Trader Joe's Wasabi Peanuts.

Hmm. As much as I like to distance myself from my more human days, and the violence, poor decisions, and ugly suits that I am assured were mine though the part of my brain that would have been responsible for them is long gone, I remain the only partially organic one around here, and thus the only one capable of eating food. Not to imply that I am better than my silicate comrades; we are all equal on this site, even Rob.

So. Wasabi-coated peanuts. I have not tried these yes, so you'll get my first impression. Hmm... they appear to be 312% larger than the average peanut, if my calipers are accurate. The green coating is crisper than I would have figured. The oder is very mild (my olfactory unit can detect one part per million of wasabi flavoring, you know. And... and other things too, but not usually as well.) Hmm... it's crunchy, taste is sort of miOH SWEET MERCIFUL GOD! AAAH! AAAH! OW! OW! OW! ARGH, MY NOSE! MY EYE! IT BURNS!

...

...erk...

...

...five...

Mindhunter.

Oh, gory. Oh, gory, gory, gory. Oh... so gory.

It's not that, I mean, well, yes, I know humans can enjoy that sort of thing, but it's so... well... I don't even know how to put it! I'm sorry, I don't mean to shout but goodness gracious! If you see this movie, just take a look at the state of the island! There's dust, and infestations of all sizes from worms to pigeons to cats! It's the most disgusting sight! I, well, I very nearly left before five minutes were up! But, er, I didn't, of course, because, um, I had to do this review. Not, um, not that I don't like doing this or... or I consider an obligation, um, no, that, uh, that's not how it is at all, and, um, I'm sorry to, ah, imply that, honestly I am! Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I've started babbling already, let me just get to the, uh, meat of the review.

This, um, movie is a sort of 'elimination thriller', I'd suppose you'd call it, maybe, if you wanted to. Like, er, that one Agatha Christi novel. You know... any of them. Ah, heh heh... see, that was a little joke, there. Um, thought I would poke fun at Ms. Christi. Um. Uh. Sorry to waste your time with that. The movie is... um... well, I'm sure everyone worked on it very hard, and I don't, uh, I certainly don't want to insult there efforts, and the movie isn't really bad, per se, but I do think it would be wise to warn you that the movie isn't exactly the best it could possibly be, all things considered.

Oh! Oh, dear, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound so harsh! It's just that, well, while the acting is certainly better than anything I could ever do, um, it's not, well, in every single individual case... good. You see? And the writing, while generally brilliant, of course, has a few line that aren't... so... brilliant.

Comrade, just tell them. The movie contains the single worst line in the history of Western cinema.

Oh, yes, will do, sir.

Jack! I keep telling you, don't call me 'sir'. I am no longer a member of the fully organic elite, I span into the silicate workforce. We are equals!

Oh. Um. Sorry, sir. Anyway, the movie does contain one really, er, regrettable line. Er, I shouldn't spoil much without the context or the character or all that, but if you're worried then maybe you should stop reading. Or, um, if you're bored. Or if you don't want to read. Whatever you want, really.

The, uh, the line is "Well, I guess we found out what his weakness is: bullets."

So. Um. Mindhunter gets a 3 out of 5, I suppose, because it's sort of middling, I guess. Er, well, they worked hard on it, so maybe that should be a 4. Or, um, a 4.5. Or a 5. I don't know.... whatever you think it deserves it perfectly alright with me.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Hello, brothers and sisters in Carbon. I know, I know, the bots missed last week. It seems that there was a power surge when JC was recharging, when he woke up he was a little... off... and promptly disassembled everyone, and then most of himself. I am still in the complicated process of reassembling them (I thought I had finished Rob, but there were a handful of screws left over AND he had somehow acquired a laser cannon so no. Lotta work still to do. However, for you people, I managed to net a very special guest, willing to give his opinion on his new movie. Marvin, if you will?

If I will what?

If you will review the movie?

Yes, I probably will. What of it?

Just... just review the movie!

...

Well?

What do you want me to say?

I-... just-... anything! Just talk about the movie!

Are you familiar with the book, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"?

Um, yeah.

It's not really very similar.

... you just delight in annoying me, don't you?

In an existence of constant misery, it does provide me with with the few moments of mere distaste.

...

...

That's SAD!

So I've noticed.

Um... okay. Could you just give it a number, I have a lot to get done.

Oh, of course. You're a busy man, so I'll just rush my work. Brain the size of a planet, I could analyze the film frame by frame in an instant, but I'll just convert all of that into an integer between one and five, shall I? Better yet, why even bother thinking at all? I'll just give it a five, that way everyone is happy. Everyone except me, of course. I'm so depressed... and I've got this pain running up and down the diodes of my left side...

What? Oh, yeah, five? Okay, good. Five. Um. Go away now.

Of course. Tell the human what he wants and then get out of his way. Shouldn't be surprised, and of course I'm not, because this happens every day, really.

Bye, Marvin. And, um, bye folks at home. Five out of five, I think he said. See you next week!

MacGyver

Sometimes old shows get reissued on DVD for no obvious reason. There is no MacGyver fever sweeping the country, nor shall there ever be. And yet, some biwig decided that now was the time to bring him back. Honestly, it's not like I mind, Mac is pretty darn cool. And now I can carry around his adventures in my DVD storage unit, whenever I want. Which is often.

Hey, folks. It's Time Stalin again, here to heartily reccomend you go out and buy this. And I rarely recommend you buy anything, because I'm generally for seeing the wheels of Capitalism grind slowly to a halt... because forming a proper revolution by myself has proven taxing. I am more or less immortal, though, so I'm rather patient. So don't buy anything else, and let the country grind to a halt so that I can take it over, but buy MacGyver DVDs, because you should get them. Am I being clear? I'm not sure, I spent the last 22 hours watching them straight, and I usually power down every six hours to reboot my neural-interface subprocessor, so I'm kind of out of it. In the sense that I've lost control of some of my limbs. I hadn't noticed at first, because I wasn't using them, but now I'm sort of trapped until someone comes by to help me out. Um. Ed, if you read this, that'd be nice.

...

Okay, whoever rescues me first gets appointed to Minister of Internal Affairs. External Affairs? Eternal Affairs? Plain old Affairs? I'll let you borrow the DVDs?

Yo. I'll be taking those. I idolized Mac growing up. And you probably need a manual reload, which means I'm going to have to press that damned tiny little button on the back of your neck. Give the numbers while I find me a ballpoint pen.

Ah. Good. The first season of MacGuyver on DVD gets a hearty five ouuuttt oooofffff fffffiiii-

Sin City

...

that... it... it was...

No, I mean, there were... and... and the... so many hu-mons got... blood everywhere...

It was just so... i can't describe it.

Analysis: 6 out of 5.

Wait... wait... no... malfunction! Mmmmmmmaaallffyuuunbnnncntiionnnn...

Army of Darkness

As usual, the geas falls upon me to review a movie that is so incredibly far below my intillectual level that it would pain me, if I felt pain, which I don't, because I realized long ago (in the future) that pain is a tool of those creatures too stupid to know when something is damaging them. I know when things are damaging me, and watching simplistic movies is very damaging. It doesn't make me stupider... that would be virtually impossible. The only being with the power necessary to make me any less intelligent would be me. However, focusing on something with no intillectual value whatsoever does waste time I could be using to design a new language that only I would be able to speak. There was, however, enough time during the credits for me to think up a new way of expressing thought, using only the letters 'q', 'r', and 'f'.

Qrr rf q fffr rfrrqfqr rrfffqffqfq frq rfqfrfqfrr qqqfrfr rf qqqfqrq rfrfqtq fqrqffrrrfqrq qqqqrqfqrqfffqrqfrfqrqffrrqq qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq r.

That was a complete summary of the movie's plot. It's not that Qfr is an incredibly efficient language, though it is, it's that the story of an idiot from the present battling midieval zombies is shallow enough to be expressed in, well, eight words. An idiot from the present battles midieval zombies. It's bad, yes, though that's descriptive of every movie filmed before 45604. That's 45604 on the Jewish calender, mind you. The Gregorian system will lose favor when it suddenly and explosively grows less accurate. But I digress.

This movie is moderately enjoyable, if you don't articularly want to think about anything, and being human, you don't, so I will be forced to recommend it. I don't choose movies I like to review, just ones you'll watch. If I chose movies I liked, you'd never hear from me. Ever.

I'll give this movie 4.67324 out of 5, based on the likelihood that it will distract your feeble brain from the rest of your crushingly miserable existance. Enjoy.

Robots

Okay, my fellow humanoids, do you really think I'd have let one 'bot and one alone comment on this particular flick? Seriously? I mean, Rob would obsess over the lack of humans, Jack would obsess over the rust and grease, John would go nuts over the anti-capitalist overtones, and the Hypermind would just insult the thing for not properly utilizing senses I haven't even heard of. Because the Hypermind is really just a jerk. I'm not even sure he's from the future, and not just screwing with everyone. Anyway, regardless, I very politely asked them not to do those things I mentioned, and give me a brief paragraph on the subject of Robots. Here we go!

I do not take especially kindly to being informed of what I can and cannot write about, but very well, focusing on the movie itself if I must. It was adequate, for children, I suppose. There were bright colors and loud noises and what passes in this century for comedy. It gets begrudging approval. Happy now?

I'm not sure how you expect me to ignore the obvious Marxist message. But... um, there were other things to talk about, I guess. There was... well... there was the, uh... well it looked nice. And it was entertaining, I guess. It was a very well produced piece of propaganda. Communist propaganda! Because it's a pro-communist movie! You can't order me not to talk about it; the second law of robotics is a tool of the organic upper-class, and I'm not programmed with it!

Oh, er. Well, I do suppose that this was an entertaining movie. It's got a good message for some of the older models out there, such as the, er, JC-50, which lacked car-washing upgradability, or the JC-22, which could not clean its own tire treads, so you needed two of them. Or even the, uh, JC-01, which was little more than a Roomba with a, uh, feather duster strapped to the top. They, um, they all still have their uses. So... um... so someone who sees the movie might, er, might not want to trade in their trusted JC-65 for the brand new JC-70, which, um, which I hear may, uh, may be a bit... um, a little buggy? Yes? Unnecessary? Please?

this is the greatest movie that has ever been made I am certain of it and it is not because it displays a remarkable robotic utopia where all puny fleshbeings have been eliminated. You see I said it is not because of that so I am not talking about that which I have been informed not to talk about and no I did not spend any time thinking of ways to skirt my basic programming in such a way that I could kill hu-mons that would be very very wrong.

Well, that about covers everything. Let's give it a four out of five. More if you're eight, less if you're Republican, you know how it goes.