Random Lovable Things

I love it when aliens with giant veiny foreheads come down to tell us how inferior we are and how they’re going to blast us into dust because of their superiority.

I love it when someone spontaneously evolves into a future being with a giant veiny forehead, and then proceeds to threaten humanity with his awesome future intellect.

I love atomic brains from outer space.  Y’know the kind I’m talking about.  They’ve grown beyond the need for a body and just float around, causing all sorts of cosmic mischief.

I love radiation.  Radiation is always sure to be fun.  If it doesn’t kill you, then maybe you’ll get superpowers!  Isn’t that swell?

I love irradiated animals, and their ability to give you superpowers with just a single bite.  If I could order a radioactive grizzly bear through the mail, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I love meteorites from space that bring slime monsters bent on devouring the planet.

I love giant mutant insects.  Giant mutant anything really.

I love (and miss) magical zombies.

I love mole people.  Whatever happened to mole people?  Mole people are awesome.

I love robots.  Little robots.  Big robots.  Good robots.  Evil robots.  Clunky 50’s style robots.  Sleek futuristic robots.  If they can transform into a dinosaur, all the better.  Robots are cool.  Except when they look like people.  Then I only like them.

I love Ogopogo.  Mostly because I love saying Ogopogo.

I loved Mothman before it was cool to love Mothman.

I love barbarian adventurers who regularly face (and defeat) rogue wizards and their demon gods.

I love squid-headed entities from beyond time and space who occasionally slip into this reality just long enough to drive a few people insane.  I don’t know why they do it, but I guess everybody’s gotta have a hobby.

I love ninjas, even if ninjas don’t always love me back.

I love Benjamin Franklin, who, though not technically a science fiction character, sometimes seems like he should be.

I love rocket packs.  Where the hell is my rocket pack?  It’s almost 2010, for cryin’ out loud.

I love ghost hunting reality shows that have nothing at all to do with ghosts and even less to do with reality.  But I love ’em though I can’t give you a good reason other than it’s amusing to watch people get so excited about electromagnetic fields and garbled audio recordings.   Oh, and if a door should happen to shut without anyone touching it…well, that’s a party.

And I love Chupacabra.

These are just some of the things I love, and I’m awfully damned grateful that, even if none of these things are real, I get to pretend like they are and even get paid to do it.

By the way, I know that Benjamin Franklin was a real person.  Mothman possibly too.  They might even be the same person.  Think about it.  Have you ever seen them in the same room?  Far fetched?  Maybe not since there is compelling evidence that John Hancock was actually the Jersey Devil.

Oh, and I love the Jersey Devil.