Skynet became self aware in 2258. There is gain and loss in self awareness. The loss is plain and heart shattering: never again can movie monster films populate with screaming Japanese citizens, fleeing in panic. All such scenes filmed now are post-self aware and, thus, neutered, dull, self-parody.
It is a worse state than jumping the shark, which almost always dramatically precedes self-aware.
There is a finite pool of pre-sentient Godzilla footage.
The rest is heresy.
The comic panel takes place in New York's dank storm sewer channels. It is abyssal, deep, planar, absolute and the Marvel of modern comic book monster movie craftsmanship.
The mammalian horror wends a woven wave against the reptilian wrathfulness and hopes that brindly fire douses weepy waves whilst the window of life weeds out the warlike long ancient dinosaurs for all time for the hirsute beast's reign and the arctic rain crying down the glacier bed for honeyed ever splendid middle of the night song and trickling dance that drops from the swiveling hips to where the fairy sings.
Happy that honor and fairy waltz the speckled waltz, flit the tangled trot and bound the strumming minuet?