One three-hour tour, please...

...hold the Rapture.

You know why Gilligan’s Island worked?

No Fundys.

Think about it.

Had the uber-rich...and his wiiiife.

Had the Kansas farm girl. Had sexy Hollywood and sober Science personified.

Working class. Middle management. Capitalists.

And everybody bitched a little too much now and again, and tried to slag off.

Everybody wanted to get back to their own idea of the Ideal World, and away from the rest of the goofs.

Everybody wanted to jump Ginger like a dead battery (Yes, even Lovey, and you damned well know it.) And when Ginger wasn’t answering the door, perky Mary Ann was always good for a friendly, frisky romp in the sand.

But everybody was smart enough to know that they had to find a way to get along. That thing’s had to be basically fair. That when someone made a coconut cream pie, damn it, everybody got at least a little bit.

Now throw Tom DeLay on the island.

Turn him loose to sow ignorance and fear and hatred. Let him brand Gilligan as an Island Hating Queer and drive him into the jungle with a spear. Or tell the Professor that he has to quit with all the “Science” chatter and start spouting pure Creationist dogma from now on, or be exiled.

Let the new Island Mega-Church preach divisiveness and paranoia, Rapture and the joy of suffering, and the Paradise that God has prepare for the faithful who are willing to kneel to His Will (as filtered by DeLay, of course) and kill all who stand against them.

Let Thurson bankroll it all so he can kick back and have a ball while the rest of the thralls toil for scraps under DeLay’s lash.

Watch Gilligan’s Island mutate into The Lord of the Flies right before your very eyes.

Fucking Fundies.

And here is where I guess I could insert all kinds of polysyllabic jabber about Archetypal Characters or how America’s psyche -- our fears, ideals and dreads -- are constantly unconsciously mirrored Oui-Ja board-like through our media. Which is why fictive visual media – like the movies – are packed wall-to-wall with tits, the relentless undead and genius mass-murdering sociopaths these days. Why the average length between jump cuts seems to be a billionth of a second. And why allegedly “reality based” media like the MSM is full of...nothing. But hey, you’re all too smart for that. Instead...

...did you ever notice that none of The Monkeys were Evangelicals?