WHEN: October 3, 2014, 7:23 pm. (Week 40, September 28-October 4.)
WHERE: In my apartment in Portland, ME.
FORMAT: DVD on a 19” AOC LED computer monitor; digital download on an iPhone 3.
PHYSICAL AND MENTAL STATE: Exhausted after a long day of work.
Alright folks, let’s just jump right into this shit. This week, we’re talking Toruk Makto.
Becoming Toruk Makto (aka becoming a rider of Last Shadow) is apparently a pretty big deal to the Na’vi. Almost nobody achieves this mighty acomplishment. As Neytiri says, it has only happened five times since the time of the first sons (translation: a long fucking time). Not only is it a rare occurrence, but the Na’vi believe that when it does occur, it is a portentous event. Toruk Makto have the ability to bring all the clans together. The individual who achieves it instantly gains the ultimate social status. They are immediately looked up to as the saviour of their people. Essentially, they become a Big Blue Jesus.
He sees you. He sees us all.
Holy cow, that’s pretty impressive. But wait. To become Toruk Makto, you don’t have to have been born of a Big Blue Virgin Mary. You don’t have to be symbolically baptized by a Big Blue John the Baptist. All you have to do is stick your freaky hair dick into an apex predator, and make it your brain slave.
Making brain slaves is easy and fun!
Now, Last Shadow is a pretty intense critter. He’s the big badass dragon that makes all those other badass dragons shit themselves in fear. But, that being said, he’s not impossible to tame, and everyone knows this. It might be tough, it might be dangerous, but taming the Great Leonopteryx is an achievable goal.
Point in case: Jake does it.
Now here’s where we have a problem. Everyone in Na’vi society knows that they will be treated like a god if they can tame Last Shadow. They also know that taming Last Shadow is possible. So, wouldn’t one assume that pretty much every ambitious young Na’vi is going to be busting his ass trying to catch one? We should also factor in that Na’vi social status seems to be highly hereditary, with leadership roles passed down through descent and arranged marriages. If you weren’t lucky enough to get betrothed to the chief’s daughter, but you really want to lead the clan, hunting yourself a Toruk must start looking awfully appealing.
You can’t tell me this asshole doesn’t want a promotion.
So why isn’t the Pandoran sky riddled with Leonopteryx jockeys? Are Toruks just really rare? Does it take tremendous skill to capture one? I don’t buy either of those arguments, because Jake, a fledgling Banshee rider, manages to catch one in a matter of hours. Without even thinking much about it beforehand. He just says to himself, “Maybe if I jump on this thing I can stick my hair dick in it.” And so he does.
The hair dick solves all of life’s problems.
To be fair, Jake’s plan also involves attacking it from above, because “Toruk is the baddest cat in the sky… so why would he ever look up?” WHAT!? That’s like saying, “Lions are pretty badass motherfuckers, why would they ever look behind them?” I mean, really? Fuck this shit. But whatever, apparently this works. Of the directions Last Shadow could conceivably look in, up is the one he’s decided to neglect.
No, it doesn’t.
So, are we to believe that in the history of the Na’vi, only five guys, and Jake, have ever thought, “What if I just jump on it?” despite the fact that doing so would elevate them to cultural heroes of mythological status? I guess so. I guess that’s the explanation. The Na’vi are dumb and Jake is smart. Yay Jake. You are the Big Blue Jesus now. Have ice cream, Jake, because you are the tits.