I’ve been rereading Cormac McCarthy’s stellar 2005 novel No Country for Old Men, in preparation of the film adaptation coming out this November.  In the book, a seemingly unstoppable killer by the name of Anton Chigurh offs something like eight-hundred or so people as he searches for several million dollars in missing drug money.  His favorite method of dispatching folks who displease him is to punch a hole through their skulls with a cattle stun gun.  I mention this only because by the midway point of the premiere episode of Survivor: China, I wished to hell Anton Chigurh would magically appear and perforate the craniums of no less than half the new castaways.

Folks, we’ve been through a lot together.  I’ve been reviewing this show since the beginning, stuck with it through thick and thin, riding the giddy highs of the Outback, Panama, Palau, and Guatemala, and enduring the depressing lows of Africa, Thailand, Vanuatu, and Fiji.  I’ve cheered everyone from Rich and Rudy to Yul and Yau-Man, hissed everyone from Jerri to Jonny Fairplay.  Let’s face it, a show cannot be consistently great for 14 seasons, and there have been some extremely uneven patches and several flat-out bad ideas (Exile Island anyone?) but at its core it was still Survivor, where strong personalities, people with grit and character, would outwit, outplay, and outlast, and salvage even the lamest season.  Think Lex in Africa, or Yau-Man in Fiji. 

But gang, I gotta tell ya, after last night’s first episode of Survivor: China, I don’t see anyone worth seriously rooting for, let alone enduring three months of televised torture.  Yeah, gravedigger James has a quiet and dignified strength.  Problem is, he’s like the fiftieth massively muscled bald black man the show has cast as its only African-American male.  Someone at Mark Burnett Productions has to get over their crazy love for The Green Mile.  Either that, or just sign Michael Clarke Duncan already and get it over with.  (It ain’t like he’s all that busy.)  At least I don’t wanna see James die anytime soon, which is more than I can say for a quite of few of these awful, awful people.  A quick Google search of China’s indigenous wildlife shows several species of alligator, bear and tiger, any of which would be more than suitable to maul the steaming innards out of, say, Ashley.  China’s also rife with bird flu, HIV, and any number of exotic diseases which would make very short and ugly work out of such a tool as Jean-Robert.

I guess what I’m trying to say, and taking an awful long time at it, is that I’m over this show.  I no longer feel the love, and it sure ain’t showing me any back.  I’ll still watch, but the comments are just going to be every so often instead of every week.  Yeah, I know CBS has renewed this show ’til the Apocalypse, but if Mark Burnett had any sense of reality or dignity, he’d make next season another all-stars, just so we can get the Stephanie vs. Tom vs. Yul dream match, then close shop.  It’s been a great ride, but even the amazing backdrop of China can no longer bring this show back to what it once was. 

Sigh.

We begin at a Buddhist monastery in the Jiang Xi province.  Jeff Probst tries to be helpful by telling us China is one of the oldest countries in the world.  Dude, it’s the oldest freakin’ civilization outside the Fertile Crescent.  These guys were inventing gunpowder and acupuncture while Europeans were just crawling from their caves to chase boar with sticks.  Give some props.  Meanwhile, in modern Shanghai - look, they have cars and electric lights! - sixteen Americans haul backpacks and a laughable amount of luggage onto a train.  Jeff gives a shorthand description of each - a gravedigger, a waitress, a former model - as they ride the rails and make me wish I were watching The Amazing Race.  Trucks take the Americans further "back in time" through the remote province.  They are now at the Lake of 1000 Islands.  Insert your own salad dressing joke here.  Finally they arrive at the monastery, still dragging  all their life’s possessions in giant suitcases.  A bell is rung, as the Americans pass through rows of Chinese worshippers.  I’m pretty sure they’re worshipping Buddha, but the direction makes it look like they’re worshipping strapping Westerners and all their expensive stuff. 

"I’m like a damn kid at a carnival!," exclaims long-thought-to-be-dead character actor Walter Brennan in the role of Chicken, who luck would have it just happens to be a chicken farmer from Marion, Virginia.  Peih-Gee, a jeweler from Marina Del Rey, whose name I will misspell repeatedly in my notes and finally just call P.G., gets emotional for the first, and definitely not the last time tonight, as she tells us how much returning to the homeland would’ve meant to her recently deceased Chinese grandfather.  For the record, she’s not bad looking, but nowhere near as cute or likeable as last season’s Michelle.  She’s more like an older, pissier Shii-Ann.

Jeff says before starting out, the castaways will go through a non-religious Buddhist welcoming ceremony.  Denise, a school lunch lady from Douglas, Massachusetts, says, "It was just very spiritual, very emotional for me."  Okay, good.  Now let’s hear from some ugly Americans.  "I don’t wanna be bowing like 37 days," complains Courtney, a bony, blonde New York waitress who looks like Gwen Steffani mated with a dishrag.  "We bowed for days," she whines.  "We were there forever."  Oh, Anton Chigurh, where are you and your trusty cattle stun gun when we need you?  But the cultural callousness is not over, no sirree.  Leslie, a Christian radio talk show host (uh-oh) from Tega Cay, South Carolina (UH-OH), is spooked by all the gently smiling Buddhas and ankles the temple.  "I just couldn’t do it," she huffs, reminding us the Bible says not to worship false idols.  Um, no one was asking you to worship anything, church lady, they were just welcoming you with unjudging acceptance because - call it crazy - that’s what some cultures do.  Anton, here’s another one for you.

Jeff calls Leslie out for walking on the welcome ceremony.  Leslie claims she is "not religious" but "has a relationship with Jesus Christ."  That’s like saying I’m not hungry but I have a relationship with Burger King.  Jeff prods, asking if she feels this blatant disrespect of another culture will bite her in the ass over the next 39 days.  She says no since, y’know, her pal Jesus has a personal stake in her winning.  Think back over the long course of the show.  From Dirk onward, no religious kook has ever made it past the merge.  Thank God.

Jeff informs everyone the game starts now.  They are not to bring their luggage and will be marching off to camp in the clothes on their backs.  One of the hot young dumb things - I think Jaime, another rocket scientist from South Carolina - says she’s not wearing any underwear.  "Then you should be very popular," says Jeff through clenched teeth, wondering why he ever renewed his contract.  Everyone is instructed to go to the bag with their name on it, and retrieve their buffs with the team names Zhan Hu and Fei Lung.  Amanda, a hiking guide from L.A., says she’s happy to be on Fei Lung ’cause it’s the team with studly Aaron and James.  I know, I know…  If it’s any consolation, it’s the last we’ll hear from her tonight.  Jeff also instructs each tribe to get a copy of The Art of War (a couple of the girls make faces, like, no one told me I’d have to read!) and a map to their camp.     

As the Fei Lungs row out to their beach, the aforementioned Aaron, a surfing instructor from Venice, California, voice-overs, "I don’t think my tribe for the most part knows what’s going on."  Der, ya think?  Just ’cause you got both Courtney and Leslie?  The Fei Lungs find rice, but no flint.  Then comes the rain, but most of the tribe remains upbeat.  However, Courtney complains - I’m gonna have to make a macro for that - Courtney complains that all the good cheer grates on her.  "People in New York don’t act like this."  She continues that these are the sort of folks she would usually never associate with, and I recall the sound of Anton Chigurh’s cattle stun gun described as being akin to a big stapler. 

Jean-Robert, a self-described professional poker player from Las Vegas (i.e. unemployed loser who reads way too much Maxim and GQ), ventures out with Todd, a flight attendant from Pleasant Grove, Utah.  Jean-Robert, who expects people to buy he makes a living playing cards like a James Bond villain or something, refuses to believe Todd is a flight attendant.  "You seem like somebody who’s a little devious to me," Jean-Robert coos, sounding less like a threat and more like an opening line.  "I’m onto you."  Todd admits, "I really, really, really wanna be here," and he begs Jean-Robert not to tell the others he thinks the flight attendant is "sharp."  Proving he’s not.  We mercifully go to commercials, where I scrawl "15 min in and I’m already dreading next 3 months."

We return from break to see a giant panda in a tree.  Nowhere near the camp.  Oh well, it’s still pretty.  Enjoy it while it lasts, ’cause now we have to go back to the people and their incredible suckitude.  The Zhan Hus paddle ashore.  Sherea, an elementary school teacher from Atlanta, hobbling on high heels, tells us, "I’m a Southern girl but I’m not an outdoorsy girl."  God in Heaven, you’re on Survivor!  Did you think it was shot at a Holiday Inn?  Some of the younger castaways find the slats from an old fence they think will make a shelter or a cool fort or something, but Chicken just shakes his head at these whippersnappers.  "I got a lot of experience over these characters," he mushmouths.  No one seems to want the old guy’s opinion, "so I’m not giving it."  Somewhere in the great beyond, Pat Buttram shakes his fist in sympathy.  Ashley, a WWE diva from East Northport, New York, says being a wrestler has prepared her for this experience.  "I know my fans are gonna want me to win."  Yeah, if the Immunity Challenge calls for staged body slams and hitting someone with a folding chair, you’ll be invaluable.  "I’m in the lazy tribe," grouses Phei-Gee as the other girls dance and laugh.  "I can’t connect to the wackiness out here."  And here comes that rain.  Chicken is asked for his opinion on how to construct a shelter, but he refuses to give a clear answer ’cause these young’uns ain’t no good no how.  So great, I have plenty to hate about both teams.

The editing fairy arrives to contrast the lazy Zhan Hus with the industrious Fei Lungs, whose manly men chop down trees and build a shelter.  "We are a very strong tribe," enthuses Todd.  Especially strong is James, an ebony Adonis from Lafayette, Louisiana.  Leslie has no problem worshipping his idol, if you know what I mean, and asks what he does for a living.  "I bury people," the gravedigger answers in a voice just above a whisper.  Oh, if I had my way, James would be very busy on this show.  Anyhow, James confides the "social aspect…will kill me."  His game plan is to "pull out in the challenges.  Make them love me."  As night falls, a storm moves in and the tribes spend Night 1 huddled in their respective shelters.

Zhan Hu, Day 2.  Their shelter sucked.  Yeah, big shock.  "Last night was a reality check for these guys," says Chicken, before taking a call from Chill Wills.  Ashley, the wrestling diva, moans she’s not feeling well and bends double with dry heaves.  "I have to stay in the game," she tells us in her best pre-bout-interview-with-Vince-McMahon voice.  "I’m not leaving."  Dave, a bartender and former model from Simi Valley, is surprised and says, "I thought she’d be a lot stronger person."  He tells her not to worry, but then confides to us she’ll be the first to go if her health doesn’t improve.  Okay, now’s a good time for us to get clear on something.  Wrestling divas are not athletes.  They’re proto-strippers with softball-size biceps and bad perms teased to next Sunday.  Plus those lip rings are gonna get infected any minute.

Fei Lung, Day 3.  James and Todd bring back Tree Mail, promising the first Immunity Challenge.  To their credit, they consult The Art of War and read the passage about selecting a good commander.  Todd suggests it should be Aaron, which actually is kinda sharp in an Iago-esque way.  This way Aaron can be the center of attention, while Todd stays close.  "I’m ready but I’m nervous," says Fei Lung’s new general.  Over at Zhan Hu, Ashley is still in a fetal ball of agony.  No one’s reading about war and its attending art, but Frosti, a student and Parkour expert from Chicago, says he will bust out his free-running skills to win the challenge.

As the tribes file in, Jeff asks Chicken what life is like at Zhan Hu.  "Overall, we’re doing okay," the old man lies.  Speaking for Fei Lung, Jean-Robert says, "The worst part is being fully drenched."  For Immunity and flint, each tribe will carry a ceremonial mascot through an obstacle course.  The lead castaway of each squad will have to climb a wall to release a drawbridge that lets the rest of his tribe through.  Once they get to the end of the course, the tribes will have to assemble a puzzle, placing the stakes of their mascot in the proper holes.  James leads the way for Fei Lung, Frosti pulling point for Zhan Hu.  It’s a close race, as both of these guys are in top shape, but James is just able to keep his team ahead, and Fei Lung takes first Immunity.  All those who wanted to see Courtney or Leslie get fed to giant reptiles will have to wait at least another week.

The Zhan Hus slog back to camp, and Phei-Gee breaks down in tears.  Dave gives a stern pep talk, telling the tribe, "We have unfortunate business to do tonight."  (Oh, that old line never works.)  Eyes still red, Phei-Gee goes into take charge mode, ordering the tribe to build a proper shelter so they won’t be weakened by the weather again.  She asks Chicken for his advice, but he once more hedges on committing one way or another.  Ashley resents Phei-Gee giving orders, especially as she was crying just a short time earlier.  Ashley continues that she was sick, but now she’s feeling "a million times better" and hopes her tribemates won’t hold that against her.  Chicken and Frosti discuss who should go.  Chicken says Ashley hasn’t done anything since they got here, and he’s writing her name down.  Frosti stays non-committal.  Dave tells us it’s either Chicken, Phei-Gee or Ashley leaving tonight.  He confides to Chicken that they need experience on this team, and he will not write the old man’s name down.

At Tribal Council, Jeff asks, "Phei-Gee, was this more than you bargained for?"  She admits it’s harder than she ever imagined.  Chicken says someone is gonna have to step up in this team and be a leader.  Jeff asks if anyone wants the honor, and both Dave and Phei-Gee raise hands.  They both say they don’t necessarily want to be leader, but someone has to do it to get the team up and moving.  Ashley’s eyes practically roll out of her head as Phei-Gee speaks.  Dave is asked what this tribe needs to do.  "Trim the least effective people," he answers.  Chicken seconds that, wanting to get rid of "the least productive."  Knowing damn well who they mean, Ashley admits she was sick but doesn’t feel she should be judged by that.  Yeah, guys, there’s so many other things to judge her on.  Again, those lip rings.  Asked whether he fits in, Chicken says he doesn’t but he’s not the one doing the least amount of work.  "If we don’t open our eyes," he warns, "we’re gonna be seeing you a lot."  As Dave predicted, the vote is split three ways between Phei-Gee, Ashley and Chicken.  The women garner two votes apiece, but Chicken gets three.  "DAMN!," the old timer barks, before having his torch snuffed.  The rest of the tribe is told they can keep their torches, as well as the flint Jeff tosses them.  Is it my imagination, or is there a bit of contempt to his throw?

In the Penthouse

James, Fei Lung - Pretty much the only castaway in the entire show who didn’t come off as arrogant, bossy, ignorant, lazy or hopelessly stupid.

In the Doghouse

Oy, where to start.  Let’s just say the sun would shine a little brighter and birds would sing a little sweeter in a world without Ashley, Courtney, Jean-Robert or Leslie.

Commercials - Whoever chose Kate Bush’s "This Woman’s Work" - the saddest song EVER - as the tune to promo the new season of CSI is a flippin’ genius, but everyone associated with The Game Plan must die slowly of rectal cancer.

The worst season opener, featuring the worst cast, which already promises to be one of the worst seasons.  This is gonna be a hard one to choke down, friends.

Next week - "At Fei Lung, the poker player’s bluff is called…at Zhan Hu, Dave’s leadership is called into question…and the pro-wrestler comes out in Ashley."

I’m no longer signing off with my customary ’til then.  This episode left me crying on my bed.  Expect to hear from me again, but not for a little while.