Some men are not like other men. TechnoViking is such a man. This anarchist Kraut is the shit. He would kick the dogshit out of Chuck Norris, for starters. He could probably tackle Earl Campbell in his prime 2 out of 3 in an Oklahoma drill. You don't believe me?
After watching, let me narrate the action for those of you who do not hail from the faggy Techno streets as Henry James does:
It opens with a large of group of Eurotrash, doing what ET do: dancing to bad techno in Berlin street festivals and talking about important social issues like how fat Americans are or how global warming chafes them. It sounds boring, but it's actually fun if you do it on peyote and Jägermeister while wearing little Euro spectacles.
The tension builds as we focus on a blue-haired women wacked out on Ecstasy wearing a tie dye Hello Kitty backpack. She is groped by a Teutonic townie who bears a strong resemblance to a young Joey Buttafuoco (all townies the world over wear this same exact tank top).
The lady is in peril! Who will come to her aid? Already, the EU is drafting a surrender...oh, who is this? It is TechnoViking! There will be hell to pay, townie!
TechnoViking imposes his stern will on the townie like a date rapist in a coma ward. He humiliates the guido with his harsh rebuke.
It is now clear to the Youtube viewer that TechnoViking will one day bring forth Ragnarök.
I particularly enjoy when he raises a finger to the tank-topped bufoon's friends and leaves it there as if to say,"You don't want this. No, seriously. Look at my finger. I'm serious." Then he begins to stroll - purposefully - like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Like he's headed across the Rhine.
Notice that TechnoViking's lackeys serve him unquestioningly. The pop star Moby appears to bring him an offering of water - handed to him upside down to show that he is being ironic. I believe it is mead. Mead of the Gods.
They walk behind their deity in supplication and awe. And he dances. Oh how he dances.
TechnoViking dances like Chooky with glowsticks with a baby's pacifier in his mouth in a Tuscola nightclub.
He is then brought a missive of some sort. I don't believe there's actually anything written on that paper, but it looks badass to be handed a message by a lackey and then read it with concentration in a public place while everyone is watching you. I do that shit all of the time in meetings because it gets respect. Michael Scott makes Pam do it an epidsode of The Office.
He crumples up the message. Enough talk. Enough reading. Enough purposeful festival walking.
Now, it is time to dance again! DANCE, TECHNOVIKING! DANCE, GODDAMN YOU!
Dance for all of us.