Soulless monkey-faced kids riding their bikes into the gaping jaws of doom. Nifty, but I feel there is a deeper metaphor than just bicycle safety at work here. Every so often I get a hint of it, but I can’t crack the code. I almost get the feeling they were trying to make an [begin quotey fingers] educational [end quotey fingers] film of some sort. That can’t be right though — the mental image of those monstrosities continuously haunt my dreams. This was obviously meant to be a horror film. A horror film with a message that I think I have the hang of.
Frostbite is a small price to pay for mild Intertunnel fame. You can regrow skin, but you can’t regrow YouTube views. Wearing gloves would ruin the whole chill introductory college course vibe. Being cool is easy when all you have to do is drip liquid nitrogen on your hands. It completely takes out the need for cool props like shutter shades or leather pants. Frosty.
Five million views is nothing to sniff at. I’ve seen people sacrifice body parts for less. If anything this guy got off easy. The next echelon of views can only be achieved if their video also had a baby falling down or someone getting hit in the jewels. The innertunnel runs off of the misfortune of others, and pictures of cats. The BSBFB runs on Ovaltine. In the long run I think we’re much better off.
Are you havin a giggle, mate? I swear, you are one cheeky berk, mate. One more word outta you and I’ll hook you right in the gabber. I swear on me mum I’ll turn you into toast, mate. Now shut your mouth or I’m callin in me boys and you’ll be in for a proper rumble. I’ll shank your nan outside Tescos, I will. You’ll be a right mess, ya muppet.
Oi, Oi! You better watch it, mate, or I’ll do your windys in. Be careful or I’ll have ya, ya right bastid. I’ll nick your trackies faster than your nancy face can fart. You’re a load of naff, mate, and you better watch it from now on. If I catch you gawpin again I’ll give you a right pummel. Now bugger off before I lose me temper — mate.
When it comes to man versus nature, man wins, and he’s been winning for the last 4,000 years or so. Nature really should throw in the towel at this point. She doing her best, but it’s not like she can hurt us much. We turn every animal she sends our way into a throw rug or a rotisserie dish. All the seasons are vaguely enjoyable if you have a snow shovel, skis, and/or air conditioning. Your average pestilence just makes us buy window screens at this point. The crust of the planet needs to crack open, with red hot lava bubbling up, to even get a reaction out of us anymore.
To be honest nature never stood a chance with competition like us around. Humans are quick-witted, adventurous, and supremely gifted in the opposable thumb department. Give a fully grown man a club and he can conquer the world. Give him a six pack and he can conquer the living room. Give him a stable internet connection and he can look at sketchy videos of scantily clad women all day without tiring. Give him an iron bar, and it’s goodbye moosie.