Imagine Turkish Star Wars Mixed With Italian Spiderman, Only Worse

Imagine Turkish Star Wars Mixed With Italian Spiderman, Only Worse


Ahh, Koreans: the slightly less tentacle-oriented cousins of the Japanese. Equally as insane, but with fewer violated schoolgirls. They stand teetering on the edge of the uncanny valley, somewhere between robots with emotive faces and the average MSNBC newscaster; your brain wants to believe that some parts of them are human, but you know in your heart that they’re not. Most Asian countries have their fair share of image problems, but I’d say South Korea has it worst because they don’t really have an image. Everyone just thinks of them as the sensible cousin to their absolutely insane, kneebiter, bond-villainesque, tosspot neighbor to the North — but South Korea is so much more than that. Like their Japanese friends, they also have an affinity for making the most bizarre tripe imaginable.

Don’t get me wrong, Korean Tron is a masterpiece. It makes the original look like it was filmed by an invalid with a camcorder and a full diaper. The only way it could get any better is if the story had anything to do with Tron or resembled any part of Tron. It’s like they had someone at a party drunkenly give them a vague description of what Tron was, and then based a movie off that information alone. Adding some Tron elements to your Tron movie seems appropriate, but it would probably ruin the effect. Shock, awe, bewilderment, and mild disappointment are a director’s best friends.

Having an out-of-work McDonald’s janitor do all the voice-over work was an absolutely genius move. Everything sounds like a grade-school production of Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf with the same level of comprehension and emotive power. Only having a passing acquaintance with the English language helps too. It offers a viscerally bad experience that’s fun for the whole family — like a train wreck, or a congressional hearing.

Classic Two Hit Fights: Mike Tyson Hits You — You Hit The Floor

Classic Two Hit Fights: Mike Tyson Hits You — You Hit The Floor


I really don’t know what to make of Mike Tyson’s boxing. He’s not the biggest fellow, but that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating. He doesn’t have the swagger or stunning theatrics of Mohammed Ali, and he doesn’t really look like the sort of man who could peddle a grill. He’s half Tiger tank, half Pit Bull. If you get within arm’s reach of him, he’ll beat you within an inch of your life, and if you try to run away he’ll chase you down and politely ask you not to do that. Just kidding, he’ll still beat you to a pulp.

He’s eighteen years old in those first fights. Eighteen. I didn’t look like that when I was eighteen. I was mostly sitting around on the beach with a mouth full of sand. I can see that in the first fights none of the other fighters thought that much of him. They came in swinging wild and they got put on their ass in the first 20 seconds. Half of them only take two hits before going down for good: One hit to knock some sense into them, and a second hit to knock it back out again. Well, as Iron Mike said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”

I didn’t watch the whole video, so the last 20 minutes could just be Mike eating raw Tyson chicken from a bag while staring longingly at the ring-card girl until his court-ordered electric sex pants give him a jolt. I assume the rest of the matches are equally as spectacular as the beginning. And by spectacular I mean we get to watch Mike Tyson stand around for a bit while a team of doctors desperately try to revive whoever he was fighting.

Bottled Warter: It’s Got Electrolytes N’ Stuff

Bottled Warter: It’s Got Electrolytes N’ Stuff


I have never wanted anything more than I’ve wanted that bottle of warter. I don’t know what it is and I don’t know what it does, but I want it now. I want to bathe in it if I he’ll give me enough bottles. If I could cover myself in warter, I think I’d die a happy man.

Unfortunately warter is rather hard to find online. I’ve had similar trouble finding malk and other bizarre beverages. Luckily, you can always buy Brawndo: the thirst mutilator. Brawndo is the only energy drink that I would ever imbibe. It’s got what my body craves.Brawndo makes Redbull look like skim milk. It makes Monster look like a can of sugar-free lemonade. It makes Rockstar look like a decaf, mocha-frappe with extra foam on top. Brawndo is the drink of champions — It’s got electrolytes.

If You Vote For Me, All Of Your Wildest Dreams Will Come True

If You Vote For Me, All Of Your Wildest Dreams Will Come True


I can’t tell if he’s the best dancer I’ve ever seen or the worst. They’re pretty much the same things when you get right down to it. A total lack of control over your appendages can be misconstrued as great dancing. I will admit that dancing requires some skill, but don’t let it get to your head. I can’t dance so I have no idea if this is good, bad, or a mixture of the two. It’s weird enough to merit me talking about it, so it must have some good qualities. If we have any dancers in the house feel free to correct me on this.

Busting a move is an obtuse art form. It has many schools of thought, and many stoic practitioners who make everyone around them miserable by doing a bunch of obtuse nonsense instead of being entertaining. I find the aforementioned video to be very entertaining because he doesn’t seem to be taking himself too seriously. On the other hand, if that display is him taking himself seriously then I really don’t know what to say. Taking serious artistic license with the absurd is like remaking Casablanca with cats. People aren’t exactly gonna watch it for the riveting plot, now are they?

In the end, it doesn’t really matter how you feel about dance. What truly matters is we all agree that Napoleon Dynamite has the best dance sequence of any movie that has ever been made, or ever will be made.