This world makes me sick. It’s filled to the brim with indecent and unending horrors that squash your dreams and turn your stomach. Every day we are forced to stare at hideous injustices like warfare, poverty, crime, and Miley Cyrus. But the most revolting thing in this world – lower than the fly-riddled fluke shit of a pedophile’s rotting corpse – is Twentieth Century Fox head honcho Tom Rothman.

Mr. Rothman has one of the greatest jobs on Earth – he works for the richest studio in Hollywood’s dream factory. Basically, whatever Rothman imagines can become reality. He earns millions of dollars a year to spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year making feature films. It’s a pretty nice gig.

So why does he insist on producing the most vapid, pointless, and artistically bankrupt films in the history of the medium? Rather than create films that break new ground or forge new pathways, Rothman continues to remake the back catalogue of Fox, or turn toys and board games into movies. It’s bewildering.

Rothman held the previous record for most unimaginative production slate in Hollywood history; almost everything currently in production is either a remake or a sequel/prequel. Do we really need another version of THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY? Can FANTASTIC VOYAGE really have any relevance today? You almost have to slap yourself to stay awake while reading their list of upcoming films.

One of the worst recent Rothman decisions involved remaking the Arnold Schwarzenegger classic PREDATOR, which needs no revision. The fanbase howled in agony over that decision, which Rothman shrugged off as he calculated the potential first weekend box office tally.

But nothing can prepare movie fans for the truly awful decision, announced this week, that Rothman and his monosyllabic goons are planning to sully the ALIEN franchise yet again. The initial idea was a remake, which has now been scaled back to the less egregious (but still shitty) idea of doing an origin story about the aliens.

From Rothman’s perspective, this is a golden egg just waiting to be broken open. He must be ejaculating all over himself at the idea that he can make an ALIEN movie – which is sure to be number one at the box office upon release – without having to pay $20 million to Sigourney Weaver or any other actual talent. Imagine … hire some twentysomething actors, bring in a yes-man director, and slather on the CGI. It’s a guaranteed $80 million opener!!

But from any other rational perspective, this is a kick to the dangling fruit. ALIEN is one of the greatest science fiction/horror films ever made. Besides that, the film remains one of the best examples of direction, cinematography, and editing. Its simple story and well-designed alien are compact, needing no further embellishment. Part of the thrill of the first one is not having all the answers about the alien. We are basically dropped into the middle of a discovery in process, and we’re forced to survive it along with the characters onscreen.

But Rothman feels that more needs to be said. Or, rather, more money needs to be made. In fact, you can almost smell the inevitable ALIEN PREQUEL TRILOGY announcement coming next week, since everything needs to be made into a trilogy these days. Rothman is so delusional with greed that you could see him bending his own mother over the kitchen table if he thought he could squeeze a nickel out of her inflamed hemorrhoid. It’s disgusting.

Few film franchises have ever gone astray with such recklessness as the ALIEN franchise. Fans are still smarting over the incredibly misguided ALIEN : RESURRECTION, as well as two “team-up” films with the PREDATOR franchise that made ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN look like CASABLANCA. You’d think Rothman would finally give up, but, like a shark in bloody water, he cannot stop until the final dollar bill is snatched from moviegoer wallets.

I sadly admit that I agree with Rothman on one thing: an ALIEN prequel will make a lot of money. Moviegoers will line up for the film, desperately hoping to savor a little magic and excitement. Unfortunately, they are doomed to an endless loop of nightmares served up by Rothman, the Freddy Krueger of Hollywood’s imagination-free dream factory.

Sad.