This weekend a bizarre collection of former sportsmen, fading soap stars and glamour girls will find themselves dumped in a tropical rainforest on the borders of New South Wales and Queensland.
Dennis Wise, Jack Maynard, Jamie Lomas and Georgia Toffolo – I’m sure you’ve not heard of most of them, but that won’t be a turn off.
Our appetite for the toe-curling campfire romances, disgusting food trials (kangaroo testicles anyone?), and ritual humiliation that makes ITV’s I’m a Celebrity compulsive viewing shows no signs of diminishing. 12 million of us watched the last series, and it’s the show ITV rely on to hold their share price steady.
I’m a Celebrity has become part of British culture, replacing the advent calendar and cheery carol singing as an essential part of the build up to Christmas.
Stanley Johnson (left) and Amir Khan (right) are heading for the Jungle and will take part in this year’s I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!
Mr Johnson, former Chelsea footballer Dennis Wise, comedian Shappi Khorsandi, boxer Amir Khan and actress Jennie McAlpine will be heading to Australia
In the New Year, when the credit card bills come in and the days remain short, Celebrity Big Brother takes over as a mindless low-cost way of passing time.
The casting of these reality shows- from Bake Off to Strictly – is a highly technical exercise in box-ticking.
There has to be one mouthy old bat (I’ve been asked to do most of them), one washed up sportsperson or soap star, someone who’s struggled with drink, drugs or depression (preferably fresh out of rehab), and – a relatively recent ingredient in the mix – a politician or ‘intellectual’ who wants to relaunch their brand and connect with the great unwashed, irritating their fellow competitors by using long words whilst displaying zero knowledge about the story lines of popular soap operas.
Ann Widdecombe, Ed Balls, Edwina Currie and Nadine Dorries have all taken the money and made fools of themselves, some with greater success than others.
The prize-winner in this category must be the former Respect MP George Galloway, who appeared on Big Brother dressed as a cat.
During their attempts at TV stardom, both Mr Galloway and Ms Dorries were meant to be sitting in the House of Commons representing their constituents, but they argued that appearing on television ‘connected’ them to the public.
In a reality show, though, you’re cut off from the outside world, like the sex-obsessed MPs getting totally blathered in the subsidised bars of the Houses of Parliament, hitting on interns.
Saturdays singer Vanessa White, WAG Rebekah Vardy, vlogger Jack Maynard, Made In Chelsea star Georgia Toffolo and soap actor Jamie Lomas complete the line up
When I did the show in 2004, my fellow campers included Princess Diana’s former butler Paul Burrell, who ripped the sleeves from his shirt, and sang Broadway hits, whilst revealing he used blotting paper and a soda syphon to soak up Corgi wee on the priceless carpets at Sandringham.
A few years later, Mr Burrell reached for the closet door handle, divorced his long-suffering wife, and married his male partner in a lavish ceremony.
I found the antics of my fellow camp-mates mind-numbing, but at least they were harmless.
This season, the show’s producers have played a blinder by casting as camp’s ‘intellectual’ the patriarch of the most irritating family on the planet.
Stanley Johnson, 77, father of Foreign Secretary Boris, author and journalist Rachel and government Minister Jo. Theo, his other son, is a management consultant – so this is a high achieving family.
Boris, Stanley and Rachel love the limelight, being centre stage, holding forth at full volume.
They are clever (both father and son won scholarships and attended Oxford) – but somehow the Johnson family really wind me up.
I’m a Celebrity has become part of British culture, writes Janet Street-Porter
Is it my common accent and working class background? I admit, the Johnson clan are my Achilles heel, effortlessly posh, sure they are always right, convinced we’re interested in every bit of piffle they spout.
Boris was elected Mayor of London because he was a cartoon character, someone that even Labour voting taxi drivers thought was a ‘real geezer’.
His progress has been unstoppable to the point that I now wonder how on earth has Britain ended up with a mouthy clown as Foreign Secretary?
The man who said that drunken fans were partly responsible for the Hillsborough disaster in which 96 people died, who claimed that Liverpudlians were ‘wallowing’ in ‘their victim status’.
He’s racist too – in 2002, Boris claimed the Queen loved visiting parts of the Commonwealth, being greeted by ‘crowds of flag-waving piccaninnies’.
In 2016 he managed to compare the EU attempts to unify Europe with those of Hitler.
He can be casually sexist – once describing Hilary Clinton as looking like ‘a sadistic nurse in a mental hospital’.
Boris is said to have inherited his foot in mouth tendencies from Stanley, who also cheated on his first wife.
He’s fiercely competitive – participating in a spot of street rugby in Tokyo in 2015, he managed to flatten a schoolboy, all for the benefit of the cameras.
A couple of years ago, Boris spoke at a charity dinner I attended – shambling and inarticulate, saying nothing of any merit, treating the audience as if they were dolts, happy to bask in the glow of superiority emanating from his bulky frame.
Stanley has gone in the jungle because he’s being upstaged by his son.
Janet Street-Porter was on the show with Princess Diana’s former butler Paul Burrell (pictured together) back in 2004
A Member of the European Parliament for five years, he’s out of politics – having failed to get elected as an MP in 2005.
Stanley has written dozens of books, he’s a raconteur and an adventurer who has climbed Kilimanjero twice, a keen environmentalist.
Like that other enviro-bore Bear Grylls, he wants to save the planet.
Above everything else, Stanley is a relentless self-promoter, just like his son.
One of the least attractive aspects of Boris is refusing to admit when he’s wrong and exhibit genuine humility.
Not good in the restrained world of international diplomacy.
Recently, Boris wrongly described a British woman jailed on spying charges in Iran as someone who had been ‘training journalists’- when she had been on holiday. Sloppy speech that could have tragic consequences – her husband said she was ‘close to a nervous breakdown’ and worried the authorities would increase her five year sentence.
It took days, and an intensive grilling by MP’s for Boris to grudgingly admit he ‘could have been clearer’ and finally apologise.
Spare a thought for the motley crew sitting around the I’m a Celebrity campfire this weekend – they’ve got hours and hours of self-obsessed Stanley Johnson to listen to.
Perhaps Amir Khan could land a killer punch and knock him out – that would make my year complete.