And here is the transcript:
"Hi everybody, welcome to Afterburner, I'm Bill Whittle. Well I've been looking forward to the movie Tomorrowland since I first saw the trailer many months ago. You know, I was a young boy at the 1964 World's Fair, and it rewired my brain. I came out dreaming of monorails and jet packs, and frankly, I never got over it. So, imagine my delight when I discovered that the movie opens with a young boy and his jet pack at the 1964 World's Fair. I enjoyed the first three minutes of this movie immensely. The remaining two hours and seven minutes were excruciating. It was oral surgery without anesthesia. Tomorrowland is a message movie, but before I talk about the message, let me briefly talk about the movie. This mess is simply one of the worst acted, worst written, worst directed, and worst designed debacle since, well, since Jupiter Ascending. Another nine digit, leftist catastrophe from earlier this year. Tomorrowland is simply appallingly made. Now, I'd love to tell you about the plot, but there is no discernable plot. Apparently, robots from another dimension are trying to help and kill young Casey Newton because she was given a pin that allowed her to see the alternate dimension, Tomorrowland. And she wants to ride on the interstellar band camp trip along with other genetic perfection teenagers. Basically I think, it comes down to this. We stupid, greedy, ordinary people are bad, because we don't have Tomorrowland pins, but especially because we didn't listen to the smart people who do have pins when they told us that the world was about to end through global nuclear war, and also, global warming, global flooding, global winding, and global fashion failure. Therefore, the smart people with the pins in Tomorrowland have been transmitting a fake signal which is nevertheless true. Sound familiar? About the coming catastrophes in order to get us stupid people without pins to do the sensible thing. Which is of course, to submit to the instructions issued by the smart people with the pins dressed in future clothes, designed by Brazilian transvestites with unresolved Nazi fetishes. But look, there's a point to be made here, and it's the point that super liberals like writer-director Brad Bird and George Clooney are trying to make. It's the point about their point really. First, they can read the future in this movie. How flattering for them. And there's apparently a countdown timer with a big number 55 or something like that, that's when the world is going to end. 100% certainty. In 55 days. Through a series of nuclear explosions that set off global flooding or something like that 55 days from now. So I guess we'd better start listening to the people with the enamel pins right now. They're scientists after all. And when scientists with enamel pins say something, you had better listen or else, you know, as the movie says, you kinda deserve to die. Now for example, when they say that the Arctic will be ice free in summer in 2009, or 2011, or 2014, only to discover that pack ice is not only not disappeared as predicted by the Tomorrowland computers, but it's actually rather increased. Wow.
Some of us without the pins think that there might be a problem with the theory. Turns out, we're just greedy and we want to die, so there's that lesson. But of all of the lessons learned from the subconscious projections on the part of uber-libs Brad Bird and George Clooney, it must be the contrast between the gleaming, magnificence of the actual city, and the dead-eyed, robotic inhabitants of it. Everyone living in Tomorrowland has that same, exotic, dead-eyed, utterly useless look of a runway model in Milan, or those heroin chic, self-haters in a fragrance ad for Vogue or GQ, You know, vain, vacant, unsmiling, lifeless diversity mannequins. The only real people that appear in this movie are right at the very first few minutes, the 1964 citizens of the America whose passing we conservatives lament. You know, friendly, happy, decent, confident people. None of them wearing badges, none of them robotic, none of them dressed like Venetian space palace guards, just normal, average Americans at the height of their powers. Now, somewhere in this mess, we're supposed to feel sorry for the broken windows and mildewed paint of that gleaming city fallen into ruin. Well, I actually did, you know, the actual city was the only character in the movie that I actually liked. So, what killed it? What killed the actual Tomorrowland of Walt Disney? And of the future of the 1964 World's Fair?
Progressives killed it, that's who. The gleaming promise of tomorrow is not built on wind power or recycling, or sullen, brain dead, fashion model citizens with shiny little enameled genius pins. The promise of the future was based on confidence. The confidence of a people who at that time were uniquely free of all politics. Tomorrowland was not a government vision, it was a product of a single man named Walter. With a vision, and the corporation that brought that vision to life. The World's Fair that inspired both me and Brad Bird was a collection of pavilions sponsored by General Motors, IBM, Bell, Westinghouse, and Ford, to name a few. The NASA logo, that features so prominantly on our team protagonist CAT, well, that NASA didn't build a single rocket or a capsule. Those were done by greedy, dollar loving corporations named North American Rockwell, and Grumman, IntelliDyne, and Hughes, Lockheed, and all the rest. Now you see, this is the inescapable irony of this artistic and financial disaster. Liberals like Brad Bird and George Clooney lament the loss of the optimistic future, while demonizing the free market, non-coercive, business dynamos that were going to, you know, actually make it possible. Now at the same time, they worship the big state, big brain elitist politicians who meet in places like Tomorrowland, or the Harvard Law School, and issue pins to those other big brains to enable them to tell the rest of us whatever lies are needed in order to get us to bend a knee.
Gleaming Tomorrowland fell into ruin for the same reason that gleaming Detroit, home of so many of the sponsors of that 1964 World's Fair, fell into ruin. It's the progressive ideology of entitlement, division, and especially the self-hatred that destroys confidence, punishes the successful, and rewards the incompetent.
And that's the final insult of Tomorrowland. It's uttered at the very end, not in a purile, monologue telegraph from Brad Birds keyboard to Hugh Laurie's lips, but rather, in a supposedly upbeat ending. In it, George Clooney issues instructions to his army of dead-eyed, Kafiad, over-moussed, neurotic-looking, heartless children robot recruiters. Telling them to take a new set of magic enamel pins, and discover an entirely new crop of pin-wearing, elitist fascists, to repair and renew the world destroyed by the last crop of pin-wearing, elitist fascists. And as these robot children walk off into the rainforests and the windmill farms of the bright future, your chance of getting into the new Tomorrowland are apparently about zero if you're one of the white males that actually built the real thing. But it's approaching 100% if you're a street style, mixed-race, artist of color, or an aged female Thai rice farmer who also does pottery. If you're one of those you're pretty much in automatically. Now this is the real travesty. The real travesty of the message in Brad Bird and George Clooney's world. Because in their world, you don't find Tomorrowland. Tomorrowland finds you. And if it does, if you're selected, you wake up in a field of presumably gluten-free, Non-GMO wheat, and stare at a beautiful soul-less prison with no suburbs and no slums, because the big brains with the enamel pins have determined, they've determined, not you, not anybody else, and certainly not your merit, who gets to live there, and who gets to die like a dog out in the world of greedy, great, unwashed people who don't appreciate the sacrifices that the smart people have made on their behalf. You know, if Walt Disney had seen this film as a young man, he would've torn up his proposal for Disneyland, and started drinking himself to death, and that's what Tomorrowland makes me want to do right now."
Amen to that, Bill, and thx for saving us from throwing 10 bucks away.