Why, why, why couldn't I have picked something easy to summarize for a first effort? Big Brother? 'Several people act like complete idiots, bigots, and walking arguments for enforced sterilization while forgetting they have an audience taking it all in, destroying their future social lives, job prospects, and chances of appearing on The Surreal Life.' The Simple Life? 'Two rich girls whose collective IQs and social skills, when measured, gave mathematicians the answer to the square root of negative one, try to deal with The Real Fake World and do a script-mandated bad job of it.' The Apprentice? 'Sixteen people out of six billion are delusional enough to think working for Donald Trump would be a rewarding experience.'
But no -- I took on Celebrity Mole. And that means y'all are expecting long. Detailed. Exhaustive. Who was standing where? Who wore what? Does the first name of the second cousin by the third marriage as reported by the fourth estate suggest the Mole's identity as scheduled to be accidentally revealed in the fifth episode? And just who was the sixth man, anyway?
So I get to launch what was, up until two paragraphs ago, a promising summary career by essentially providing a frame-by-frame account of an episode in a series that, at the best of times seems designed to drive both the viewers and players insane. Well, it was nice while it lasted. Can we say this counts as my mandatory pre-Survivor effort and end it here?
Great... Okay. Roll opening credits. Ananda has been executed. I'm really going to miss her. I was so looking forward to finding out just who she was.
Last time on Celebrity Mole: Yucatan: DepCapsFan made a lot of excellent on-site observations which I can't hope to match because I foolishly decided to hide in the bushes around Survivor 8, which means she got some great material and I got to see Richard naked and spent the next thirty-nine days recovering from hysterical blindness.
And -- we open with confessionals. Lots of confessionals.
"Laid' back, sit quiet, listen, observe,' Corbin tells us, his eyes closed, inner sight trained on the man within. 'That's all I want to do. That is what I'm going to do for the continuation of this game is lie back, listen, observe." And just for a moment, I'm proud of him. Because let's face it: while he's certainly been very observant since he came back from the dead, he's been -- well -- shall we say 'obsessive'? Yes, we shall. Shall we also say 'borderline loon'? No, because we're trying to keep this summary under twenty pages and it may hit the point where every word counts. So let's just go with 'loon'. Or 'obsessive loon'. After all, it's not like there's a mandatory limit.
But no matter how you choose to term it, Corbin's been acting like a man whose be-all and end-all of existence is 'Catch the Mole. Unmask the Mole. Find redemption in the eyes of the six thousand people who watched the first series all the way through!' And this may be because he's currently somewhere in the depths of the D-List and having 'Celebrity Mole 1' on his resume was the greatest thing to happen to him in years -- which, given how the series wound up doing, should tell you everything you need to know about how his career was going up to that point -- or it may be because he's in basic training to play Captain Ahab in the Moby (The Program Will Censor This) remake, and the Mole is his white whale. Which means that whatever the cause, he's been well, an obsessive loon. So to see him recognize this, and actually make a commitment to back off a little -- a lot -- to, in fact, wow the producers with his Darrah imitation -- is wondrous. (And besides, Brad Pitt would have gotten the part anyway.)
So Corbin has found his sanity. And regardless of the fact that this is a site of the bashers, by the bashers, and for the bashers, I am, for the tiniest of moments, the amount of time it takes to go from 'now' to 'then', proud of him.
And thus, for karmic balance, we must immediately turn the confessional camera to another dark room, where awaits -- Stephen. And he says --
'Dog. Dog dog.'
'Dog. Dog dog dog, diggy dog, diggy dog, dog dog dog, Dalmatian!'
Oh. Sorry. My fault. Forgot to press the DOPE button on the remote. Rewinding...
'Corbin, if you're not the Mole and you're doing the same thing again, you're an idiot.'
Hang on. Maybe I didn't hit the button hard enough. Stephen Baldwin just called someone an idiot: that can't be right... there's pots and kettles that would get all the way down into the ultraviolet on color commentary before Stephen Baldwin could be legitimately entitled to call someone an idiot... Rewinding...
'Corbin, if you're not the Mole and you're doing the same thing again, you're an idiot.' (pause) 'I love ya, but you're an idiot.'
Huh. That was actually right...
Well, you didn't see what we just saw, did you, Stephen? This is a changed man! Corbin is self-aware! Can you say the same?
No, really. We're all curious here. You spent most of your first appearance demonstrating the intellectual self-recognition of sea kelp. Help us out here.
Instead, the camera moves on, presumably out of mercy.
More confessionals: Mark tells us he'd never considered how not winning the game might put a crimp in both his social life and his dealings with his mother. No, Mark, you never considered that falling low enough on the fame chart to be considered for this game was already the Hollywood equivalent of an embarrassing social disease, and your being here, win or lose, is just the first open sore on your lips.
Angie tells us she believes the Mole to be Corbin. Also Stephen, Tracy, Dennis, Keshia, and Mark. All at once. But not Ahmad. Certainly not Ahmad. Ahmad is the one directing all her enemies against her, but that doesn't make him the Mole or anything. Unlike the Injustice League Of Moleville (Mayor: Dennis Rodman), which is after her day and night. Mostly night. There is a very slight chance the game is getting to Angie. Nothing worth quantifying.
Tracy believes she could be the Mole. Presumably Angie is relieved to be only five-sixths insane.
Dennis thinks everyone else believed he was going to get the boot last night, but no, he's still here. See, I told you Dennis was more observant than everybody thought! He's noticed he's still here! And you actually believed those health warnings about how body piercings close to the brain could affect memory? Hah! Of course, he's calling himself The Man Of Love, but that's probably just the team's pet name for him. Dennis Rodman to Man Of Love. Sure, that's only several letters short of an anagram and just one or two bricks shy of a load.
And Keshia just can't wait until this is all over and they know who the Mole is -- because it's not her. And then she asks everyone to believe her, and tells them that they should. (It should probably be mentioned that Keshia is wearing a white bikini top during this confessional, and makes a gesture towards the portions of her anatomy that the top is covering towards the end of the speech. This has three immediate effects: ninety percent of the male viewership chooses to believe her, twelve percent of the female viewership follows right along, and ratings on the Cosby Show reruns drop forty percent as those same people start to feel really, really awkward.)