Survivor
The Brave May Not Live Long, But The Cautious Don't Live At All

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Termites Of Endearment

Steph uses a rock to carve a mark into a tree for Day 7. Brian tells the team he doesn't want to go to tribal council anymore. Well, that ought to do it. He has a chat with Amy, telling her he wasn't sure how things were going to swing once they got there the night before. In an interview, he congratulates himself for orchestrating the entire thing. "That was one hundred percent me," he says. "I engineered Morgan's ouster." He tells Lydia that everybody wound up voting for Morgan. He then tells us, though, that if Lydia went next, he wouldn't really care. And I don't get that, because then why did he care if she went last time? It seems a bit pointless to me, all this being Machiavellian for its own sake, and I'm not sure it bodes all that well. That's how you outsmart yourself. I look forward to the time, about three days from now in the timeline, where Brian's facial hair will be fully grown in, because he has the kind with weird gaps in it, and while it doesn't offend, it kind of makes me want to use it to create maps of Belize or something.

Nakum. Still Day 7. The fire burns. There is a horrible sound. Oh, look. It's the scary monkey. And he's up in a tree, and he's screaming. As people begin to stir, Judd tells us that, in the seven days they've been here, he's only slept a couple of hours. And why? Because of the damn monkey. He tells Blake he doesn't understand how anyone is getting any sleep with that roar going on. He means the monkey, and not, in fact, himself. "No, they are loud," Blake says, kind of agreeing while simultaneously communicating the thought: "Whatever, dude, it's a monkey." Cindy the zookeeper is unfazed by this, and comments that the monkey has clearly lost his gang of monkeys and is unable to find them. "Even monkeys get lost in the jungle; that ought to tell you something," she says cheerfully. I'm not sure Cindy is going to make any big points with anyone by psychoanalyzing the monkey or asking for understanding. For all I know, Cheerios may get lost, too; it doesn't make me feel sorry for them.

The monkey roars some more. The EEFPs have christened him "Howlie," so we'll go with that. ["Heh, that's as clever as the name my sister and I came up with for this obnoxiously loud talker at the gym: we call her 'Loudie.'" -- Wing Chun] Cindy interviews that she can't imagine how she could complain about being awakened from a sound sleep by Guatemalan howler monkeys, which is just one more way in which Cindy and I are very, very different people. She goes so far as to say that people pay money for this very experience. For what? For the Guatemalan Screaming Monkey Package from Travelocity? You're stretching, Cindy. She then takes the Dragonfly TV science-teaching route by explaining to Judd how the throat of a howler monkey works. Somehow, this doesn't seem to make him feel any better. I'm not sure Judd is an "I understand; therefore, I accept" kind of guy. Judd complains some more about Howlie, and also about Cindy's need to explain Howlie's behavior as if she's "Doctor Doolittle." Judd isn't convinced that he should be at peace with the screaming: "That is the most annoyingest [sic] noise I've ever heard in my entire life." He insists that noise will make you crazy.

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