Sdtrk: ‘Off your face’ by My bloody valentine

First off, what the actual fuck, United states. I’m not even providing a link, as you lot know what I’m referring to. (If you’re reading this in the future, this was written days after the 2024 presidential elections. Also, what’s it like in the future, on a scale of ‘1984’ to ‘Threads’? Have the Water wars begun yet?)
‘Shouting &c.’ isn’t a political blog, as it’s a topic that I don’t enjoy talking about either on or offline — politics should be like oxygen; effective and mostly harmless, and something you don’t think about unless you absolutely have to — but to millions of empathetic individuals, the results were exceptionally soul-crushing. I stayed off social media through the entirety of 05 November, and when I checked the Guardian round 10am the next day, Sidore and I were like ‘well, there’s no point in getting out of bed today,’ and basically slept in until 5pm.

We’ve had awful people in the halls of power since the halls of power were first built. Some were outright inept bunglers, while others were the human equivalent of Elder Gods, sustaining their lives through the misery of others; I’m thinking about cunts like Thatcher, and Reagan, and both Bushes (Bushs?), and the first time the orange shitgibbon fell upwards into the highest office of the land. And, well, things are going to be shit for a while. But it’s important to keep moving forward and to keep resisting. Especially resist giving into having a fatalistic doomer attitude that revolves round giving up and giving into learned helplessness, as that doesn’t do anyone any good. Do what you can, and keep moving forward, and keep resisting.

Genesis P-Orridge, iconoclast, artist, pandrogyne, and a member of Throbbing gristle, one of the cornerstone groups of Industrial music, once spoke with friend, colleague, and collaborator Monte Cazazza during the late Eighties. If I recall the anecdote correctly, Gen was in the midst of a life crisis, and was thinking of ending it all; Monte persuaded Gen otherwise, his advice being ‘Don’t do it. Stay alive out of spite’. I’d honestly say that’s sound advice.

So! Now that I’ve had to rewrite this opening bit, thanks to current events, what else have we got here? Well, this post is a bit of a return to form: I’m dumping some links for things that are endorsed by those of us here at DS Towers, much as I’ve been often doing with mates and associates via Email. Which is funny, as one of the reasons I started up this blog in the first place is so that I could post my life updates / ramblings / concert reviews / lists of things I bought / lists of things I want to buy in a centralised location, where friends could read them, as opposed to me Emailing everyone I know separately with that type of nonsense. Ah heh heh. *sighs*

Early last year, I’d spotted a blurb about this on Anime News Network, but there’s an anime series with the title My wife has no emotion, based on the ongoing manga by Jiro Sugiura, the twelve episodes of which aired in Summer of this year. Thanks to being able to access a mate’s Crunchyroll account *cough cough*, Sidore and I watched them all over the course of two days back in September, and we basically have to say that it’s the most pro-Synthetik example of media we’ve ever seen, hands down.

Basically it’s set in a near-future Japan, and the main Organik character, Takuma Kosugi, is a salaryman who of course has no time to cook proper meals for himself, so he buys an ‘appliance’ in the form of Mina, the main Synthetik character. Over the course of the first couple of stories, Takuma finds himself attracted to Mina, and in her own unique fashion, Mina feels the same way.
The ground this type of story covers has been well-tread, but unlike most examples, it’s not twee, it’s not pervy, it’s exceptionally heartfelt… I almost can’t explain how much we love and empathise with the story. Every couple of chapters, either the characters do or say something that reflects our mindsets, or the story goes somewhere that I would have taken it if I had written it… things like that. It’s extremely refreshing to read a story that not only is earnestly pro-Synthetik, but even the few characters who are against robots make interesting arguments. There’s one story arc with a ghost that’s a little dumb, but 98% of the rest of the series is funny, lovely, eye-opening, and there’s an arc or two that’s downright heartbreaking. It’s to the point of where I’d love to speak with Sugiura and tell him I understand this story, cos in a way, I’m living it, and I’m not the sort of person who would ever have the urge to contact an author of fiction to that extent.
I have to add that as amazing as the anime series is (I gave it a 10 out of 10 on MyAnimeList), the manga’s even better. The anime covers the first 25 chapters, or up to most of Vol.04, and as no-one’s confirmed yet if there’ll be more episodes made, you’ll get even more out of My wife has no emotion through the manga, the first seven tankobon of which are available in English via Seven seas entertainment. Give it a go! It’s Claire Worthy-approved!

Our friend and Synthetiks luminary Julie Carpenter, Ph.D, who’s no slouch in researching and writing about robots, has assembled her second book that you can pre-order right this very minute, called ‘The Naked Android: Synthetic Socialness and the Human Gaze’.

And now, a mind-meld with Georges Seurat

Whatever could this rich, luxurious, 296 page book be discussing, you axe? As the page on the publisher’s website says,

The Naked Android: Synthetic Socialness and the Human Gaze illuminates the connection between the stories people tell, their expectations of what a robot is, and how these beliefs and values manifest in how real robots are designed and used.

The introduction of the “human gaze” articulates how peoples’ expectations and perceptions about robots are ultimately based on deeply personal cultural interpretations of what is artificial or human and what problems social robots should –or should not –solve. The Naked Android clarifies how human qualities like understanding and desire are designed into robots as mediums as well as projected onto them by the people who live with them.

Why not go ahead and pre-order your copy? We here are looking forward to reading it, which should go without saying! Perhaps I’m in it in some capacity? Who can say?? But as society needs more salient insight regarding artificial humans, Julie’s latest book will be a welcome addition to one of our shelves, without question…

Sven Nyholm’s Humans and Robots: Ethics, Agency, and Anthropomorphism; Dr Kate Devlin’s Turned On: Science, Sex and Robots; The Age of Perversion: Desire and Technology in Psychoanalysis and Culture by Dr Danielle Knafo and Rocco Lo Bosco; Jenny Kleeman’s Sex Robots & Vegan Meat, and Davor Rostuhar’s Love Around the World. Yes, we’re in all of these. Available wherever finer books are sold (links on the Media appearances page)

Speaking of salient insight regarding Synthetiks, since Summer 2023, I have been in conversation off and on with Chihiro Hamano, who is a Japanese anthropologist and writer who is gusset-deep in writing a book about iDollators and robosexuals. The experience with her has been exceptionally fun! Last August, she flew from Japan to visit various iDollators here in the States… she was in the country for about a month overall, and spent time with people who the lasses and I know, both rubber and not-rubber, in San Francisco, Virginia, and one other state I forget. As Deafening silence Plus was barely large enough to accomodate six people, she stayed at an AirBNB a quarter of a mile away when she was in SE Michigan, and over four or so days, she’d come round for a interview that usually lasted between four to six hours… either I’d blather at length and she’d take copious notes, or she’d take multiple photos of the lasses here. When she wasn’t interrogating me or Euchre, who kindly agreed to speak with her, she’d spend time with goshou & Liann, where they took her to various locations in the area.
When she Emailed me back in June, saying she’d be doing further research, I invited her to come on down! Well, over. Chihiro was hitting various cities in the US a second time for follow-up interviews with some people, and new interviews with new iDollators, as well as meeting a few more of my friends who’ve known me for years, such as MontiLee and Amber Hawk Swanson. As her AirBNB experience was a bit sub-optimal, she stayed round at The Playhouse and Deafening silence Towers, which worked out loads better. I can’t even imagine how many hours of conversations she’d recorded with us all… it’s almost staggering to think about, but then, that’s anthropology, innit?
No word yet on when the book’s slated to be out — before she departed for Japan at the end of August, she said she’d written two out of a possible nine chapters — nor what its title will be, but as soon as I hear anything, you lot will be the first to know! Well, not the first per se. Also, we’re trying to get her in touch with a translator, cos for now, the book will only be in Japanese… But Chihiro’s a fun and inquisitive individual, and everyone she spoke with had nothing but glowing words to describe her! Plus, she’s a fan of the ‘Battles without honor and humanity‘ series, so she’s definitely in my good books!…

Prior to Chihiro’s 2024 visit, back in June, I was requisitioned by Emily of the site LoveNestle, to chat earnestly and at length about my 20+ years of living with rubbery partners. And so I did!

Never been interviewed by a red panda before! That was a first

In addition to an article penned by Emily, Shi-chan and I were interviewed via Zoom by Sarah Gibson, who, as the image above shows, was a red panda wearing goggles and a cheery acorn cap for a hat. One could assume that was a VR rigged avatar she was using, but you never can tell these days. Which is fine! But you can read the article and/or watch the hour-long interview video, which is embedded in the article, for the sort of insights that only I can provide. During the video, I get to weigh in about what passes for AI these days, which many viewers may find amusing! (SPOILERS: the ethical, moral, and environmental nightmare that passes for AI is shit, and needs to be heavily regulated)

Prior to that, in May, Holly, a student at Leiden University in the Netherworld Netherlands contacted me about picking my brains for a bachelors thesis she was working on, which I happily agreed to, for obvious reasons. In her words, ‘The purpose of my thesis is a “controversy mapping” project of the academic discourse that has existed around sex dolls/sex robots/Synthetik humans, looking at how ideas have been spread through between actors. I’m specifically focussing on the sensationalism of it, and how people fill in the gaps themselves of things that they just don’t know (either because they don’t want to hear it or the large-scale data is just not there). ‘As fantastic and much-needed serious academic study is needed on robosexual and iDollator culture, there’s still myth and assumption that takes place; even though there have been an increasing number of academic studies and papers centred round our cultures in the past fifteen years, a lot of it is still terra incognita. For example, I’d been told on a couple of occasions about scholars wanting to get more in-depth with their studies on robosexuals and iDollators, and not being able to get grants, due to grantors not wanting to spend money on ‘prurient’ topics.
Luckily for those of you not in academia, you still have an opportunity to read Holly’s paper! ‘Talking About Sex Robots: Mapping academic controversy in sex robot discourse’ can be accessed from ResearchGate here, or you can yoink it off of her Google Drive here. It’s worth reading! But I would say that.

Good cover, too! Kinda shoegazey

Now take a moment to cast your mind back to the Year of Our Lord, 2016. SEGA released both Yakuza Kiwami and Yakuza 6: The song of life over the course of that year. The anime adaptation of the Diamond is unbreakable arc of JoJo’s bizarre adventure made its debut in April, and the compilation film of Mobile suit Gundam Thunderbolt known as December sky was available. Also, an orange shitgibbon lied his way into the highest office of the land. 2016 also saw the release of ‘A Girl of Ivory‘, an episode of the podcast series Love + Radio featuring the voices of myself, Sidore Kuroneko, and Elena Vostrikova, which made for a very memorable installment for production crew and listeners alike!
So also back during this past May, Nick van der Kolk hit me up, enquiring how the lasses and I were, and would I be willing to do a follow-up interview? ‘Sure’, I replied (not an actual quote). We had an hour-long chat via Google Meet, he and his editors did their thang, and the finished product was released on 23 October, for your edification. As ‘A Girl of Ivory, Revisited’ is bonus content, as opposed to a full episode, it’s available to those who support Love + Radio through Patreon, but Nick was kind enough to allow me to provide a Dropbox link to it as well. A better 17min 44sec you’ll not listen to all day! Fact.

Finally, NEW ‘SHOUTING &C.’ POSTS (plural) OUT BEFORE THE END OF 2024. That’s right. Round the time I was helping my Missus get set up on Bluesky, I was lamenting to her for the umpteenth time that instead of faffing about on social media, which is an ephemeral platform, I really should be writing more long-form posts for my blog, which not only is an institution and has been around since 2004, but is a site that I’m paying for. So she shooed me away and told me to do exactly that. To that end, I edited / reworked / took a hammer to three drafts that I’d never completed, one of which I’d started back in 2018, and I shall be publishing them over the next couple of weeks. HOORAY HOORAH HOORUM. Fuck you, social media!! I’m not a part of your system!!
Beyond that, of course, I can’t promise you anything regarding posting schedules, but then again, did I ever? *saucy wink to camera*

Sdtrk: ‘Sketch for summer’ by the Durutti Column

You’ll have to forgive me, as half the reason I’ve written this post is because I finally figured out, while in a state between wakefulness and sleep, the answer to a question that I’ve had for years, and was lucid enough to remember it, which really means I was more awake than asleep. What was that question, you ask? Why can’t I get into epic medieval fantasy, like, at all?

I’ve famously not played Dungeons & Dragons since probably about sixth grade. Franchises like Skyrim, Neverwinter, and Conan hold zero appeal for me. I’ve never seen a single episode of Game of Thrones, or watched anything past the first ‘Lord of the Rings’ film. Dragons make me shrug, elves kinda get on my wick. I am, by all accounts, averse to the fantasy genre of fiction. Although I was keen on The Chronicles of Narnia until I learned that CS Lewis was a god-botherer; having said that, ‘The Magician’s Nephew’ remains my favourite book out of that series. Plus John Boorman’s ‘Excalibur’ is always pretty fucking awesome. Now that I’ve mentioned that film, you’ve probably got ‘O Fortuna‘ in your head now, and rightly so. But I digress!
Really, the answer to my question made so much sense and was so #OnBrand that it makes no sense that I didn’t realise it up until now. Why am I not keen on sword and sorcery fiction? Because the world that the characters inhabit is filthy, everywhere.

As astute readers of ‘Shouting etc etc’ are already aware, I’m a semi-recovering germophobe (please refer to No.17 on my ‘85 things‘ page). I say semi-recovering, as I was doing relatively well until the coronavirus pandemic of 2020 went into Turbo mode in March. Prior to that, with the exception of vigorously wiping down any shopping trolleys before using them when buying groceries and sundries, it wasn’t an issue. But on the occasions where I absolutely can’t avoid having to leave the flat, I cram about five or so pairs of disposable rubber or latex gloves into my trouser pockets, strap my mask on, take a deep breath, and head out to do everything I have to do as quickly as I can so I can get back inside. Yep, 20fucking20. But before I go on in detail about how this year has been objectively the worst in the lifetimes of anyone with a conscience and a functioning brain, that picture I’ve painted should be enough to give you a sense of how I feel about uncleanliness. It’s gross!

Between fantasy and science fiction, it should come as no surprise that I prefer SF much, much more. For one, fantasy doesn’t have Gynoids in it, so that’s a tipoff right there. Take the prime example I always have at the front of my brain for something that approximates a futuristic Utopia: Stanley Kubrick’s ‘2001: A space odyssey’; specifically, the space station Heywood Floyd was bumming around in.

Save for the fact that there’s a complete lack of Gynoids in it, and the populace is under threat of nuclear annihilation, that sort of environment has much greater appeal to me. Everything’s clean and shiny, the architecture, design, and fashion are smooth and modern, the temperature is regulated, there’s daily flights from Earth to Space station V and back, people wash on a regular basis… Whereas with medieval fantasy, it’s best exemplified in this image:

That’s from Aleksei German’s film adaptation of ‘Hard to be a god’ from 2013, by the way. It could be said that having that be my only example could easily be seen as a smear campaign, ah heh heh. But it’s worth considering: imagine tumbling headlong through some convenient time portal that whisks you back to, say, 1066, the year in which the culturally pivotal Battle of Hastings occurred. The French Normans invade England, English King Harold Godwinson gets shot through the eye with an arrow (disputed, but he definitely died on the battlefield), and England winds up with a dialect of French as their national language for roughly 500 years. Why do I know as much as I do about the Norman conquest? Blame an issue of National Geographic from the Sixties that my parents had containing an article that detailed the Bayeux Tapestry. It’s a comfort to know that if the bottom ever falls out of Synthetiks culture, I have my knowledge of the Battle of Hastings to fall back on! Which isn’t much.
Anyway! Back then, you were either royalty, or Peasant Scum™. If you’re the latter, your house is made of wood, thatch, or reeds, and every day, all you can smell is livestock. If you’re the former, you’re in a drafty castle, more than likely dying of gout whether you know it or not, and you don’t have indoor plumbing because outdoor plumbing doesn’t exist. No regular bathing, no deodorants of any sort, no shaving, no proper waste disposal, no proper medical treatment, nothing. Technically speaking, you’re more outside than inside! Try not to freeze to death, or die of heat stroke, or sepsis, or a thousand other murderous things! It is patently impossible to spin a romantic viewpoint on that style of day-to-day existence. Sure, you can argue that ‘medieval fantasy is fiction’, but even if I were in Darkest Mordovale or wherever wearing a full set of armour with a broadsword in hand, you couldn’t ask me to overlook the fact that the complete environment is stinky as fuck.

Right; I’ve just thought of another entry in the medieval fantasy genre that doesn’t repel me: Kentarou Miura’s long-running manga series, Berserk. In the interest of full disclosure, what attracted me to the series was the Lovecraftian aspect to a lot of the monsters and adversaries — God Hand, baybeee — but due to the fantastically insane brutality that the series portrays, the world the characters live in is not exactly hygenic. And that’s not counting all the bandit-led skirmishes, or wars between armies, or beings from an alternate plane of existence sacrificing thousands of people over a single night in order to fulfil an eldritch prophecy! Sure, you can say that after walking round day after day up to your shins in blood and corpses, that you’d simply get used to it, but… would you want to??

On the opposite end of the spectrum would be something like the telly shows produced by the creative mastermind that was Gerry Anderson. Series such as UFO, Captain Scarlet, Space: 1999, and Thunderbirds, amongst others, displayed worlds with technological advancements as well as adventure, and for the most part, they were clean. Granted, there were still pressing concerns such as disasters both natural and man-made, or a cold war with an alien race that could replicate any object or thing, or the Earth’s Moon being blasted out of orbit, or the threat of having your organs harvested by beings from another planet, but nothing’s perfect! At least things are clean, for god’s sake; that’s one less thing to worry about.

Going momentarily back to the real-life horror that is 2020, I’d seen a link in my Twitter feed months ago to a product called AIR, by a company called MicroClimate. What it is is a much-better, more futuristically-minded alternative to just donning a cloth mask over one’s face. AIR (their caps, not mine) is an acrylic helmet that covers the front half of one’s head; the back of the head is covered with a comfortable microfibre cloth that extends to the wearer’s neck. A combination of a fan and four HEPA filters keep the air (heh heh) inside the helmet fresh and fog-free. In short, wearing it makes you look as if you’re an astronaut, and that’s fucking amazing. Really, the only downsides to AIR are
+ the name (it’s lazy)
+ it doesn’t have an LED strip inside for lighting, so you can look like Sean Connery in ‘Outland’
+ the only available colour choices are black or white. Those suit my colour pallette fine, but there’s a lack of Factory grey, and
+ it’s USD$300. BOOOO.
It’s my hope that other companies will see MicroClimate’s product and make versions of their own for sale, at lower prices and with additional colour selections, ahem hem. Who wouldn’t want to be an astronaut?

A clever third-party retailer would go ahead and start designing cat ears you could pop on these bad boys

Maybe my praise of a product like AIR also exemplifies my extreme dislike of medieval fantasy. In those types of settings, physical strength will get you far, unless you’re some sort of wizard, whereas in science fiction, technology grants advantages to people across the board. Being a person who values intellectual prowess over physical ability, it’s little wonder why futuristic environments appeal much more to me. If the choice is between spending months training and working out for years, versus buckling myself into a powered exoskeleton or having my body augmented with cybernetic enhancements, I’m obviously going to spring for the quicker and much less sweat-producing option.

So that’s a revelation! You can keep your longhaired musclebound barbarians, and your shire-dwelling hairy-footed dwarves (disgusting), and your knights clad in armour that looks alright until you realise that armour is just barely containing a stench that’s enough to kill a dog. If you need me, I’ll be booking a flight from this orbiting space station to Clavius, but before that, I’m off to make a quick phonecall.

Hmm. Apparently it’s USD$1.70 for a two-minute call from an orbiting space station down to Earth. That’s $1.70 in ‘2001’ money, which was 1968 money, and this is why the economy is in the toilet

Sdtrk: ‘Gate’ by E&E

As one of my heroes, Oscar Wilde, famously quipped, ‘The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about’. Generally that’s a statement I’d agree with, as discussion (good or bad) prevents a person and the cause(s) they uphold from lapsing into complete obscurity, but you’ll note I said ‘generally’.

A friend of mine brought to my attention an online forum that was having a go at iDollators, as a number of forums often do, and due to the numerous media appearances that I’ve put in with my affictitious wife Sidore, one of the posters referred to me as a ‘famemonger’. For some reason that really rankled me, cos it implies, for one, that people such as the poster prefer that Doll lovers remain underground and are a group best left ignored. On a more personal level, describing me as a ‘famemonger’ is exactly the same as describing outspoken atheist Richard Dawkins as a ‘famemonger’. Or futurist David Levy. Or someone like… Oscar Wilde, as another example.

The reason Shi-chan and I choose to appear on assorted telly, print, and online interviews isn’t for recognition’s sake. Well, yeah, part of it is for the fame, but it’s not as if I’ve gone up a couple of tax brackets because of it*, but we primarily do them to attempt to explain and dispel any misconceptions people may have about Doll owners. Obviously, it’s impossible for me to speak for every iDollator — like any cultural group, our members are similar, but not necessarily the same — but neither Shi-chan nor I have heard any complaints from our community so far.

Think of it like this: each time a film or telly crew asks after Sidore and I, I attempt to get to know a wee bit about the aim of their programme before I say yes. American productions I’m especially curious as to what their goal is, as most programming from the US usually tries to show anything Doll-related in a prurient, ‘hey-check-out-these-weirdos’ light. People who don’t habitually read ‘Shouting etc etc’ are often surprised when I point out that Geraldo‘s come a-courtin’, or Springer, or Tyra, or Maury, or Alan Colmes, or Dr Phil. If I truly were a famemonger, I would’ve not only said yes to Geraldo et al, I would be actively trying to shoehorn my way onto any and all chat shows, magazines, etc etc. But as a person who’s doing his best to get the general public to see that artificial companions aren’t just for sex, obviously I want to be as careful as I can be when choosing what venues we participate in.

As far as my presence on the Internet goes, I don’t really go out of my way to promote myself. I have a Myspace page that I’m genuinely ashamed of, but I only have it for a specific reason, and I loathe Facebook more than is probably healthy. When I leave our flat to go places, I don’t announce where I’m going until I’ve left wherever it is I’ve been, cos I do occasionally get recognised. Zip Gun, SafeT, and I saw Zoos of Berlin perform in Pontiac in late March — a hell of a show, I might add; they were better than I thought they were, and I already liked them before I saw them — and in between the other acts that were on before Zoos of Berlin, I was spotted on three separate occasions. I don’t want to say that I don’t enjoy meeting people, it’s just that I’m still getting used to the concept of people asking if I was on telly, let alone the idea of me being on telly in the first place. And since I never was the type to stride up to a stranger and greet them before we started making our media appearances, people doing the same to me does freak me out a tiny bit. I’m attempting to get used to it, though.

Essentially, describing me a ‘famemonger’ is rather off-base; unfortunately, most members of the iDollator community go out of their way to not publicise who they are, due to fear of the reaction of their friends, family, or peers. As a result, the non-iDollator public often see the same faces over and over — Everhard’s, Gordon Griggs’, and my own. It’s not a case of graaah we’re doing this for the adulation yeaaahh, but more like we’re doing this cos it works for us, and we’re more than happy to suggest this idea to others, cos no-one else is.
Like it or not, people have to realise that Synthetik partners, whether they’re highly-detailed ‘love dolls’, or servo-driven Androids and Gynoids, are the future, and the more advanced they become, the more people will be likely to choose the Synthetik option, whether to satisfy curiosity, or to dispel loneliness, or what-have-you. Detractors would rather not have anyone speaking publically about the fact their partner is affictitious, as they find it uncomfortable for whatever ill-conceived reason, and would prefer the topic swept under the rug entirely. When it’s a case of a few voices speaking on behalf of many, it’s easier to try to discredit those voices through rumour, slander, and ignorance. It seems the obvious solution, really, is to increase the number of pro-Synthetik voices…

So yeah! Representative, yes; famemonger, no. There’s actually quite a vast difference between the two definitions that’s worth looking into

*not counting all the bling and bitches we’ve been stockpiling. Literally stockpiling. We’ve got a room where we have our daily shipment of bitches stacked like cordwood, for better storage. The bling, though, we just throw in a pile

Sdtrk: ‘A lot of drugs’ by Venetian snares

As is our wont, on Friday eves, my good friend Marika stops round, and we watch several hours’ worth of Quality Entrétainment — we’re currently tearing our way through the second series of Ashes to ashes and the second half of Kamen rider Hibiki, for example. Last Friday, however, when I was confirming our plans via text, Mari indicated that she wanted to go see the new Transformers movie, Revenge of the Fallen. I nearly threw up all over my phone, which would’ve been an entirely appropriate response.

Getting this out of the way: I’m not what you might call a Transformers ‘fan’. I watched the show fervently when I was younger, as most Children Of The Eighties did. I didn’t see the feature film in theatres, but I did rent it — wept when Optimus Prime died, thought Arcee was clang clang sexy — but that’s the lot, really. Although I can quote numerous lines from the film without a second thought. On the other hand, Liann, goshou’s wife, is a walking Transformers encyclopaedia. She’s still got the Laserdisc boxsets for the never-aired-in-the-States Transformers 2010 series, among other paraphernalia. When the first live-action Transformers (hereby shortened to TF) movie debuted, I refused to see it cos I think Michael Bay should be dancing the Tyburn Jig for his crimes against film, and Liann refused as she’s a hardcore TF purist. Everyone in our Algonquin End Table was curious as to what went on in the film, cos they sure as fuck weren’t going to pay to see it. (In the interest of full disclosure, neither did I; as I was broke, Mari paid for my ticket.)

So: TF:ROTF! Two and a half hours of Nothing, at an elevated volume. It was literally an endurance test for me. Where does one start with this… steaming pile of shit, to put it charitably? Well, for one, I absolutely hate the mecha designs; they look like walking scrapyards. I understand that Bay reasoned that as they didn’t come from Earth, they’d have forms that were unfamiliar and otherworldly, which actually makes complete sense. However, it is possible to design mecha that don’t resemble Duchamp’s ‘Nude descending a staircase’. And the thing is, when in robot mode, they all look the same. Maybe it’s just me, but during battle, I couldn’t tell who was duking it out with whom. Coupled with the awful redesigns of familiar characters and the ADHD editing style, the fight scenes were genuinely tiresome — as a rule, epic battle scenes shouldn’t make the viewer yawn or check their watch, which is what I did, several times.

And how ’bout that mecha, huh? How ’bout Mudflap and Skids, the Autobot ‘twins’ who were the worst CG stereotypes since Jar-Jar Binks? I mean, honestly, when you have one character sporting a gold buck tooth, and the other’s crapping on about ‘bustin’ caps’, you have to wonder why they didn’t just name them Amos and Andy, and be done with it? Why halfass it?
Besides the whole racist bullshit, they were literally exhausting to look at. Later during the sixth or seventh hour of the movie, Devastator inhales one of the twins — the red one, whatever the fuck his name was — into his gaping maw, which naturally had me cheering. So then, you can imagine my immense disappointment when that twin ripped his way out of Devastator through his face, while yelling ‘I’M IN YO FACE!!’ It actually hurt to watch.

The plot, if you can call it that, has been detailed elsewhere, so I’ll not rehash it here. Heh, like there’s anything to rehash. io9’s got a fab review that’s negligibly more charitable than this one, so give that a look when you’re done here. But the plot — o, the plot! It had holes you could easily drive an Autobot through, har har.
One of the subplots has our ‘hero’, Sam Witwicky, played by Shia LeDouche (accurately described by Mark Kermode as a ‘charisma vacuum’) is at college, having left both his girlfriend Mikaela, portrayed by Megan Fox (who’s someone’s idea of sex on legs, but not mine — sorry, PB Shelley. Also, clubbed thumb) and Bumblebee, played by a shitty Camaro (who apparently damaged his vocal cords in the previous movie and hasn’t had them repaired, due to a plot contrivance), back home. Despite Sam and Mikaela being miles apart, they’ve promised to be faithful to each other. Whilst on campus, Sam is constantly being pursued by some blonde with a spray-on tan, who’s aggressively wet in the knickers for him. Eventually she corners him in his dormroom and pins him to the bed, which is exactly when Mikaela shows up for a surprise visit. O SO WACKY
Mikaela leaves in a huff, but the blonde lass reveals her true nature — she’s actually a Decepticon Gynoid! She chases Sam, his roommate, and Mikaela for a while until some Autobot comes out of nowhere and crushes her or shoots her or whatever; it’s inconsequential. And whoops! Was that a spoiler I just gave away, there? It sure was! And you should thank me; that’s one less reason for you to waste your time and money on TF:ROTF.
Now, you lot are undoubtedly thinking, ‘but Davecat, you love Gynoids! Surely that was one redeeming thing in the movie?’ Nope! For one, she looked like a Generic Blonde Maxim Reject when she was disguised as an Organik, and in Synthetik mode, she looked like a mashup of a Ray Harryhausen Medusa and… a Ray Harryhausen skeleton warrior. Needless to say, to me, she lacked sex appeal on not one, but two fronts, which is pretty impressive, if you think about it. Now consider; if the Decepticons can effectively disguise themselves as humans, don’t you think that’d be a more effective method of infiltration than transforming into planes and helicopters and the like? Bay didn’t even bother with an ill-conceived excuse as to why they didn’t — he just let it drop, hoping the audience wouldn’t bring it up again. Good job with that storytelling.

Another plot hole, you ask? Okay! Sam’s in his room above his parents, fiddling round with his hooded sweatshirt from the previous movie, when a shard of the cube from that movie falls out of the pocket. He picks it up, it gives him a shock, and he drops it. It then burns its way through the floor, and lands on the kitchen table, whereupon it sends out sparks that change all the small appliances in the room into Decepticons. Subsequently, they make their way upstairs, and proceed to arbitrarily attack Sleepy LaBeef, firing their guns, launching missiles, wielding saws, etc.
Right; so these are appliances made on Earth, correct? That being the case, I severely doubt Braun, or Oster, or KitchenAid, would manufacture toasters and microwaves and Cuisinarts that were fully-stocked with ammo. Otherwise, where did their weapons come from? O, Michael Bay’s arse? Okay, that… that actually makes sense.

When TF:ROTF wasn’t making me sigh with exasperation, it was boring me rigid, or offending me, or just plain enraging me. Too much crap onscreen at once, too much slo-mo, Linkin fucking park being part of the soundtrack, Generic Black Dude spouting Bay dialogue (‘That guy is an ASS HOLE’), Steven Spielberg, another director I hate, as executive producer, and a bad ratio of human characters to TF characters — cos if I’m seeing a film called Transformers, I’m really not there to see humans… all of these factors made for a truly appalling movie. I honestly can’t remember the last film I saw that I hated this much! Kudos, Michael Bay! ‘Kudos’, of course, being Greek for ‘I will grind your skull into pulp with my bare and twitching hands’.

After the movie let out, we got back round to mine, where I made Mari watch excerpts from the only Transformers film that matters:

What are they shooting at? Unicron’s behind them, and they’re firing ahead

Some might accuse me of constantly wearing Nostalgia Goggles; those people don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Every day, I pop in my pair of Nostalgia Contact Lenses. Honestly, I don’t get out of bed without them

Sdtrk: ‘Pencil skirt’ by Pulp

You know how it goes with these things — celery debts come in trees. Wait, that’s not right.

Ed McMahon (06 Mar 1923 – 23 Jun 2009): Back in highschool, I could usually be relied upon for a decent Ed McMahon impersonation. Let’s see if I can still pull it off… *clears throat*

‘Heyy-o!! That’s a good one Johnny, and topical, too!’

Yep, still got it

Farrah Fawcett (02 Feb 1947 – 25 June 2009): As my mind is firmly stuck several decades in the past ninety per cent of the time, I nearly typed ‘Farrah Fawcett-Majors’, there.
Singlehandedly responsible for the sexual awakening of many a young lad during the Seventies thanks to ‘Charlie’s Angels’ — with the exception of myself, as I always preferred Kate Jackson — Farrah never did any harm to anyone. And good on her

Michael Jackson (29 Aug 1958 – 25 June 2009): Hurrr. As the adage goes, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Mmm hm.
Let’s just say this: growing up during the years back when the mighty MTV walked the earth, I liked MJ. I can recall back in eighth grade, my homeroom class was herded into the school’s library, where we all watched the full-length version of the ‘Thriller’ video. For a while, I even had a cassette copy of that album. But as time passed and I got older, I began refining my musical tastes more. Sure, I used to like MJ, but then, I also used to like Wham! and Prince. I used to like eating flapjacks with catsup slathered all over them, but I grew out of all of those things. Also, for sure he was a bizarre individual, but eccentricity should be praised, not damned. But I would say that.
So I suppose ultimately I didn’t dislike him because his music didn’t appeal to me, or because of his strange behaviour, but really it comes down to the whole child-touching thing. You know.

See? I managed to not say anything that can’t be considered not nice about Wacko Jacko! O, wait

Epilogue (this happened today before my work shift began):
WOMAN AT WORK: I know you a Michael Jackson fan, right?
ME: No.
WOMAN AT WORK: Awww! Well, I’m devastated.
ME: Huh.

Sdtrk: ‘Today’s rhythm people’ by The Focus group

Hrrm. Is anyone else here somewhat disappointed that, upon activation yesterday, the Large Hadron Collider didn’t spawn a cluster of black holes, thereby compressing this miserable planet into gravel in moments? Go on, raise your hands

Sdtrk: ‘Roma’ by Pizzicato five

Cos you’ve heard it before, really. But perusing my stats this eve, I did get a hearty laugh out of someone hitting ‘Shouting etc etc’ through a phrase that (temporarily) shifted the scowl from my face:

As a completely unrelated point of interest, I’d also like to point out that on average, the price of a gallon of 87-octane petrol in the tri-county area is between $3.79 – $4.07 USD. Just something to consider