One day, about 50 years ago, a young lad was given a bike. “Make sure you look after this bike, son,” said his father, “it’s the embodiment of all my love for you.” With wide eyes and hopeful heart, the boy nodded earnestly, eager to validate his father’s love.
It was then, with flaming eyes and spittle-ridden manic rage, that his father tore the bike apart – claws and teeth – laughing maniacally all the time. “This,” he bellowed at the shell- shocked snivelling child, “this is what love is really worth!”
The child in question is, of course, the harbinger of the apocalypse himself, film director Roland Emmerich. While the story above is false (maybe), its sentiment is true: for whatever reason, Roland Emmerich feels no love (except for dogs) and has spent his entire life trying to unequivocally murder all that has ever had the audacity to live.
Starting with Independence Day and moving on to merry ventures such as The Day After Tomorrow and 2012, Emmerich’s career has been one thundering attack against humanity, an escalating tirade against all that us pathetic humans hold dear. Having first destroyed New York (and again with Godzilla) and then the entire world – twice – the only direction is up for Emmerich. Literally. His next target is obviously a sun/solar-system based cataclysm.
So what do we say then, in this year of the definitely definite Mayan apocalypse, about this relentlessly violent man? We praise him. For what is Emmerich if not an embodiment of the can-do attitude so paramount to the democratic idealism of the Western world he so desperately wants to condemn to eternal hellfire?
You heard it here first kids, Emmerich is assuredly a man destined to the same bated breath reserved for the likes of Ghandi, Mother Theresa, Jesus, Alan Sugar, Barack Obama and Martin Luther King Jr. Emmerich too had a dream and believed.