Survivor Samoa: A Russell in the Jungle

Jerk with a jerk face.

Uhh-waa-awweeah-waa-ah-wweeeaaaa! Ahem. Excuse me. That is my typing impression of the Survivor theme song. I am a musical prodigy, clearly. The reason I'm sing-typing that particular ditty? Because Survivor returned last night for its 19th (Jimminy Christmas...) season! Let's sit down on some logs, eat some bugs, and talk about what happened.

As (almost) always, we met our castaways as they paddled toward a violent shore, dressed in funny mismatched shipwreck clothes. This time around the land they were headed to was the storied and mysterious Samoa, a far-flung South Pacific island chain full of danger. Well, in this case as much danger as CBS would allow a group of 20 Americans to be subjected to on national television. Anyway! Once ashore, the group was divided up into two tribes, Galu and Foa Foa. At that point each group had to pick a leader based on body language. A tall, braided fellow named Russell S. was picked for Galu, and a big strapping artichoke of a man, fittingly named Mick, was chosen for Foa Foa. Then of course it was time for an immediate reward challenge (the winning team would receive a flint from the Prometheus-like Jeff Probst) that involved more assessment based on appearance. The leaders had to pick the best swimmer, the strongest, the most agile, and the smartest to compete in various stages of a relay challenge. Folks were picked (one kindly old fellow said he was surprised that an "Afro-American" was good at swimming... yeesh), and the challenge ensued.

Because said black fellow was, in fact, great at swimming, Foa Foa won the flint and there was much rejoicing. Then it was time to retreat to their camps to start building lean-tos and yelling at each other. There were your typical bossy nerdy alpha-male dudes who were rocket scientists and stuff and wanted to grunt and crotch-scratch about the best way to build an irrigation system. There was your typical gruff-type bulldog of a lady too. This time she is Galu member Shambo. Yes, Shambo. It's an old nickname from the Marines that stuck. Shambo is basically Susan Boyle wearing a gray Valerie from Josie and the Pussycats wig who likes to shake her head (and perhaps, like Valerie, her tambourine) and grumble about young people. So that's always a fun dynamic, though I hope ol' Shambs doesn't get too mad and make everyone upset with her, because I'd like to see her stick around for awhile.

The other breakout "star" of the season so far is a squat little devil named Russell H., who is a crazy person. Russell H. is convinced that this game is "easy to win" and that he will show America just how to do it. Oh, no, it's not some kindly tutorial he's doing. It's straight up look-at-me bragging. During the first night, he did several insane things that made me hate him and the dead dog he rode in on. First he told everyone some sob story about being in Hurricane Katrina and losing his beloved German Shepherd. They all felt bad for him, because that's how one feels when one is told a story about floods and drowned doggies. Except! Except except except... Russell H. wasn't in Hurricane Katrina. He was safe miles away counting his shekels. See, he's not a fireman like he told the folks either. He's a millionaire who owns an oil company. So figgies to him! Also during the night he decided to just mess with everyone's mind-bones by dumping out all the canteens and deviously making s'mores out of people's socks. What a jerk.

Russell H. also set about making alliances with "dumb bitches." Yeah, he doesn't have the highest opinion of women, which is unfortunately not uncommon on this show. So he walked around with each of them in private, his cold creepy blue eyes gleaming with evil, and I hated him even more. Then it was time for the immunity challenge. Galu had something to prove after their loss, and Foa Foa--overly-confident, obnoxious, be-Russell'd--wanted to keep up their winning streak. The challenge involved climbing over triangles and then solving a word puzzle. So everyone ran around, climbing over triangles, and then at the end, they solved the word puzzle. The Foa Foa folks folks just couldn't figure out the tricky word thing ("Without Winning There Is No Survival"), so they lost. They lost! Boo hoo. Galu galu.

I suspect, though, that Russell was kind of happy about this. He doesn't care if his team wins or loses, he just wants to win at all costs. I mean, if Foa Foa were to win another reward challenge, wouldn't he just go and set that reward on fire or pee on it or something? The jerk. Anyway, one of the "dumb bitches," a pierced girl named Marisa, wisely didn't trust Russell. Unwisely, she told him that. So that was it for old Russell H. He set about the work of making sure she got voted off. Though one or two other folks--namely a smahtie police lady from New Hampshah--didn't trust him either, Russell won a bunch of dimbulbs over and indeed, at Tribal Council Marisa was voted off.

Another asshole named Ben said "I hate that bitch" about Marisa at one point, which 1) Really dude? It's been a day. I hate Russell, but I can safely do that because I don't have to sleep next to him in the middle of the damn jungle. Maybe watch that tongue of yours. And 2) Sigh, more of that ugly, competitive misogyny that Survivor really needs to do something about.

So that's that! That was the episode. Russell won, which makes me want to slap someone upside the head. I can't wait to see him get his comeuppance. But will CBS indulge me? He's kind of a too valuable a water-cooler commodity at this point, right? It'll be interesting to see how long he, um, survives. On the positive side, I sort of like Shambo, though she might get grating. I really enjoy Offissuh New Hampshah. And Brett the T-shirt designer is... um... pleasantly wavy-haired. Whee.

What'd you think? Did you hate Russell H. as much as I did? Who's your early favorite?