"I live, I love, I slay, . . . I am content": the love song of Conan the Barbarian
Let us slay then, you and I,
I twirl about.
I maintain a high grunt per scene ratio.
I casually roll boulders down a hill
To free a colony full of buxom slaves.
I say "Yargh,"
I gaze soulfully
At my loyal African sidekick
(A Zamoran pirate)
Named Artus (Nonso Anozie).
When he asks if he can help me with my vengeance,
I turn to look into the sunset,
And say "This is something I must do alone."
I fight high-jumping CGI sand warriors
Summoned by the evil incestuous Marique (Rose McGowan),
The witchy daughter of Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang),
Who killed my dad.
I am brutal, bleak, recherche, and secretly quite sensitive.
I lie upon the rocks of Kohn Kolba and sunbathe my oiled buff chest.
I rarely wear a shirt.
I say to my nemesis, "I want your head"
And do not mention the Governator.
I avenge my father's death at the hands of the evil Shadowlord
Because I was born in battle,
A babe raised on mother's blood (not milk),
Sprung by my father's sword C-section in the midst of flames and fighting.
I seek protein milkshakes in the deserts of Hyberia.
I do what I can to stop
The meddlesome encroaching reign
Of supernatural evil,
So when I thirst, I thirst for blood.
When my sidekick asks me
If Khalar Zym has Godlike power
Now that he has the mask of Acheron
And "eyes red as fire,"
I turn and stare soulfully
At the distant skull cliff
(Lifted from King Kong)
And say "He is just a man," and then walk on alone . . .
I must save the pureblood nun Tamara (Rachel Nichols)
From being crucified upon a circular rock of stone.
As the great CGI columns of Khon Kolba
Crumble around us.
If I feel cold,
It is the cold edge of steel in oceans of blood.
As I fend off the mighty tentacles of Zognar
In the dungeon of Argalon,
My loyal sidekick says,
"This is madness.
She must be very beautiful."
Still, if Tamara gets quarrelsome,
I do not suffer from male insecurities with women;
I tie her to a rock.
I am uncomplicated.
I have the simplicity
And charm of a barbarian,
But if you defy me,
I will lop off your nose;
And if I find you again,
Many years later,
I will stick my finger
Where your nose used to be
To get information.
I must beware of Marique's twisted guile,
Her metal claws and Gothic red tattoos.
Still . . . I must go alone.
My sidekick Artus is visibly moved
And says "May you find what you seek,"
I boldly walk upon the moody shores of Shapir at dusk,
Sword in hand.
I am Conan of Cimmeria, I am content.
Somebody's got to do the slaying.