John Connor
IN THE FUTURE OF AUGUST 29, 1997...
WELL, JULY 24, 2004;
SHIT, WHEN IS JUDGMENT DAY?
WHAT YEAR ARE WE IN?
2011 ALREADY?
FUCK'S SAKE.
ANYWAY, IN THE FUTURE, A RACE OF SENTIENT MACHINES HOLDS A WAR AGAINST HUMANITY.
AFTER YEARS OF STRUGGLE AND STUFF, THE RESISTANCE ULTIMATELY TAKES VICTORY.
BUT DESPITE HOW FAR HUMANITY AND NON-CLICHED SCREENWRITING HAS COME,
IT COULD NOT HAVE BEEN WON WITHOUT ONE MAN.
JOHN CONNOR.
HIS UNDEFINABLE PERSONALITY AND CONTRADICTORY SPIRIT PAVED THE WAY FOR SURVIVAL.
HIS NAME IS JOHN CONNOR.
CRAP, I ALREADY SAID THAT.
(Duh-duh duh duh-duh!)
The Terminator
Terminator 2:Judgment Day
Hey man. You wanna know about my life. It's pretty knarly. So like, my mom told me I was gonna be GI Joe from the future or something, and she showed me how to blow things up. Then she got caught trying to blow up Apple or some shit and got thrown into a wackjob hospital. So then I got stuck with these foster parents who kept trying to make me clean my room. Dicks. So then me and my buddy were at the mall when this fucking Fed tried to bust me for playing arcade games with stolen money. Then this like big gay guy with sunglasses came out of nowhere and starting tearing the place up. Then it turns out he's like a robot from the future. Cool, right? And he says that Judgment Day is coming soon. I asked him to remind me what the hell Judgment Day was, but because he's got UK English as his primary language, he acted like a total dickweed and was like "it's spelled Judgement Day! With an 'E', you little gurlyman!" Douchebag.
So I used my new pet robot to break my mom out of psychward and it was all cool. Well, I think she went crazy again and tried to kill this black guy, but it turned out okay. Oh, but we had to melt the robot because he was out of warranty, and he'd cost more to repair than buy a new one, or some shit. That was the story of my childhood. So, er, you wanna smoke a bowl?
Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines
What? My names not John Connor! You must have me mistaken for someone else. I've never even heard of a time-travelling cybernetic organism before. Please don't hurt me, man! I don't wanna be the saviour of humanity! Please, I'll disappear even more! Oh, you mean you're not here to kill me? That's a relief to hear. Well, after the set date for Judgment Day passed by, I decided to stop being a juvenile delinquent and straighten up. I lived off the grid though, just in case the machines came back and somehow tracked me down through my credit card details or internet log history. But even after that, one still came back. Well, two of them again. Oh, man. It totally sucked. I hate my life. Why do I have to be the leader of the human resistance in the future? It's not fair.
Everyone's really mean to me. The cops, the hobos, the androids. And why do people keep calling me a wimp? If they had my problems, they'd be upset too! Like when this dominatrix terminator kept trying kill me with her plasma gun, and I hid behind the T-1000. Or when we were surrounded by the police, and I was just shielding myself in a closed casket, and the Terminator hit me and told me to stop crying. Even my future wife, Kate, told me to stop acting like a little bitch when I curled up into a protective ball so there would be less targeting area for the hoverbot to hit. Skank is crazy. She went nuts on that thing. Remind me to hide her AK when she's sleeping.
Eventually, we made it to this secret nuclear bomb shelter and hid from the blast. I had to close the door behind the Terminator, but I don't think he minded too much. I think...
Terminator Salvation
*Ridiculously deep growl* This is John Connor. Since the machines took over, I became incredibly depressed. My wife complained that I was boring, had no personality left anymore, and that I'd been watching too many dumb Eighties action flicks. I got shot once or twice, because my own squad sometimes couldn't tell the difference between me and the terminators. Idiots. Everyone hated me. When I started my own radio show, my commander called me a pretentious douchebag with a Jesus complex, and if I wanted to get any better, I needed to stop growling like some kind of macho freak, and stop repeating "This is John Connor".
I was seriously close to killing myself. I'd take on suicidally stupid missions, usually ending in my team getting killed (although I feel this did a lot to improve my leadership skills). Once I even tried entering a submarine by jumping into the sea and swimming 150ft below to open the door. I was willing to try anything. Then I met Marcus. At first I didn't like him because he was half-machine and I'm racist, even though two separate ones had saved my life on countless occasions. But in a small space of time, with minimal dialogue or character exposition, I knew he was my bro for life. I felt like I could connect to him, mostly because he was just as generic, boring and two-dimensional as myself. I almost cried frowned blinked when he sacrificed his life for mine. And then I sacrificed mine to bring him back. Who then sacrificed his life again to bring me back. True 'bromance'. And now all I've got is my father, who because of the intricacies of time travel, has barely started puberty. This is John Connor. I hate my life.
So continues the saga of John Connor...
TO A DELINQUENT STONER
TO A WHINY LITTLE BITCH
TO A GENERIC ACTION HERO
IT IS CLEAR TO SEE
THAT WITH HIS TRADEMARK SCHIZOPHRENIA
JOHN CONNOR WILL CONTINUE TO LEAD HUMANITY IN THE STRUGGLE AGAINST THE MACHINES...
FOR ANOTHER TWO FILMS.
GOD HELP US.
(Duh-duh duh duh-duh!)
(Duh-duh duh duh-duh!)
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The Article Whisperer-Winning Article |
This article was chosen as the Best Popular Culture-related Article in the 2010 The Article Whisperer writing competition.
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