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I know two weeks is a long time to wait for a recap, but it's taken this long for the police to cut through the chains tying me to the railings outside Lord Sugar's house, where I turned up on Sunday 21st in protest. Let's just say some things were yelled, some slogans were daubed in biohazardous material, but in the end no one got hurt. By now you should all know who won, and I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT. Nevertheless, let's recap the night as it happened and see if anything I say will stand up in court.
Katie Hopkins doesn't mean any of the "controversial" things she says; she's just figured out that's how you get publicity and a career. The newspapers and websites that publish them and pretend to be angry about it know she doesn't mean them; it's just an easy headline that they know will get hate-clicks. It's a disingenuous façade on both sides. And you know she doesn't mean them, and you're not that angry about them anyway. Between her, the publisher and the reader, there is not one sincerely held opinion or emotion, or one deed committed in earnest, in the entire transaction. It is a waste of the time of everyone involved.
So don't engage in it. Don't expend energy tweeting about her, much less at her. Don't read Huffington Post blogs that affect to be outraged by what she said. To all intents and purposes, she is an actor playing a character. You might as well be furious at Yosemite Sam because he threatened Bugs Bunny with a gun.
If we're going to see out our days on this planet arguing on the internet, we might as well argue with people whose opinions are sincerely held. Like Russell Brand: his political ideas are pretty scattershot, but at least he means them. Or you could protest Paul Dacre, if you're after someone who genuinely holds the same opinions Katie Hopkins pretends to - and profits from them far more - by never clicking a MailOnline link again.
Make the world a slightly better place in 2015 and turn your back. Because if you don't look at her, she doesn't exist.
I have heard that the Google recruitment process is made up of eight different interviews, in one of which the candidate is lead into an empty room and someone leaps out from behind a curtain, to gauge how they deal with stress. Faced with this, I think I would strike out and kill the person from behind the curtain with a blow to the oesophagus, and then presumably Google would immediately make me CEO, or something.
Yup, it's that part of The Apprentice when people nervously rethink their LinkedIn profile and wonder whether their employer is ever going to double-check that 100m swimming badge that they never actually got. It's interview week!
So far we've said goodbye to Dapper Laughs, The Sad-Eyed Woman, Fabulous Stephen, Lauren The Bratz Doll, Pamela (nope, me neither), The Sockless Wanker and finally, last week Fat Daddy Felipe got the chop and it was like seeing a pug being put to sleep.
Still left in the competition we have Sanjay whose name baffles me, Sarah Millican's younger sister, Rocket Surgeon Mark, Danyewl (how?), Solomon Blue Suit, Bianca and her million different shades of pink lipstick, and Roisin who I always forget is around. There are still more people left in The Apprentice than have auditioned for The X Factor over the past 10 years. Is our licence fee paying for all those taxis that ferry them around?
Obviously I don't watch The Apprentice, because it is among the litany of modern cultural images intended to discourage individual thought, divert our notions of aspiration towards dreams of meaningless celebrity, and make us dumb, compliant and less likely to rise up and overthrow the shadowy conservative plutocracy that owns the media. But I've recapped last night's episode anyway for funzies.
Remember when Wednesdays were fun? When you could do as you wanted and not be a slave to the corporate machine? I miss those days.
All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl All Apprentice and no play makes Becky a dull girl
Just when I thought it was on the brink, The Apprentice pulls itself from the wreckage of last week's Coach Trip disaster
and delivers another doozy of an episode. I may just push back my trip to Dignitas for another week.
Thankfully this week's episode was much less dramatic. Following the sucker punch that was last week's triple firing, I don't think my heart could have taken it. However, it did mean we got the worst. Episode. Ever.
Apologies for the spoilerish title, but holy fuck, what just happened? I actually think I'm about to have an aneurysm. This is peak Apprentice, people; we're through the looking glass.