there’s a lot going on in this video but it works. it looks like the minion has returned but has undergone some type of transformation. as if he’s gained super powers or something. it’s kinda like when peter parker is just regular peter parker, but then he gets bitten by the spider and gets superpowers and just looks cooler in general. i can dig it. the minion is sporting some serious horns in this video too. has he turned into some sort of demon? maybe he’s tired of being a minion and wants to start getting into some ratchet shit by taking over the world. that seems like it could be a very real possibility. there are lots of colors surrounding our newly evolved demon man. lots of bright colors. all of this works great with the ‘minion evolving into satan’ motif. just realized this is probably rainbow satan. or at least it could be rainbow satan. is this how theron sees himself? maybe this is a caricature for how he sees himself. like when he gets really wasted, this is how he imagines people perceive him. makes you think. very impressive camera work and imaging. dig the artsy effects. B+
things are getting serious now. we see the man, the myth, the legend: theron jacobs, in the flesh. peep theron’s poetic swag. how he gets straight to the point without being boring. 90% of humans reading poetry are boring to the point of it being a crime. theron is just laid back on his poetic steez. this is a hard thing to accomplish. now let’s get to what theron is trying to say. apparently dogs stole his mom. that shit is bumming me out. dogs need to stop taking other people’s property. this is a big problem we have in america and it needs to be addressed. on a lighter note, this poem is pretty good. we learn that theron’s mom was stolen by wild dogs. she sent him a letter from wild dog kingdom and told him she actually enjoys this kingdom and has no my time for frivolous things such as love. oh yea, she’s also a wild dog now. i don’t know if she actually enjoys this canine kingdom or if she’s experiencing an extreme case of stockholm syndrome. the poem ended with a ‘see ya’, so i guess we’ll never know why this mother abandoned her prodigy of a son. whatever, all praise goes to rainbow satan and his ability to deliver interestingly absurd poetry on camera like a champ. A+
keep your eyes open for future TPHD reviews. only TPHD material will be reviewed due to the fact that all other videos on youtube are lame as hell
HOW TO FIND A WAY OUT OF A BOOBY TRAP (HOLE IN THE GROUND)? DOES ONE DIG DEEPER DOWN, IN THE HOPES OF REACHING CHINA, ALL THE WAY THROUGH EARTH? OR SHOULD ONE TRY TO CLIMB OUT? I DO NOT KNOW, THIS SEEMS AWFULLY DEEP, AND I AM NOT SURE I CAN CLIMB UP IT ALL THE WAY. YOUR HELP IN THIS MATTER WOULD BE GREATLY APPRECIATED.
GOATS DON’T EXIST IN THE DARK. GO AHEAD, TEST IT. FLICK OFF THE LIGHTS AND OBSERVE YOUR VANISHED GOAT. FLICK EM ON AND WATCH ASTONISHED AS YOUR GOAT GOES ABOUT DOING GOAT THINGS, ACTING EXACTLY AS IF HE’D NO IDEA HE WAS IN THE VOID ONLY A MOMENT AGO.
THEN WHAT HAPPENS AT SUNSET YOU ASK? (AND HERE WE’LL OVERLOOK THE SMUGNESS OF YOUR SMILE)
LIKE ALL LIFEFORMS, I SEEK TO PERPETUATE MYSELF BUT I DO NOT WISH TO SPAWN IN THE TRADITIONAL FASHION, I WISH TO ASEXUALLY REPRODUCE BUT VERY RAPIDLY UNTIL I’VE CLOGGED UP ALL THE CITIES, THEIR DRAINS AND STREETS AND OFFICE BUILDINGS, UNTIL WILD TPHD’S CAN BE SEEN FROM SPACE CLUTTERING UP THE OCEAN’S SURFACE, SPILLING OVER THE GREAT WALL IN WAVES OF LIMBS AND BAD HAIR CUTS
I WANT TO BE LIKE A WILDFIRE OF MITOSIS, A REPRODUCTIVE PLAGUE
LIKE ALL LIFEFORMS, I SEEK TO PERPETUATE MYSELF BUT I DO NOT WISH TO SPAWN, I WISH TO LIVE FOREVER AND EVER UNTIL IM THE LAST THING AND IM FLOATING IN THE BLACK, ALONE, THINKING OF TWEETS AND EMAILING THEM TO MYSELF
“I have no problem thinking of tweets as poetry, because the really great ones function in the same way that poetry does to me. They are clear and cubic thinking, and they repay obsessive thinking-about. 140 characters is just about the right length to get inside your head, so if I walk around all day chanting “apnews: an girl go back in time to shhot cow that start gret chicago fire . cow say “i expect you” shoot her an start fire with i’ts cigaret” to myself the same way I walk around chanting “The milkman came in the moonlight and the moonlight was less than moonlight,” I see no reason to make a distinction, because I’m not some sort of taxonomy psycho.”—Patricia Lockwood (via blancateli)
PLEASE TAKE THIS STONE—
NO, THIS ONE. THE SMALL ONE
PLEASE TAKE THIS STONE AS FAR FROM ME AS POSSIBLE
AND BURY IT.
PLEASE BURY IT DEEPLY
IMAGINE YOU ARE TRYING TO FORGET IT.
TRY TO FORGET IT.
PLEASE USE YOUR HANDS.
IT IS IMPORTANT TO USE YOUR HANDS.
AND WHEN YOU ARE FINISHED USING YOUR HANDS AND
WHEN THIS NEW GRAVE HAS BEEN ACHIEVED AND THIS ROCK
FORGOTTEN FOREVER, JUST AS YOU ARE WIPING THE FINAL FRAGMENTS
OF EARTH FROM YOUR WEARY HANDS AND SMILING WHILE CONSIDERING
YOUR GOOD WORK OR LOOKING WITH SATISFACTION INTO THE
DISTANCE, CONSIDERING WHAT YOU MIGHT DO NEXT (A DRINK IN TOWN
MAYBE? OR ELSE A NAP PERHAPS)
PLEASE STOP DOING THOSE THINGS AND DIG UP THE STONE
AND BRING IT BACK TO ME.
THIS IS YOUR ASSIGNMENT.
THIS IS YOUR TASK.
PLEASE DO NOT DELAY IN THE SATISFACTION OF YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES.
MANAGEMENT THANKS YOU FOR YOUR LABORS.