Your main criticism of the film was to position CLOONEY as... wait for it... a preening astronaut!!!!!!!!!! (he kinda was, that kinda was the point) who was too cool in the face of impending cold space death (as opposed to behaving... how?), and declaring that this, somehow, was "the worst part of the movie and it's not close."

I guess he was supposed to supply some space tears and sniffle loudly as he let go of the latch so he could float off. Also, according to you, he should have been... doing something else less "panty-wetting" and charming as he was on the verge of imminent space death (something like talk about how beautiful the view is when he floats off, which is what he actually did?). I didn't make that shit up, that's your actual argument.

Sometimes, people like me exaggerate (not "argue against myself," that's just fucking stupid) to make a point to people who do shit like declare a minor supporting role the bane of a film's existence.

You're right, though, I shouldn't have wasted so many paragraphs on this curious-ass shit, that's my bad. You can carry on with the bad defense of that critique of yours, and this time I'll try to stifle my laughter while refraining from posting...

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But Zootown, black people and media, so...