So anyway, point is, up until recently I would've yacked loudly in the direction of anyone who came even remotely close to me, about how the scourge of creation and the signs that society was devolving towards some primordial wreckage were all to be found in Big Brother, and, it shames me to relate, the folks what watch it. Far as The Duke was concerned, Big Brother did nothing other than rapidly increase the time it would take for us all to be back picking fleas off each others backs once more. A billion years of evolution wiped out overnight, on account of this moronic televisual enema.

In the intervening months and weeks and so on since Big Brother 4 was greeted with mass shrugging by the British public, I like to think that those fundamental changes I mentioned earlier, that retreat from the kind of obnoxious, superiority-complex-riddled fool I was, towards the hopefully much more tolerant and accepting character what now waffles these finely honed words for the web-net, have progressed to some extent.

I like to think I am more willing to try and understand why some folks like something, or why they don't, and more importantly, to try these things myself, as far as media products are concerned, and make an informed decision.

Because I'll let you in on a little secret. Remember how I said about I felt like Big Brother was the biggest load of arse-paste ever to be shat across mine telly? I had seen exactly half of an episode when I came to this conclusion. Big Brother had been running for four 10-week seasons, broadcast every night for each of those ten weeks, complete with round-the-clock coverage, and I made my assessment based on 15 minutes worth of screen-time.

That right there is as ignorant and repugnant as when folks lined up outside Dogma yelling about it was evil and perverted and offensive, without having seen a single frame.

I was just as bad, man. I mean shit, I might as well have been a Presbyterian.

(Just joking Presbyterians. I actually am one, I think.)

So what happened was that The Duke was asked to record the first episode of this year's Big Brother for mine sister, who was unable to see the programme. The next day my fiancée, The Duchess, she asks if we could watch it.

Sure, I say. Why the hell not. Can't be any harm in it.

About half way through I'm noticing something.

There have been, I think, six housemates brought on since the start of the show. Every time one of them appears, walks through the crowd, and disappears into the house for to spend a chunk of the next three and a half months, I find I'm saying things like, "Oh, I like him", and, "He's cool", and "I don't like that bloke right there."