I’ve always believed that people are fundamentally separate. I envision us as tiny pilots in our own skulls, desperately slamming buttons and pulling levers to make our bodies walk and talk and touch. I try to tell people about the fact that I live in my head. Before I can say “and I think you do, too,” they start giving advice on how to “get out” and “live.” I don’t know how to talk about it without someone hearing “please help me” instead. I don’t know why it sounds like an insult to be in your head. I love my head. It’s where my brain is.
Fun party, right? I said, FUN PARTY, RIGHT? Sorry, did you say something? I can’t – I SAID I CAN’T HEAR YOU! Fuck, this music is loud. Wanna head out for a smoke? I SAID – fuckin’ Christ… *Shakes cigarette pack, gestures toward door*
Ah, that’s better. So uh, this is officially the part where I run out of things to say. I think you’re cute, or at least find you interesting in some way. I wouldn’t have bothered to bring you out here, otherwise. Do I look interested? I’m trying to look interested. I mean, I AM interested, but I’d sound like a crazy person if I just turned to you and said “I’m interested,” right? So I have to LOOK interested. Without looking, you know, INTERESTED. With emphasis.
She came back from the jukebox a dollar lighter. She turned to the man on her left and said, “Today, I need some patience – so I’m playing Patience.”
I poked through my shy exterior with drunken poetics – “We used to pray to a god, and now we pray to the jukebox.” It sounded clever at the time. They got me free drinks afterward, so it must have seemed clever to them, too.
“No one understands.”
I hate that sentence. It calls up the last three brain cells I have left from high school, when I said those words constantly. When I hear it, I remember how much time I spent hating others for ignoring me just because I wasn’t talking to them. That’s the problem. If no one understands, you’re not being very clear. You’re probably not even being a little clear. You might even get off on being cryptic, because you think it’s the same thing as “deep,” whatever you think that means. I only say these things because I’ve been these things.
Ladies and gentlemen, I did not expect it, but I loved the everliving crap out of RoboCop. It’s over-the-top 80s gory, it’s a slapstick satire of 80s America, and it’s got some of the simplest but most effective visual storytelling that anyone who’s ever seen a movie before should be able to grasp.
Let’s summarize the plot to begin:
Detroit really sucks, and the cops can’t do much. Some are bought, but all are outgunned. The corporation that basically owns the police decide to replace cops with AT-STs. Some guy in a suit gets blown into Campbell’s Chunky Tomato by one, so another exec says, “Let’s try making the Borg instead. They’re at least half-people in there, and this won’t happen.” They dig up a cop that got blown into Garden Medly Ragu by Red Forman and turn him into an emotionless law enforcement machine, complete with badass one-liners and pistol spins. He robo-dozes off in his tiny I’m-a-robot-so-it’s-ok dormitory holding cell, and dreams about when he was a person. Then he starts hunting down The Formans to avenge himself and remember enough of his humanity to have a celibate crush on his old police partner. END OF MOVIE.
So how in the sweet name of Cyberdyne Systems is this a good movie? Because it does all of its simple shit perfectly.
It’s incredible watching TV shows change completely over their runs. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of doing things better. Star Trek: The Next Generation started out with terrible rubber-suit aliens, clumsy characters, and some truly godawful plots.
But then, somewhere between seasons 2 and 4, magic happened. They got some new writers, nudged the characters into their grooves, and let Riker become the manliest man in space.
Tonight, I was watching this guy,
and he brilliantly utilized the television medium to inspire a generation of rational thinkers to grow outward into the universe. He might also have been the smuggest motherfucker on TV.