You know when you get on a plane, and you're a bit stressed because you rushed all over the airport, and because despite being a seasoned traveller these days you still get a bit nervy on planes, and you're hoping that breakfast doesn't involve an egg product, and you get a bit of vertigo sometimes?

That's exactly the state I found myself in a couple of days ago when I jumped on a plane to Adelaide to cram in some work and family visits, so I'm sure you can appreciate that the last thing I wanted to watch was BEAR GRYLLS JUMPING OFF A FUCKING MOUNTAIN ATTACHED TO A FUCKING STRING.

Because that's what, in all their infinite wisdom, the "entertainment" mavens at Qantas had instore for us red-eyers that fabled morning at Tullamarine.

(One must question the public relations logic, too, of showing "how to survive disaster" videos when people are acutely aware of how your planes have recently been, oh, filling with smoke and potentially dropping out of the sky.)

And yes, I could have just not watched it, but the video screen was right in front of my head, and I had no headphones, and I'd finished Popular Science in about five minutes, so all I had left to do was wait for breakfast and watch Bear Grylls throw himself of vertiginous cliff-faces.

It's time for me to come clean: watching Bear Grylls makes me about as relaxed as Michael Clarke Duncan and his drill bros in this scene in Armageddon:


The world's least relaxing room.

Thus, the Qantas viewing was my most prolonged exposure to Grylls' special brand of heroism/idiocy (delete as appropriate), and previously I had relied on friends to filter his activities through to me.

Thus, from my good friend Jess:



And another time, a text from my friend Ned: "BEAR GRYLLS JUST ATE A SHEEP'S EYEBALL. HE'S DOING A GROSS FOOD SPECIAL AND IT'S GROSS."

Which was pretty much the extent of it.

I think we can all agree with the title of this video:




And so, I want you, the fine citizens of The Vine, to explain it to me: what the fuck is up with Bear Grylls? Why do people like him? Isn't he just a slightly better production values version of that terrifying lunatic who teaches you how to stab terrorists in the throat with a butter knife?

Yes, a modicum of survivalist skills is a good idea (how to rig up a thingy to catch some water from condensation, for example, is one that stayed with me from the golden era of Alby Mangels and The Bush Tucker Man).

But how many of us are actually going to be catapaulted into the Amazon with only a ripped parachute and a few kilos of sheep manure to subsist on?

How many of us can make a rope out of cable-ties and then abseil into a giant sequoia?

HOW MANY OF US ARE GOING TO GET LOST IN AFRICA AND HAVE TO DRINK ELEPHANT SHIT?

On the other hand, perhaps Bear Grylls can teach me how to survive having to watch his show with the sound off while waiting for breakfast on a 737 to Adelaide.

That's real fucken survival territory, man.