The Life of Sylvester Stallone

 
 
 

From: The Life of Sylvester Stallone

In university I took a lot of classes that focused on studying written histories of (mostly Western) human existence. Lots of ancient Greece, ancient Rome, some medieval Europe. One thing I always wondered was whether we were getting the right information – in our recorded histories, our preserved documents and artifices that comprise our understanding of whole chapters in human history, are there any areas where by some stroke of bad luck we ended up with some real wack information? Was there some sort of maverick historian who made up story after story to appease the gods of chaos?  

Or, following that thought: in, say, five-thousand years from now what information will remain from our present-day culture? And will it be an accurate representation, or will there be some sort of weird future clerical error that leads all of future-humanity to think the most critically acclaimed artist of our generation was, like, Ted Nugent or something. Gene Simmons. Tommy Wiseau. Michael Bay. There, that’s it. Nailed it. In the future they will think we all loved Michael Bay movies in the 21st century to the point of insanity and you KNOW WHAT THEY ARE RIGHT OH GOD IT WAS OUR PLANET THEY BLEW IT UP YOU MANIACS DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL.