Ian Harrison
Humans are terrific at ostrich-like ignoring things they don’t want to focus their attention on. Pregnant, stick-thin, flyblown mothers, already unable to feed their half-dozen malnourished, bawling children. Another appeal from celebrities donating their valuable, scarce time but not their ample wealth? Ugh, change the channel.
Still, these documentaries find their audience.
A heavyweight hippopotamus cannonball, all saccharine sweetness and teeth, springing the trap to bomb the unsuspecting, knocking them out of their rhythm, straight-up the proverbial creek. A heart-rending still frame remains, alongside a low, low monthly payment plan with no minimum commitment spelling out the ongoing terms.
Perky, bright-eyed twenty-something backpackers with marshmallow hearts binge
