racism, but it's residing in Chief Ricethief.

Oh and Ricethief, I'll bet your dad paid for the food he took from the store. How proud will he be of his son the food thief?

Chief Ricethief complained about the racism he felt he perceived as a federal agent. Well, there was a time when the FBI was wildly racist, but then J. Edgar Hoover died. (A great day for America when that evil old drag queen croaked. I had a party. If it hadn't been 3000 miles away, I'd have held a formal dance on his grave.)

Steve pointed out that during his years playing on the Raiders, whites were the minority on the team, and it was never a problem. But it's so much easier to say: "You're racist," than to realize: "I'm friggin' bug nuts crazy."

Natalie felt for Chief Ricethief: "Because I don't know what it's like to be an African-American man." And don't forget Cherokee! Remember great native-American comedian (and my friend) Charlie Hill's famous comedy album, That Redskin's Crazy!? Oh wait. He hasn't done that yet. Well at least Natalie does know what it's like to be a woman, or will when she grows up.

Julie fessed up to stealing the Chief's pants. It was worth it for his certainty that it was Steve to be proved wrong. And she wouldn't say where she had buried them. (Oh how funny it would have been if, in burying those pants, she'd found an immunity idol.)

For fans of Mansweater's spelling, his ballot said "PHILE". Phile that under "Misspelled." As he showed his ballot, he said: "Phillip, I hope you have a great night on 'dempshun island in yer underwear and yer two feathers."

When Chief Ricethief walked out to vote in his saggy underwear now, 27 days in, too large to contain him, no one knew where to look. Even Richard Hatch would have suggested he wear something a little less revealing, given what he reveals.

Chief Ricethief voted for Julie. That'll teach her to steal! Oh wait. The first thief was Chief Ricethief. Such a hypocrite.

Rob, wearing his Immunity necklace, didn't play his Hidden Immunity Idol, which no one but he knows he has. That's how it's played, folks. You get an idol, keep your mouth closed!

Rob held to his plan, and Julie was voted out. Her parting words to Chief Ricethief: "Guess you're not gonna ever find your shorts." Well, maybe if she wins the "Truel," she'll tell him where they are when she returns. Yeah. That'll happen. She's such a whiz at challenges. Unlike last season's winner Fabio, who took a whiz at challenges. I hear it was a whiz of a whiz if ever a whiz there was.

I guess, in light of this discussion of "Crazy" equals "N-word," I should add that, though I have called Dr. Jesus crazy a number of times, I never meant nor implied that he was an N-word. I just meant he's an idiot.

Cheers darlings.

To read more of Tallulah Morehead, go to The Morehead, the Merrier, or buy her book, My Lush Life. Also, you can read Little Dougie's contributions to the newly published book Creatures of the Night That We Loved So Well: The TV Horror Hosts of Southern California by James Fetters.