'Millions Watching Robots Battle to Death' Actually Boring

ulp magazines of the '50s as well as sci-fi literature and movies by the dozens accurately predicted the future of entertainment when they envisioned a day when millions of Americans would watch battles to the death between robot opponents. Few, though, imagined it would be so boring and lame.

Television shows like Comedy Central's Battle Bots and similar specials and series from around the world are proving to be the unlikely source for futuristic robot death battles. Though many differ on some points, all prove to be astoundingly dull in the destruction of technologically-advanced killing machines.

"As a boy, I anticipated with fear and wonder the day robots would be used to entertain the masses," said M.I.T. Professor of Robotics Larry Karmen, "but yeah, I didn't really see it like this. I don't even know where to start."

The robots on Battle Bots are typically remote-controlled, less than two feet tall, and are equipped with standard woodshop equipment like saws, drills, and occasionally a blowtorch of some sort. Robot operators range from dateless thirteen-year-old child prodigies to 50-year-old dateless unemployed construction workers.

"I guess the names are cool," said robot enthusiast and publisher of Future Age magazine Don Hogarth. "You have names like 'The Revolver' and 'Fireblast,' real awesome Transformer-like names. And then the robot comes out and it's like a little George Foreman grill on wheels. And you get real annoyed as it just spins around while another robot named 'Mass Destruction' hits it with a hammer on the end of a miniature crane."

"The problem is obviously related to budget," stated Professor Karmen. "Comedy Central and the British TV program its Battle Bots was based on had the right idea, but a lousy budget. Basic cable is not capable of building the 20-foot-tall fire-breathing self-running destruction machines we originally envisioned for this kind of mayhem. Most kids operating out of their garage are not going to have the kind of funding to build a competitive robot on that level, and neither are their mothers. Unless all these millionaires who are spending money to fly around the world in balloons get their stuff together and start building city-crushing robots, I don't see much improvement on the battling robot front for many years to come."

When told of the dissenting opinion of robot battle sports, Comedy Central Battle Bots star Slaughterhouse became infuriated and began to smash up its dressing room with a hammer on a tiny crane arm.

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Though it might surprise the ignorant, the holiday of Christmas was celebrated long before Christ came along and limp-wristed his way into the history books, or at least the history books that are available at most major motels. They didn't call it Christmas back then, since that would just be spooky, but regardless, the winter solstice was celebrated for eons before Christ laid the golden turd.

In northern lands, ancient peoples celebrated the passing of the midpoint of winter, looking ahead to longer days and the return of the light, which would remind them just how ugly their neighbors were. With the light came the melting of the snow, which rang in the springtime removal of the dead bodies of all the dumb assholes who had frozen to death over the winter. Hence the term "spring cleaning" was coined, though over time it's somehow come to mean some yuppie sponging out his microwave.

The Norse in Scandanavia celebrated Yule, a vague holiday that involved eating and went on for however damn long they wanted it to. Anyone who asked if the holiday was over yet was eaten, and as a result it often dragged on for months.

The ancient Germans didn't celebrate, since they were German, but they were scared shitless of the pagan God Oden, who they placated by never going outside. The exchange of goods in the winter months consisted of things being thrown from one house's window to the next. This usually worked fairly well but mishaps did occur, and most houses had at least a few frozen chickens stuck to their outside walls. The biggest problem was that if the town butcher threw his back out, the entire town would starve, since Germans don't believe in vegetables except for sauerkraut.

The Romans had their own insane version of Christmas, which basically involved everybody getting naked, fucking, and throwing up all morning. They had a few other traditions rolled in there, but mainly they were just thinly disguised excuses for fucking.

In the early days of Christianity, Easter was the only holiday, and it got so out of hand that they were afraid to add any more. The early Christians were known for having an extreme early version of Attention Deficit Disorder, and as a result the celebration of Christ's resurrection soon morphed into a mutant strain when somebody thought they said procreation and they started dressing up like rabbits, and then somebody brought a bunch of eggs because he didn't have a rabbit costume and didn't know what else to do, and then somebody else said "Fuck eggs, I like chocolate!" and the modern insane Easter was born.

In the fourth century, the church decided it was safe to make another go at it and they added a celebration for the birth of Christ. There was a slight problem in that nobody had any idea when Christ was born, and the Bible just said something about there was tallow in the Eastern bung and nobody knew what month that was supposed to mean. The problem was solved when Pope Julius I scratched his nose for a while and then declared that Christ was born on December 25th. When scholars argued that this ran counter to all available evidence, he pope-slapped them and told everyone that if they wanted to piss off Oden, that was their own prerogative. Everybody agreed it was December 25th after that.

Julius I's real motivation was a clever one. By throwing the celebration for the birth of Christ at the same time when all of the non-Christians were celebrating the winter solstice by balling their brains out, he could confuse people into thinking that they were celebrating Christianity by drinking a lot of beer and nailing everything in the house to a tree, a deception that still stands to this day.

Once the Puritans took over England, they outlawed Christmas, and anything else that people liked to do. This lasted for about ten seconds before the people rose up and kicked their gay asses out of the country. They washed up in North America, complaining constantly about being religiously persecuted, and then outlawed Christmas there, too. The problem was that the Native Americans didn't know what Christmas was, so the Puritans had to teach them how to decorate their teepees with popcorn and nuts and little ballerinas on the outside, and then tell them never to do it.

Living with the Puritans eventually drove the Native Americans to drinking, which the Puritans had taught them to do so they could tell them not to do that, either. Eventually the Puritans died out after they decided that opening their eyes was sinful and then were all eaten by bears at night. But because of them, generations of Americans grew up without traditional Christmas orgies.

Eventually Charles Dickens wrote The Christmas Carol, which he completely pulled out of his ass during a wild weeklong acid binge. NaĂŻve American readers believed that he was talking about real holiday traditions, and were pissed that none of the immigrants had told them about the fun of Christmas. Several immigrant-bashing why-didn't-you-tell-us-about-Christmas riots followed, and America's new arrivals quickly learned to make up traditions on the spot to appease the custom-starved masses.

Soon the entire country was celebrating a bastard amalgam of made-up holiday customs, believing that the Dutch or Ubangi or some goddamned people had actually strung lights up in trees and drank fermented egg snot for hundreds of years. The church was quick to remind everyone that Christ was born on Christmas, too, and they skylarked a story about three traveling salesmen giving presents to baby Jesus to make it all sort of tie together.

You might wonder how Santa Claus came into all of this, but that was all just a Coke commercial that everyone assumed was referencing an ancient tradition. To this very day, the guys at Coca-Cola are still kicking themselves that they didn't name the guy Santa Coke. Scandinavians may argue that Santa was based on their ancient myth about an elf named Jultomten who delivers presents in a goat-drawn sled, but that's just stupid.

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Dear Commune:

You have my phone number. You, the commune. You need to call the phone company and straighten this out. I've had the same phone number for 42 years and I'm NOT about to give it up. Thank you.

Agnes Knutson
Bromade, NJ


Dear Agnes:

We here at the commune are very sorry to hear that your life has become interesting in a way that makes you mildly uncomfortable. Obviously, we'll call the phone company right away and make sure they restore to you the number you've earned by staying in the same miserable place for your entire life. Pssssh! Right! You can stuff it up your ass with the nice old lady act, lady. We here at the commune pay our bills, biiiiatch, and if you see fit to bring your mess all up in our shit again you will be introduced to some mad hurtin'. Damn. Also, tell your withered old biddy friends to stop calling here, they keep kicking us off the Internet.

the commune

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Editor's Note: the commune is not responsible for anything we got your kids to eat. Lengthy precedent has established that U.S. courts consider a triple dog dare to be legally binding.

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