The makers of Big Brother have taken inspiration from more than one Orwellian novel
Like Winston Smith with his face forced into the rat cage, I have learnt to love Big Brother. Its utter cynicism and grandmaster strategy has revealed the true ugliness of the human spirit, layer by layer - and there's more to come. Unless the authorities - fearful of our pristine image abroad - step in and halt the moral striptease, we'll be witnessing the very essence of evil by the weekend. I can't wait.
The perceived racial abusing of "Sherpa", "Sheepa" - Shilpa by the she-wolves of the SS - started as a peevish reaction to beauty by non- and lesser beauty, and has become racial in the way that arguments become personal, and the weak use whatever weapons they can. A bitch fight has boiled over to become a class war and escalated into a race war. Didn't it start over the correct oven time to roast a chicken?
Watching the cro-mag-featured washerwomen and the "dreaming of a semi" footballer's wife work themselves into a lather of hatred, while using their hilariously limited intellectual capacities to justify it, is as good a piece of social television as Cathy Come Home. Big Brother has become Animal Farm, and there are no prizes for guessing which one is Napoleon the Pig.
Of course, it probably won't get much worse, as there appear to be a few sensible older heads in the house, and Big Brother is watching. But if plans to parachute the BNP Ballerina into the house are true, there could be fireworks yet.
My own personal hope is that Shilpa, Jermaine, H and Cleo walk out, and are replaced by a pack of Bengal tigers and a basket of king cobras. Oh, and perhaps a crocodile and some scorpions as well.
