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Robocalypse NOPE
February 17, 2015
The Robot Apocalypse Will Be Bristol Palin on The Secret Life of the American Teenager
June 24, 2010
Pandemonium has struck!
ANYWAYS, the last time we checked in on ABC Family’s The Secret Life of the American Teen, dear reader and occasional contributor Shmathan brought to our attention the latest scientific findings in the dangers of incredible sex. Since then, however, Shmathan has left left for the far more lucrative world of corporate law. It is sad, yes, but blog life must go on. My point is that sometimes in life, things change. But you know what hasn’t changed? The fact that The Secret Life of the American continues to look really terrible. See, for example, Bristol Palin’s ACTING debut:
Important Findings in the Album Art for Christina Aguilera’s Bionic
June 11, 2010
Over on Facebook, a friend of mine described Christina Aguilera’s Bionic as mostly consisting of “transparent attempts to pander to obnoxious queens.” I recognize that taste is a subjective thing, so he could be wrong, but he did study music production, so I’m willing to trust his critical assessment on this matter. Besides, it probably explains why I’m enjoying Bionic so damn much. After all, if Christina Aguilera’s latest album was an early-to-mid-90s Marvel Comic character, she’d be Nymphomaniac Robotranny Joan Crawford 2099:
In which case, how could I not love this nonsense?
Some of the songs, like “I Am” (co-written by Sia and painfully lovely in its chamber pop minimalism) and the glorious “My Girls” (a Le Tigre-penned track with a Peaches rap interlude, so electropop fantastiche), are legitimately good songs; other songs, like the ode to muff diving called “Woo Hoo” and the oh-so-unsubtly titled “Sex for Breakfast,” feature lyrics so cartoonishly sexual that they could fit right into Showgirls: The Musical (book and lyrics by Joe Eszterhas, music by Andrew Lloyd Weber on a burritos and meth bender). And then there’s “Vanity,” a song that scales to such heights of camp absurdity that it’s another post all unto itself. Bionic may be neither a work of high art nor a pop masterpiece, but much of it’s so frequently batshit crazy and so thoroughly listenable that I find it irresistible.
ANYWAYS, as I was flipping through the album art for Bionic (which is as bonkers and fabulous–if not even more so–than the album itself), I had a revelation, and that revelation was that Christina Aguilera and I both share a love of Karen Black in The Day of the Locust. Here’s Karen Black on the poster for The Day of the Locust:
The Robot Apocalypse Will Be Christina Hendricks
June 4, 2010
So fabulous, of course:
And, as Robot Apocalypses are wont to be, f*ckin’ bleak. Slant Magazine‘s blog, The House Next Door, was kind enough let me share my crazy about the new Broken Bells video for “The Ghost Inside,” so fetch yourself a some glamourous glasses and a poolside martini and check it out over here.
The Robot Apocalypse Will Be Adorable, Officiate Your Wedding
May 18, 2010
I mean, I guess it’s great to be the couple of nerds that fall in love and decide that the best way to express your commitment to each other is by having the first wedding ever performed by a robot. People spend their whole lives hoping to make that sort of connection, even though that connection usually doesn’t involve bringing us closer to the day Skynet became self-aware, but you know what? These people found each other, and that’s a rare and wonderful thing, y’all:
On the other hand, we’re still talking about the Robot Apocalypse, which hasn’t yet stopped being the worst, which still means QUIT IT, JAPAN/NERDS.
When Christina Aguilera Tickles Your Gay Fancy, She Pre-Sells Another Copy of Bionic
April 27, 2010
I may know about as much about selling records as I do about finding the G-spot (a surprising amount, actually!), which is precisely why I concur with Christina Aguilera that tranny glambot from outer space is a great look to put on the cover for your latest album, Bionic:
Think about it for a second and you’ll realize how this cover has great crossover appeal for both Joan Crawford enthusiasts AND cyborg fetishists. Genius!
Also, if this promotional photo from the video for “Not Myself Tonight” is any indicator, she’s also wisely courting fans of Showgirls, Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” video, and leather daddies. Or in other words, quite possibly every gay man on Earth:
Hot Chip’s “She Wolf” Is Your New Favorite Disco Fabulous Gay Robot Cover of a Shakira Song
April 16, 2010
While I can admit without reservation that I love me some “She Wolf” by Shakira, I’m also quite suspect of anything that even resembles a robot because you can’t have a horrific robot apocalypse without robots. Thankfully for us, Hot Chip is a band composed of actual people (so they say), and their cover of Shakira’s “She Wolf” merely sounds like robots. Dazzling disco drag queen robots to be precise. And even though the interwebs have sadly yet to bless us with a shot-for-shot remake of the Shakira video starring a tranny robot, they’ve been kind enough to give us this fan video, which is…I don’t even know what it is:
Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner’s Terribly Timely and Totally Irresponsible Recaps: OSCARS!
March 9, 2010
You know, it’s times like this that I wonder if I should’ve devoted Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner to something like cat farts as opposed to pop culture because it’s hard to over think three hours of cat farts; real talk: blogs about cat farts write themselves. Blogs that try to recap rather paint-by-numbers Oscar ceremonies? Not so much.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like last night’s Academy Awards ceremony was an interminable bore. After all, the woman whom shall henceforth forever be known on the interwebz as “Lady Kanye” has us all talking about the Best Documentary Short win, which is a real coup for a category of movies I know to exist only because they continue to get awards every year; otherwise, I remain vaguely convinced documentary shorts are like the Sasquatch of cinema, but I digress.
My point is that the Oscars were totally fine in the way that a largely predictable three-and-a-half hour Hollywood circle jerk is totally fine, but Oscar party margaritas have a tendency to make most anything better, so if it was worse than just watching a bunch of people win the same awards we’ve been seeing them win all awards season, I honestly wasn’t paying attention. Anywho, this ping-pong-ball-sized kidney stone of a blog post ain’t gonna pass itself, so let’s take one last look back and throw out some patently irresponsible kudos and sassy finger snaps to a few of the more mentionable moments:
First off, kudos are certainly in order for Mo’nique. I’ve heard her performance is excellent, and I might even one day be able to personally attest to that, but even those few moments they showed during the Oscars were enough to thoroughly disturb me, and I really don’t need any more fodder for my nightmares. Particularly when the Oscars were already getting ad revenue from the ultimate nightmare fuel:
At Least the Robot Apocalypse Will Still Have Bad Community Theater
March 5, 2010
And now, from its creators, a few words on the RoboThespian:
As an actor, it is a mirror. The most difficult question you may have to answer yourself is: ‘what am I for?’ RoboThespian™ demonstrates that utility is not a prerequisite for existence, a concept familiar to the artist but alien to the engineer. ‘Necessity is the mother of invention’, a received wisdom, but necessity is not the mother of this invention, I doubt they are even related at all.
This is very true, inventors of a thing that most definitely should not exist. I’m pretty sure a particularly embittering failed bid at Broadway stardom (aka, too many double shifts at the Times Square Red Lobster without a single call back for that chorus line spot in Carnival Cruise’s production of Seussical) and an unintentional death wish for the human race are the mother of your invention. For realsies, nothing else explains the waking nightmare that is witnessing this…this thing in action:
The Black Eyed Peas’ “Imma Be Rocking That Body” Is Epic, Makes Total Sense
February 18, 2010
Only one of the above statements is true. Given that this 10-minute plutonium-powered crazy train video contains break-dancing robots and silver Phantom of the Opera masks and the Black Eyed Peas shooting people with dance rifles, can you guess which one?
At least the video explains the break-dancing robots and silver Phantom of the Opera masks and the Black Eyed Peas shooting people with dance rifles by saying it was all Fergie’s motorcycle crash fueled dream, which I suppose makes “Imma Be Rocking That Body” the love child of Mulholland Drive and a gang bang with the robots from Terminator Salvation. And while this video is easily the most fun Robot Apocalypse EVER, it’s also undeniable proof of the following:
Things That Should Not Exist: The TrueCompanion Sex Robot
January 11, 2010
In life, it’s one sexually icky and utterly terrifying portent of the robot apocalypse to dress a robot up in a schoolgirl outfit and program her with some rudimentary dance moves; however, it’s a whole new bag of nightmares when you’ve created an anatomically correct ladybot with five separate sexy personalities for “companionship”:
On one hand, the only thing worse than the robot apocalypse happening is the knowledge that the robot apocalypse will demand mustache rides as part of human enslavement.
On the other hand, silver linings, y’all:
Sweet Shimmying Moses, Japan! Must You So Recklessly Play With the Flames of the Robot Apocalypse?!?
December 1, 2009
There is no reason for anyone to like robots. For one thing, they could very well be the harbingers of the apocalypse. Also, they’re just creepy. Even Asimo, that robot by Honda:
He is NOT to be trusted. First he will replace the world’s interns and personal assistants by winning your trust when he brings you your half-caff soy latte just the way you like it, then he will be use his built-in milk-steamer/laser-canon to exterminate you and your coworkers during the robot uprising. Duh.
That said, Asimo has nothing on this monstrosity from the Sixth Annual ROBO-ONE GATE IN INTERNATIONAL ROBOT EXHIBITION 2009 Dance Competition. She’s basically the dead-eyed posterbot of my waking nightmares:
Crushing On Colin Farrell Is the New Riding A Bicycle
August 11, 2009
Back during my freshman year of college, if you asked me how I felt about about Colin Farrell, you’d probably not get a coherent response so much as a stream of school-girlish noises that vaguely resembled squeals of enthusiasm filtered through a ridiculousness purifier:
I bought Tigerland on DVD because there’s an out-of-focus shot of his business in it. I nearly took out my roommate’s girlfriend as I darted to get in front of the television when he introduced U2 during the 2003 Academy Awards. I sat through Daredevil. And S.W.A.T. In short, I was an utter embarrassment.
However, like all crushes, my interests waned. I largely attribute this to both my fickle tastes and seeing Ryan Gosling in The Notebook. Oh, follies of youth!
ANYWAYS, I was certain I was done with that business. CERTAIN. He won his Golden Globe this spring and, while I was happy to see him make a comeback, I wasn’t reduced to banshee-like shrieking. Then I saw this video, though, and the shrieking recommenced:
Instead of Going to See G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, Why Not Rent Obsessed?
August 6, 2009
Recessions, y’all. They’re the worst. The economy’s a bailout black hole, unemployment rates just seem to keep rising, and movies are a leisure that are increasingly unworthy of the $12.50 price of admission. Yeesh! Who wants to pay that much money for a movie about terminating robots, or a movie about transforming robots, or a movie talking guinea pigs (that, given this summer’s crappy movie trend, might also be robots)? And this weekend we get G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, which is not about robots, but looks to include robot suits and performances that are equally stiff:
Admittedly this looks more mediocre than flat-out terrible, and one could argue that Sienna Miller’s quip about shoes is a welcomed moment of camp, but mediocrity is rarely worth $12.50. Instead, might I suggest renting the camp ridiculousness that is Obsessed? Sure, I already reviewed it months ago, but now it’s out on DVD, and that means you’ve no excuse not to see it! Just look at Beyonce give good (bitch)face and tell me it’s not worth the meager cost of a rental:
But wait, there’s more! So much more!
Shakira Has Just Ridicudanced Her Way into My Heart
August 3, 2009
Ridicudancing, y’all. Whether it’s the sensational moves of Nomi Malone or the sublime artistry of Sara Carlson, I love it when someone burns when they dance. That said, it’s hard to find truly excellent ridicudancing. There’s plenty of bad dancing, for sure, but great ridicudancing only happens when the proper proportions of talent, batshit crazy vision, and a total lack of inhibition combine. It’s truly like chemistry, and judging by the video for “She Wolf,” Shakira has mastered the science.
Admittedly, saying that Shakira’s dance moves are ridiculous is like commenting on how blue the sky is, but trust me when I say that the moves she busts out in this video are truly avant garde in their insanity. Maybe it’s helped by the fact that “She Wolf” is an inherently ludicrous (yet insanely catchy) pop song about lycanthropy as metaphor for ladies having a case of the hornies, and we all know ridicusongs demand ridicudancing. Whatever the case, you simply must click the picture and take a ride on Shakira’s crazy train. Seriously:
Whoah there, lady friend. I don’t even know where to begin with this one, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try!
NEWS: Leighton Meester’s Got a New Song; YouTube Commenters Still the Classiest
July 6, 2009
We all know that you aren’t really someone until you’ve dabbled in having your own music career. It’s a universal truth. After all, Heidi “My Personal Source of Eternal Schadenfreude” Montag is a somebody, and she’s obviously known for “Sex Ed,” which–in anticipation of the impending end of the world in 2012— has impressively already won the Summer Jam of the Millenium award. Really, you can never be too quick when recognizing talent.
Anyways, we can now officially say that Leighton Meester, Gossip Girl‘s very own Blair Waldorf, is now a someone as well. Her song is called “Body Control,” and I’ve been listening to it ad nauseam all morning because I love Blair Waldorf. And I can’t figure out why I like it. And I have no self-respect:
WORK IT, GIRL! After a bajillion listens, I think I finally understand why I’m behind this song.
I like to imagine that this isn’t Leighton Meester herself, but a leaked song intended for the Gossip Girl season 3 plot line where Blair, à la Lady Gaga, drops out of NYU to pursue a career as a pop-musician/performance artist. All that Auto-Tune you hear would be a deliberate part of her act, a post-humanization of the voice (i.e., self) meant to explore new conceptualizations of identity brought about by the proliferation of information in the age of text-messaging, the internet, and the brave new world that is Gossip Girl.
Her back up dancers would look sorta like the robot from Metropolis, and they’d do Nomi-Malone-esque dances while dressed in fabulous trench coats with perfectly accessorized head bands. I mean, I probably don’t have to tell you how amazing that would be because you already know how amazing that that would be, but it would be TOTALLY AMAZING! Just think about it: Blair-Bots? You know you love it, xoxo.
While my reaction may look like an OD on crazy pills, we fortunately also have YouTube commenters, those torchbearers of intelligent cultural discourse and general classiness. They have taken to message boards to add their own two-cents and remind us what the rest of the world is thinking:
Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner 
