As much as i'd love to think they were just hammering more nails into their own career-coffins, i don't think they did know about Dirk's dad. Still total beeayatches today though.
Do you lot read Charlie Brooker in the Guardian? Sure you do but i just thought this was worth copying for your delectation; Genius, i reckon, though obviously not up to date!
Charlie Brooker's screen burn
Charlie Brooker
Saturday January 20, 2007
The Guardian
As per tradition, whatever I write about Celebrity Big Brother (daily, C4) on a Tuesday turns out not to be true come the time it's printed on a Saturday. Further proof that traditional print journalism is doomed. By the year 2015 all newspaper articles will be delivered to your cerebral cortex via wireless connection the moment they're written. Apart from Richard Littlejohn's columns, because he won't be writing them any more. Instead he'll scrape a living masturbating for pennies in abandoned shop doorways. I hope.
Article continues
Anyway, last week I described the current Celebrity Big Brother as "a grinding, boring mess", just before Leo Sayer livened things up immensely by turning into an enraged fusion of Alan Partridge and Derek-and-Clive-era Dudley Moore, then throwing a series of increasingly spectacular tantrums which culminated in the first proper "breakout" the series has seen. In another weird first, we were shown plenty of footage of him outside the house, bickering with producers and tussling with security guards like a protestor at the Downing Street gates. This is an alarming development - events outside the Big Brother walls aren't usually included in the highlights show, and lifting the "fog of war" in this way raises the spectre of an endless, access-all-areas edition that follows escaping housemates wherever they run, like a fox hunt, shooting them in the thigh with a dart gun each time they get too far from the lens.
Following Leo's disgruntled exit, the remaining housemates decided to put on a brave face in the traditional fashion; ie forming two distinct groups and learning to loathe one another. At the time of writing, Jade, Jo and Danielle - collectively, the world's thickest coven - are relentlessly haranguing blameless Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty over an endless series of imaginary crimes, thereby prompting over 200 viewers to complain to Ofcom about alleged racism in the show.
I don't think they're racist, just unbelievably dumb. They're motivated by an intense, aching jealousy they're simply too stupid to process. After all, Shilpa is 20 times more successful than any of them, not to mention 400 times more beautiful. When you're a go-nowhere tit-flasher, a washed-up singer or a famous dunce, that's bound to rankle, especially since Shetty's also more intelligent, dignified, patient and likable than you could ever, ever be.
There's a certain grim amusement to be had, watching the angry trio stropping about with faces like thunder, steadily dismantling their own careers, but equally, there's something profoundly embarrassing about having this lot representing Britain to a disarmingly gracious group of overseas visitors - the aforementioned Shilpa, plus sweetly gentle Jermaine and dry, debonair Dirk. This is humiliation on a national scale.
Mind you, dense as Jade, Jo and Danielle clearly are, even they're eclipsed by the staggeringly dim-witted Jack, a man so thick he'd have to study hard for six months just to make it to the level of "vegetable". A potato could beat him at noughts and crosses - assuming he could work out how to hold a pencil and make marks on the paper in the first place, which is doubtful. He doesn't contribute to the house, but slowly subtracts from it; moping, blinking, frowning at words of more than one letter, even frowning at noises that sound like they might be words (if the door to the diary room creaks when it opens, he gets a bit angry, thinking he's just heard yet another word he doesn't understand and vat ain't fair innit). And on the rare occasions when he opens his mouth to speak, he sounds like a leaden 10-year-old reading lines off a card.