And Fort Knox is ever so important, for it is gold that Terl desires, and he is expecting Goodboy and the lads to be knee-deep in prospectoring retrogression as they mine for the raw gold. But that ever so wise Goodboy knows about the old depository, and so rejects deep knees in favour of simply filching the contents of bullion from there. Not only does Terl not suspect foul play, but he is even impressed at their melting the gold into bars for him. What a selfless race we are, this film has me toppling over with pride at mankind, old chap.

With comic-book-stylings, Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000 dynamically skirts from one shot to another, jumping spasmodically like the very brisk legs of Jonnie Goodboy himself. Rarely does he cease his continual marathon. A few minutes here and there is all he needs. Down under the man-zoo? Why not go for a run. A grassy cliff? I see a jog on that ridge. A glass-covered enclave? There’s a gallop being asked for there. A blue, slanty corridor? Bustle like you always wanted to, Jonnie. The streets of Siam? Well, maybe not.

His swift movements persist throughout, the only exception being where he is in the Knowledge Machine. This apparatus functions as unambiguously as its name suggests. The subject sits in the machine and is bludgeoned with knowledge; that is, knowledge in the form of a stream of sparkly graphics into the forehead. And what a marvellous plot device is it, one need not ask the question of how a character is to learn how to topple the vile oppressors when a Knowledge Machine is close at hand. If only The Sacrifice had a Knowledge Machine, or perhaps they could have had one in the back of the carriage in La Strada.

I hope you too have experienced, have been touched intimately, by the prodigiousness of Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000. Following the screening with my new friend, he was overcome with emotion and tried to come on to me repeatedly. You’ll be happy to know that not once did I let him touch me in my nethers. Although, I was also engulfed in the strange aura of joy and humanity, and spent the rest of the night hugging the pinball machine in the foyer, shouting at it to give me knowledge.

Best regards,

Aaron

The Duke De Mondo Writes To Aaron Fleming

Dear Aaron,

I must thank you with all of the pith in my puff-pipes for the letter done swole afore my eyeballs two evenings past, that piece of intoxicating correspondence wherein you spoke most eloquently and with much hurrah regarding Battlefield Earth: A Saga Of The Year 3000. I assure you, my friend, that scarcely a solitary bugger shy of Nicollo Tartaglia his holy self could calculate with any degree of accuracy the intensity of the glee said screed done cast hither and thither about my head-guts.