As ‘I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here’ rumbles back onto our screens this week, with a spin-off show hosted by Joe Swash and Stacey Solomon, it reminds me again that in our land so splintered by Brexit it’s so often possible to divide our national pursuits into relevant political camps. Eating a pork pie, watching an Air Festival is absolutely Brexit, while queuing for cha siu bao then watching Glenda Jackson’s King Lear is stone cold remain. Loving Gary Barlow on Strictly is High Brexit. Loving Gary Numan is low level remain. Enjoying the tricky cerebral mischief of Victoria Mitchell Coren’s Only Connect is remainus maximus. Watching Ant and Dec howling as Scarlett from Gogglebox swallows and vomits up a kangaroo’s bum-hole is Brexit in Excelsis. Call this snobbery if you will. I don’t make the rules. There merely happens to be a terrific overlap in the psychographic segmentation between ‘People who think Britain can survive exporting PG Tips and raspberry jam’ and ‘People who think Martin Roberts from Homes Under the Hammer in a bug shower is the peak of light entertainment’.

Article by Grace D

The same ten million people who tuned into last year’s premier episode hoping to see Duncan Bannatyne get into a terrible pickle with an outdoor latrine were the same types punching the air when Ian Beefy Botham entered the Brexit fray. They are a simple people, brimming with certitude. There’s a good reason Aunt Bessie’s Frozen foods are so keen to sponsor I’m a Celebrity because here’s an audience who talk a bloody game about a traditional British Sunday dinner, but do not have the gumption to peel a potato. Until recently the sponsor was Iceland Frozen Foods which again is telling. The sort of person who buys six frozen Rockefellar oysters for £2.49 and serves them on Christmas Day is the same sort who thinks Britain really has had enough of pesky experts, especially that Mark Carney fella.