Brendan Hansen Is: Dead Behind The Eyes, From Havertown And Kind Of A Choker
Do you remember that episode of The Real World from a few seasons back where the seven strangers, like, had to take some retards to the zoo or something and that one girl, when presented with her ‘tard, ran away screaming as if the lil’ guy was going to claw at her flesh and tear her appendages off? This is no doubt the kind of reaction I would have if, say, I ever found myself across the room from U.S. Olympic Team swimmer/Havertown native Brendan Hansen. Staring at him on my TV screen over the weekend, secretly hoping that for once, French shit-talk may be prophecy and not fantasy, I realized that through no obvious fault of his own, here is an imposing, ultra-futuristic being whose very visage strikes several of my core fear nodules:
· Being beaten to death by a robot
· Trying to scratch my way out of the robot’s grip, only to be further shocked that he bleeds mercury, which then poisons his attackers
· And a generalized feel of human/alien hybrid beings I’ve had ever since I took that UFO class at Temple back in the day
All of this, of course, I know because I see it in Brendan Hansen’s eyes. Nevertheless, the media continues its relentless ploy to anthropomorphize Hansen. Just read this and tell me that you don’t start to wonder if Hansen is, all the way around the world, a latent carrier of the Philly Choke gene? I can’t even think about that: Only HUMANS can carry the gene! Yet still, I want to love: Even though I’m certain he would destroy me, I’m just like everybody else in that, well, nobody really wants robots to lose. Otherwise, what is the point in building them?
