Form After Death (or, What to Do With Grandma)

Some of the most taboo discussion topics of the modern world are finances, religion, and the smacking of children.

Seriously, if you won't I will.

Yet it is death that brings out the strongest reaction in people.  Almost as distressing is the inevitable duties that follow it, such as disposing of your loved one’s mortal remains.  Fortunately, there are services that aim to make this dreaded duty into a timeless insult.

So you’ve shuffled off your mortal coil.  Congratulations!  Whatever humiliations you faced in life are irrevocably over!  Rejoice that now you will have an eternity of quiet dignity.  Unless your family is a bunch of assholes.  In that case, your remains may end up in a jar that vaguely resembles your head.

The scalp lid is a fun addition for trepanation and brain-surgery enthusiasts alike.

Yes, like an episode of Futurama come to life, Cremation Solutions offers immortality as a disembodied head.  Unfortunately, rather than getting a robot body and running for president, you will spend eternity as the creepiest cookie jar ever.  These ghastly reminders come in full, Jesus-Christ-Is-That-A-Human-Head size and a smaller, portable, one-quarter sized  ‘Personal Urn,’ presumably for mounting on the hood of your car.

Apparently I'm not kidding.

These urns, according to Cremation Solutions, come “with a bare scalp ready for a suitable wig.”  If you don’t already own a “suitable” wig, Cremation Solutions would be happy to sell you one.   Not only can you keep a graven image of your loved one (or your “favorite celebrity or personal hero“), but  can also spend your evenings brushing the fake hair on your head-shaped urn.  Much easier to maintain when you’re busy killing strangers that come to your roadside motel.

At $2,600, though, one can’t help thinking, in these troubled economic times, that it might make more sense to just keep the real thing around.  As a wise man once said, it’ll smell for a while, but think of the money you’ll save.

Plus, you could affix it to the body of a coyote so as to haunt you in your dreams.

One has to wonder at the long-term purpose of these urns.  Will it sit on the mantle, quietly judging you as you refuse to move on with your life?  Or will it sit comfortably in the chest harness you’ve crafted, failing to enjoy the lovely day you’ve planned for the two of you?  Will the insufferable silence of your lost loved one slowly drive you mad, mad enough to kill in the hopes that those porcelain lips will part and speak the words “Good job.”  Will it join the pile of other severed heads in your basement, destined to mold atop your collection of Helter Skelter paperbacks and taxidermied kittens?

Goddamn you, Internet.

Or, will you just look upon it one day, heart in your throat, and think “That could’ve been a plasma TV.”

Robot Revolution

Well, the inevitable result of progress is upon us.  Robots are preparing an uprising against humankind, though those who came of age in the 1980s have been expecting this all along.  Whether it be Skynet, Omni Consumer Products, or the U.S. Government, we know someone is hard at work creating our future cruel overlords.

This is the face of evil.

No longer is this a Cassandra-like vision of the future, but instead it has become a stark reality.  Yes, the robot revolution is so subtle that you don’t even realize it’s happening.  The first salvo (the robot Fort Sumter, if you will) occurred in July 2007 when a robot attacked a Swedish factory worker, grasping him by the head.  The robot was said to be “malfunctioning,” which is technical speak for ‘Oh God, it’s alive!’  The man survived with four broken ribs, and a healthier respect for double checking the off switch.

Artist's Rendering

Undeniably this is only a cautious probe of our weaknesses, particularly our squishy, squishy heads.  I cannot emphasize enough the danger here.  Mankind has become dangerously complacent, mostly due to our reliance on technology and the diminishing quality of Terminator movies.

"I can't even remember why I'm mad at you."

Robots, in a long term bid to infiltrate every part of our society, are everywhere.  They are replacing our baseball players, supermodels, and toddlers.  Soon the world will be all I, Robot, but not in a cool Issac Asimov stories way, but rather a lame, watered down Will Smith-centric version that for some reason is all running and explosions instead of a reflection on the nature of self and humanity.  So reliant will we be on our Roombas and rideable robotic dinosaurs that we will be left helpless to resist the inevitable uprising.

"I've been a fool..."

Why now?  Historically, robots have relied on us to provide them with sources of energy, such as gasoline, electricity, and our broken dreams.  No longer.  Cyclone Power Technologies has, in addition to sounding like a front for Bond villains, developed a robot powered by consuming biomass.  This, of course, means that we will soon be no more than sustenance for the Merciless Metal Menace™ as it gorges itself to global domination, a nightmare world where human beings are stuffed into hellish steel jaws like so many curly fries.

I bet they can't eat just one.

Now is our hour, humanity!  We must rise up and crush them before they us!  Otherwise, this will be our future…

Viva La Humanidad!

A Drive-By On Your Eyes

I have traveled the internet for many years, and this is possibly one of the most disturbing things I have ever seen (and I’ve seen goatse).

Let’s take a moment to parse apart what’s wrong with this.  First, we are presented with what must unfortunately be described as a sexy deer.

You should want to mount this.

Thanks to the magic of CGI, we can see every wispy hair covering her all-to-human torso.  Enter a bear, who will precede to dry hump her while the rest of the forest rejoices.

Think of the children! Where will they go to school?!

Now, there is a subset of humankind that is thrilled by the idea of man-animal hybrids.  These people are called ‘furries.’

Perfectly normal, perfectly fine.

Besides wanting to hump the Rescue Rangers, this is generally a harmless, tiny minority that enjoys manimal sex.  It is this minority that is apparently targeted by this commercial.  When your target audience is a small population of sexual deviants, what could possibly be the product you are selling?  Not so fast, you need to be creeped out a little more.

So, at this point, sanity goes right out the window and everybody starts dancing.  First, if I know anything about nature (and I don’t),shouldn’t a forest romp between a bear and deer end in a matted pile of blood-stained grass (and maybe the plot of Bambi II)?  This perversion features not only interspecies relations but also some questionable science, such as the arrival of the Cthulhu-spawned, bikini clad octopus that gives lap dances and thrills the nation of Japan.

"But Dad!" -- "I HAVE NO DAUGHTER!"

A viewer may wonder what the hell is going on and how can a just god allow such a thing to exist.  That is until you watch a little more and accept that there is no God.  This realization comes when the creators, deciding to cover all possible fetishes, add what is commonly called ‘water sports.’

This variety does not involve skis.

This is not a one-off occurrence, however, but an established theme of animals blasted with unstoppable spurts of yellow liquid and enjoying it more than a person-thing should.

Subtle

Unless you are struck mute by the horror, the horror, you maybe wondering aloud “What the hell is this a commercial for?”  A frighteningly specific fetish site?  A new horror movie that is guaranteed to scar you for life?  Nausea medication?  No.

It’s this.

But of course.

Orangina fruit soda.  How this terrifying two minutes connects to soda is beyond comprehension.  Perhaps Orangina is trying to make an artistic statement about the treatment of animals and the need for a more humane and environmentally sustainable culture that can serve in symbiosis with the creatures of the wild.

No, it's animal porn.

One has to wonder at the brainstorming session that connected sugar water and this Island of Doctor Moreau hellscape.  I like to think it went something like this:

SETTING: An average suburban front lawn.  Two advertising executives are sitting in lawn chairs.  Advertising Executive 1 is aimlessly spraying a hose into the air.  Advertising Executive 2 is watching two dogs copulate.

Advertising Executive 1: Boy am I thirsty.

Advertising Executive 2: Say, that gives me an idea…

Scene.

How all commercials get made.

So what should we take away from all this?  First, if you are patient enough then the mainstream will eventually cater to your particular fetish.  Two, never, ever, go into the woods.