I like the STAR WARS prequels. Therefore, I am superior to all the anal-retentive buttheads running around whining “The prequels suck! They’re not entertaining enough! They–waaah–don’t make enough sense! Waaahhh, haaaahhh, HAAA-AAA-AAAAHHH!!!” What a bunch of slobbering little crybabies who should shut up. The STAR WARS prequels are fun popcorn movies with great SPFX, just like the original trilogy. So either shut up and enjoy them, or just shut up period. I’m sick of the constant whining, and I’m not afraid to say so on the Internet where you can’t hit me. NYAAH-nyaaahhh!

And the same goes for the MATRIX sequels. Sure, they’re dumb, and they lack utter, mind-blowing greatness, but so what? A lot of people are so spoiled now, every single movie that comes out has to completely blow their brains out the back of their skulls or they “suck.” According to them, even movies that I think are really, really cool and great “suck.” Either that, or they’re “overrated.” I swear, I’m beginning to despise the word “overrated” almost as much as I despise whiffle balls.

Go to any message board, start a thread called “What movies do you think are overrated?”, and watch the blithering idiots descend on it like flies on Beefaroni. BLADE RUNNER’s overrated. 2001’s overrated. RAGING BULL’s overrated. The GODFATHER movies, the ALIENs, the TERMINATORs, all three LORD OF THE RINGS films, anything by that no-talent plagiarizing hack Tarantino, blah blah BLAH. GONE WITH THE WIND is overrated. CITIZEN KANE–CITIZEN FRICKIN’ KANE–is overrated.
In other words, anything totally great that has been loved by millions of people for years is overrated. Oh, excuse me–did I say “people”? I meant to say “sheeple.” Because the truly discerning movie connoisseur is infinitely more intelligent than the lowly lemming-like “sheeple” who actually, you know, “like” stuff.

And yes, I’m being sarcastic. DUHHH.

What isn’t overrated to these semi-human pus-spewing warthog-buttock zits? Boring foreign art films that I either never heard of, or heard of and want to watch about as much as I want to play with whiffle balls. Unless, of course, those boring foreign art films made a lot of money and were popular. Then they, too, are overrated. Which they probably are, but that’s beside the point.

Of course, movies aren’t the only things that are overrated in the eyes of these above-it-all snobs who deserve to be eternally drenched with finely-aged wolf urine. The Beatles are overrated. Ha ha ha! Yes, the Beatles just accidentally became regarded by billions of dizzy, irrational sheeple as the greatest rock band ever, ever, ever because some weird combination of ungodly events just happened to occur during a one-time-only alignment of the stars and planets right after a freak interdimensional time-space warp and just before a butterfly landed on Ghandi’s ass, and suddenly the Beatles got power-farted out of the sphincter of oblivion and landed in front of Ed Sullivan on live TV one night and everybody went temporarily insane and overrated them. “A Hard Day’s Night”? Overrated. “Revolver”? Overrated. “Sgt. Pepper”? OH…VAH…RAY…TED.

Okay, here’s the deal. Nothing is overrated. If something is popular or well-regarded enough for a bunch of snivelling doofuses to turn up their noses and snort “that’s overrated” at it, then it deserves whatever rating it gets. EVEN IF I HATE IT. That’s right, I’m a big enough person to say that. Because I’m so incredibly great. In fact, I am incredibly F**KING great. If anything, I am totally UNDER-rated.

I know I am underrated because there are people who still actually disagree with me on certain things, when they should be diving headlong into prostrate positions before me and worshipping each and every one of my opinions about everything. Because if my opinions weren’t totally, absolutely, overwhelmingly right–why the hell would I even bother to have them? I’m sure you can see the exquisitely luminous pristine logic of this.

You know what I think really is “overrated”? Whiffle balls. What is a whiffle ball? A hollow plastic ball with holes in it. OMFG, that just drives me nuts. And the sound a whiffle ball makes when you hit it with a bat–sort of a muffled “poonk” sound. GRRRRR!!! This goofy kid next door–his name is Brandon, of course–will be in his backyard batting a whiffle ball around, and there’s this constant “poonk…poonk…poonk…” in the background while I’m trying to concentrate on something important like writing poetry or whacking off. Poonk…poonk…poonk… I just can’t stand it.

There should be a law that says anyone who plays with whiffle balls should have to eat them when they’re done. If I told Brandon to rate his whiffle balls, I guarantee you he’d OVER-rate them, even while armed vigilantes were force-feeding them to him. Forget the Beatles, forget Tarantino, forget CITIZEN farking KANE–the only thing on the face of the earth that is really, truly overrated is whiffle balls. And Bob Dylan. But especially whiffle balls.

Have your say!


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