04-14-03: Evil Plots of Devil Robots

Ghaleon,
I need assistance. I was thinking of moving to another country, but I can't decide between Japan and Britain. Which do you prefer? Thanks!
--Anon E. Muss

Musskatel,
Indeed a quandry worthy of my great intellect: which of two meaningless tribes of insignificant rats is the superior? I recommend that if you really can't decide, you build a gigantic dragon-powered tank and take over the entire world. Then, instead of worrying about "fitting in" with whatever pitiful fools happen to be nearby, you can force them to do your bidding. The world will be your oyster! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!

Dude,
What is up with your left eye? You have the worst case of pink eye I've ever seen, and I've been practicing for many years.
--Concerned Optometrist in Cleveland

Consternated Octorok,
They say practice makes perfect, but, in your case, it will be a wonderment if you ever get to mediocre. A man of my stature would never bow to an affliction as pedestrian as "pink eye." Besides, I would love to see you or any other so-called optometrist be dead for a thousand years and come out of it with nothing worse than a purple splotch over your left eye. Optometrist. What did you have to do to get that title? Find the four sacred eyeballs that serve the goddess of uselessness? Ha ha ha ha ha! Pathetic.

Hey,
I would just like to know why yer dissin Chrono Cross so much i think its a wonderful game everyone i know says so too. And about the music its so great i made a cd out of it and i got all my friends hooked on it!!!!! so could you e-mail me back to tell me about yer thoughts and why you would think someone crowned you the king of critisism.
--Nikki none yer biz

Nikki-Oh!,
I see the pathetic webmaster of this useless website has taken to forwarding his hate mail to me. How... wonderful of him. Now, in addition to the regular stream of "oh Ghaleon, fix my worthless life," "oh Ghaleon, your hair is so sexy," "oh Ghaleon, I want to be your little fairy," I have to put up with simpering nitwits who don't understand that no one cares what they think. To think that I, I who once ruled this world, should be reduced to having to explain basic concepts like "humour" and "quality" and "shut the hell up, you festering little boil" to every cranky teenager Captain Shoots-his-mouth-off happens to piss off - it makes me sick. But, since this is an advice column, and it is my job to write it, like it or not, I suppose I should offer up some advice. So here it is: shut up. In another thousand years, when you're long dead and I'm probably still hanging around answering this never-ending stream of prattle, no one will so much as remember that you existed. But people will always remember me. Why? Because I am better than you. And because I know how to spell "criticism."

Ghaleon,
I am a killer robot. I was created to destroy things and kill people and bring the world to its knees. I am equipped with devastating weapons and ruthless henchman-robots, not to mention spikes that will kill anybody in one hit. But I'm tired of rampaging and destroying. Lately, I find my thoughts turning to more sophisticated things, like poetry and philisophy. I even entered this philosophy tournament that you may have heard about, but everyone knew right away that I was a killer robot and not a classical philosopher. Is it possible for me to change, Ghaleon? Can my life ever have any more meaning than simply "wait for Megaman and fight him when he arrives?"
--A killer robot who wishes to remain nameless, and is certainly not Bubbleman

Bubblebrain,
You're not fooling anyone. We know it's you. And, speaking for the entire world - which I once ruled, by the way - I feel it is my duty to tell you that no one wants any robot-angst poems. And as for meaning, well... I don't want to hear it. I would give quite a lot for a good, old-fashioned battle to the death with some meddling do-gooder. Meaning? Pah! I answer stupid questions on the internet. Don't talk to me about meaning! You got to beat up Dragonmaster Buddha. The only thing I've done lately besides this column was the Kangaroo Jack movie.

hi,i need to ask u a question
R U INSANE??!!!! NO GOTH POEMS,ANGST POEMS,PRACTICALLY EVERYTHING THATS A PERSON WRITES IN POETRY U HAVE TAKEN IT OUT!IF PEOPLE WANNA EXPRESS THEMSELVES LIKE THAT LET THEM,WHOS READING THE POEMS,ISNT THE FANS OF THE WEBSITE??CHILL OUT AND LOOSEN UR RULES
--George Gabriel

George of the Bungle,
I see I have more forwarded hate mail in my box. Goody goody for me, this one's a real gem. As distasteful as it is to me, I have to agree with that fool Darien about the hideous waste that the internet thinks is poetry. Enjoy writing your appallingly-spelled, all-caps poetry about how deep and brooding you are, mortal, because when my regime comes, the penalty for wasting my bandwidth with such rubbish will be severe. I mean more severe than being called nasty names by a website. Time for some hard facts: no one who would actually type "R U INSANE??!!!!" has anything useful, interesting, or worthwhile to say. So you'll be sent to the mines, plebeian. I've suffered through enough poetry that sums up to "NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME / U R ALL SHITS / PAAAAAAAAAIN." If people want to express themselves like that, yes, I shall let them do so. In the mines. But if they spend too much time "expressing" and too little time "working," well, they'll learn all about PAAAAAAAAAAIN. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

That's about all the prattle I can stomach for now. If you feel that your opinion, question, or childish rant is deserving of my attention, you are sorely mistaken. But, if you must, you can click here to spirit it through the ether to me. I'm even more mystic and insightful than a Ouija board, and at least 30% less likely to consume your soul. But I can't guarantee that I won't send you to work in the mines! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!