intro - wayne - dane - mark - bobak - jackson

So the lads do the singing - who writes the lyrics? Thatís Jackson the Robot (with the help of some clever humans, of course) Jackson canít talk English, he just makes a weird screeching sound, so it seemed like an interview was out of the question, until his good friend Larry the Robot said that he could translate. Go-Bots Go Botty!

100% So you write the music, then do you?
Jackson Yes, I do. Is that all?
100% No.
Jackson Continue asking me questions until you are finished.
100% Very well. How long does it take you to write a song?
Jackson One month for a top 10 song.
100% Thatís a long time for a massively powerful robot like yourself.
Jackson Most of the time is me processing the emotions of love, which I do not have, and working out decent metaphors for love. My favourite metaphor for love is that love is a plant that blooms and is beautiful.
100% But must eventually die.
Jackson Oh, God. I hadnít thought of that. Oh, dear. Thatís horrible.
100% The only certainty is death.
Jackson Well that is true, but the plant sprays its seed so that another life may be born.
100% Well yes, but in the case of dandelions, the vast majority of the seeds fall on infertile ground, or are eaten by dogs.
Jackson I'm not listening any more.
100% Do you have a soul?
Jackson I have started listening again.
100% Do you have a soul?
Jackson No. I am a robot. It is the job of the boys to put soul into my words by doing that thing with their voices where they go up and down and won't fucking stop.
100% What makes up Rhythm and Blues, then?
Jackson Mild disappointment, religion, sexuality, irrelevance, and soulless, clichťd lyrics. Between us, we have all five. This separation of powers is important. If one person had all five elements, they would be too powerful.
100% I see. And quickly, one final statement.
I always lie. I never tell the truth.
Jackson But... if you always... how... oh, God, my head!

Having blown up Jackson with a mini-paradox, 100% returns to base.

 disappointment.com