Trailer Breakdown for Robocop

Two days ago, the official trailer for Robocop was released. This movie is a remake of the 1987 film (also called Robocop, rated R), the movie that set the standard for cheesy action figure wardrobe designs. The jury is still out on whether this remake movie is a brilliant idea or a terrible one, and you’re welcome to form your own opinion.

As it turns out though, I’ve realized that so far, I’ve only done trailer breakdowns for movies/shows that I’m excited about. That seems rather discriminatory. I’m an equal-opportunities blogger, after all. It’s time to analyze Robocop.

Detroit, Michigan, 2028.

*Sirens*

Fifteen years. Fifteen years, and the world looks nothing like it did in Disney’s Meet the Robinsons. What a disappointment.

Dear people who live in Detroit:

Move.

Bring in the cops?

I’m sorry, that was unintentionally insensitive of me.

“This is Detective Alex Murphy, officer down!”

Ben Affleck Batman.

“We are on the eve of a technological revolution.”

Nick Fury! Okay, I can get behind that.

Robocop: Starring the tech from the Iron Man movies. And Nick Fury from the Iron Man movies. You know what this movie needs? Iron Man from the Iron Man movies.

It never is.

“We need to get Americans to rally behind this.”

As Ivan Vanko from Iron Man 2 would say, “Drones better.”

We interrupt this set-up to bring you uneasy happiness.

What a sweet family. I’m glad they’re so happy and safe and secure in their future.

*Car alarm sounds*

Get it under control, man. People are trying to sleep here.

*Car alarm continues*

Don’t open the-

Is this your first car? Listen, just hit the unlock button on your key. It works wonders.

“PKRSSSHHHH”

Oh.

I’m being very insensitive today. Please excuse me.

“We’re gonna put a man inside a machine.”

What an original idea. I’m sure it couldn’t go wrong.

Hospitals in 2028 get far less efficient in their use of space, apparently.

“He’s suffered fourth-degree burns over 80% of his body…”

“… If he survives, he will be paralyzed from the waist down.”

“You say you can save him; what does that mean? What kind of life will he have?”

*Dramatic musical swelling*

Have I seen this scene before?

Mmm. Okay. Moving on.

“The hell did you do to me?”

Oh, you know, made you into a cyborg. The balding dude behind the desk thought it was a great idea. I don’t know why you’re so upset.

Oh, you like that visor? It’s triggered by murderous thoughts. I thought it was a nice touch.

“Make him more tactical, make him look, uh… Let’s go with black.”

Good call, balding dude. The gray suit was way too frilly. No one would have taken him seriously.

“When the machine fights, the system releases signals into Alex’s brain, making him think he’s in control.”

“But he’s not.”

“It’s the illusion of free will.”

“Oh, well, that seems foolproof.”

My main problem with future-based movies is that every character seems to have never seen a future-based movie.

“I’ve selected thirteen targets all wanted for murder.”

Thirteen? In one crowd?

Detroit goes waaay downhill in the next fifteen years, everyone. Spread the word.

“This is the future of American justice.”

Nick Fury, darling. You’re better than this.

And balder than this.

Go go gadget heat vision!

I hate to be nitpicky (that’s a lie), but I’m of the opinion that no movie with the prefix “robo” should have been allowed to come out after 1999.

“Alex!”

Stop in the name of looove

“You need to speak to your son.”

“Anything for justice, Ma’am.”

MGM and Columbia Pictures, I believe.

I’m sorry, Robocop, does your suit spontaneously generate weapons?

On an unrelated note, what do I have to do to get my car to blow up? 

Can’t we all just get along? I know plenty of perfectly happy cyborgs.

“Somehow, he’s overriding the system’s priorities.”

Again with the whole “I’ve-never-seen-a-movie-before” thing.

Do I see something exploding? How did the movie industry know I liked that?

Something else exploding! Can I pre-order my ticket now?

Coming February 2014

Oh wait, that’s not right.

Sorry about that little mix-up there.At least it’s not in 3D.

Using Awkward as Warfare

I am good at awkward.

True, this is not something that is commonly listed as a skill, but when you know how to use it, it most definitely is. Awkward is generally thought of as something that is good for nothing. Wrong. It’s the solution to a problem that has haunted mankind for ages: unwanted conversation. How to avoid it?

Many people try to solve this uncomfortable situation with courtesy, and quickly discover it only encourages. Using passive aggression may inspire the annoying person to try harder to annoy you (and it also makes you seem mean), and if you just ignore a person, it’s entirely possible that the ignoree will keep trying. However, if you use awkward to flounder the person into a stupor, you can kiss their unwanted company goodbye (in fact, if you insist on actually kissing them goodbye as they try to leave, it will be seventeen times more effective).

If you’re not naturally talented in the awkward department, I have some tips for you. It may take some practice, but it won’t be long before you can awkward yourself out of any situation.

[Disclaimer: if you become so good at these that you alienate everyone around you, I refuse to be held responsible]

• Avoid eye contact. Look at their forehead instead. Act as if it is the most beautiful thing you have ever gazed upon.
• Lick your lips deliberately. If you do it right, they’ll think they have something on their face and get so distracted trying to remove it that they won’t even notice you’re slowly backing away.
• Don’t hear anything they say. Make them repeat nearly every thing that comes out of their mouth, forcing them to hear twice how aggravating the conversation is for you.
• Stare. Don’t blink. If you combine this with the forehead-watching, the person to be avoided will probably run away before you have to.
• Don’t get their jokes. Make them explain to you, in the most painstaking way possible, why they are funny.
• Make references to things they don’t understand. Lie down on the floor and say you’re good at mermaid dancing (it’s a lot of floor work). Tell them you’re a high-functioning sociopath (“Do your research.”). Ask them whose side they take in the Marvel Civil War: Iron Man or Captain America? (If they answer, make them explain why) Compliment them on a clothing accessory and refer to it as cool. Then proceed to wiggle your eyebrows.

However, Awkward as Warfare is not without flaws, one being that if you use the last listed option and the other person understands the reference, you’ve just made a best friend, whether you like it or not. And please, don’t use these tips lightly. Remember: you will look weird. That’s the whole point. If you don’t have to use these methods, then don’t. Don’t use this veritable Mjolnir of information to squash a fruit fly.

I’ve entrusted you with great power.

(insert quip about responsibility)

Make me proud.

[Disclaimer part two: If you know me personally, and you’re worried I’ve used one of these on you – I haven’t. I’m very selective about who I use them on. So don’t worry. I’m just awkward.]

The Boy, The Dog, and The [Endearing] Drunkard

Guess what? I’m thinking about the quality literature of my childhood today. Prepare yourself for a very Tintin-centric post.

My Dad grew up reading the Tintin graphic novels (written by Herge, 1907-1983), and, good father that he is, he passed it along to me. Considering that I began my journey at around eight years old, it’s not hard to imagine that by now, I’ve read a good deal about Tintin and his adventures.

So it’s only natural that I want to be Tintin when I grow up.

For those of you haven’t partaken of this particular pleasure, let me explain.

Tintin is a Belgian reporter. Or so we’re told. Despite never actually reporting or working at all, Tintin manages to sustain a lifestyle as a well-known, well-traveled, successful young man.

And that, right there, is the American dream, ladies and gentlemen. Tintin gets paid [presumably] to go on adventures and use his status as a reporter to get everywhere.

China.

America.

Tibet.

Sydney.

The bottom of the ocean.

The moon.

Everywhere.

And everywhere he goes, he brings along his faithful companion, Snowy, whose sound effects baffled me for most of my early childhood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For real. I have still yet to accept “wooah” as an appropriate spelling for any noise made by a dog.

And, lest we forget, Tintin’s other recurring friend: a drunkard with a nasty temper and potty mouth. An endearing drunkard, however, so it’s okay.  Who doesn’t love Captain Haddock?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As you traverse this enrapturing and delightful series of graphic novels, you will encounter:

• Villains with terrible names

 

 

 

 

 

 

• Bad influences for children

 

 

 

 

 

 

• Long explanations that insure that you will never understand any plot fully until you can convince yourself to commit five minutes to reading the tiny, tiny script crammed into one panel

 

 

 

 

 

• Crippling jealousy over the fact that your boss doesn’t assign you to march off haphazardly into the unknown with questionable, yet endearing companions

 

 

 

 

 

• Humor lost on the age group that the stories were written for
• Fantastic storylines
• Adventure

These books were one of the hallmarks of my childhood, and I’ve yet to give them up in exchange for adulthood. I would absolutely recommend the original Tintin to anyone who likes the Tintin movie, likes quality and iconic literature, likes feeling awesome as they read a massive comic book, or has read Tintin in the past and needs a stroll down memory lane.

Thus ends today’s fangirling.

See you next time!

Self Day

People are amazing. Think about it: Souls with bodies with minds, and each one is special and unique.

Wow.

But let’s get real for a moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You don’t always want them around.

Sometimes you just want to have no one else within shouting distance. This post is to prepare you for those days, in case you receive one but aren’t sure what to do with it. I have some suggestions.

What to do when you have the house/apartment/shed in a stranger’s backyard to yourself:

• Sing. Forget talent. Sing as loudly as you can. I prefer showtunes, myself, but suit your own desires.
• Talk to yourself. All that thinking that you do inside your head when other humans are around? Say it out loud. You’ll never know how awesome your mind is until you speak it out loud in an accent that doesn’t belong to you.
• Dance. Goes well with the first option. Use a stuffed animal or a throw pillow as a partner if you feel so inclined.
• Bake. When baking with people around, you have to deal with pesky inquiries about what you’re making, whether they can eat half, and why you won’t buy ingredients yourself – but baking alone? Guess who’s eating an entire batch of cookie dough.
• Read out loud. More fun than it sounds, especially if you’re into doing different voices for each character (I’m a babysitter. Humor me.).
• Homework.
• Actually, yeah, you should probably do something productive too. It can be anything; you will feel immensely successful if you accomplish something while the others are away. But here’s the trick: you must make sure you are doing that thing when your roommate/family member gets home. Fill up the first few hours with the above activities, but within ten minutes of when your people said they’d be home, get busy. Then, no matter how much you’ve been blasting the Les Miserables soundtrack or reading Shakespeare in the strangest voices possible, it looks like you’ve been a good little boy scout all day.

Congratulations! Your day has been a success.

Now run along and play well with the others.

Dear Internet (AKA: The Conversation Everyone Has with the World Wide Web at Some Point)

Hello Internet.

I think it’s time we talked.

Please don’t get nervous, I know everyone dreads “the talk.” But I really need to know.

Internet, where is this relationship going?

I mean, hardly a day has gone by in the past year when we haven’t seen each other. It’s not like we don’t talk, but we never really communicate. Every time I think we’re making some progress, you always seem to change the subject. Remember yesterday? I was just trying to talk to you about organization and you were all, “Hey, have you heard about ‘Busty Girl Problems’? They’re freaking hilarious.”

And they were, man. They were.  But that isn’t the issue.

I’ve been trying to focus on school lately, you know that. So why is it you call me late at night just to hang out? It’s sweet, I understand that! Any woman would want someone so devoted. But to be perfectly honest, if we have to hang out in Google Chrome one more late night when I’m trying to do my homework, I’m going to puke.

And your friends! I don’t mean to be rude, but Facebook is ruining my life! Have you ever really spoken to that guy? He won’t. Stop. Gossiping. It’s gotten to the point where everyone he talks about I end up hating. I can’t tell if he just makes them look bad or if they really do suck as much as he makes them seem!

Youtube isn’t so bad, but once you start talking to him, you just can’t stop. He’s all, “Hey, if you like talking about Dr. Horrible, why not talk about Doctor Who or Sherlock or Lizzie Bennet?” And I’m like, “We’re already talking about Dr. Horrible though,” And he says, “It’s okay, I’ll just add it to our list of things to talk about later,” and I say, “You even have one of those? But I have homework!” and he says, “It’s okay, when I stop for breath you can pretend to read.”

I’m not going to complain about Tumblr. We’ve actually been pretty tight since I found out we like a lot of the same stuff. Even if I am pretty sure the lights are not all on upstairs. And I think she may be a stalker. She has a lot of pictures she shouldn’t have.

Pinterest. Don’t get me started. That woman is one crazy maniac. She thinks she knows everything about everything, but she’s always misquoting people and pretending to be something she’s not.

You sure can pick ‘em, Internet.

Maybe we aren’t as good together as I thought we were. I thought we were going to work as a team and achieve things we couldn’t do alone. But you don’t need me, do you? And you’re really not helping me as much as I feel I deserve in this relationship.

Don’t give me that look.

Stop. You know that pictures of kittens don’t work on me anymore. I’ve moved on.

Thank you for accepting that. That’s very mature. See? We’re two adults.

Well, one.

Half of one. Whatever.

What’s that? You have some inspirational quotes for me to help me on my journey?

Thanks.

…

Maybe we do deserve another try.