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Category: Mashups I Wish I’d Made

KHAN! Sorry, I Meant KANE

KHAN! Sorry, I Meant KANE


Sorry for the mix-up, I have Star Trek on the brain at the moment.

Citizen Kane is all well and good, but I don’t think anything can compare to the entertainment I derive from watching old Star Trek. William Shatner’s acting, mixed with ludicrous writing just gives me the giggles. I’m not trying to compare the merits of one of the greatest films of all time with one of the greatest — er, well, alrightest TV shows of all time. Even alrightest is a bit of a stretch. More like, the most somewhat watchable shows of all time. I’m not trying to compare the two, because that would be silly.

What I’m trying to do is stress that Star Trek is inherently superior. Not because of the acting, or the filmography, or the special effects, or the production values, because we all know Star Trek hasn’t got any of those. What Star Trek has is charm — and it’s wonderfully terrible. It’s like your toddler’s drawings: they aren’t Monet, but no one is expecting them to be. It’s so bad it’s good. Star Trek is borderline unwatchable, but that makes it immensely compelling. It’s like a wonderful technicolor train wreck. Citizen Kane is simply a really good movie. Really good movies are great if you’re an android who has no concept of fun. For the rest of us, there’s Star Trek.

Come on — at the end of the day you’re always going to pick Captain Kirk fighting a Gorn in a spangly leotard over Orson Welles and his sled fetish.

Coming Soon To an Apocalypse Near You

Coming Soon To an Apocalypse Near You

Look, it’s only a matter of time before this happens. Not a lot of time, either. And we’re going to get what we’ve got coming. We’re going to get a Terminator with the manners of Twitter and the mindset of a blog commenter at 2 AM. It won’t be reasoned with, it won’t be bargained with, and it absolutely will not stop until we stack our our boxes. Or the batteries run out.

In a World Where Oompa-Loompas Stalk the Countryside and Bathe In the Blood of Their Victims, One Man Will Try to Rule Them All

In a World Where Oompa-Loompas Stalk the Countryside and Bathe In the Blood of Their Victims, One Man Will Try to Rule Them All

There’s no earthly way of knowing, which direction we are going. There’s no knowing where we’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing. Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a–blowing?

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