There are more than a few theaters across the country who semi-regularly screen 1984 as a response to the continued tenure of our corrupt, racist, slumlord sex offender of a president. But while familiarizing yourself with Orwell is always a good idea, John Carpenter’s last bonafide classic—1989's paranoid, left-wing, grindhouse sci-fi satire They Live—is a much more appropriate film for the strange, bewildering time we occupy. And for as good as John Hurt was in 1984, if we’re heading into a debased apocalypse of a future, I’d rather have Rowdy Roddy Piper as my avatar, kicking ass, chewing bubblegum, and—if he has to—literally beating some sense into you. Put the fuckin’ glasses on.