[Variant Covers is a column every Tuesday that breaks down the various titles coming out that week in the world where The Sentry can rip dudes in half even though he’s totally emo.]

Siege #3

The sun is finally shining, spring is arriving, and I’m excited for the next issue of Siege. Yeah man, I’ve been drinking the Siege Kool-Aid since the first issue. It’s such a refreshing spectacle. For starters, it’s short as fuck. This isn’t some prolonged storyline running over eight-issues and nineteen spin-offs. It’s four issues. Four. As well, there ain’t much going on besides people slugging the shit out of one another. Oh sure there’s minor developments and some inspirational speeches by Steve Rogers and others.

But for the most part? Just demigods swinging hateful knuckles at one another.

Last month, the fucking Sentry ripped Ares in half. It was one of the more memorable splash pages in recent memory. Guts and blood and rage vomited across two gorgeously drawn panels. Righteous. The Sentry is more than a blatant Superman rip-off, the dude is a schizophrenic mess with the powers of a God. He’s like Old Testament God, when Our Lord and Savior was totally emo and was like “Thou ain’t listening to me and shit, eat a flood!” They probably hang out.

So this month I’m begging for the throwdown between Thor and Mr. Bobby Reynolds. Listen, I had misgivings about Sentry being able to rip the God of War in half, but so help me if he’s able to take out the God of Thunder. That’s ludicrous. The first time I digested The Sentry splitting Ares like a shitty pizza, I was like, no way. One dude is a God, the other is just some byronic douchebag. So yeah, Marvel. I know you want to pump up The Sentry, but Mjolnir and The Mighty Viking better reign supreme.

Choker #2

The debut issue of Choker was a vulgar, insane, bloody detective story set in some depressingly shitty dystopian future. It should go without saying that I fucking loved it. The first issue laid the groundwork comfortably within the confines of familiar noir tropes. You have the beaten detective taking on a job promising some sort of salvation, that you just know is going to end poorly. What makes it so enjoyable is the odd world that Ben McCool and Ben Templesmith have envisioned. It’s dark as fuck, there’s lots of swearing, and apparently there’s vampires. Or something. The first issue set the stage, and I’m curious to see where they’re going this week with it.

I can’t recommend the title enough, if only because it’s a welcome alternative to my steady diet of capes and tights. Ian, you say, read some totally alternative indie comic book about a dude talking to his goldfish! Now that’s literature in graphic novel form!

No thanks.

I like my titles to be placed firmly in the fantastical, whether it be with mutants, or detectives up to their arms in shit in some dark future. I mean Jesus Christ, this title is set in Shotgun City. Am I simpleton? ‘Cause this shit seems awesome to me.

Read the rest of this entry »

[Variant Covers is a column every Tuesday that breaks down the various titles coming out that week in the world where Jean Grey dies over and over again, only to return as a hot-ass redhead. Again.]

Cable #24

I think tomorrow may be the day when I hope aboard the X-Train again. I haven’t been following those kooky batch of freaks for a while now. The X-Verse has become so convoluted and expensive to follow that instead of trying to keep up with it, I just imagine days when Wolverine used to drink beer in Australia and get crucified, and everyone was hopping through the Siege Perilous. The good ole days!

Cable this week is the beginning of the X-Event that hath been dubbed Second Coming, and if I had to say of what, I’d guess: Jean Grey. It’s not the most complicated guess, given that Cable has been escorting around a super-special mutant with red hair and green eyes for the past couple of years. Also, last year at New York Comic-Con, when Matt Fraction was asked who Hope was, he was like “Uh, she’s got red hair and green eyes” and then he laughed.

Seriously.

So shit be poppin’ off with Jean Grey and Cable, having finally returned from the timestream, or an alternate reality, or wherever the fuck they were. And so I figure it’s worth checking out. The whole Hope and Cable storyline is an example of why comic books are both absurd, and great. Let’s deconstruct what’s going on here.

Cable is protecting Hope. Who is Cable? Cable is the son of Cyclops and Jean Grey’s clone, Madelyne Pryor. Alright it’s pretty fantastical. So then, Cable is shot into the future and shit because of some techno-0rganic virus that couldn’t be treated in the present day. This was just an excuse to make him look XTREME back in the 1990’s, but whatever. Then Cable comes back from the future, and is older than his Dad.

Sweet.

Then there’s Hope. This chick was the only baby mutant born after the Scarlet Witch went all bonkers and willed the mutants out of existence. And oh, she happens to have red hair and green eyes. Then she jumps into the future with Cable. Dude cannot, simply, will not get enough of the future. He fucking loves it. As an aside, when is the “future” for Cable? If he grew up fifty-zillion years in the future, is present day the past? Whatever.

So there’s Cable, Cyclops’ son. And he’s protecting the reincarnated manifestation of the chick his Mom was cloned from. It’s pretty fucking fantastic, and this is the sort of shit that could only happen in comic books. As I mentioned, the X-Books and myself have not been BFFs for a long time, but the whole culmination of Jean Grey returning has got my attention.

There’s nothing really else I’m checking out in the Marvel Universe this week, though there’s the usual Spider-Men and Deadpools afoot. Does anyone check out any of the fourteen Deadpool titles? I’m intrigued, and I figure there has to be one worth reading.

Weekly World News #3

One of the stalwarts of grocery shopping when I was a kid was the deli counter guy always giving me a piece of cheese. In retrospect, the pervert in me wonders if he was just trying to tap my Mom’s ass. Oh, how cute, he gave my son some food and look at him with glee. And look how he handles the meat! Fuck, I need my meds.

The other staple of grocery shopping with Mom was the inevitable begging for a copy of the Weekly World News. I’ve always been a sucker for ridiculous stories about aliens and freaks, and Bat Boys. Which seems pretty obvious, given the fact that I write a weekly comic book column. This was far before the internet, so I didn’t have dope columns on conspiracies and shit to read every week. I had to get my fill from the ole Weekly World News.

I haven’t read any of the comic iterations of WWN, but I’m glad that this comic is out there. Clearly having read this as a child has warped my mind in unforeseen ways, and it gives me comfort that it shall be doing the same to other little children. Or maybe just fat fanboys like myself who can’t let go of childhood nostalgia.

Superman: Last Stand of New Krypton #1

Superman has spent the last god knows how many months embroiled in some legitimate bullshit on New Krypton. What’s New Krypton? Oh, just some fancy new planet for the Kryptonians to live on that is opposite the Earth in orbit around the sun.

Yeah, fuck that. Even if you hate on Superman, you understand something simple. Superman is dope because he’s the lone survivor of a demolished planet, trying to make sense of his place in the universe. As I’ve always said, and I love because of this, he is the emo existential crisis personified. And I’m emo, and constantly in some sort of existential crisis. When you bring a zillion million Supermen into the fold, all of a sudden they’re not as cool.

Just like Jedi, or those douchebags from the Matrix sequels.

So finally, Superman is throwing down with General Zod – yes he’s back – and all sorts of other Super-dbags in this one-shot, that is setting up the War of the Supermen storyline this Spring. Sweet. If you’re in charge of the next Superman movie and you have the misfortune of reading this column, pay attention. This is exactly what Superman needs to be doing. Fighting shit. Ignore Bryan Singer’s movie where he was Superlifter and cried a lot and sired a bastard child. Superman needs people to punch. I don’t care if they’re robots, or other straggler Kryptonians.

And judging by the cover to Last Stand of New Krypton, he’s going to be fighting both. Perfect.

[Variant Covers is a column every Tuesday that breaks down the various titles coming out that week in the world of blind assassins and zombies.]

Daredevil #505

Daredevil’s my favorite book dropping right now, and it has been for a while. It doesn’t have the sensational bullshit of everything that interconnects with Siege, or Dark Reign, or Dark Siege, or Reigning Blood or whatever the epic event of the moment is called. And no, it doesn’t even have Jennifer Garner, or Ben Affleck in it. So what the fuck, I know. It’s a title brimming with nothing! Not even a Deadpool appearance! But the shit is excellent, and you should be reading it. Matt fucking Murdock is straight-up running The Hand these days. And if they weren’t a bunch of bad-ass assassins before, they look even more ballin’ with devil horns affixed to their ninja masks of awesomeness these days.

But the real reason that I enjoy Daredevil so much is that it doesn’t resort to status-quo restorations every nine months. Shit has been swirling around the toilet for years now in the life of Matty. He’s gone from an outlaw, to on trial, to a prisoner, to watching his wife go insane. Maybe I should be glad that Daredevil doesn’t pump any insane numbers in the sales department, or they would be way more careful with the title. Even the appearances by H.A.M.M.E.R or Norman Osborn feel less forced, and more in sync with the actual universe.

Our boy Murdock takes to Japan this month to solidify his grasp on The Hand through one of their international branches. Though, I suppose calling Japan the international branch of a league of ninjas probably doesn’t make that much sense. I’m waiting for the whole trying to run a league of assassins thing to go south for the ole’ Devil. It seems like a magnificently shitty idea to think he can run a squad of undead ninja-guy-things, especially since he doesn’t have the heart of coal it requires. Emo Kid Peter Parker should check out Murdock’s life next time he thinks he has it rough, he’d be in the corner listening to Taking Back Sunday and cutting himself if he had to deal with half the bullshit Murdock did.

Other shit coming out in the Marvel Universe? Uhhh. There’s Deadpool: Merc With A Mouth, which is one of the seven-thousand Deadpool titles at the moment. Then there’s a new issue of Uncanny X-Men, the events of which I have no idea about, and cannot understand. They need a jumping on point for that title, because every time I try to buy an issue I feel like I walked into some bizarre world where nothing makes sense, Magneto is back from the dead again, and Emma Frost is a bad guy/good guy/bad guy/good guy for reasons unknown.

Zombies Of Mass Destruction #6

There’s a comic book called Zombies of Mass Destruction. Either you’re sold, or you’re not. I’m not, but I can imagine a lot of people do cartwheels over anything zombie. Are they played out, yet? I mean, are they even scary anymore? I wonder if when the eventual and unpreventable Zombie Apocalypse occurs, we’ll all be so blase about the walking dead, and that will be our undoing.

Oh it’s just a zombie.

And we’ll forget that the zombie is intent on eating our soul and munching on our brains, and that’s how they’ll take us down. Yes, the zombies will finish us off the same way everything else does in life; they will take advantage of our apathy. We’ll be trying to watch Monster Truckers Crush Skulls or something on Spike TV when they just walk into our houses as we stare at the idiot box and eat us.

I called it here first.

Green Lantern #51

Hey kids, are you like me? Are you reading Blackest Night, and trying to enjoy it? Well, let me suggest something to you then: buy all the bullshit tie-in titles! My biggest complaint with Blackest Night is that they’ve turned reading the fifteen Green Lantern titles into a necessity. I call hogwash on this bullshit. For example: I was talking to my friend Charlie about Blackest Night, and he was all, yeah, I can’t believe they killed off Kyle Rayner. And I was like, huh? When the fuck did this happen?

Oh, only in Green Lantern Magicorps Redux (Blackest Night Tie-In)! What the fuck is this bullshit? You mean I’m plunking down $4 for some fucking epic event, only to have deaths and shit thrown about in the tie-ins? This isn’t fucking Solovar, this is fucking Kyle Rayner! Motherfuckers.

So trust me, if you want to have any idea what’s going in only the biggest event in the DC Universe right now, you better pick up this week’s Green Lantern. Otherwise you’ll be like me, a confused asshole who lives in their parents’ basement. Don’t believe me? Check out the solicitation:

The most epic battle in BLACKEST NIGHT yet comes to a shocking conclusion as Hal Jordan makes the ultimate move to take on the Black Lantern Spectre.

So…the most epic battle of Blackest Night takes place…in Green Lantern? If you say so! You fucks.

There’s also a bunch of other BLACKEST NIGHT tie-ins you totally should/should not pick up depending on your principals. There’s Blackest Night: Flash, where Barry Allen probably dies, and Green Lantern Corps, which is sure to have some epic event that unfolds, like maybe Kyle Rayner fuses with Lex Luthor and they both ride Metallo out of Earth Prime or some shit. Just to make you feel fucked if you only read the main Blackest Night title.

Choker #1

The first issue of Choker is coming out this week, and I’m jazzed because I’m a huge glutton for Ben Templesmith’s work. You may know him as the artist and co-creator of 30 Days of Night, or the co-creator of the barely-ever-released but no less awesome Fell. There’s something about his artwork that I can really get into, and so when I heard that he was putting this out with writer Ben McCool I was stoked. And if that wasn’t enough, McCool’s explanation of what the title was about sounded as though it came from the rotting canals of my own brain:

I guess I’d better lay down the disclaimers, then: language used is dastardly goings-on are repellent, and the characters are so lewd you’ll feel like only an industrial-strength jet wash will be able to rinse your tarnished conscience clean. Put simply, we’re hoping to give Bill O’Reilly a Rush Limbaugh-resembling hernia.

It’s a rotting, filthy noir fable. How the fuck can you not get amped for that? Wait, you mean you’re not a glutton for perversity and depravity? I can’t relate to that.

Batman and Robin #8

It really saddens me that Batman and Robin, a title that was created for Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne couldn’t twelve or so issues before delving back into the monotonous resurrection of Bruce Wayne. And if that isn’t enough, consider the fact that we know the actual return is coming in a stand alone title, Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne. So what the fuck is going on in the pages of Batman and Robin? Why, they’re trying to bring Bruce back to life! It all just screams of redundancy and lack of progress.

Who the fuck knows, I could be wrong.

It is upsetting to me that an interesting storyline involving Grayson trying to wear the cloak and embrace the burden of filling his pseudo-father’s shoes has been canned so quickly into its run. Whether or not the timeline was intentional or not, I am the unhappy because everything is switching so quickly back to the Bruce Wayne type thang. There’s some speculation that Bruce could return and not be Batman, or even that the dude’s displaced spirit is going to be caged in the body of Damian and, and, and…I don’t fucking know, I don’t care.

So this week we find the emaciated, laser-blasted corpse of Bruce rising from the Lazarus Pit. I don’t need ingenuity or textual analysis to figure out that it isn’t going to work, I only need to look at the list of DC events this year to figure out that this attempt is going to be a steaming failure pile.

That’s the bad. The good? Well, the storyline is being written by Morrison, who has been Batman’s curator for the past few years, and as usual, I dig it. If you want to look aside all the annoying seemingly financial aspects of the storyline, Morrison continues to drill into Grayson’s psyche for interesting examination. While reading this newest arc where Grayson so badly wants to succeed in bringing Bruce back, there comes a debate. Is Grayson really bringing back Bruce out of a promise to be there and protect him always, or is it a selfish motivation, because he can’t handle manning the wheel of the Batmobile himself?

Grayson’s motivations have been interesting throughout. The dude had to don the Cape almost out of necessity, to prevent a pack of assholes from Damian to Jason Todd inheriting it. And since wearing it, he has been fumbling through the motions, trying to distance the symbol of the Cape from the symbol of the Man who previously wore it.

Hit-Monkey #1

Listen, it’s a fucking Monkey Assassin. You’re not sold? You’re saying it isn’t worth your three-dollars? C’mon now! I don’t know anything about Hit-Monkey, other than the cover features a monkey dual-wielding pistols in some dramatic pose. Apparently he’s from one of the seventy-three Deadpool titles that I don’t read. I’m so out of touch. I’m like the Awkward Uncle of comic book readers, I think I’m still hip but I’m sitting here in an Age of Apocalypse t-shirt covered in chunky peanut butter and wearing no pants.

That said, I bet it’s somewhere between “entertaining” and “not worth my money”. I’ll give it a whirl, since I’m comics-curious. And when I say I’ll give it a shot, I mean I’ll buy it and it’ll sit in the rest of my backlog, gathering dust and grimy fingerprints.

The entire week in Marvel seems dedicated to variant covers featuring Deadpool, and I’m on a nostalgic trip. I remember the good ole days when everything had a variant cover. If it wasn’t a tin-foil, ultra-rare, holographic, four-dimensional cover featuring Savage Dragon, I didn’t want anything to do with that shit! And it seems the good days have returned! Yes! This week you can get Deadpool variant covers of shit like Amazing Spider-Man, Invincible Iron Man, Wolverine Savage, X-Men Forever, and yes, more.

This will cure the ailments of the comic book industry! Variant covers! It’s all so simple, why didn’t they try this like fifteen years ago. Oh, they did. Collect them all to be a true asshole!

Man, I ain’t read shit in two weeks. There’s comic books piling up on my computer desk at an increasingly rapid rate. They sit there, begging to be read. I tell them, “Shh children, I will attend to thee soon”, and then I return to whatever activity I am currently caught-up in. All of this shit started when I began my grad school classes last week and I actually had to read real things.

The fucking pile continues to increase in enormity, and then it begins to intimidate me. I’m all “Holy fucking shit, I have ten comics I have to read”, and I say to myself that I don’t want to short change them, so I say “I’ll read them when I’m not exhausted and resentful of the written word.” Apparently, the time when that occurs is never. Sure, I could be logical and just read one at a time but that makes too much sense.

The entire thing runs tandem with a desire to actually comprehend the shit I’m reading. Earlier last year, I realized a several of things. First that I read comic books and things in general way too quickly. And because of this, two things happen, I retain very little of what I’ve read over the long term, and I analyze even less. I thought it was something just particular to me, but I asked around and some of my friends shared the same plight. They read a lot, but what happens and to whom slips their mind quickly.

Of course, it’s all compounded by the fact that you have to wait an entire month for the next installment, and you’re reading ten or twenty titles at a time. Everything begins to blur and blend and the next thing you know, you’re thinking of Daredevil fighting Cyclops while Batman jacks it in the corner. And as far as actually picking apart what was going on in the comic books? I really wasn’t.

So I decided to do what a college professor and mentor of mine recommended back in the day, “Read more, less.” Spend more time reading less material, and thereby ingesting that shit more thoroughly. But of course, that shit takes way more time than rushing through an issue, checking out the epic fights and the snappy dialogue. As well it requires a bit more of a higher brain function, and for anyone who reads this column regularly, it is apparent I struggle at composing sentences that are halfway intelligible, and don’t contain the word “cock” or “cunt” every other noun.

So along the way, and adopting something my bro told me, I really only allow myself to read a comic book every half an hour or so. It stems from him telling everyone and anyone to only read one issue of Watchmen a day back when all of our friends were checking it out prior to the movie release. It made sense to me, and since then I try and give every comic book its own time. Maybe the actual reading won’t take a half an hour, but then I’ll sit there, and rework what happened in my head. Recall the main characters, ask myself what is going on thematically.

I may be doing this while writing something up, or while vegging out to a video game. But there’s a secondary ingestion that goes on after I eat up the comic book itself. And by god, the shit has worked. My memory retention has gone up, my appreciation for the underlying shit has increased, and I have found it way more fulfilling that I did prior to adopting this method.

And then grad school came in and fucked it all up.

I’ve found myself reading five-hundred pages a week, going over dense literature and scholarly articles, and by golly, it vexes my brain. When I throw three or four hours a day into the wind by reading something by Sarah Fielding, my brain is spent. My eyes hurt, and I can’t fathom staring at more pages or giving them worthwhile attention. So I say to myself, “I’ll get to them when I can give them the attention they deserve”, which it seems, is never, lately.

Maybe my entire process is too rigorous, especially for a guy who reads almost exclusively books featuring aliens named Clark and fascists named Bruce and genetic freaks named Scott Summers. Maybe I’m digging too deep into them, but I’ve always thought there was something to be said for what is being done in the more “mindless” comic books featuring the typical tired tropes and enormous muscles.

Interlude out, regularly scheduled vapidity will return next week.

Joe The Barbarian #1

Grant Morrison is one of my favorite bros rocking comics these days. I know he isn’t perfect, but that’s what unconditional love (fanboyism) is about: accepting your crushes with their warts and all. I still have no idea what the hell happened in Final Crisis, aside from Batman getting shot with some lasergun and being transported into the paleolithic age or some shit. However, one of my biggest butt-crushes is dropping a new comic this week, and I can’t help but fap vigorously at the idea of a new title by him.

Joey the Barbs follows a teenage kid thrown into some sort of fantasy world filled with ninja commandos and other absurdity. Whether it is typical teenage escapism, as Joe flees from a Dad felled by the war in Iraq and high school stress, or something more fantastical, I’m intrigued. I can’t remember Morrison writing something from the perspective of a teenager, but my brain is rotting at a ludicrous rate. Morrison’s wonderfully drugs-addled brain is sure to come up with some surreality. Here’s hoping that the plot is as comprehensible as the premise seems interesting.

Mighty Avengers #33

Oh Norman Osborn, you fucking bastard! Would you believe that an Avengers title finds Norman Obsorn being all sorts of dastardly, trying to wield the Cosmic Cube? Yeah, me either. Dude is as played out as Dane Cook, and sucks just as much. But so yeah, the fourteen Avengers teams seem to be grouping up together to try and stop the Iron Patriot, or some shit. Tired of the forty-five Avengers titles? Help is on the way, my dear child. After Siege, Marvel is canceling all the titles, and I assume stripping them down to one or two titles. Which is good, because it’s hard to keep track of what is going on these days in the Marvel Universe.

Even Hitler has no fucking clue what’s going on:

Read the rest of this entry »

[variant covers is a column every tuesday that breaks down the various titles coming out that week in the world of telekinesis and titty shots]

Siege #1
Marvel isn’t wasting any time this year. They’re straight-up kicking off the first publishing week of 2010 by rocketing straight into their magnum opus, Siege. In a staggering bout of dumb-assery, Norman Osborn has decide it is time to throw down with the lords of Asgard. I’m not sure what sort of excessive hubris you have to be packing to decide you want to fuck with the Gods, but apparently the voices in Osborn’s head have it. So Obsorn, and his douchebag brigade of cronies, the DARK AVENGERS are going to stomp right into Asgard and I assume, ultimately get tore the fuck up.

I’m sold.

At its simplest, Siege is an excuse for Marvel to have Osborn battle a bunch of deities, which seems to result in the fractured core Avengers getting back together and putting a stink on the Green Goblin’s face. It’s been such a long time since Stark and Rogers and Mr. Thor got together to lay thunder and shield and repulsor ray on a common enemy. Ever since Civil War, they’ve been spread out across a multitude of realms. Steve Rogers is straight trippin’ balls after getting shot into the plot of Slaughterhouse-5, Tony Stark has reduced himself to a vegetable, and Thor? I’m not really sure what he’s been up to.

Marvel is branding it as the culmination of seven years of plotline, and I’m ready for it baby. If I had to live another year with Norman Osborn running pretty much everything, I was going to rip out asshair and fashion a stankbeard. I’m hoping that Steve Rogers, fully minted in his body again, is like, you fucking guys let Norman Obsorn weasel his way into power? Talk about dropping the fucking ball! But seriously though. From the moment the Avengers all disassembled, into Civil War, into the death of Steve Rogers, into the most Secret of Invasions, into Dark Reign, it’s been one goddamn nightmare after another for the Marvel Universe. And not only that, but the complexity and burdersome nature of intertwining every title into some sort of endless, fatiguing Super Event has left me wistfully thinking of simpler days.

It’s Brian Marvel Bendis and the gorgeous art of Olivier Coipel throwing an epic showdown in Asgard, that is promising to strip down and simplify the Marvel Universe. I’m sold.

There’s nothing really else coming out in the Marvelverse that catches my eye this week. See, I refrained from saying “nothing else that is awesome coming out”, showing my wonderful growth as a human being and open minded comic book reader. However, Marvel last week did tease this gorgeous piece of Spider-Man artwork by Pasqual Ferry. Something serious is going down with Peter Parker this year! Go fucking figure! There’s always something big going on with him. Ever since that douche traded his marriage and memories of Mary Jane to Mephisto in exchange for saving Aunt May’s decaying, disgusting, propped-up-by-pills-and-preservatives-ass, I’d been down on the Emo Arachnid. Who makes that trade? May has like three good years left, and she’s wasting them by marrying the father of J. Jonah Jameson. Good work dude, your spider-ears have to hear the groans of old Aunt May backing that ass up for the father of the guy who absolutely hates you.

Orc Stain #1

Listen. I’m a geek who plays World of Warcraft, secretly wishes he was Gimli and listens to shit like Amon Amarth. Anything called Orc Stain is going to gain my attention. I feel like I have to champion it misguidedly on principle alone. It’s about an orc (duh) named Stain who has begun to see the cracks in orc existence and the endless wars they fight. It seems like social commentary to me, featuring an orc. Now I’m really sold. It’s by writer James Stokoe, and while I don’t know him because I’m ignorant and uneducated, better people may have read his work Wonton Soup, whose premise is that one of the galaxies best chefs leaves behind galactic acclaim to become a space trucker. Bizarre. And cool.

Superman World of New Krypton #11

I have no idea what’s going on in the world of Superman. I also have no idea why this title isn’t tying into Blackest Night. Was there some sort of break-down in office memos? I mean, you need to slap the Blackest Night title on that shit! Sells more copies! Black Lanterns are canvassing the entire cosmos, but they can’t roll up onto New Krypton? Wicked weird, yo. I’m just kidding. I’m glad they’re doing their own thing, and they haven’t been assimilated into the monolith event.

All I know is that Clark Kent has been framed for murder, and there’s some sort of conspiracy between Kryptonian guilds. I didn’t make that up, apparently New Krypton has been taken over by guilds, maybe because they play too much Warcraft and they’re like, we’re fucking superheroes, let’s form a guild. They sound so cool.

But seriously, who would ever believe Kal-El is a murderer? If the dude had some balls he would have punched the dumb head off of Lex Luthor eons ago. Dude definitely isn’t into Bentham and his utilitarian ethics. How many lives could you have saved, Clark, if you just mustered up one skull crush? Yeah, stand on your moral high ground. I’m sure there’s some mother whose child had their head stepped on by Metallo who probably disagrees with you and your high horse.

Just sayin’.

The above picture is Nicholas Cage looking like a douchebag in a superhero costume. But that’s okay. Because unlike if he starred as Clark Kent in Superman, the dude is supposed to look absurd in his current role. Dudebro is starring as Big Daddy in the film version of Mark Millar’s Kick-Ass.

I love the shit out of Kick-Ass, even if it’s just Millar riffing once again on the mundanity of suburban life, and how all of us geeks yearn for being able to fly around and shoot shit out of our asses, and eyes and cocks and stuff. And in the forthcoming clip, we get to see how Big Daddy trains his daughter to be a superhero.

How?

He teaches her how to take a bullet, by shooting her in the chest. It’s as amazing and hilarious as it sounds. Check it out after the jump. Read the rest of this entry »

A couple of weeks ago Pepsibones and I walked into our local comic shop. I hadn’t been in a long damn time, and it was great to step foot into it. I’ve always joked that Wednesday and the bushel of new comic book releases was the only therapy I needed; mind you it isn’t, but it makes me feel good. There is something invigorating about being swathed in a bunch of comics, cheesy stand-ups, and nerd t-shirts. Just shooting the shit with an awesomely jovial owner about a variety of things, and then marching home with a pack of new releases under my arm.

I hadn’t been in awhile though, and I had felt myself falling out of love with the same superheroes that I’d been following for fifteen years. I had Event Fatigue. I was burnt out on the endless Blackest Night and Dark Reign titles. I just wanted to pick up a comic book, have a well-crafted tale told by a favorite author of mine, and not be assaulted with an endless litany of crossovers and “continued in”-type shit.

In other words, I was fucked.

Pepsibones had been handling the comic book reconnaissance, but I felt a deep yearning in my nerdticles that day. I needed to return to my Mecca. Recharge my batteries. We walked in and I hit the owners with a guilty-ridden wave. I felt like I had neglected them. Did they fear I was cheating on them with another comic book store? Sticking my greendongs in someone else’s register? Christ, I hope they didn’t think that.

We walked over to the comic book rack, and I was hopeful, excited.

And then I saw the releases. I scanned the rack, scanned the rack, scanned the rack. There was nothing there. I was depressed, concerned. What the fuck was going on? I walked over to one of the owners, Dean.

Dean, dude, recommend something. Please, give me something to read.

Dean looked at me.

What do you mean? It’s a pretty big week. There’s tons of stuff over there!

I looked at him, incredulous. Was it really? All I saw was a cloister of bullshit. I sort of shrugged. Then he hit me.

Maybe you don’t like comic books anymore?

He was joking. Sort of. And then I began to panic. Did I hate comic books? Do I hate comic books? Have I finally fatigued of the endless carousel? Is this what happens when you become exhausted with countless deaths, rebirths, resurrections, status quo disruptions and subsequent old status quo installations? What the fuck was going on with me?

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Supergod #2

I know what you’re thinking, “Ian, why are you recommending the second issue of Supergod, despite the fact that you haven’t even read the first one because it sold out too quickly? Is it perhaps because you’d take great pleasure in sniffing Warren Ellis’ used toilet paper?”

And the answer is invariably, of course!

More seriously though, I’ve been digging on the concept of Supergod since it was announced back in the middle of the summer. Let me try and sell it to you by quoting Lord Ellis himself on the premise of the title:

“SUPERGOD: praying to be saved by a man who can fly will get you killed.”

In short, it’s about man creating gods who then destroy the world. It’s morbid, and interesting, and it deals with all sorts of teleological shit that gets my philosophical boner rising. And oh yeah, it’s by Warren Ellis.

Siege: The Cabal

In case you were wondering what Marvel was going to do next to milk your comic prostrate for every last dollar, it’s the super megaevent, SIEGE. After seventeen years of Dark Reign, Norman Osborn plans on taking down Asgard. Good luck with that dude. But nonetheless. Since you cannot simply start MEGAEVENTS anymore without hyping it up with an Issue #0, and thirteen preludes, Marvel is giving us Siege: The Cabal. Apparently The Dude Formerly Known As Green Goblin throws down with Dr. Doom and the rest of the dillholes he aligned himself with. Smash, kapow and crap.

I’m actually sort of excited for Siege, just because it’s going to be penciled by Olivier Coipel, and I always am curious to the point of wasting money. I’m going to assume that The Cabal is just a quick money grab before the main event, but I am also a cynical asshole. How about you buy it, and if it doesn’t suck, I’ll borrow it.

Also dropping in the Marvel-verse is the fourth issue of The Marvels Project. I feel sort of shitty for shying away from this mini-series. It’s by Brubaker and Epting, who generally rock my socks. But I don’t have much interest in getting into yet another Origin of the Marvel storyline. I picked up the first issue, and never got through it. It’s wilting away sadly in some magazine rack in my house. I’m probably a true douche. And then there’s Fall of the Hulks, which is serving only to remind me that the Hulk and like his Hulk son or something still exist.

Seriously, the Red Hulk is still running around, and from what I’ve been told, people still don’t know who it is. I hope this shit doesn’t go on longer than wondering what GAMBIT’S DARK SECRET was back in the mid-90’s Hey Gambit, how do you feel about the Red Hulk?

Sacre Bleu! Mon Cheri! Mon Ami! Kinetic Playing Cards! Shitty 1990’s character! Just tell us, already!

Bro, I couldn’t agree more.

Blackest Night: The Flash #1

I know that I’m totally being hypocritical when I tell you I’m amped for this shit. I mean, I prattle off endless paragraphs about how I hate comic book events, and their spin-offs and shitty infiltration of all the regular books. And here I am, recommending a Blackest Night title? Calm down, let me explain yourself! Then you can point out the fact that I’m a douchebag.

The thing that I’ve liked about Blackest Night is that it’s focused almost exclusively on Barry Allen as the hero of the story. Thematically it makes sense, since he is the ultimate dude to have escaped death. You can take it that way, or reason that his resurrection was a cheap gimmick. Either way, he’s back. It’s nice to see an event that doesn’t involve Superman and his perpetual existential crisis, or Batman detecting shit. And with this spin-off, we get to see more of that goodness, and a fucking zombie flash!

Apparently Barry Allen’s archenemy is the Reverse Flash. I have no idea what the fuck that means, I suck at DC lore. Does he like, move really slowly? He is the reverse after all. I have no idea. But he’s back. And I have faith that Geoff Johns and his boy Scott Kolins can rip off something interesting. Flash fanboys speak of the duo in hushed whispers of reverence. I have only recently begun to appreciate the Flasher, but I am going to take them at their word.

DC is also dropping Superman World Of New Krypton #10 which sees Clark being tried for murder. I’m not down with Superman rocking out on New Krypton, but I can tell those tools one thing: Homeboy Kent didn’t murder anyone. He’s not that sort of guy. Alright? He loves his Ma and Pa and shit. I know this because we’re reminded every couple of months of this, and also of the fact that he will forever now look like Christopher Reeves. Speaking of which, and this would be tight, why don’t they resurrect Christopher Reeves in Blackest Night?

Just sayin’, cross-promotion.