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Thursday, March 10, 2011

The Plot Of Voltron Is Hard To Follow

Since I’m still a little hesitant to revisit the mind-numbing horror that has become the “Tribute Of The Year” review, I’m typing this review of the first two episodes of Voltron with a hangover and only four hours of sleep because it seems like a really good idea and maybe it’ll make me want to pass out again before I go get my ass thoroughly kicked by Swans tonight at the Roseland.

Here’s my thesis:

Voltron makes no goddamned sense.

I know, I know… you’re like, “But Mort, it’s a show about magical robot lions! It's not like it needs to make perfect sense.” True. However, not only is your grammar questionable, but even a show about magical robot lions needs at least a semblance of coherency. Shit just makes no fucking sense AT ALL. My guess is that the source material was too culturally specific, violent and lengthy, so the people tasked with re-writing the thing were just like “Pbbbth… fuck it. This is a mess. Let’s get shit-hammered.” And oh, how they got shit-hammered.

We’ve got problems right out of the gate.

“From days of long ago, from uncharted regions of the universe, comes a legend. The legend of Voltron: Defender of the Universe! A mighty robot. Loved by good, feared by evil. As Voltron's legend grew, peace settled across the galaxy. On planet Earth, a galaxy alliance was formed. Together with the good planets of the solar system, they maintained peace throughout the universe, until a new horrible menace threatened the galaxy. Voltron was needed once more. This is the story of the super force of space explorers. Specially trained and sent by the Alliance to bring back Voltron: Defender of the Universe.”

That’s the opening voice-over. While your kid-mind is watching awesome robots fly around in space and make swords out of pure light and shit, your big-person mind doesn’t notice that Peter Cullen is spewing raw word sewage straight out of his lower face hole.


OooOOooh, shiny! Huh, plot?

“From days long ago...”
Uh huh, gotcha. I’m on this shit.

 “From uncharted regions of the universe, comes a legend…”
Stop. He’s just a legend? Has anyone even seen this motherfucker? Because that’s seeeeeeeriously imperative to the next two sentences making any kind of sense what-so-ever.

 "A mighty robot. Loved by good, feared by evil. As Voltron's legend grew, peace settled across the galaxy”
No really, has anyone SEEN this fucking thing? What kind of robot is so bad ass his mere legend brings peace to the ENTIRE UNIVERSE? Depending on character designation, everything in known existence either shits its pants in washing machine destroying terror, or immediately ejaculates rainbow-powered dolphins and fluffy singing kittens at the mere MENTION of this guy. He’s gotta have mad robot bitches on his robot jock! (Robot Jox jokes, aka "verbal pantie remover")

 “On planet Earth, a galaxy alliance was formed. Together with the good planets of the solar system, they maintained peace throughout the universe.”
Oh. Okay, so wait… what? Who brought the peace? Was it the legend of the robot, or… you know, the people of Earth and the other good planets who actually did shit? I don’t…

 “Until a new horrible menace threatened the galaxy.”
Oh shit, I take it this motherfucker never heard of Voltron. Someone want to email this assjacket and tell him ‘bout a whole fucking bucketful of VOLTRON?

“Voltron was needed once more.”
Where the hell did he go? I mean bringing peace to the universe is no small feat, so I guess it’s cool he took a holiday or whatever, but how long did he expect universal peace to last? You can’t put five people in a room stocked with Totino’s Pizza Rolls, a high def TV and the known library of PS3 games without some motherfucker gettin’ socked in his jaw over what Call of Duty game you’re going to play. The universe is a big place. Eventually someone’s gonna try to run game.

“This is the story of the super force of space explorers. Specially trained and sent by the Alliance to bring back Voltron: Defender of the Universe.” 
Well, he doesn’t appear to be defending shit at the moment does he? Where the fuck did he go?! How the hell do you maintain the title “Defender of the Universe” when five mongoloid non-robot lions have to go drag your ass out of bed TO DO YOUR JOB? 

Alright, Lucy got some ‘splainin’ to do and the show hasn’t even started yet, so maybe this will start to not be pure brain rot when we get the ball rolling.
Annnnnd, no. We’re barely a minute into the show and we already have Space Explorers (technical name, mind you) who are completely incapable of discerning terrestrial phenomena from non-terrestrial phenomena. The Space Explorers are on their way to the planet “Arus”, presumably because that’s where the Alliance thinks Voltron is. Approaching the planet it becomes apparent that “something’s wrong” which is an actual Space Explorer assessment of the situation. Two highly trained astronauts debate whether or not Arus is being “hit by an asteroid shower” or volcanically erupting before they come to the conclusion the planet is actually under attack.


"I honestly can't tell if it's some kind of planet wide 'casual Friday', or if it's the second coming of 
Star Jesus. We just didn't get this kind of training in space camp!"

Let’s just stop right here for a minute. Despite the fact that these people would seriously need to know their shit about pretty much every branch of science known to man, TWO, fucking TWO of them can’t discern whether the planet is being destroyed by rocks from outer space, or if a catastrophic volcanic event is taking place? I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, because it turns out some iron-balled dickbasket named Zarkon is laying waste to everything above ground. We’re talking about an attack that literally decimates every civilization on this planet in a MATTER OF ONE MINUTE. Seriously, I can’t even piece together the timeline here but I’ll try, because I know it sounds like I’m leaving something out or just not understanding a vital piece of the plot. However this entire scene is maybe- maaaaaybe- 2 minutes long. Here’s a breakdown of what just happened:

1. Astronauts mistake a planet-wide military strike for possible natural phenomena.

2. Astronauts deliver explanatory dialogue regarding a hostile planetary invasion instead of oh, I don’t know… immediately radioing for fucking backup.

3. We’re treated to some footage of several “weird attack ships” (actual Space Explorer jargon) and troops entering the cities of Arus, as well as a number of snakes and dragons who are apparently either part of Zarkon’s attack plan or simply being mind controlled by the dude. I’d also like to point out that Arus’ entire military defense force seems to consist of four terrified mice who were presumably obliterated in the enemy invasion’s warp speed destruction of everything in sight.


When you reach down into a pile of mouse droppings that used to be your best friends face, 
you'll know what to do!

4. Astronauts finally DO radio the Alliance and tell them THEY’RE GOING IN BY THEMSELVES. I imagine the half of the conversation we missed went something like “I think we got this. Y’all just chill out and get some mojito’s or something.”

5. The whole planet of Arus is nuked by Zarkon. WHY DID HE SEND TROOPS?

6. Astronauts finally arrive on planet Arus.

7. Astronauts are immediately captured by the dude who just bombed the planet back to the corn age.

Here’s what I don’t get. Twice in this opening scene it’s mentioned that the Space Explorers have what are called “telescanners”. It’s later shown that these “telephonic scanners” (yeah, I don’t get it either, but apparently they do some kind of reconnaissance “scanning”) have the ability to detect other ships. If they’re that sophisticated how the fuck did they not know the planet was being completely destroyed by enemy forces at the onset of this whole ordeal? They couldn’t just “telescan” the giant fucking fleet attacking the planet? Not to mention the Alliance had no military presence in that part of the galaxy or even any kind of intelligence what-so-ever with regards to an army LARGE ENOUGH TO DESTROY A PLANET moving through what would almost certainly have to be Alliance regulated space? How the hell you fuckwits managed to keep any kind of peace without that giant magical lion robot for any period of time at all is beyond me.

So our heroes have been captured by a guy who is either an evil reptilian king or a space pirate (both back stories are proffered in the same expositional sentence), a peaceful planet has been destroyed in an act of unprovoked terrorist aggression, and our brick shithouse magic robot is nowhere to be found.  Let’s check in with the military geniuses back on Earth. I’m sure they’ve got some kind of plan.

Nope.

Not even shitting you. I have no idea who these people are in terms of what their rank or role in the Alliance is, but basically these military guys spend about ten seconds making the decision to say “fuck it, let the Space Explorers fend for themselves”. Then the head military guy comes up with the most brilliant plan ever: Fucking Voltron! Voltron could totally save their asses! That’s seriously his plan. And here’s where I need about fifty bajillion Excedrin. Weren’t the Space Explorers on a mission to find Voltron? Furthermore Voltron is supposed to be on Arus, the surface of which is now nuclear toast and the Space Explorers are being carted to Zarkon’s prison planet which is “2,000 light years away”. Maybe, just maybe you numbnuts should send another goddamned team to Arus to get Voltron instead of relying on the team that just got captured to somehow escape a prison planet and fly an alien spaceship back to the planet where Voltron lives?! AGHKJAHAKJHGWG!!!!

How did I watch this shit when I was a kid? Oh yeah… bitchin’ robot toys.

Calm… Calm… nice cuppa tea. Got another seventeen minutes or so to go… CALM… CALMMMMMMTTTGHHH…

So, apparently the reason Zarkon sent troops to the surface of Arus was to grab some slaves before he destroyed the planet, which actually explains why the troops were shown marching into Arus’ major cities before Zarkon went all Fatboy and Little Man on their asses. That the troops were there to capture slaves could have been visually represented as it was happening, but whatever. It’s the only thing that makes any sense at all so far, so I’ll take it and cherish it and pray it blossoms into a big strong tree called “Oh, Now The Rest Of This Shit Is Intelligible.”

At any rate we’re treated to some footage of the slave ship returning to Planet Doom (which is seriously the most badass name for a planet EVER) and some dialogue about preparing the slave quarters and then we cut to Zarkon’s throne room. Here, Zarkon delivers some lines that make me question exactly how this universe works:

Zarkon – “Planet Arus is defeated and I, Zarkon, rule the entire universe!”

Hold up. You nuked a planet that had ZERO, and I mean fucking ZERO military force and that was the crux of your plan to RULE THE FUCKING UNIVERSE? How the hell does that work? That was the ONLY THING ZARKON DID. He blew up a peaceful planet and now he rules the universe. No one in the universe has ANY kind of weapons or bombs or military ships? Anything? For serious, a couple of spitballs and one of those paper clip launchers made out of rubber bands would give the Alliance at least some kind of a fighting chance. Here, check out this next bit of dialogue in case you thought that perhaps Zarkon just overlooked the Alliance’s militaristic capabilities.

Zarkon – “And with the capture of the Space Explorers, I need no longer fear the Alliance!”

That was it. The mental giants who decided to FLY INTO A PLANET WIDE NUCLEAR ENEMY ASSAULT with NO BACKUP were the ONLY thing resembling an armed force in the entire UNIVERSE, and they were captured IMMEDIATELY.

Oh, by the way, since they’re just sitting around in a dungeon like jackasses, let’s take some time to get to know our service-men, shall we? That way we know exactly how much asparagus to eat before we piss on their memorial:

Commander Keith Cogane – Mullet. Appears to be the leader.

Lance – Appears to be CroMagnon. Also mullet.

Pidge – Gay midget. How do I know this? Ascot and hairband. Vocal predecessor to Meatwad.

Sven -  Incredibly racist Norwegian stereotype. I wish him to die.

Hunk – Fat loudmouth. When not stating the blatantly obvious, his abysmal attempts at humor are likely to earn him a blanket party.

I should probably mention another character that was introduced here named Haggar. She’s a witch and she has a cat that is unsettlingly interested in the arrival of the Space Explorers at the castle dungeon. Zarkon quipping “Kitty is excited!” is literally the grossest thing I’ve ever heard in a children’s cartoon.


"VAGINA IS LUBRICATED"

So now we learn that Zarkon has captured these slaves ENTIRELY for entertainment purposes. He’s built a giant arena and the creepy people of whatever the hell this nation is called all gather to watch the comically under-armed, potato-headed combatant/slaves get mercilessly slaughtered by the “Robeasts”. What are Robeasts, you ask? I don’t know either, so fuck you. The more pressing question is why Zarkon kidnapped slaves just to murder them for entertainment. That reallllly seems like a giant waste of resources. We’re talking about manned, intergalactic space missions to capture the slaves, housing and feeding the slaves, cleaning up slave guts, maintenance on Robeasts should they get damaged, etc. I’m not quite sure what Planet Doom’s chief export is, but shouldn’t the slaves be put to more constructive work than just getting liquified by the blue Robeast (who is actually more of a dark purple hue, by the way)? Shit, have the slaves BUILD Robeasts. At least that way you get some kind of compensation for their expensive, yet ignoble deaths.

Back in the dungeon, the Space Explorers have temporarily decided to take some time off from being the universe’s worst and only line of defense, and brute force their way out of their prison. Using a rope made of bed sheets that only exist because the writer discovered he needed them to, the Space Explorers begin to descend down the castle wall. Twenty seconds later they’re set upon by the GIANT VULTURES that were clearly visible from the prison window. As noted by Keith, this actually turns out to be something of a boon as the vultures deliver them from the castle to a… festering pit of blood and bones. Sven remarks “I’ll always think they’re beautiful” in his horrendous mockery of what someone who has never heard one thinks a Scandinavian accent sounds like and our intrepid spacemen sit around praying for some reason before wobbling off to do something else extremely stupid.

Not realizing the guards who frequently patrol their cellblock might notice they’ve gone missing, our bumbling crew of ass-tronauts (had to do it, I swear I did) IMMEDIATELY head BACK INTO Castle Doom instead of using the survival skills that the Alliance bigwigs have told us they’re so proficiently trained in to camp out for a night and assess the situation.  The crew comically jump-flips into an air duct and, since they’re all masters of stealth, instantaneously set off a booby trap consisting of spiked iron doors and FLYING SWORDS that also attracts the attention of the guards. A quick fight through a few paper thin sentries and the Space Explorers actually manage to pilot one of the alien slave ships out of the landing bay. In a fit of brilliance that I’m sure he must’ve later justified with “Dude, I was just really in the moment, you know?” Commander Keith Cogane SMASHES THE SHIP INTO ZARKON’S TOWER, for a quick, “Hey, fuck you dude!”  This alerts Zarkon to the escape and further endangers an already extreeeeemely dodgy plan.

Cut to Castle Doom.  Zarkon is mega-pissed at a guy I didn’t even know had a name until now. Zarkon’s all, “YOU BUNGLED AGAIN, URAK!” and Urak is like “Yeah, my bad. They’re not terribly hard to catch though, so I’ll just nip right out there and grab ‘em right quick.” Turns out, Urak is actually pretty good at that shit and he hits the fleeing vessel with “ALL LAZERS!” which has to be the coolest weapon ever. ALL LAZERS is like a bajillion times more powerful that SOME LAZERS. You might as well bring a fart sandwich to a fight if you’re gonna try to battle ALL LAZERS with SOME LAZERS, cause that shit is weak.

Now, you’d think that maybe since this shit started making a little bit of sense that perhaps we’d be treated to a trend of shit making sense. Not so. Shit stops making sense quicker than you can push a giant business suit-wearing David Byrne to the ground and yell “THE FOREST SUCKED!”. A tractor beam takes hold of the damaged ship and… I don’t know. I’m real fuzzy on this part. Arus is like a completely different planet, right? So somehow, the Space Explorers are tractor beamed from inside the gravitational field of Planet Doom ALLLLLLLLLLLLL the way to Planet Arus, where they’re brought to the fabled Castle of Lions.

How do I know it’s the fabled castle of Lions? Let’s let the dialogue do the talking:

Sven - “Look, our power (I presume he means the tractor beam) is coming from that statue of a lion!” Immediately after uttering this phrase he’s beaten to death with a length of Norwegian horse sausage. Well, not really, but I imagined he was and I was immensely pleased.

Pidge – “Huh… A castle! I’ll bet that’s the legendary CASTLE OF PIGFUCK! No wait… I mean lions! I bet that’s the legendary Castle OF PIG-FUCKING LIONS.”



From there it just devolves into Hunk fisting Pidge for like an hour and a half.  

Then Hunk shoves about a billion sliders into his mouth and says something like, “MMMPHABLAPABLAB MOLTRON?!”

And YET AGAIN we’re told about how MOTHERFUCKING BADASS VOLTRON IS. I GET IT OKAY, HE’S LIKE A ROBOT SHAFT ON TECHNOCRACK. GOT IT. NO MORE PLEASE.

Then we find out that the witch with the sexually deviant cat broke apart Voltron into a bunch of magic lions. Why she didn’t just destroy him is beyond me, but legend has it, according to Keith, that if they can find all the hidden lions dens the lions will “all come together and attach somehow”. Somehow? What? You don’t know how they fucking attach? What the hell are you assholes doing?!!!!!! GFJGHAEJHJGKGLJWBB!!!!!

Ed. Note: I found Balzac in a puddle of bloody urine and this was about as far as he got. I’m pretty sure it’s the end of the episode, so here you go. I put him on some meds and I’ve ordered a dialysis machine. Once he’s better I’ll try to get him to crank out the review of the second half of this two parter.

"Show Me On The Doll Where The Black Eyed Peas Touched You."

Initially I had planned on writing a fairly short and straightforward critical analysis of the Super Bowl  XLV half–time show. Featuring one of my least favourite musical acts ever performing twelve minutes of what very well may be the worst televised audio/visual spectacle since the Star Wars Christmas Special, I allege a great wrong was visited upon my mental faculties. What follows is pretty much the police report my brain filed after surviving what could easily be argued as “Aggravated Mental Assault And Battery” in a court of law. You’ll pardon me now while I go to Mexico to pay a guy I know in Juarez to replace my brain with a brain shaped bag full of time release heroin.

It's not as if the paragons of taste that organise Super Bowl half-time shows have a history of not producing forgettable, snooze inducing spectacles, but I'm almost certain that I very briefly experienced what it's like to have narcolepsy at the start of this show. "Tonight", or whatever the fuck it's called (because I'm seriously not going to Google the words to a song that consists almost entirely of the word "tonight") is the epitome of songwriting laziness and cringe inducing lyrics. The track recycles the same tired progression for five IQ lowering minutes while Patty Wets-Herself and crew blather on about "the night" and "spending up" the freight ships of money they make from passing aural smegma off as music people should tolerate. Here we have "Tonight, Good Night (It’s Gonna Be A Good Night, It’s Gonna Be A Real Good Night, It’s Gonna Be A Good, Good Night)" condensed into less than a minute, proving that not only is the track is un-listenable at any length, but... what the fuck are you people wearing? You look like rejects from the set of “Mad Max 4: Kegger At The Discodrome”. I'm not quite sure how Will.I.Am got a hairnet from the year 2089, but if The Black Eyed Peas can time travel then we might as well just nuke ourselves into oblivion right now. Wait a minute, though... What if they catch wind of the impending nuclear holocaust they’ve sparked, time travel to right before it happens and install themselves as some sort of pop demig... OH MY GOD. MARTHA, GET MY GUN! THIS ENDS HERE.


"See this thing on my head? It cost more than a Prius."


Only being vaguely familiar with the second song of this... football medley? I know I've interrupted at least three of my sentences so far, but seriously this shit is short circuiting my brain. Do other countries, or even sports for that matter, pull this shit? What the hell does this have to do with the game? Are football fans so goddamned brain-dead they need 15 minutes of whatever this shit is just to pump them up for a bunch of guys smashing into one another and playing grabass for 4 hours?

At any rate, since it was endlessly repeated for the duration of the minute and a half cum eternity of the snippet, I surmised that the title of the second bit was called “Boom Boom Boom”. Curious, I actually Googled this one and found out it's called "Boom Boom Pow". At this point I went to my happy place. My happy place is kind of like the very end of "Stand By Me". In my happy place I had an epic, cinematic adventure as a young adolescent and it powerfully shaped my life in dynamic and meaningful ways, and now I'm a successful writer with a loving wife, a beautiful home and children and I don't write about things I hate for comedic effect or possible republication on an hilarious online website. Then, through this beautiful dream of a satisfying life of hard work and savvy choices, I hear Fergie’s autotuned "voice" choke out the line "I'm so two-thousand and eight, you so two-thousand and late!". And with a pitiful whine, not unlike that of a dying dog or a morbidly obese person whose just realised they've run out of deep fried cake at the "Fuck the American Heart Association" buffet, I return to reality and continue to watch the people on my screen fail miserably at entertaining me.

I have to admit the "glowy" people are kind of neat though, which scores this comedy of terrors at least one point for a review I wasn’t even aware I was keeping score in. For the record, I'm not. For those of you who haven’t watched this monstrosity, the “glowy” people I refer to are hundreds of dancers in formation, wearing what I assume to be extremely sophisticated remote controlled light-up LED suits. I say “I assume” they’re extremely sophisticated because, at times, large swathes of the formations are blacked out. It’s a bit like the hugest, most expensive "hunt for the busted Christmas light bulb" in history. Remeber all those colour-guard kids that even you used to pick on while wearing your 16th level Paladin costume? Yeah, they work for the Super Bowl now.

Alright, so that garbage is over and... OH GOD TURN FERGIE’S AUTOTUNE BACK ON RIGHT THIS FUCKING MINUTE! If it wasn't a technical call on Fergie's part to turn off the autotune when she horridly screeched "PEOPLE IN THE PLAAEIAIACCE" (translation mine) then I bet the guy running the sound on Fergie’s channel had his throat slit at the end of this performance. At the beginning of the show the volume on her vocal channel was at zero for nearly a full second and now this. I'm betting his forensically disfigured corpse is being buried somewhere under the astroturf of Cowboys stadium by Fergie herself as I write this review. Actually, I think it might have been her that made the call to sing without crutches. What the fuck is she doing? It sounds like thirty cats with terminal feline AIDS in heat are having some sort of deathmatch orgy in her larynx. And why the hell is she imploring Will.I.Am to "drop them beats, now"? He's not even doing anything aside from looking like a bedazzled Luftwaffe general and kind of, sort of singing with the help of computers. Gods this is painful. Wait, is that... Oh wow, I guess they're going to cover "Sweet Child Of Mine".  Annnnd Slash just rose up from beneath the stage on a smoke filled platform. If I were him, I would literally hike my guitar at Will.I.Am's throat (he's got that protective head gear on and we're looking for a disabling blow here) and drop kick one of Fergie’s tits into the end-zone. Well, since he's not doing that, let's see how this goes (protip:  it goes badly).

Alright, for starters, did we really need a giant neon arrow of glowy people pointing at Slash? I mean, yeah, I guess in the nosebleed section motherfuckers were like "Slash! Where!?" and the arrow was kind of helpful. At that point, however,  you couldn't fucking see anyone else anyway so it's completely redundant. I find the fact that the neon arrow pulsates like a bioluminescent deep sea squid horrifyingly hilarious. I’ll just go ahead and assume Cthulu choreographed that bit.


"Up next on Blue Planet: Life At The Sea Vent, Slash performs a medley of songs from The Little Mermaid."


So by my estimate I’d say, note-wise, Fergie had about a 60% accuracy rating in her butchering of forty seconds of the first half of the first verse of “Sweet Child Of Mine”, which is approximately 59.5% more than I expected her to hit within an estimated .5% margin of error. It’s actually kind of frightening that Axl's vocal range is well above hers. Have we confirmed that Fergie’s not really a dude? Not that it would matter. I mean, it’s not like it would make her any cooler or anything, but it might explain the shoulder pads. What’s with her vocal inflection here? She sounds like she’s channeling Scott Weiland via Eartha Kitt on Quaaludes and she seems to be hanging onto Slash like he’s an upended chaise lounge. I’m half blinded by his goddamned DIAMOND ENCRUSTED TOPHAT, but think I can see Slashes paycheck jutting out of the headband and it’s got more zero’s than the national deficit (loldeficit). Also, if you listen closely, Slash totally fucked up the vast majority of the song. Virtually none of it was in time and he even flubs a few parts. To be fair, I mean, dude is wearing black sunglasses at night and he seems to be smouldering, suggesting that perhaps his underclothes are have caught fire. So I guess, for what it’s worth, he did a somewhat respectable job. Rock stars never die, they just whore themselves out for vacuous shit like this so they can afford that next sweet hit of liquid crack-amphetamine.

Okay, that was painful. Extra super duper, paper cuts over 75% of my body painful. What fresh hell is nex… ALLAH FUCK ME WITH A CHAINSAW, NOT MISIRLOU TOO!!!!
Ow.
Owwwwww.
Hold on a second. Where the fuck did Slash go? No, seriously. He just disappeared. I thought he might have been playing Misirlou but A: the guitar was in time with the beat and B: when they cut back he had vanished.  I was kind of hoping he would comically descend back down to whatever pit of nude women and cocaine he was elevated from at the start of the song, but I guess he just unceremoniously hopped off the side of the platform to go freebase super-heroin with an unemployed cheerleader or something.

Getting back to Misirlou, this sucks. I was not aware this Black Eyed Peas song even existed, so again I put my trust in a shadowy multi-billion dollar search corporation and came to find that it’s a song called “Pump It” they released in 2006. I love Misirlou, don’t get me wrong, but it’s one of the most played out surf songs in the history of surf music. In fact, it’s not even a surf song. It’s a traditional Greek folk song that Dick Dale rearranged on a bet that he couldn’t play a rockin’ surf banger on one guitar string, going to show that you should never bet Dick Dale shit, ‘cause he’ll smoke your ass for breakfast and make a bajillion dollars off the resultant hit song.

The above information isn’t really common knowledge, but the song is incredibly popular. Even if you’ve never heard another surf song in your life, most people with any sort of pop cultural reference have seen Pulp Fiction.
Apparently not Will.I.Am.
According to Will.I.Am¹, not only had he never even heard the song until sometime in 2005 (an event which apparently inspired him to ruin it), the compilation CD he bought that it was featured on wasn’t even something he intended to buy. Then via a kind of musical “Planes, Trains and Japanese Parks & Recreations Divisions” he put the song together on various modes of public transit and recorded the vocals in a park in Japan. And that’s how we went from:

My Misirlou your sweet glance
Has lit a flame in my heart.
Oh, My love, Oh, My Night
Your two lips are dripping honey, ah.
-Traditional Greek lyrics

To this:

When we play you shake your ass
Shake it, shake it, shake it girl
Make sure you don’t break it, girl
Cause we gonna
Turn it up
-Something Will.I.Am scribbled on a discarded bento napkin

Alright, focus. The research for the previous song provided me with enough of a distraction that I think I might be able to muddle my way through the rest of this pabulum. Up next is the innocuous “Let’s Get It Started”. Truth be told, this song doesn’t really inspire in me the kind of vitriolic hatred that most of the other Black Eyed Peas songs do. Other than the fact that it was the one boring, unfunny part of Hot Tub Time Machine, “Let’s Get It Started” is just a pop flat-line for me. Let’s see if there’s anything I can ridicule in the Pea’s glorified million dollar karaoke of the thing. Well… they’re still wearing those stupid light-up clothes.


And the basic concepts of Tetris seem to have escaped them.

What’s next? Oh hey, Usher! He’s a bit of alright in my book. He’s got some tunes I like, actually. Annnnnd, this is not one of them. Kind of like “Let’s Get It Started”, this song is just boring and predictable. The dancing is pretty tight, though. Usher does this massive jump split over Will.I.Am at one point that I’m pretty sure he needed surgery for after the show. If not for nothing, the brave face he put on after a five foot drop directly to his man-purse is the highlight of the show so far. Is this songs title an internet acronym? It is. Those new BMI character restrictions on song title lengths are fucking Draconian, man!

Moving along, next we have the obligatory, bleeding heart, “shave the homeless, kids shouldn’t live out of the trunk of a Honda Civic, Mr. President jam your finger up the countries collective rectum and stimulate our job prostate” song, “Where Is The Love?” Those last two boring songs lulled me into a false sense of complacency. I was almost certain I would have nothing to spew acrid complaints about for the rest of the video (three minutes and counting, still), but lo and behold they shat this saccharine turd directly into my ear canal. Aww, Taboo’s light-up jacket has a little light-up red heart on it. He looks like an S&M tin man. I have no desire to find out what kind of lube he’s got in his “oil can”. On a serious tip is there anything more reprehensible and obnoxious than rich pop artists lugubriously vomiting another "peace anthem" into the collective public consciousness? I'm no warmonger, but the the line "makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends" is so staggeringly hypocritical it both honestly calls into question the writers sanity² and is enough to drive anyone with half a brain to write in "Pol Pot's reanimated corpse, Haile Mariam, or maybe even Gaddafi if he survives this Libya thing" on the next presidential election ballot.  Did Will.I.Am just rhyme “mama” with “mama”? Someone really needs to fucking tell that guy that rhyming a word with the same goddamned word isn’t rhyming. Its brain damage and he needs to see a neurologist immediately.

Speaking of brain damage, let’s say you’re the music director for a massive sporting organisation and you’re in charge of coordinating a 13 minute medley of boring or downright awful songs. Where do you put the sensitive “save the world” song? A song wherein its authors plead to God to “send some guidance from above”? Directly after Usher flies down from the ceiling of a superdome to sing a song about how he fell in love with a girl at a bar that contains the line “Honey got some boobies like wow, oh, wow”, of course. Come on people, this isn’t Farmville here. These decisions affect people’s lives.

Oh god. What’s happening now? Are they going to sing “Time Of My Life”? Luckily they can’t really ruin that song because it was crap to begin with. I never thought I’d say this but this is the first time I’ve ever been glad to hear this song. Well, not glad. Something approaching “less enraged than I currently am”, I guess would be the sentiment I’m searching for. Oh sweet, the Blockheads from Gumby are here… prancing to the chorus of a song off the “Dirty Dancing” soundtrack. What the fuck is happening? This is like the collective bad trip of a million dead party kids. Ah, it’s the bookend to the medley. Good, this shit is over.


The Dada horror, however, can not be unseen.

The whole field turns into a rave, the squarehead showgirls trigger a cough syrup flashback in a part of my brain I don't think even existed before I watched this crap, the Peas start naming off days of the week and implore the nation to “party everyday” and four hours of my life I can never reclaim are wasted writing about an event everyone in the known universe will forget completely in a month’s time. I hope you’ve enjoyed my agony. I sure as hell haven't. But the lulz, people. Where is the lulz? They was inside you all along.

Good night, and good lulz.