I'm currently sitting at my desk in a room containing two windows. Both are open. Outside of each is a different Mexican with a different rusty harbinger of suburban sleep derivation; one to blow leaves, the other...probably to blow leaves. Fuck them both for performing their paid duties while I want to sleep late like a fussy immature child who didn't get his ba-ba last night when I explicitly asked my mother to bring it to me after Idol along with my Gorilla Grod footy pajamas and two bundles of butter toffee rice cakes.
Having recently witnessed the vapidity of J.J. Abrams' re-engaged Star Trek franchise, aptly titled Star Trek (#58 on imdb's top 250. Set Phasers to Who-The-Fuck-Cares), I have written a declaration of war against lazy, self described bohemian types who design loud hollywood futures (of the future!)
Joint Resolution Declaring that a state of war exists between the Imperial Citadel of LA-Based Production Designers of Massive Budgeted "Science Fictions" and the Knowledgeable Free Thinking Persons of Interweb Communications and making provision to prosecute the same.
Whereas the LA-Based Production Designers of Massive Budgeted "Science Fictions" has committed repeated acts of "glowing drinks make the world appear advanced" and "adding a random alien to a crowd scene reminds us that aliens exist in this world but we are too cheap to purchase enough prosthetics to make them believably prevalent" against the Knowledgeable Free Thinking Persons of Interweb Communications; Therefore be it resolved by the High Clerics of Cyberspace Harry Knowles, Zombo.com, and Hamster Eating Popcorn on a Piano, that a state of war between the aforementioned factions has thus been formally declared. There shan't be a film henceforth that shall parade nightclub glowsticks as viable drug substitutes or inform us that the future is being viewed due to hexagonal beds or square automobiles. Corollary to this will be the utter decimation of juvenile antics such as collegiate copulation and adolescent bullying perpetrated or targeted at already culturally respected characters (all this null and void if directed by Paul Verhoeven). And lens flares be damned! Holy shit, and what the fuck was with lines like "Tiberius? That's the worst!." I mean what the fuck were you thinking JJ you goddamn child! And Spock and Uhura, really? And that little midget rock sludge pal of Scotty's being comic relief because he likes to sit on machinery! What kind of obtuse garbage....uh...hurm... ::clears throat::...to bring the conflict to a successful termination all the resources of the country are hereby pledged by the High Clerics of Cyberspace against LA-Based Production Designers of Massive Budgeted "Science Fictions." Amen, or something.
So, anyway, Star Trek was one giant pile of silly.
Also, what's the deal with car batteries, eh?