Five Reasons Why Predators Are Actually Terrible Hunters

In the classic movie franchise The Predator and its sequels, the all-important fact that the audience is supposed to gather about the aliens of the title is that they’re amazing hunters (predators in fact).

However, in much the same way that Nigel Farage will warble endlessly about taking the country back or the concept of homeopathy – it’s a premise built on total bullshittery.

Here’s why ‘Predators’ are actually terrible hunters…

They Have A Massive Technological Advantage

There are tribes in Africa who can, using simple tools and intelligent stalking techniques, trap and kill massive game – these are top hunters.

Conversely, there are also fat, rich Americans going to Africa armed with Armalite AR-15s and sitting in the back of jeeps arbitrarily spewing bullets into rhinos – the body of which they then squat beside in posed photos as if they actually achieved anything by killing the animal.

The Predator – the supposed master hunter – has way more in common with our trophy hunting overweight American, favouring as he does killing creatures over which he has a massive technological superiority so that he can keep their skulls for selfies to show his predator mates on whatever their equivalent of Facebook is.

They’re Bigger, Faster And Stronger

 In almost every physical attribute, the Predators piss all over their human prey.

They’re taller, stronger and faster. They’re better climbers, swimmers and stalkers. They outclass humanity physically the way you or I outclass Donald Trump mentally. There’s no contest, it’s actually unfair.

Even the musclebound beefcakes on display in the first Predator film were outmatched by him and they’ve the combined mass of a neutron star.

They Have A Cloaking Device

 Despite being bigger and stronger, they also have a fucking cloaking device!

So not only will they easily fuck you up when they catch you, but you won’t even see them coming – like chlamydia or Brexit.

They Can See In Heat Signatures Making It Easier To Hunt

 Shit, here’s a muscle-bound, weapon-strapped predator coming through the trees invisibly, I’d better hide so he won’t spot me…

Oh wait, he can see various different spectra of light so he’s found me easily and is now ripping my spinal column out through my skin while playing a recording of my best mate laughing. Yeah, that’s fair…

They Still End Up Losing To Some Inventive Human

In spite of all the advantages the Predators have in the numerous films, they still end up getting bitchslapped hard by some wily human survivor.

Sure, they kill a fuckton of us first, but in the end they get their arses handed to them. That’s like a cat losing in a fair fight to a terrified mouse whose family the cat has just eaten in front of his face.

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