So I did it. I did something really dirty. I took the advice of an American. Despite my better judgement, that's what I did. That's the logical equivalent of having a stranger shit in my pants on my behalf.
But I relented nonetheless.
I watched Spartacus: Blood and Sand, all 13 gory, carefully waxed episodes of the Sam Raimi produced historical fuck-fest. And holy shit what a ride. How to sum it up? The Yanks took Gladiator to pieces, in fear of it being too heavy and intellectual, hammered it down to its component parts, added a lashing or two of pungent homosexuality, shook it up, and let it loose.
I studied Roman history back in the day. It turns out, thanks to this epic little show, that everything I knew was wrong. Turns out that everybody just walked around naked, rubbed oil into each other's shoulders, brooded dramatically in the shadows, wore leather skirts to show off their massive, hairy, muscular thighs, and fucked each other's armpits.
It wasn't just my knowledge of history that was lacking. My knowledge of anatomy got a kicking too. Did you know that if you whack someone gently on the back with the flat, blunt edge of a sword they will literally explode in a tidal wave of blood? I do now. Thank you American TV for teaching me this. Now I shall be more careful in life, wrapped forever in the fearful knowledge that if I ever stub my toe I risk exploding like a retarded suicide victim leaping off the Empire State.
There was also that cowardly chap from The Mummy in it too. And he did some rather good acting. Not that anybody noticed. Because he was surrounded by massive, shiny men beating each other to death with their
wooden blades. They may as well have cast Gary fucking Coleman.
I loved it. I really did. It turns out the inmates have not only escaped, but are running the asylum. It's as if Lost confused too many people, causing a Poll Pott style uproar in which all the smart people were culled, leaving nothing but a trail of ADD-ridden miscreants to run the show. These misfits then did what we all, deep-down, love best - they turned up the volume to 11, killed everything in sight (twice) and paid all the actors extra to yell the word "cunt" at random intervals, for no apparent reason.
I was very pleased with this show - for the above, and for two additional reasons:
1.) I learned a new phrase by watching this show. At some point in this series a conversation takes place that actually allows the actor to say "you'll survive, but you'll be uglier than a whore's gash". "Uglier than a whore's gash" is officially the greatest thing I've ever heard. I laughed so hard at that my friends thought I was having a stroke. I hear season 2 has a whole episode dedicated to one of the gladiators farting, and the rest of them pointing and laughing about it for a whole hour. Magic.
2.) This show is a metaphor of all that we know and love of America. They took the most culturally advanced race in the history of all mankind, stripped it down of all intelligable merit, and pumped it to the gills with tits, blood, inappropriate heavy metal soundtracks and such homo-eroticism that the whole Gay section of extremetube.com has been instantly rendered obsolete.
In years to come, future generations will wonder as to the cultural impact of America upon the world. They need but see Spartacus: Blood and Sand. Just like anything American, it has all the subtlety of a large nuclear war.
Oh, and that bitch from Zena gets her tits out a lot too.
And she has really, really big nipples.
Hamlin Grade: 10