How Terminator Salvation’s Heart Transplant Should Have Gone

Random resistance medic: John Connor needs a new heart.

Marcus: Take mine.

RRP: What? No! Are you insane? You’re the most insanely valuable soldier, equipment, and intelligence resource we have! You know how our enemy operates and you can access Skynet systems – which will be really important if our entirely computerized enemy ever stops leaving open human-accessible laptops and walkways in all its facilities for no reason!

Marcus: You need him more. He’s John Connor! He’s the leader of the resistance!

RRP: No, the leaders of the resistance literally ignored him to their death in this movie. He’s so unimportant that Terminators literally forgot to Terminate his father before he existed. That has been their only plan for decades, and in this continuity he’s so optional they didn’t bother.

Marcus: Everybody deserves a second chance.

RRP: Okay, how about, “I’m a doctor and I am not murdering you”. When did it become okay to tear a healthy person’s heart out? Are we the human resistance or Huitzilopochtli cultists? Damnit, my buddy Jeff has a prosthetic leg, can I tear out his liver if I drink too much? If I was wearing my glasses would you punch through my ribcage? Shit, if we’re killing people anyway, let’s just strip one from one of the dozens of injured soldiers outside since they’re demonstratably not bulletproof. You can probably see them with your Terminator vision, and carry them back with your Terminator strength, and do all kinds of other things we can’t because you’re a damn Terminator and we’re not throwing you away to get a spare part for an asshole!

Hell, I got it, your name’s John now. You’ve done more for us anyway, and every single one of your decisions this movie wasn’t completely wrong, unlike some Johns in the tent. Welcome to humanity, John Better-Connor. Hurray!

Fix more movies with Pacific Rim: How The Kaidanovskys Survived and 8 Explanations For The Lack Of Women In Star Wars.

The Sagrada Familia

The Sagrada Familia is one of the most amazing buildings in the world. You could call it a church in the same way you could call a Cray supercomputer an odd-shaped coffee-table: using it that way misses the point, but that doesn’t detract from the sheer genius within. It became a world heritage site before it was even finished. It’s one of the most famous buildings in the world and it’s still not finished.

The Sagrada Familia temple is surrounded by construction cranes in Barcelona

They have smartly-dressed staff whose main job is asking people not to stand stunned on the main entrance stairs, and they deal with almost exactly as many people as the ticket counter.


Entering, your first thought is that humanity has reached heaven by building a space station. It’s a soaring forest of skill in stone.

Notre Dame is an immensity constructed to crush the human spirit in awe, squeezing a flow of supplicants for the wine of surrendered devotion. St Paul’s cathedral is a pre-industrial black hole of money, a singularity of sheer wealth deforming the entire world it dragged around itself. Sagrada Familia is the first church I’ve entered where I felt like we were the point. This is a church which celebrates the humans who made it possible. The altar and torture-figure dropped into the middle barely register on the scale of the structural beauty. Large pictures of popes cry for attention, but their pleas are lost amid the monument. If this building glorifies one man it’s Antoni Gaudi. Who may in fact have been an Eldar.

The building enhances and endorses us, exemplifying our greatest achievements and inviting us to realize just how high we can reach. It doesn’t even have pews, just an array of folding seats, as if the religious ceremonies were just one temporary function of this incredible achievement. I know that’s only because the pews will be the last thing installed when there’s no more heavy lifting to be done. But I also know it’s still a good metaphor for human intelligence and progress.

Watching Frozen

Watching Frozen, you can physically feel Disney heaving their arms free of the  quagmire as they watch Pixar sprint into the distance. But that swamp is seventy years of their own movies and there’s still a long way to go.

The movie starts so well. Indigenous Scandinavian music pounds and choirs through the cinema and you think “Yes! Maybe this Disney musical won’t be Americans talking to each other over music!” Nope! But that was a nice thought while it lasted. It was like Disney realized that musical flexibility and an entire world of inspiration were wonderful things, then ticked that box as done in the first five minutes.

Then they do the exact same thing with the characters, opening with Elsa, an empowered, interesting, and deeply conflicted character, then whipping her away to make room for Anna’s quest for love. Because looking for a boyfriend is much more interesting than a superpowered struggle against the elements and self. You’re halfway through before you realize that Elsa isn’t the main character but the unintentional villain, and instead of seeing someone struggle with their true nature we watch Anna looking for a boy, hurray, found a boy! Sure, the first boy she met was evil, but then the second one is great, so if you think all your problems will be solved as long as you find a boy you’re absolutely right about that. Just keep looking.

I mean, who wants to see an array of gorgeously rendered ice effects representing a deep emotional struggle for self-acceptance anyway. Apart from everyone who loved “Let it go” as the best bit of the movie, because that should have been the entire movie. Instead let’s watch two teenagers pretend they’re not going to bang for a solid hour and a half.

The king and queen are the worst parents in history (“Don’t every use your abilities, to help we’ll lock you in a room where you have nothing else to even think about doing for your entire life!”), but they’re also the worst king and queen in history. They’re scared of people finding out about Elsa’s powers and forming an angry mob, and sure, that might be a risk if you’re a commoner and stupid enough NOT to freeze people who are trying to burn you at the stake, but they’re royalty! They live in a castle! They have an army! Their entire life, job, and social structure is designed to be utterly mob-proof!

Plus they live in country whose only access routes are water and already half-impossible frozen mountains. They should have introduced her as a blessing, princess, and ultimate weapon all at once. “Behold, our kingdom need never fear invasion again! And if anyone feels like complaining, first please watch what happens when Elsa freezes this banana and then hits it with a hammer.”

8 Explanations For The Lack Of Women In Star Wars

The cast announcement for Star Wars VII confirms that in a galaxy far far away, humans don’t have an equal male/female ratio, but a male-football-team-per-single-female referee/trophy combination rotio. Which is especially embarrassing since “a long time ago” is now 2014, and counting, and for fuck’s sake.

"Does this image STILL have a better gender ratio and message than the modern movies?"

“Does this image STILL have a better gender ratio and message than the modern movies?”

The expanded universe has dozens of female characters. Hell, even the regular fan-fiction has more female characters, if only because you need at least a 1:1 ratio for most heterosexual sex fantasies, or the propagation of a species, or to even pretend that you aren’t sexist in the modern world. You have serious problems when you have a worse gender disparity than DarthFap’s twelve-part Chewie/Leia epic “Walking all over the carpet (and he likes it)”.

Which is why I’m trying to come up with other explanations for the mismatch.

  • Every actress approached went “Star Wars? That’s the one where the most powerful woman in the galaxy was made to prance in a bikini for an actual slug, right?”
  • Attempts to create an equally yonic weapon to balance out the phallic lightsaber caused every female Jedi to accidentally commit plasma-seppuku.
  • Why yes, the whole point of the Force is to be a magic ability which utterly negates any advantage based on physical strength or speed, but, uh, the secret fourth Jedi test is opening a jar in a room full of mice or something.
  • All other women removed from the plot by the powerful “Wearing More Prosthetics Than Clothes Creepy Alien Burlesque Dancers In Every Star Wars” union. All of whom were immediately publicly executed on screen for no clear reason.
  • Seriously, they wanted the “princess” and “stripper” tropes but only had one female character, and instead of realizing the problem they just did both. All they needed do was strip Solo near-naked for freezing and it would have had something for everyone. And Jabba could have used the carbonite wall as a coat-hanger.
  • Sure, I’d love to appear in an iconic movie, only to be cut before anyone could see me like those lady X-wing pilots (not) in the first movie.
  • They meant a really long time ago, like before sexual reproduction, and every person you see on screen reproduces asexually. Note that this is still less stupid than the real reasons, and still introduces less plot holes than the prequels.
  • “Maybe the midichlorians” but the person who even mentions those things is immediately beaten into silence, so we’ll never know.


Continue the astroconflict with Patch Notes for C3P0.1