Author Archive | Mark A. Rayner

Classics of Literature – Dune

cover art for 70s edition of DuneDune is an epic science fiction tale about religion, inter-stellar politics, and the awesomeness of riding around on giant worms that crap out the greatest drug ever.*

The drug in question is called melange, or spice; in addition to extending lifespan, spice allows human beings to see into the future and travel between stars, thus always being able to find a source of Cheetos. Unfortunately, the spice can only be found and mined on the desert planet, Arakis.

Enter Paul Atreides, heir-apparent of the noble family that has just been given control over the planet by the interstellar emperor. In addition to having kick-ass mentors, Paul has a mother who is an ex-supernun (of the order Bene Gesserit). His father, despite being an interstellar Duke, and a fascist, is kind of cool. Oh, and Paul may be the messiah, because he was in utero when his mother was all tripped out on the prescience-inducing melange.

But he may not live long enough to fulfill this destiny, because the House Harkonnen doesn’t really want to give up the lucrative planet to his father. The head of the Harkonnen clan is Vladimir, who has an apocalyptic eating disorder. He requires anti-gravity devices to move and he is so depraved, he actually enjoys having his disturbed human-computer (mentat) lance his numerous boils. He also lusts after his nephew, 1980s Sting; to be fair, Sting likes to dress in a leather breechclout kind of thing, so if you swing that way … well, ring-a-ding. So yeah, the Harkonnens are bad. Obscene. Naturally, they try to have the Atreides killed.

Luckily, Paul manages to escape death (unlike his dad) and he is rescued by the desert-dwelling Freemen. They are basically a mix of Jihadis, Zen masters, and seriously kickass ninjas who wear rubber suits. They teach Paul how to drink his own piss and ride around on giant worms. But not in a gay way.

Worst of all, the Harkonnens have a stranglehold on the Cheetos shipments to Arakis. (How else to you think Vladimir got all his boils?) It is up to Paul, or Muad’Dib, as he is known to the ultra-butch Freemen, to avenge his father’s death, and free all the Freemen (and Cheetos) on the planet.

*Actually, it’s the larval stage of the giant sandworms that crap out the spice.

Does your robot rule, so to speak?

Does your robot ruleHyper-Clones everywhere may be asking themselves, “sure I have a robot, but is it lethally well-endowed?”

Now you no longer have to worry about the embarrassment of a neuter robot filled with compassion or, God forbid, a total lack of equipment. Here at Por-No! Industries (A Division of Metro-Phallus), we have been working on the age-old problem of wankerless robotry for more than four hundred years, and we have finally developed the ultimate in death-dealing, tally-whackered self-directed automata: The Penetrator 15000.

Unlike the notoriously unstable Bio-Terminatron line of cyborgs, The Penetrator 15000 contains no biological or genetic components and has no vestige of human compassion. Not even the free-roaming CEOs of the NaziWorks home planet can make such a claim! And they are made of poly-impermeable chromindium steel, so they’re easy to clean afterward.

Warning: may permanently damage any unattended Pleasure Borgs. Not suitable for children, households with goats (an unresolved programming issue) and planetoids inhabited by paying customers.

Alltop is also made of poly-mpermeable chromindium steel — and funny. Originally published in 2007.

From Toulouse Le Grandfig in the Land of the Future | photo by Telstar

Truculent Guitar Blastocyte

nuns from the futureSister Mary Xtron the Destroyer and her accompanist, Sister Mary Catherine Crudlik-Pamby (of the Space Ship BingePowder) will be in the Trans-Vatican this week for a limited engagement, entertaining His Hyper-Holiness, The Trans-Dimensional RoboPope, Lexnor Innocent III, and his Death Cardinals of Extreme Planetary Retribution.

They will be playing a selection of Sonic Penance Dirges from their latest Excruciation Album, in addition to some of their greatest hits such as “Sunday Universal Rosary Headcrushings Coming Down” and “Me and Bleemfrat McGee.”

After the concert, cake and laser scourgings will be served!

Alltop likes a good laser scourging. Originally published in 2007.

From Toulouse Le Grandfig in the Land of the Future.

Little Cindi Cyborg

Little Cindi CyborgThe best part about the Little Cindi Cyborg doll was that it was a great way to teach kids responsibility.

Not only was each Little Cindi Cyborg semi-sentient, she was outfitted with a hyper-plasma retainer and an ocular implant that allowed her to see into the infrared and ultraviolet spectra — this was especially helpful when playing “hide-and-seek” or hiding from the gigantic and ravenous CEOs that roam most planets of the Liquid Fermentation Galaxy.

On the down side, if your kids don’t feed her enough nutrient compound, then the Little Cindi Cyborg doll will become sluggish and whiny — right before she explodes in a hail of platinum implants and gobbets of Clonerrific(TM) flesh.

But once the lesson has been learned, the children might be ready for a puppy.

Alltop can’t keep a goldfish alive. Originally published in 2007.

From Toulouse Le Grandfig in the Land of the Future | Genius photo by Bistrosavage

Classics of Literature: The Fellowship of the Ring

cover of the fellowship of the ringNot to be confused with the movie, the book version of The Fellowship of the Ring includes several scenes with the mysterious, and quite possibly brain damaged, Tom Bombadil.

On the positive side, Tom saves the hapless hobbits twice: first from Old Man Willow, an ancient and malevolent tree that lives on a toxic mix of Highballs and lost Halflings; and then, from a number of barrow-wights, evil soul-sucking undead creatures, not to be confused with Barry Wights, who are excellent, soulful (and unfortunately regular dead) singers of sexy songs.

Speaking of song, Tom spends much of his time in a whimsical and poetic dreamscape of his own construction, singing as he passes blithely through the Old Wood. Tolkien tells us that he dresses in yellow boots and a blue jacket, leaving one to wonder if the author just forgot to mention if Tom was wearing pants, or if he is simply glossing over the lack of pants. I suspect that latter, because he does tell us that Tom has a long brown beard, bright blue eyes, and an extremely red face.

Red face? Is Tolkien suggesting Tom is an alcoholic? It’s hard to say. He acts kind of inebriated, given his propensity to speak in the bizarre poetry of a metre that is at best unconventional, and at worst, deranged. He also likes to talk about himself in the third person. This does not seem to annoy his wife, Goldberry. (Who may or may not be the spirit of the river Withywindle, but who is definitely some kind of saint for putting up with this narcissistic and enigmatic half-wit.)

Bombadil is totally unaffected by the Ring, and he demonstrates this by doing a little sleight-of-hand, taking the ring from Frodo, and making it disappear in the air. (I suspect he palms it, but again, Tolkien does not tell us directly.) The One Ring doesn’t make him invisible, and he doesn’t seem to be influenced by Sauron through it.

So why don’t they just keep the ring hidden with Tom? It would have saved Frodo a painful stab-wound, massive existential angst, and having to endure Sam’s repeated attempts at innuendo, by suggesting that he could really go for a nice bit of “cony stew.”

Apart from the fact, that, hey, no trilogy, Gandalf suggests that because Tom is unaffected by the ring, he would probably not consider it important enough to protect. That’s a nice way of saying he’s a flighty (possibly pantsless) wanker.

Alltop is the best pantsless humor aggregator on the web.

Time Travel Sucks

Nothing worse than the hoseIf you asked him, Bertie could never really tell you what he disliked most about time travel.

Obviously, having to arrive in each new era stark naked was not the most pleasant experience. It usually meant having at least a few embarrassing moments (though it could occasionally have its upsides, such as the time he dimensionally slipped into that alternate reality where women had the same psychosexual visual response to nudity the way that men did in his reality . . .)

He was bothered that he could not change anything. He’d taken Causality 101 in college, and was fully conversant with the Heisenberg-Lurie equations relating to the Novikov self-consistency principle. He’d even tested this idea by trying to kill Hitler. (Every first-year time traveler tries to kill Hitler at least a couple of times.) Yes, not being able to alter history bothered him.

Then there was the HOSE. He hated the HOSE.

Alltop considers itself a hoser. Thanks to Whatsthatpicture for the historical snap. Originally published in 2007.