Because I haven’t got time for a proper blog post lately. Here’s more Doctor Steel. We Decide It!
And so…we reap what we sow.
Well I have one day off from work this week, and it happens to be Christmas day. Family stuff is done and now I’m bored. Been watching a bunch of new AMV’s for the classic Cowboy Bebop. Here are a few of my favorite.
First my all time favorite, “Call Me” with a great new AMV.
New one I found titled, “Stress”. Everybody’s out to get me, but I feel alright!
Another classic AMV, “Gotta Knock a Little Harder.”
The iconic intro music, “Tank!”
And finally, I know it’s Coldplay, but I dig this song. “Clocks” to Cowboy Bebop.
Before we set out on my Road Trip with a Depressed Transformer, I have to say one thing. Michael Bay is a hack. His Transformer movies were abominations of what made growing up with the Transformers toys and watching the cartoons so great. He’s consiously made an effort to piss on our childhoods. Michael Bay is a horrible filmmaker, except I thought The Rock was pretty good. But that’s where it ended. For fuck’s sake he introduced “Black Guy” Transformers that literally said, “We don’t do much reading.”
The film idustry should put a restraining order on him. Here’s a clip of how Michael Bay makes movies.
So if Michael “Now I can pay for hookers” Bay can violate our beloved robots that transform into other things, then so can I!
I give you!
Friday morning began as a peaceful, hopeful day. I was on the bottom steps of my apartment waiting for a Fed Ex delivery. I managed to score a copy of “Zombie Love Triangle” off of ebay for the low, low price of $350. Some might consider that a lot of money, but I don’t think you can put a price on viewing a threesome consisting of Jessica Biel, Scarlet Johansson, and a Zombified James Dean. It won lots of awards….in Europe.
*Whhhhoooooor! Whhhhoooooor!* (that’s an ambulance siren effect in case you were wondering)
“Hmmm? Must have been an accident somewhere.”
The ambulance is racing through traffic. Ironically it seems to be showing no regards to other’s safety. At one point it has driven onto the sidewalk, causing multiple elderly to jump into alleyways and into the doorways of local shops. See, I knew they only pretended to be slow. To my surprise the ambulance has stopped in front of my apartment.
*REE-RAWT-ROW-RA-ROOT*(that’s the sound effect of a transformer, well, transforming)
“ARE YOU THE HUMAN CALLED JOHNNY RED?!”
“You know who I am Ratchet.”
“THERE’S NO TIME!!”
“QUICKLY! GET INSIDE OF ME!”
“IT’S AN EMERGENCY AND THE AUTOBOTS NEED YOUR HELP!”
“AND I need to catch the Fed Ex guy. He’s been here three times this week and I wasn’t here. If I don’t pick up my package it will get sent back. Trust me. I NEED this for the weekend.”
“AND I SAY HUMANITY NEEDS YOU!!”
“God damnit!! Alright!”
“So what’s the problem?”
“MEGATRON IS BACK AND IS PLANNING ON RELEASING A TECHNO VIRUS TO DESTROY THE HUMAN RACE!”
“Because I’ve been home all day and haven’t seen any of this on the news.”
“I don’t trust you. Why did you pick me up?”
“Ratchet I’m not even joking. Why the fuck did you pick me up?”
“ARCEE LEFT ME AGAIN.”
“Oh you bastard! I can’t believe you did this to me again!”
“I JUST NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO.”
“Now I know why they call you Ratchet.”
“Because you’re a fucking tool that’s why!”
“I’M SORRY. I’M A MESS…AND….I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. IF A TRANSFORMER COULD CRY…I WOULD.”
“Alright, alright. Stop whining. What happened?”
“SHE LEFT ME FOR A NEW GUY. I CAN’T COMPETE.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. What does this guy have that you don’t?”
“I’M BRINGING UP HIS PROFILE ON MY DATA SCREEN.”
“SHE SAID I WAS OLD NEWS, AND THAT I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING PRODUCTIVE WITH MY LIFE.”
“She has a point Ratchet. What have you done lately?”
“ARE YOU TAKING THE WHOREBOT’S SIDE?”
“No Ratchet I’m not. I mean just look at you. You have no style.”
“Well first of all you transform into an ambulance that would have been decommissioned in the late 80′s.”
“I’M OLD FASHIONED.”
“I respect that about you, but look at Optimus Prime. He’s moved on with his life.”
“HE’S A SELL OUT!”
“Possibly, but look at where it has taken him. There’s no real Decepticon threat anymore Ratchet. You have to find a new purpose while here on Earth.”
“NOT ONLY IS HE A SELL OUT, BUT HIS PRESIDENTIAL BID IS BEYOND RIDICULOUS.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“BEING LEADER OF THE AUTOBOTS WASN’T ENOUGH? HE’S ALSO LEADER OF CYBERTRON. NOW HE WANTS TO BE PRESIDENT OF THE HUMANS AS WELL.”
“YOU HUMANS CAN’T CHANGE INTO ANYTHING!”
“Ratchet, stop deflecting.”
“YOU’RE RIGHT. I’M SORRY.”
“And stop apologizing all the time. Show some balls…er…ball bearings perhaps. I don’t know what you guys have down there.”
“WHAT AM I GONNA DO?”
“I’ll tell ya what. I know a bar not far from here.”
“AHHH. THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED.”
“Feels good doesn’t it?”
“A BAR, GOOD DRINKS, AND A GOOD FRIEND. THIS IS ALL I REALLY NEED.”
“You don’t have any money on you do you?”
“WHAT WOULD I NEED WITH HUMAN MONEY?”
“It’s just that–”
“ANOTHER ROUND HUMAN BAR KEEP!”
“Um…fine I’ll pay.”
“I JUST HAVE ONE QUESTION.”
“What’s that Ratchet?”
“WHY IS THE BAR KEEP STARING A HOLE STRAIGHT THROUGH ME?”
“Maybe it’s because you tore the roof off of this place so you could get inside.”
“PAY THE TAB. WE SHOULD BE GOING.”
“Stop. I’m not playing.”
“I’m not joking.”
“PADIDDLE! PADIDDLE! PADIDDLE! YOU OWE ME SO MUCH ENERGON!”
“shut up. Shut Up. SHUT UP!!”
“You don’t even have a tape deck in here.”
“YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK ANYMORE?”
“I don’t know what else we can talk about.”
“You’re stubborn. You’re not gonna change. You want to hold on to this ideology that you are here to save humanity.”
“AND THAT’S A BAD THING?”
“No it’s not. It’s just an old thing.”
“IT’S NOT OLD. THERE ARE STILL HUMANS THAT NEED HELP. LIKE THIS ONE. I’M GONNA PICK UP THAT HITCHHIKER.”
“Don’t pick up that hitchhiker!”
“WHAT IS YOUR DESTINATION HUMAN?”
“I’m on a mission to save the human race.”
“WHAT A COINCIDENCE! AS AM I!”
“Ratchet, he’s not on a mission to save the human race.”
“I’m from the planet Nerplex and I’ve been sent here by my Reptloid bretheren!”
“I FIND NO SUCH PLANET AS NERPLEX IN MY DATA BASE.”
“Pull over Ratchet.”
“JOHNNY RED YOUR VITAL SIGNS ARE GOING SPASTIC.”
“He has a hatchet.”
“No Nerplex? Has my home planet been destoyed?”
“It’s not possible. Nerplex sounds like a prescription drug which he is probably off of.”
“You mock the Reptloid race!”
“Nooooo…it’s just that we aren’t equipped to…um…transport you back home.”
“Aaaaaaargh!! Die puny human!”
“WHAT IS HAPPENNING?”
“Fuck! Pull the vehicle over!”
“I AM THE VEHICLE.”
“The hatchet is in my elbow!! Pull OVER!”
Ratchet screeches to a halt as I hurdle myself outside. I quickly slam the door shut leaving the homicidal lunatic trapped inside. Then I quickly pull the hatchet out of my elbow.
“Ooooow! Fucking hell! Ratchet lock the doors so he doesn’t escape!”
“We have to call the police so that they can deal–”
“That was and will forever be the most horrific thing I have ever heard or seen.”
“SOOOO, SHALL WE CONTINUE?”
“Not until we get you cleaned up. Carry me to a car wash.”
MILE EIGHTY FIVE:
“I FEEL SO MUCH SHAME RIGHT NOW.”
“Quiet, you’re almost cleaned up.”
“YOU’RE RIGHT YOU KNOW. I’M OLD FASHIONED AND USELESS.”
“You’re not useless.”
“I’VE EVEN RUINED OUR FRIENDSHIP HAVEN’T I?”
“It’s not ruined Ratchet. I’m just a little pissed off because I hadn’t planned on spending my day pressure washing bits of crazy person out of you.”
“I’M A LOSER.”
Ratchet turns his robot face away and begins sulking.
“There, all done. I gotta go inside and make a quick call. Then we’ll head out.”
Five Minutes Later:
“Ok Ratchet, let’s roll out!”
“WHY SO CHIPPER?”
MILE ONE HUNDRED:
“I’M JUST GONNA TAKE YOU HOME.”
“Why? Our road trip has just started.”
“YOU’RE JUST BEING NICE.”
“Ratchet I’ve been thinking and….boy that jet seems to be flying really low.”
“I’LL ANALYZE IT.”
“DON’T PANIC JOHNNY RED! BUT THAT’S NOT JUST A JET!”
“Oh no Ratchet! What could it possibly be?”
“TREMBLE HUMANS! I’M DIRGE AND…UM…I’M UP TO NO GOOD!”
“Ratchet! Save me!”
“DON’T WORRY JOHNNY RED! I’LL PROTECT YOU!”
Ratchet places me behind a building to keep me safe. He then proceeds to lay a pummeling on poor Dirge.
“DIRGE! YOU’VE PICKED THE WRONG AUTOBOT ON THE WRONG DAY!”
I cringe as Ratchet robot piledrives Dirge into an abandoned Chuck E Cheese.
“PLEASE SHOW MERCY RATCHET! SPARE MY LIFE AND I’LL LEAVE!”
“LEAVE THEN! AND LET THE OTHER DECEPTICONS KNOW THAT THERE IS STILL ONE AUTOBOT THAT THEY HAVE TO FEAR!”
Dirge transforms and flies away leaving a smoke trail behind him.
“Ratchet! That was amazing! You saved me!”
“YOU’RE WELCOME JOHNNY RED! I FEEL ALIVE! LIKE I COULD TAKE ON THE WORLD!”
“That’s great! But can you start by taking me home?”
“OF COURSE. YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH A TRAUMATIC EVENT. YOU MUST GO HOME AND REST.”
TWO DAYS LATER AT JOHNNY RED’S APARTMENT:
“HEY JOHNNY RED. IT’S DIRGE.”
“Hey Dirge. Thanks a lot for the other day.”
“YEAH…ABOUT THAT. DO YOU HAVE MY ENERGON?”
“Yep. Just stop on by whenever you can.”
“I LIKE ENERGON.”
“I know you do Dirge.”
“I MAY HAVE A PROBLEM…YOU KNOW…WITH ENERGON. IT’S NOT EASY HAVING A DILDO SHAPED HEAD.”
“Well we all have our addictions and reasons why we do.”
“UM…I WAS THINKING THAT WHEN I PICK IT UP THAT MAYBE WE CAN GO FOR A FLY AND TALK ABOUT IT?”
“WHAT WAS THAT?”
“Nothing Dirge, it was nothing.”
JOHN MICHAEL GAGNON…REE-RAWT-ROW-RA-ROOT…JOHNNY RED
I’ve decided that the song “Gunman” by Them Crooked Vultures will now be the theme song for my life. Now to figure out a way to have it broadcast from my body at will. Hmmm?
Grain of sand.
Could not speak.
Is a holy ghost.
And there’s lions
In a cage.
It don’t matter, don’t try to explain,
You’re just another dog to be trained,
You’re gonna end up under tooth and nail.
If you catch a tiger by the tail,
Does not dream
Could not sleep.
Mercy killing, those counting sheep.
I’m a trigger, quick to fire,
Punctuate betwixt the eyes
And you’re clever…
It ain’t gonna help you.
Violence is just an incomplete thought,
Coming to a complete stop,
You’re so clever you’ll tear us apart,
Then masquerade it as art.
If you can help anyone, help yourself,
That’s unless you hate yourself,
Then don’t help.
Angry ants are crawling,
Makes you wanna scream.
Building up steam.
Flesh and bone have no persuasion,
This is the path to my destination.
Where you been?
Follow the leader yet lead ‘em the same.
Slugs punctuate the refrain,
It don’t matter, don’t try to explain.
You’re just a dog to be trained,
You gonna end up under tooth & nail.
If you catch a tiger by the tail,
I wanna go blind, wanna stare at the sun.
A number of things have taken my time and energy away from getting a new blog posted. The Holiday seasons are the worst time to work in a grocery store which drains every last ounce of energy out of me, it’s also gaming season so Borderlands and Left 4 Dead 2 have eaten up a lot of time, and now it seems I have been stricken with a rare mutated version of Swine-Flu called; Mega-Ultra-No-Happy-Fun-Time-Swine-Flu.
On the plus side it’s help turn my apartment into some sort of makeshift bio-weapons lab.
Seeing as it’s been over a month since my last blog post I began to feel guilty. So I decided to write up this totally bullshit blog entry list of Christmas Gifts I expect to find under my tree this year. Upon reflection I have concluded that I have been a right basterd very good boy this year. So if any of my readers find it in their generous hearts to help secure and deliver any/all of these items to me on Christmas Day I won’t have to unleash my Bio-Engineered Flu-bombs on your household would hold you in a special place in my heart forever.
You have probably already concluded from reading my previous blogs that I have a big problem with the reality we currently live in. Is this my fault? I didn’t choose to live in the near-iliterate, banal, mediocore, coast to coast shopping mall we call America. So until I master the awesome power of Reality Warping, I have to find other ways to keep my sanity.
One of these ways is getting myself lost in great Science Fiction. Whether it’s a book, graphic novel, movie, video game, or television show, I use the time I spend with them to escape this primitive world we live in.
This is where Abby Shot comes in. They specialize in recreating clothing from some of the most popular science fiction mediums out there. Movies, television, video games, etc. Two items on their site have caught my attention.
First is a replica Browncoat worn by Captain Malcolm Reynolds in the amazing, albeit short lived sci-fi show Firefly.
Sporting the replica Browncoat will help seperate me from the crowd. In fact it may prompt several people in authority to literally seperate me from the crowd. But hey, that’s what being an outer space rebel will do. All for the low, low cost of…um….$359.
The second item that caught my attention is the replica coat of the 10th incarnation of Doctor Who. The new Doctor Who series will probably go down as my favorite sci-fi television show of all time. Mostly because it helped inspire me to create and write Monster Rebellion.
So…yeah I want this.
Also, if any woman wants to travel with me in a time traveling blue police box they also sell the Doctor’s companion jacket as well.
I also belive that acquiring these items will help me in my defense against the soon to be implemented state required therapy sessions I’ll be forced to endure.
This item is fairly simple. You see growing up reading comic books and watching sci-fi movies I have concluded that we are long over due for public jet packs. I don’t understand why this is such a difficult device to create? We can send rocket ships to the moon, but can’t strap those same rockets to a human torso? I smell a cover up. And I believe there is a consensus on this as well.
So I’ve done some reasearch and discovered that there have been many advances in the science of human rocket technology. I am grateful to these individuals who have helped further my goal of owning a jet pack. I say this because on one occasion I allowed my Team of Scientists to take up the cause. The results were….less than favorable.
A gentleman by the name of Eric Scott has made many advances in jet pack technology. In fact he has even broken a Guinness world record by traveling 68 mph in his jet pack prototype.
Here’s a pic of Eric Scott doing what he does best.
Well as impressive as Eric Scott’s jet pack feats have been, there’s still just something primitive about his design. No, if I am to use a jetpack I want something with style.
Let’s see what the Military is currently cooking up.
Ugh…the need for a parachute totally negates the purpose of a fully functioning jet pack. If this was for sale on Amazon I’d give it two stars.
Why is this so difficult? Did, or didn’t I watch a documentary when I was young about an awesome jet pack? I recall it clearly.
Ok I’m gonna be honest here. The reason I want a jet pack is because I’m sure it will impress women. If big pick-up trucks and motorcycles can somehow cancel out the logical reasons a woman should date someone, then a jet pack must be like spanish fly.
If any of you are worried that you might end up buying me the same gift as everyone else who reads this sight, then don’t worry because this entry is for you.
I want a full size, deluxe mascot costume. Doesn’t matter what it’s of. As long as it practically covers me completely. The reason I want one of these is because the potential for hilarity seems almost limitless.
I can be this…
Just imagine Johnny Red walking the streets of Northern Maine decked out in this!
The only problem is these costumes tend to cost thousands of dollars a piece. But remember that I’ve been a decietful power hungry megalomaniac very, very good boy this year.
Also remember the potential for hilarity.
There are countless ways owning a robot could make my life less complicated. I could get so much more done with a robot assistant. This would leave me the time and energy I need to complete all the experiments my Team of Scientists and I have put on the back burner.
A robot could help me with dealing with annoying customers while doing my job managing a Produce Department.
They can help me with transporting all those ”volunteers” the military supplies to me for my experiments.
They can also help clean up after the Zombie Apocalypse, WHICH I might add still wasn’t my fault no matter how the media is trying to spin it.
I also believe that having a robot friend would be a great way to talk out my troubles to an obedient ear without judgement.
But there is one robot I absolutely do not want. Just the thought of that robotic monstrosity haunts my nightmares. Why it was even built is a mystery. When I think of the time, money, and research spent on developing that abomination makes me lose faith in humanity…and robots.
Warren Ellis is probably the greatest influence on me as a writer. He’s revolutionized science fiction comics. If there was no Warren Ellis there would be no Monster Rebellion to entertain you people when you probably should be working.
Some of his most influential works have been the entire Transmetropolitan series…
His work on Planetary…
And more currently Doktor Sleepless…
Unlike most uppity writers, Warren Ellis tends to keep himself grounded and on the same level as the fans who read his work. I’ve had a few e-mail conversations with him myself. Although he’d probably never admit it, he’s quite humble except for the times he asked all his fans to refer to him as, “Internet Jesus”, and “Love Swami.” He even keeps a twitter account open to all his fans. Here are a few excerpts that he recently posted on his website WarrenEllis.com .
* THE MANY SUICIDES OF AQUAMAN: The Loneliness Of The Underwater Crimefighter When There’s No Fucking Crime Underwater
* BATMAN’S FATAL HEADSHOT: His Parents Died Twenty Years Ago, But Only Today Did He Find Their Hidden Rape Shed
* Here in Britain, of course, it’s Thank Fuck We Got Those Weird Jesus Bastards On The Boat Day
* phoning Hollywood to pitch THE MUMMY IV: I SHIT DUST
* Related: also trying to beat out Joss Whedon’s TERMINATOR pitch with TERMINATOR: I SHIT ROBOTS
* But, coming soon, Sandra Bullock romantic comedy I SHIT NEW BOYFRIENDS
* I don’t care what anyone says, I’m changing my job description on my passport to “Space Bastard”
* hammer pneumatic fucking drills into that editor’s face until he has arseholes for eyes oh shit twtter’s on hello there
* the term “beard” shall henceforth be replaced by “crackling virility hedge”
* If you love something, set it free. With one of those tracker anklets. With a bomb on it.
I wouldn’t recommend a solo attempt at acquiring Warren Ellis, as he is no doubt full of trickery and hyper-energized at all times by constant Red Bull consumption. As you can all clearly see from the above photo that he is rather out of shape. This is to your advantage as long as at least three of you team up on him.
Once acquired, I refuse to use the “K” word in this operation as I don’t understand where the law stands on internet blogging, but once “acquired” Warren Ellis will provide me with facebook status updates, blog topics, and when needed he may update my blog in a more timely fashion than I have been lately.
Christmas only comes once a year folks so please make mine a happy one.
John Michael Gagnon…Have a Strange Christmas Everyone…Johnny Red