There’s nothing cuter than retro-futurism. It’s just adorable.
And yet, it leaves me wondering about the simple things in life. Happiness. Love. Acceptance. Security. And also, where is my fucking jetpack?
I mean, seriously.
Granted, this “Not My Future!”/”Where’s my jetpack?” ennui has been around for a while, and sloganized (the sign of all things nearing what should be a healthy death in the pop culture eye), but it’s especially trying when James Bond had a jetpack of sorts back in 1965 and then had laser guns and bad Star Wars rip off fun back in 1979 (along with Dr. Holly Goodhead and future chucks).
A laser watch? 007 gets a laser watch. Come on, throw me a frickin’ bone here, man.
The other night I was reading an interesting big on a variant of the Fermi paradox, but dealing with time travel, and I really wished I had saved the link. The Fermi paradox, by the way, is contradiction of… Well, if there are aliens out there, higher civilizations, or at least something more advanced than class 1 or 2 civilization and capable of traveling between worlds, then why haven’t we been contacted them (and no, abducting wack jobs and cattle and anal probing the hell out of them is not “contact,” no matter how right it’s done). Essentially the same idea applies to time travel: If people could come back from the future, then why haven’t they?
Especially if you think about how a person from a few decades in the future could travel back with the common cold from their time period to now, when we don’t have those several decades worth of immunities, and do some serious damage.
Oh well. I guess that just leaves us angry time travelers, all stuck going forward only and at the same speed.
All right, you primates, listen up…
I’m from the future, man. And I’m high!
Come with me if you want to talk about groping and economic reform in hard times.
Oh well, I guess that for now… that’s all we have. The here and now:
And people who paint giant penises on top of their house.
The media’s just a bit fucked of late.
Speaking of which, after effectively accepting an honorary title of douchbaggery, Jim Cramer is now calling Jon Stewart and the Daily Show’s reporting on CNBC “naïve and misleading.”
“The Decider” is writing a book about decisions. Fantastic. At least he’s not getting any of that big time Clinton “Fuck You money.”
Bill O’Reilly is boycotting Sean Penn films. I apologize for even mentioning that. That’s not even news.
But in related news: Meghan McCain. What the hell?
Oh, and today is the day that SKYNET takes over! Er, I mean, Conficker. Whatever.
Oh, and yeah, today is April Fool’s Day:
This actually makes a certain kind of sense.
Talking porn and Hollywood with Alan Moore.
The secret fetish art of Joe Shuster, Superman’s co-creator.
Say hello to the days of the future past. Now say goodbye.
Now is the era of the end of excess. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just gonna go slip into my little time machine and go back in time (and maybe buy some Apple stock or something). Catch you in another time, another place.
