Born: Ginnungagap
Age: Innumerable
Aspires to: Chop Pat Robertson’s head off and use it for a bowling ball.
Smiles at: One person and nods at three more.
Favorite communicable disease: Ebola. So many nifty special effects in one little package of RNA.
Plans for World Domination include: Mechagodzilla. Yes, I own a Mechagodzilla, so fuck you. I’m good buddies with some space monkeys, and they totally gave me a Mechagodzilla ‘75 model. It’ll blow your shit up and have carnal knowledge of your mother.
Ultimate Finishing Maneuver: I send the Wolves of Fenris to eat your genitals, and Mechagodzilla screws your mom again.
Favorite Genres: Daikaiju, 70’s Italian zombie/cannibal splatter, 70’s exploitation, 50’s science fiction
Weirdest Movie In Collection: Barn of the Blood Llama
Wordsmiths of choice: H.P. Lovecraft, Brian Lumley, Neil Gaiman, George R. R. Martin, Terry Pratchett, Joe Bob Briggs, Mike Nelson
Sent from the Golden Hall of Asgard with an Amon Amarth CD in the stereo of his celestial transport, the earthly avatar of Mighty Ragnarok took a physical form to walk among men and do great battle with the powers of crap cinema. Lowly though they seem, the Gods of Cinemasochism are subtle in appearance while immensely powerful in combat, reducing many lesser men to puddles of whimpering jelly. Ragnarok reaves among these hellish horrors, massive war hammer crushing bone and shredding celluloid, laying waste to the fields of battle. He will not rest until the world is safe for legions of b-movie fans to place a copy of Can Heironymous Merkin Ever Forget Mercy Humppe and Find True Love? in their VCR without fear of the 4:00A.M. Doom claiming their souls.
