Love Is In The Air, Rats Are Everywhere

Previously on At Least We Know It Can't Be Any More Damn Boring Than Vanuatu: A bloated cast of twenty washed up on the beaches of Palau where, almost immediately, they sent Wanda off to sing of sequestration. Poor, hot, hairless Jonathan was banished along with her, destined to spend a month learning all the words to "If You Tanked At Tribal Council, Clap Your Hands." The time you see him, he will be incoherent, alternately gnawing on a lanyard and playing the recorder. Then there was a double-whammy reward-immunity challenge that was won by the new Koror tribe, meaning that they got to take home fire. They were so grateful for their victory that they celebrated by sacrificing their box of flint and steel to the gods having jurisdiction over the bottom of the ocean. In better news, the challenge sent Ulong to tribal council, where the tribe decided that tattoos are marginally less irritating than bossy buttinskys are, and Angie escaped booting in favor of Jolanda. Now, there are a highly manageable seventeen people you're supposed to be keeping track of, so...you know, good luck. Count their legs and divide by four. Er, two. It's something like that.

We enter on night-vision Koror on Night 3, where they have not just returned from tribal council as have most introductory night-vision tribes, but instead theirs is the heartbreak of the "tragic" loss of their flint. Because after all, here it is, nighttime, and there's no fire. There is a close-up of the coconut monkey, followed by Tom's melodious voice saying, "Another day in paradise." Which is a really bad song, by the way. So bad that I'm surprised we haven't yet heard it on this season's American Idol, since they've been hauling Tiffany out of mothballs and all. Anyway, Tom's comment serves as the perfect segue to Caryn's whineterview that although they won immunity at the challenge, they of course dropped their flint into the water. Coby, elsewhere, is having a chat with (I think) Gregg, in which Coby points out that losing your flint in the water during a game show is, in terms of sudden shock, a lot like a car accident. You know, without the crash, injuries, trauma, insurance adjusters, court case, neck brace, joint and several liability, enormous damage award, appeal, settlement, contingency fee, and eventual complaint to the Lawyers' Board of Professional Responsibility. Other than that? Same.

Now, we take a whirlwind tour of GenderPoliticsburgh, where some of the Koror women are having hissyfits over the presence on their island of...rats! Because, did you know that chicks don't like rats? We're totally terrified of them. We stand on chairs and go, "Eeeeeee!" We hate them almost as much as we hate math. For those of us who live alone and take care of ourselves as women of the twenty-first century are peskily wont to do, this creates a problem, as we miss days of work while people go on without us, unaware that we are trapped in our kitchens, hoping some boy will come along with a mallet or a heavy book or something so that we can return to our lives. ["Not to play into sex stereotypes, but the other day I saw one of Glark's used teabags in the sink out of the corner of my eye, and it looked like a mouse and I squealed. In my own defense, I am the house's designated murderer of all bugs and spiders, so I'm not annoyingly girly the whole way through." -- Wing Chun] ANYWAY. Janu, rocking a nifty pair of librarian glasses but kind of making me blue with her display of girlish wimposity, interviews that she saw the rats and noticed that they were "going to town." And not in the "come on, Pa, Mr. Oleson is having a sale on lamp oil" sense, either. She goes on to jump and twitter and basically make a big old girl out of herself around the fire, all while insisting that she's "not afraid of anything." Show, Janu. Don't tell. And start with less squeaking. Janu ultimately interviews that she knows it should be "mind over matter," but the long and the short of it is that rats are gross. Well, so is math, but it doesn't mean I jump when it appears. Besides, when did they all get so spoiled? First season, the appearance of a rat was like a ham sandwich strolling by, all, "Get me! I'm great with mustard!" I mean, at least it's not dog food. I love how they end this sequence with a sound effect that kind of makes you want to write them a letter gently pointing out that "rat" is not short for "rattlesnake." Rats -- tch-tch-tch-tch-tch!

As they're all settling in, night-vision Gregg says to night-vision Tom that he loves the new camp. Tom seems surprised, and Caryn takes the opportunity to suck on a big lemon and, although no one asked her, throw in the opinion that she doesn't think there could be an island worse than this. You know, whatever the opposite of knocking on wood is, that's what she just did. Caryn interviews that choosing to come to the new island was a mistake now illuminated by the wisdom of the ages, or "day," and it was a "quick decision" they didn't think through. Of course, you couldn't really think it through, since it's just a gamble of the Let's Make A Deal variety. Old camp, new camp, might be better off, might be worse off...probably doesn't matter. Furthermore, when they made the decision, they had flint, so it seemed like they'd be able to make fire, and if they had fire at the new place, Caryn wouldn't be nearly so grumpy, I guarantee. Nobody can be grumpy when she's toasting imaginary marshmallows and drinking some delicious boiled water that is, like, 85% sure not to contain plague.

Anyway, kind of missing the fact that she's harping on something nobody can do anything about now, Caryn calls out Tom for taking the "let's have a new adventure!" approach, and clearly holds him responsible for the decision to change camps. She calls this a "rash choice" that could have long-term consequences for all of them, blah blah blah. I would venture to say right now that the likelihood of that decision's having long-term consequences is somewhere around zero. Caryn actually confronts Tom in the fire-free darkness, claiming that Willard called for a vote but Tom jumped in with his "adventure" thing. It's like Caryn thinks Willard is the old pharmacist that everyone in Pottersville makes fun of and writes off as a crazy old coot and sprays with seltzer, and I don't think that's going to fly. And neither does Tom, who protests that he originally wanted to stay as well, but heard people calling for a change of island before he said anything, so he went along. It's hard to tell from the edited tape what might have been said, but what you can tell is that, certainly, nobody spoke up to say that they wanted to stay, including Caryn. People who sit on their behinds and let other people lead so that they can blame others later if it goes bad get no sympathy from me. Besides, the decision is in the past. Caryn tries to pass it off as a constructive discussion and not just a bitchfest when she endeavors to extract agreement from Tom that they should always vote on everything. It's like she's setting up future Rules of Engagement, which is a little bit of a crybaby move in a game like this. I mean, she could have just said, "I think we should stay." Probst has a way of putting teams to snap decisions, and feminist process is for babies. If Caryn wants input, time, Caryn should try talking. And what's even worse is that she proceeds to act out what taking a vote means, like she's the only person who can properly explain what constitutes "raising" your "hand." Shut up, Caryn. Is that the first "shut up" of the season? Oh, warm fuzzies!

Unsurprisingly, Caryn isn't doing herself any favors in the group dynamic, as we learn when Katie gives an interview in which she says that Caryn can't shut her yap about the fact that the island they're on is horrible and sucks and they shouldn't have moved there, blah dee blah. What's awesome is that, then, a storm hits, and I guess Caryn would probably claim that it wouldn't be raining if they had stayed on their old island. Instead of this dumb island, which has weather. Katie goes on to say that the majority wanted to change camps, and that if it was the wrong decision, there's nothing to do but get over it. Which is true. Everyone hunkers down against the rain, using palm fronds as umbrellas, which works about as well as you would think. Overall, though, I'm really not sure what's supposed to be so much worse about this island than the other one, aside from the fact that they don't have a shelter yet -- which they can, after all, rectify. It's not like they left garment bags packed with diamonds and Cheez-Its back at the Palau Hilton.

The sun rises on Day 4, and we are at Ulong, where Jeff and Kim are snuggling in the smelly manner that so many of the young-n-sweaties seem to think is romantic. Stephenie wades into the water to cleanse herself in soapless futility as she voices over that she thinks Ulong did just the right thing in getting rid of Jolanda. She even thinks the tribe is in agreement on this point. Aw, unity! Nothing brings people together, after all, like the homey aroma of roasted scapegoat. Jeff and Kim stir, undoubtedly pondering whether it's too early in the relationship to reveal what their real morning breath is like, not yet aware that, at best, theirs will be a romance forged in filth for all eternity. James interviews that the tribe feels much less loaded down with bossiness now that it doesn't contain Jolanda. Which is...too bad, but true. "We're not going to follow a leader," he declares. And then there's an awesome cut to the entire team standing around on the beach, just about ready to start their day. And somebody says, "So what should we do?" And then they all stand there in a circle, looking at each other. It is silent. Ashlee looks at the sky, as if waiting for a shooting star, or a weather balloon, or a cyclone-flung cow. I get up and go make a phone call to send flowers to the editing team, and when I get back, everyone is still standing around. Finally, a male voice says, and I am quoting directly here, "Wake up first." Everyone agrees, which they communicate via the ancient tribal language of nodding. Good one! Okay, you're all awake, so you're done with that. Now what? The group appears to be stumped. Again! Already! This could be a long month for them. James emphasizes in his lying-in-a-tree-terview that because the team is made up of Americans (dammit), they're going to have a democracy, not a Jolandocracy. And they'll have a giant gap between rich and poor, and they'll consume much more than their share of natural resources. Take that, jungle! Nyah!

Ulong goes to pick up its treemail, which will be stumpmail this season, apparently. When they read the clue, it says, "Keep on your toes while making this run; your rivals will seek to spoil your fun; You'll too have the chance to spoil their mood; stay out of the water, and you may catch more food." I'm sorry, "You'll too have the chance"? Thanks, treemail-writers. The International Society Of Hari-Kari-Committing Copy Editors just called to thank you for providing material for the spring banquet. They occasionally lack motivation, but not this year. Angie reacts to the stumpmail by saying, I think, that she anticipates that the challenge will require them to "fight people," although I originally thought she said "bite people," which would have been awesome. I mean, that's a challenge they've never done, so...heads-up, challenge producers! Angie interviews that she's "not sure of [her] game plan," given that she knows she received votes at the last tribal council, so she's trying to be a "valuable asset." I feel so bad for saying this, but I would find Angie a more valuable asset if she hadn't picked quite such a teeny bathing suit. She is not fat, but this suit is like the Ultra White-Thigh Pointer-Outer. Not a good choice. Boy shorts, I would say, would have been the way to go. And...I'm thinking she's not waxing, and even that makes me uneasy, you know? Anyway, not that the modesty lies down with the tattoos all that often. ["Given that they had to start in the clothes on their backs, I'm betting that's not a bathing suit at all, but her bra and panties, so...yeah." -- Wing Chun] Angie works on sealing her own fate some more by claiming that she's likely to be up for elimination soon. And at this rate, she will be.

The teams approach the challenge beach. They line up on their mats, and Koror sees that Ulong got rid of Jolanda. Probst asks Koror how the fire they won is working out, because he totally has noooooo idea what happened. He's a babe in the woods, except that he's not a babe, and it's the jungle. Katie breaks the news to everyone that it's not working great. "We capsized yesterday," she says, to a head-flop from a mock-surprised Probst. (I hate that he wears Survivor hats, incidentally. Bands performing in their own shirts, blah blah blah.) Ian reports that, indeed, the flint, it is kaput for the moment. This causes no end of grinning for Jeff, because I have a feeling he's pretty much an asshole, and even if this didn't benefit his team at all, he would still think it was awesome, just because the other team losing something they won is so funny. Ha ha ha! Also funny? Wedgies. Ian vows that although Ulong has the right to gloat, Koror will find the flint. He refers to Koror as "the Bad News Bears," meaning that they may make many sequels before giving it up already.