No, 2012 is not quite the pointless cinematic exercise that G.I. Joe was, as I noted in my review last week. But that hardly means that Roland Emmerich's disasterpiece is unworthy of its own tone poem.

No, 2012 is not quite the pointless cinematic exercise that G.I. Joe was, as I noted in my review last week. But that’s no reason not to repurpose some of its more notable dialogue for an alternative literary experience:

As musical parody goes, this exploration of how the characters of G.I. Joe amuse themselves when they're not on the clock isn't particularly memorable. What's fascinating, though, is that the satirists managed to assemble a vastly more talented and interesting cast than that of the actual, $175 million film.

Sometimes, a film defies conventional narrative and artistic standards so utterly that it seems unfair to judge it by them. G.I. Joe is such a case, a movie that has, through its own inverse accomplishment, earned the right to speak for itself. I've let it do just that here.

--Christopher Orr

Sometimes, a film defies conventional narrative and artistic standards so utterly that it seems unfair to judge it by them. G.I. Joe is such a case, a movie that has, through its own inverse accomplishment, earned the right to speak for itself. Consider this a tone poem in 40 scraps of dialogue:

The New York Post, last week:

Paramount: We're Not Hiding 'G.I. Joe'

Paramount is denying a report it's going to forego press screenings for "G.I. Joe'' before its opening next Friday -- invariably a sign that a movie is terrible.

AP, today:

In this commencement season, I myself gave the commencement address for a bunch of high school dropouts.

Mind you, the school was Bard College at Simon's Rock, where students enter after tenth grade instead of twelfth, immediately beginning college work and never looking back.

It would be a good thing for America if these students' experience was more ordinary--except that it would also be a good thing if there were many, many fewer college students at all.

Even TNR's offices are not immune to veepstakes fever. It all started when John Judis put the "unity ticket" idea out to pasture.