Thoughts Upon Watching Prometheus
A: Well, wouldn't you, if your entire species were fucktards? Clearly he's killing himself in a fit of pique at the WTF Quotient of his own species. They're fucktards.
Q: What do you mean? They're smart. They can engineer a black goo that somehow tears DNA apart and simultaneously programs it so that billions of years of evolution from the seeded material will result in mini-mes.
A: Exactly. Anyone else might go for a less sedentary terraforming process, and just fricking clone the mini-mes, for fuck's sake. Not these fucktards. I imagine that Engineer muttering, "Dude, you know this is going to take billions of years before we see any results. Billions. We could do this so much faster." But clearly he's out-voted by the rest. Who are fucktards.
Q: Well, you say billions of years, but... um...
A: You're not going to tell me the pretty rockworld will turn into a human-populated Earth in a shorter timescale, are you? Go read a fucking book. As that Engineer probably said to his comrades.
Q: But they're a super-advanced species! When they return *cough* years later they're like gods to us... like Erich Von Danikenesque alien-astronaut-astic space-gods!
A: Yup. Fucktardery and arsewipery go hand in hand. Come on. If you need a host of mini-mes to tell you how awesome you are, it's pretty strong evidence that you're not awesome at all, just an egotistical wank, a prime form of fucktard. Again, you've got to imagine that Engineer watching his fucktard brethren play deities and devotees, shaking his head at their fucktarded desire to be revered by lapdog versions of themselves.
Q: And when they decide to kill the mini-mes off...?
A: If your billion year long project is such a flop you decide to just wipe it out and start over... sounds like a pretty big fuck-up to me. They can't even do it right. They wipe themselves out in the process of trying to terminate a project they've invested billions of years in. For no apparent reason. Fucktards.
Q: Maybe they had a good reason. This is meant to happen two thousand years ago, right? I hear Scott has hinted that they got miffed over the crucifixion of Jesus. Cause Jesus was sent from space, one of them. And OK, that's a bit fucktarded but it fits with all the cross-waving. Maybe they decided to exterminate us because we killed the Space Jesus they sent to teach us... um... peace and love?
A: Like that was a good plan? I can just imagine that Engineer shouting at them: "We just spent all of prehistory playing god-kings, establishing mythologies of heavenly imperialist pantheons ruled by might all across the world. What the fuck did you think they were going to do to an anarcho-socialist pacifist? And now, for that one action, you want to exterminate every motherfucking one of them with xenomorphic rapedeath? In punishment for their empathy deficiency? Seriously? For the love of cock!"
Q: And when they leave the mini-mes an invite to... ?
A: To the lifeless planet where they're stockpiling the liquid frickin death they've decided to dish out on humanity -- I'd say that's pretty fucktarded, wouldn't you? Prometheus is supposed to have stolen fire from the gods and given it to humanity. This is more like God leaving every fucking culture on earth a signpost to the vials of wrath he intends to pour out on them come Judgement Day. Vials of wrath that he's just as vulnerable to as them.
Q: But wait! All the Von Daniken stuff hasn't happened yet, not at the very start. If the first scene is Earth being seeded, then clearly they haven't given humanity the signposts to LV-223 or randomly decided to kill us all with liquid death, not yet. Surely the Engineer is committing suicide long before any of this has happened!
A: Actually, there's no reason to suppose the pretty rockworld at the start is Earth. Scott himself said it might not be. So you could as easily imagine that this is another planet, and the Engineer who offs himself at the start could well be one of those tasked with making sure the humans had the map. Me, I imagine him reaching breaking point with his species over that very fact: "Really? We're giving them the map to LV-223. Why? Why are we pointing the mini-mes at the liquid frickin death? Seriously, guys. I mean, generally speaking, munitions dumps are kept secret from those they're going to be used against."
Q: Maybe when they left the signposts they just didn't think they'd ever have to use the liquid death on humanity?
A: This is a species which creates liquid frickin death in order to exterminate all humanity in a genocide beyond even the Nazis' most grandiose dreams. Humanity is genetically identical, the Engineers' mini-mes. You've heard the saying about the apple falling not far from the tree, right? Why the fuck they'd be shocked at humanity being a tad murderous is beyond me, but clearly this is a notion as far beyond the Engineers' capacities as empathy. As I say... fucktards.
Q: Are you sure they didn't consider the possibility of humans being a threat? It might explain why the signposts don't point to their homeworld.
A: True. Looks like someone among them did realise there's every likelihood the mini-mes will turn out as dangerously fucktarded as their creators, and so talked his comrades out of directing the min-mes to the homeworld. Three guesses who. Can't you just imagine that one intelligent Engineer breathing a sigh of relief when his bosses agree not to leave signposts pointing to the homeworld... and then facepalming when they breezily tell him where the signposts will point instead? "Really? That's your alternative? Just in case they turn out dangerous, you're going to invite them to the planet of liquid frickin death instead of the homeworld. Fucktards. I'm surrounded by fucktards."
Q: But what if LV-223 was originally just where we were meant to meet them, nothing more? What if they only sent the stockpiles of liquid death there after they'd decided to exterminate us? Or developed them there, or whatever?
A: Cause setting up your munitions dump / top secret bioweaponry facility in the one place that your would-be exterminees know to come looking for you... that's so much less fucktarded. For cock's sake, the Engineers couldn't be more fucktarded if they put their WMD R&D facility on a spaceship programmed to return to their homeworld on a collision course in the event of an emergency. And what kind of a cretin would do that?
Q: But you're assuming it's just liquid death plain and simple. Sure, it tends to result in undead penis snakes, thrashing squid babies, and ultimately a gangly teen-gimp xenomorph, but what it does to the Engineer at the start... maybe it's just some sort of terraforming malarky cum evolution accelerant that... goes a bit wrong. Do we know that it's really meant to be a WMD?
A: Well, if it's not a WMD, that would make Idris Elba and the two crew members look pretty fucktarded when they crash the Prometheus into the Engineer ship in an entirely unnecessary attempt to save Earth from the liquid frickin death. It would make Shaw look pretty fucktarded for believing the killer android when he tells her that's where the Engineer ship is headed to unleash the liquid frickin death. Actually, I suppose it is quite possible the whole spectacular finale is just the last few survivors of this crackpot mission financed by a dying crank being talked into killing themselves pointlessly by a faith-addled pseudo-scientist on the word of a killer robot. The defrosted Engineer could have other plans entirely. The robot could be lying. But...
Q: But you don't think they're that dumb?
A: On the contrary. Idris Elba's fucktarded enough that he doesn't think to direct the two lost scientists back to the ship using the big fucking hologram map he's looking at. And Shaw trusts the killer android after he's poisoned her lover with the liquid frickin death and drugged her to play unwilling womb for a thrashing squid baby; there's no question she's a fucktard. They all are; the fucktardery humans seem to have inherited from the Engineers is evidenced throughout. But given the fact that Earth does pop up straight away in the navigation thingy, and the way the defrosted Engineer tries to kill every human in sight... and, of course, the small fact that the whole place is stocked with liquid frickin death... I'm willing to believe that he is indeed out to exterminate humanity.
Q: Even though it's two thousand years later? And all his comrades are dead?
A: I told you: these people are fucktards. Forget the extinction of his entire team. Forget warning the rest of his species of whatever dread calamity happened on LV-223. Orders are orders. He's got a job to do and he's going to do it. No, the humans may be so fucktarded as to remove helmets in a zone of hideous death, practise the worst archaeology ever, wander off and get lost like ten year olds, play with undead penis snakes, and more, yet more, too much fucktardery to list, but they get it from the Engineers. So yeah, I can totally believe the defrosted Engineer has no other thought in his bald noggin than to complete an obsolete mission of genocide on behalf of his extinct species. That's just how fucktarded they are. And the opening scene makes total sense in that context. You can see the sort of fucktardery the Engineer in the opening scene is dealing with now, right? No fucking wonder he kills himself.
Q: But doesn't Scott say somewhere that it's about him being destroyed to create life -- like in some sorta sacrifice, some sorta spiritual circle of life thing? Like, the Engineers accept death as a natural part of the cycle? Like, they're so big on the whole Promethean theme of self-sacrifice that this is just How They Roll? If they're gonna create life, one of them has to nobly offer himself up to die. Even if they could just use a pig carcass.
A: Self-sacrifice? Yeah, those ghost image recordings look really noble in their acceptance of death as they run away in panic from whatever monstrous fuck up they've unleashed. The bodies piled up outside the door clearly had that whole circle of life thing foremost in their minds as they scrabbled desperately for sanctuary. The Engineer who shut himself up in stasis leaving his comrades to their fate... he's all about the self-sacrifice.
Q: Well, maybe the one at the start isn't like the rest.
A: Then we can hardly paint his suicide as ritual expression of a culture-wide mindset, can we? The rest aren't just genetically human. They display the natural human instinct of self-preservation. As far as their belief system goes, the fact they worship a giant China Miéville head doesn't tell us nearly as much as the fact they run the fuck away from danger.
Q: But hey, at least running away means they're not entirely fucktarded?
A: Well, the fact that only one of them survives speaks volumes. The rest are apparently so fucktarded they just pile up at a closed door that an android can open with a touch, as I recall. They're fucktarded enough it seems they end up royally fucked by one "every man for himself" bastard who's smart enough to lock the door and hide. I'm guessing he's the boss, by the way; only management would be fucktarded enough to rip the head off the person who actually pulls you out of the endless-stasis-with-no-hope-of-rescue shit. Anyway, the point is, their undignified death doesn't exactly project a pacific acceptance of their own death, does it?
Q: But surely that big-ass xenomorph mural suggests there's more to the biogothic decor than just aesthetics.
A: So the biological killing machine is awesome sauce to them. That seems more like they're accepting life as a necessary part of death than vice versa. Seems like they're creating life just for the glorious joy of unleashing liquid death on it. Hey, boys! Let's fill a planet with mini-mes then dump murderous monsters on them! What fun! It'll take a few billion years, but it'll be worth it for the chest-bursting. Stupidity and viciousness -- again, it's a natural combination. And what do you know, they end up extinct because of it. Again, I say the most logical thesis is that the Engineer at the start has just fucking had enough.
Q: But isn't the point that we don't know why they decide to kill us? Like, God moves in mysterious ways and all that.
A: No, authorial fiat moves in mysterious ways. When you can prove to me that your writing is the product of the Hand of God itself, pressing the laptop keys with your fingers, then it'll maybe be a matter of the inscrutable motives of an imaginary uber-deity somehow beyond human understanding and yet absurdly anthropomorphised (if we count mammalian emotions and primate nous as anthropomorphism.) Until then, it's not God defying explanation; it's your wholly human agencies having no rationale because you've decided to have them act without one. And that makes them fucktards. Whether the decision is to make humanity or destroy it, if your answer to "Why?" is "Um... because?" they're not even really acting on caprice; they're acting as brainless pawns in your authorial hands, doing what you need them to simply to further the sequence of events. (I say "sequence of events" rather than plot because it's not fricking plot if it's driven by authorial fiat. Plot is when one event actually, you know, causes another.) We can give them the benefit of the doubt, fill the void where motives and agendas should be with rationales of our own construction, but if you haven't thought it through, if you've deliberately denied thought in order to ape profundity with trite gestures at ineffability... surprise surprise, the most sensible rationale for the agents of your narrative may be that they don't have a fucking clue what they're doing, the fucking fuckwitted fucking fucktards.