Battlefield Earth: Space is Lebensraum!

The year is 2042, mankind is at war with a race of viciously fundamentalist space mutants called the Kreen Deltas Kappa Aieee's, who are intent on colonizing Earth for the purposes of spreading the message of their Holy Church, to spread Blogs.
"Sir!" shouts an emaciated corporal through the narrow slit in the back of my bunker, "You have to get out of there!"
"What?" I repliy, too intent on watching the perimeter for possible threats to notice such a pissant annoyance as some shitty noncom trying to cope with his own cowardice.
"Sir!, They're advancing on this position! There are too many of them, they're going to overrun this hill whetehr we're here or not!"
"Get back in your hole soldier!"
"But sir!"
I turn to him, giving him the full benefit of the four stars on my shoulder and the death in my eyes
"Soldier! Either way you're wholly fucked because you either get back in your foxhole or I take my shotgun and blow you another asshole! We are going to hold this place from those dirty Blog-reading freaks if it takes you, me, or the entire Mormon fucking Tabernacle Choir!"
"Yes Sir" he tremored, the hollow sound of a slow wetness covering his pants being the only distraction as he left to contemplate his death.
I turn back to my post and resume my vigil. The mist on the perimeter is thick tonight, I think, the bottom of the hill is out of site. Shit, those dirty Bloggers better not try anything or I'll fill that ground so full of lead that forty years from now people will still be dying of lead posioning.
Then suddenly, out of the darkness comes a light, and a sound!
"Is it just me or does George Bush resemble a kind of cross between a drunken Colin Farrell and a female Orangutan?"
The fuckers! I bellow, it seems they've sent in an advance guard of their political division, some of the worst of the Blog Armies, always ranting in an eloquent manner about the political events of the day.
"I mean come on!" the voice continues " He fits the bill perfectly, he's slow, simian looking, is illiterate, obsessed with himself, convinced of his own righteousness and also a complete fucking liar!"
From the natter I can tell it's alone because there's no fucking piddly little voice shouting "Comment! Comment" in the background. Good, I think, this should be easy. I cock my rifle, aim down the long barrel until I see movement to my right, an indistinc shape forms, falls out of the mist, it's a backpacker!
He's holding a Lonely Planet and everything.
And indeed, there were many of these on my recent trip to Vietnam, which I just returned from and it was lovely. Emma and I went to Saigon and then down to Mui Nei and then back up to Saigon and it was fantastic. A Couple of days of relative chilled outness and I even managed to read the new Harry Potter that all the kids are talking about. Otherwise, I've been working, chilling, formulating, playing, sleeping, eating and writing, but not neccesarily in that order. I'm still looking inot a few of my projects and hopefully some of them will be coming to fruition soon. Work is good, I've just submitted two TV Commercials and I did some general assistance on a Print Campaign for Mercedes in China which will soon go in every major newspaper across the country, which is cool. So I'm pretty happy with it, even though I should have done much better. Emma's cool, she's finished her internship so she now starts the fecking about stage of the holiday that I so love and she so hates. Otherwise, just the usual struggle de-la-Rory McGrath, One man against the Man!
Oo Ee.