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Sometimes your sense of humor seems more impenetrably advanced than your robotics. I'll never understand this tapestry of irony you weave. Maybe I'm just stuck in the dark ages of pranksterism with my funny mustaches corny old joke book. Yes, you are. But that's fine. We come from different traditions. Someone needs to keep that racist southern asshole's legacy alive. There's dignity in taking up the work of our familial predecessors, even if what they did was insanely fucking stupid. Is that a note of bitterness directed at your superstar brother I am detecting? No way. He's awesome. I've told you, I don't begrudge any of his success. I've also told you he isn't my real bro even though I call him that. We're related through an esoteric process of genetic reamalgamation. Oh lordy. Yes, yes, I know. I don't need another ironic lesson in science fiction! Alright. My lessons are rad as fuck, but suit yourself. The point is, obviously his satirical methods have flaws, and whatever tempered brand of hero worship I might be practicing isn't keeping me from seeing that. Flaws?? Talk about understatement. Those movies are unwatchable. Unless your name is Jake English. Yes, spectacularly so. But they will have profound historical significance. Mark my words. And flaws aside, it's a legacy I'm proud to inherit. My duty isn't to appropriate his methods with absolute loyalty, but to apply reason and improve upon them. To leave my own mark. To perfect the art of irony. It's just like what you're doing with the work of your ancestor. You are striving to perfect his hokey vaudeville bullshit, or something. You seek the Zen of a pie to the face. The Tao of falling the fuck down. Ermm... If you say so! I dunno. Call me a simpleton, but I just like funny jokes. Can't fool me. You take your shit as serious as I do. And if I wasn't serious about it, I wouldn't have made you that rabbit. Then where the hell would you be?
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