Hey folks, Savant here. I got a real scorcher for you dopes today, and I don’t know why I haven’t committed it to paper beforehand. Let’s start from the beginning.
A time when natural resources are limited. Technology has advanced at and exorbitant pace. Every aspect of your life is monitored. Your food is genetically enhanced. And the person who serves you, does your housekeeping, tends your gardens and provides companionship… they are not human at all. Engineers at Cybertronics Manufacturing and other facilities have created a specialized artificial intelligence for your every need. Except for love. Emotion has become the final and very controversial boundary in the evolution of robot capabilities.
My review of “Evolution”: IT SUCKS. The Duch is right on schedule to replace the other David… Caruso. Too bad, I really like him. They need to get him in MIB 2 as Agent X who has a sexual compulsion problem towards alien women with multiple sets of breasts. Think about that cast… Will, Tommy Lee, Linda F, Rip Torn, David Duch, and hell let’s throw in Bruce Campbell too.
Good morning, all two of you.
I was just sitting here, listening to Kid Rock’s “Bawitaba” or whatever, drinking a Coors laced with 5-MEO extract, and I had a masterful idea. You see, like every other bored film know-it-all who grew up during the Grunge age, I zone out on MTV when I need a creative black hole to fill my soul. I watch MTV’s directors like a talent scout, trying to pigeonhole who will be the next great Camera Wizard.
On this evening, as the drugs begin to take hold, I notice to myself just how good this Cherry-flavored Cola with the movie promotional advertisement on it tastes. As I sip gingerly, savoring that sweet, sweet caffeine, I notice how my hand perfectly frames the logo, turning my entire being into an extended walking advertisement for this shitty product. I remember how I used to mock commercials where the actors would perform what I call the “commercial hold”, where they would do what I just described. No longer can we truly “obey our thirst” or reach for “the joy of cola” because we are slaves to the advertising market. If we weren’t, we?d just drink water. Oh, wait, they found a way to sell that shit too, didn’t they?
On this evening, as the drugs begin to take hold, I ponder to myself exactly why I feel this strange burning sensation near my anus.
Five Nair – free minutes later, I gingerly sit down to compile our next interview, the thing that you shall be compelled to read down below. Naked I am, letting my freedom hang by my knee and sway in the California heat, propelled by the occasional thought of anime elves and gusts of wind from my trippy ceiling fan. Drunk on alcohol and ether, I prepare to mentally beam my next interview onto the page.