Pretty interesting excerpt dropped today over at Robot 6 from a Vaughn and Staples interview. Has me feeling all sorts of excited for whatever is coming out way in the seventh issue.

Hit the jump to marvel with me.

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“Ain’t even close enough to get me where I need to go.”

Rodrigo scrutinized the cup in his hand, sighing at the fact that there weren’t even enough coins to cover the bottom. Four hours at this goddamn shuttle station, and he’d earned no more than two dollars in assorted change. Which was a shame considering the lengths to which he was going to elicit the goodwill of the ticket-wielder passengers. He’d offered up the absolute cream of his milky anecdotes, skimming off the grimiest details about the mission to Saturn that’d first dented his sanity.

Gravity-maladjustment brain-bubbles killing crew members. Robotic death camps. Radiation sickness. A three-vagina’d Siren that forced herself on him and bore a son he’d later kill with a curling iron.

But nobody believed Rodrigo.

At this point, he was a week without a shower and even further from a clean shave. His fingernails were the color of rust and his breath smelled of sushi prepared in a bathroom stall overflowing with excremental exuberance. It didn’t matter that he still wore the boots from the Saturn mission and held onto the remnants of his helmet, without his DigID Card no one’d ever believe that he was Rodrigo Graham.

To the people walking about the Deimos Interplanetary Shuttle Station, he was just another space urchin.

As such, Rodrigo begged for change and the they kept on walkin’, content to gaze into their brain-rot glo-screens for updates every nano of the second.

shuttledelays.rodrigograhammemorial. civilunrestonearth. honeydon’tforgettopickupaquartofsynthmilk. livenudesfordeadsouls. superbowlreturnstohomeplanet. brutalstormsravagevenutiancolony.

And those that glanced up long enough to see Rodrigo’s desperate lips jabbering about still couldn’t hear the pleas. How could they? They were deaf with sound, ear-chewing on the synthesized bubblegum audio that piped into their brains without reprieve.

Rodrigo Graham was a hero of a human race that’d lost its humanity.

—-

Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! I’m going to detail some of the ways I’ll be getting excited about life during the next week. Then, you hit up the comments section and share your own strategies for defeating boredom!

Let’s do this!

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Rick Remender and John Romita Jr. have the less than enviable task of following up Ed Brubaker’s stellar run on Captain America for Marvel Now! Brubaker brought a decade of pure rock, dropping outstanding storylines and doing the unthinkable. He brought Bucky back and it was awesome. How do the two considerable talents follow up on such a run? By going in a different direction.

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Another comic book legend has embraced eternity. Joe Kubert, legend unto himself and father of two of comics’ biggest artists has passed away. So it may go, but it is still a bummer.

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I finally, finally, finally gave Casanova: Avarita my first complete read through last night. It’s some delicious hypertextual insanity, at times sacrificing coherence and character development for kinetics out the fucking ass. That’s fine with me. It does some really interesting things, especially when it gets metatextual. Sometimes the ponderings are centered around the act of creation, and sometimes the ponderings take such a form as the image above. It’s the sort of effervescent insanity that Fraction has to staple down for the most part in his Marvel marvelings, which is unfortunate because it is here where he really hits his stride. He’s been able to channel it in the (sadly nixed) Defenders, and I’m anticipating his collaboration with Allred on FF will continue in such a spirit.

How can you replace Jonathan Hickman on Fantastic Four? You can’t, you turkey! Not even Matt Fraction will fill that void for me, and ya’ll know that is saying something. Matt Fraction. Gorgeous head of hair, lovely sets of stories. Not even he can saddle up to Fantastic Four without me screaming “Not my Dad! Dammit!” What I am very excited for is the sister title FF, which seems to be going in a brilliantly Fractionian direction.

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Yes, that is awesome.

Check out artist Ramon Villalobos.

Sometimes you just need to run with a headline regardless of whether or not it makes sense.  Thor: God of Thunder has gotten itself a nice expose, exposing all of its nougaty bits for us to feast upon. Shit man, Marvel Now! has actually got my nipples tightening a bit.

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Want to know how to have a whole mess of fun?

Hide your grandpa’s medicine. Steal it from wherever he keeps it, and then put it somewhere else. Ideally, you’re goin’ to want to go at least two rooms over. After all, geriatric hips are rustier than robot dongs. And remember, you’re aimin’ to maximize your entertainment.

For example, if Grampy’s bottle of pills rests on the bathroom sink, filch that motherfucker and bring it to your kitchen. Once there, turn the bottle upside down and open it up over your dog’s dish. There’s no joy quite like that of besprinkling Alpo with Valtrex. Then, while you’re waiting for your parent’s parent to discover just how badly he’s been goofed, stand guard so as to make sure that Fido doesn’t start snackin’ away.

After all, the dog didn’t do anything.

—-

Welcome to the Monday Morning Commute! I’m going to show you some of the ways I’ll be keeping myself entertained during the hellish stretch known as the workweek. Then, you hit up the comments section and describe the weapons you’ll be wielding against the 40-Houred Beast of Burden. Yes, this is essentially electronic show-and-tell.

And no, you may not be excused to go to the nurse. Everyone must participate.

C’mon, let’s do this!

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