I am now only 3 posts behind. Sick.

Okay shit, call me blood thirsty or blame my upbringing but if your going to put out a 115 minute CG reel for your explosion and robot effects studio, couldn't you at least well.. you know, kill lot and lots of people in horribly violent ways?

I'm going to disregard the story as it seemed superfluous to the film, but to summate it involves Christian Bale forgetting he's not Batman, Sam Worthington forgetting he's not American and something to do with computers.

My issue with the film is how they've managed to take a ROBOT WARPOCALYPSE with A 90 FOOT ROBOT THAT SHOOTS MOTORCYCLES OUT ITS LEGS and have it turn out with such tiny cinematic balls?!

When the audience isn't being beaten to death by the constant introduction of useless characters who are practically begging to be gored through the chest, you're watching an already destroyed wasteland explode.
WHO CAN GIVE A SHIT?

I've assembled a list of things that will improve this film after those responsible read this review and recall their film for re-shoots:

- Assemble all the sub-characters, arrange them at the top of a staircase in order of height and have someone push them down (possibly a robot), pull back the shot frame to reveal that this staircase is located on top of an aircraft carrier circling a pit of cougars (possibly robot cougars)

- Keep the Post apocalyptic setting but give the destruction of the landscape levity and meaning by showing shots of buildings being filled with expensive televisions and children before they explode.

- Replace Sam Worthington's character with a current popular internet meme inorder to form a quick connection with the Gen Y market.
I suggest the current feline superstar, Keyboard Cat

- Maybe just re-write the script to follow the plot of the robot that shoots motorcycles out of it's legs.

Anyway, i give it this many


BWRECKSX

Social (Network) Critique.

The difference between Myspace and Facebook can be explained visually, via a comparison of a person's default user pics. The disparity between the ways in which we market ourselves on these websites is amazing, given that they were both created to serve similar purposes.

I have been empowered to perform this entirely creepy social commentary thanks to Myspaces' new ability to display your full name, and have gone to great lengths to ensure that every picture coupling does indeed belong to the same person. Internet creeping is the best.

Myspace:

Facebook:
*********
Myspace:
Facebook:********
Myspace:Facebook:*********
Myspace:Facebook:
I guess the social norm is to spend a little more time on your hair when posing for myspace.
My Chemical Romance fans just did something useful for the world.

x.stumpy.

People of Colour.

We here at str8 h8n are plain racist shit little dudes. Let me elaborate.

Michael Jackson once famously said "it don't matter if you're black or white." Look, the man could dance; but when it comes to matters of intellect, I'd question his authority. It fucking DOES matter if you're black or white. Because, if you don't fall somewhere within the spectrum of monochromatic shades you're responsible for making our world a terrible place.


Look at these guys, thinking that they're hip for rockin' colour. I cannot help but be plain offended. Film, TV, this blog - invented in black and white; So it seems that somewhere along the line it was decided that black and white images were sufficient for our purposes, and we had no need for perceiving in colour. I have to admit, I like this train of thought. If you ask me (which you do, because you follow me, remember) this idea extends to fashion. Please(!)

I do not need to remember that I once fell victim to the marketing power of Modular every time I leave the house. Modular is dead. So is colour. Monochromatic reigns. Str8 h8 fashion racists.

x.stumpy.

A note about the authors.

Ah. You've stumbled across our google existence... 

Welcome. 

Whilst they are meticulously collecting, bundling and selling data on the sorts of things B.Wrecks and myself are interested in for blatant marketing purposes, let me take a moment to qualify a few things about ourselves and our often shit intentions. 

We're two people, united by a common spite and love of sarcasm. I guess we owe this legacy to Napoleon. You know, that angry little dude. Yes; together I'd say we wouldn't stand much higher than 10ft tall, and so to say we suffer 'little dude syndrome' is not quite an understatement. In fact, we're going to use it to justify our behaviour. 

You, of average or above average height have only yourselves to blame. Our attitudes are shaped by the way you metaphorically and literally look down upon our straightened hair. Quick wit and vicious words are simply a way of overcompensating for our vertical challenges. If our blows are low, it can only be because we can't reach any higher than your crotch. 

We plan to overcome our inferiority by hiding behind a computer screen and calling you dense, bland or clichéd. Still, you will validate your internet existence by worshiping our majesty, holding us in high esteem, and following us religiously. 

In return, we make only one promise -  no one is safe. 

Napoleon turned the armies of the French Empire against every major European power; and we propose to turn you, of the blogging community, against your neighbour. This is the new world wide web. We need be your only information source.

In the time it has taken to write this post, Google will have concluded that stumpy is a little dude interested in all things related to world domination. They will flood B. Wrecks' email with amateur porn and sell him products concerning DIY and interior design. 

So there you have it. 

Read it and weep.

Because your tears can only cleanse us.

x.stumpy.

believe this.

THERE IS MAJESTY ON THE HORIZON.

STR8 H8 soon.