Ah, labor pains. The tremendous abdominal liquidations that come from strenuous exertion. It’s the middle of the semester for Seminal Idiot turned Teaching  Assistant  right here, and I’m ready for a break. I read a couple of comic books last weekend, and but for a moment, the skies opened up. Yes, I thought to myself. Perhaps it will get better. Here I am, though. It’s Tuesday, and I’m blasting through this column with little regard for grammatical form or editing. Per usual. I know.

This is Variant Covers.  Here are the comics I’m excited for this week.

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[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Life can be too damn busy at times. Too much work to do. Too many errands to run. Too many cults to join.

With free time a commodity, one has to be very careful about prioritizing. As much as it pains me, there’s no way that I’m going to get through this week’s stack of comics before next Wednesday. It sucks, but I’d feel like a real sonofabitch if I sat around reading comics instead of going to the pharmacy to pick up Grampa’s prescription.

So this week, I looked through my funnies and tried to determine which single issue would receive my attention. Again, this wasn’t easy – it sucks to have to put off reading Choker as Templesmith’s art is fantasti-gorgeous, and Wolverine: The Best There Is since it seems to be specifically designed for my ultra-violent sensibilities.

Nevertheless, I decided. This week’s featured collection of wordy-scribbles and colorful-doodles is Sweet Tooth #17.

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Variant Covers. Sometimes it’s a love affair. Sometimes it’s an apathetic union. And sometimes its a ruthless hate fuck. Today is the latter. Pressed up against a deadline, I am inspired to do nothing. Refresh the same websites. Pound caffeine. Ignore my schoolwork. But I’m here, you’re here, and there are comics coming out tomorrow. Here’s the shit that may grease your underwear with excitement.

Per usual, hit the comments box with your pull list for tomorrow.

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Lady Mechanika #1
This new comic from Joe Benitez caught my eye when wandering through the various release lists for tomorrow’s loot. G’damn! Sometimes something sneaks up on you, and you want to kiss the gaping asshole of whatever force pushed you in its direction. I’m hoping this a dope find. A gorgeously illustrated steampunk release starring a vixen? Had me at vixen. But here, check out the plot description, “the tabloids dubbed her “LADY MECHANIKA”, the sole survivor of a psychotic serial killer’s three-year rampage through London. Found locked in an abandoned laboratory amidst countless corpses and body parts, with her own limbs amputated and replaced with mechanical components, her life began anew.”

C’mon! Tell me that isn’t worth at least a glance at the introduction. Sold.

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A Collection of Collections.
There’s a collection of collections coming out this week that caught my eye. ‘Tis the season and shit! Gift a comic book nerd you know with one of these bad boys. First up is the second collection of Jeff Lemire’s Sweet Tooth. As someone who is following this in trades, I’m excited to dive back into this series. Think The Road meets fantasy meets familiar tropes of responsibility for society’s future, et cetera. It’s one of my favorite releases of the past year or so.

Speaking of Jeff Lemire, his Superboy #2 is coming out, and if you read the first issue you understand: this title has promise. I don’t give a shit about Superboy, or Smallville for that matter. Or rather, I didn’t. Then Lemire stepped up. God, the dude has writing chops. Jealousy +500.

As well, tomorrow carries the first collection of James Stokoe’s Orc Stain. I can’t find this motherfucker at any comic book shop near me. Trust me, I’ve looked. As my local comic shop continues its depressing slide into bankruptcy, my comic book shop love has become polyamorous. So I’ve slutted around in my search. Now’s a chance to snag it all up and collected from my buddy, Mr. Amazon. I have a good feeling Stokoe is going to be someone we’re all going to be hearing a shitload from in the next couple of years. He’s talented, eccentric, off-kilter, and bizarre. Something of a kindred spirit for my demented brain.

Also last week hee did the world an enormous solid and released an entire unreleased comic book over on his website. Murderbullets. It’s fantastic, and I’m actually saddened I couldn’t spend money to support the effort.

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Variant Covers. Your one-stop shop for the comic books I’m excited about dropping this Wednesday. Your chance to comment, and recommend titles you’re reading not only this week, but in general. A brothel of pathetic attempts at intellectual dialogues, and more glaringly, juvenile jokes. Welcome, I’m excited you’re here.

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Scarlet #3
In recent weeks, I’ve tried to ease up on my bashing of writers. Well, ignoring the fact that I took Mark Millar behind the woodshed. Particularly writers that I like, and respect. So whereas I used to bemoan Brian Michael Bendis’ decline, I’ve tried to rationalize it under the idea that he carries an enormous work load for Marvel. Far too many pages for me to fathom churning out every month. I know he’s a talented writer. I know it.

Scarlet is case-in-point.

My brother and I are big fans of Scarlet, Bendis and Maleev’s creator-owned title being published through Marvel’s Icon label. As I’ve detailed before, the time that has been put into this book bleeds through in oodles of quality. Oodles, guys and gals, oodles. The title’s distinguishing feature is the smashing and tearing of the fourth-wall, with Scarlet talking directly to the audience throughout the book. Juxtapose that son of a bitch with Maleev’s creative use of paneling, and you have something that snags you by the nipples right away.

Scarlet’s recruiting a revolution, and she wants you to join in. Trust me, when a sexy femme fatale is talking to you, the loins surge.

It’s a solid title, with tropes that aren’t particularly new, but as I said, they’re executed well. Bendis’ wit shines through, and Maleev is fucking gorgeous as ever. The dude could pencil two pigeons fucking and I’d be on-board. The sort of artwork that could carry a title, but with the writing, simply compliments it.

Grab this son of a bitch.

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Baltimore: The Plague Ships #4
It seems like every time I turn around, a new issue of The Plague Ships is flying its way onto shelves. Get it, cause it stars vampires? Flying? I’m a fucking dunce? I concur. And that’s absolutely fine with me. While it isn’t righteous enough to command my full attention with every issue, the title entertains me in a mindless sort of way that I sometimes need. You should seem me when I’m reading an issue of S.H.I.E.L.D by Hickman. I got a pad of paper, and a pen. I’m scribbling notes and asking rhetorical questions like the grad school lit major loser that I am.

The Plague Ships is a way to decompress. I want to emphasize that this is no fucking knock on Mignola. The title is tight, entertaining, and extremely sexy in the artwork department. It operates on a level that I can definitely feel. Sometimes it’s perfectly fine to be nothing more than fun. For the burgeoning intellectual who is going to give some brilliant reading of Plague Ships in the comments box, let me stop you: you’re probably right, but I’m turning my fucking brain off for this title, and riding the wind. Get it? Like a vampire? Yeah, fuck me.

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Superboy #1
Lest you think I’m packed to the gills with dookie when I say I’ll read anything you recommend to me, consider this: prior to about six months ago, I had never heard of Jeff Lemire. A reader with good taste recommended that I snag up Sweet Tooth and I did so. Since then, my ass crush for the dude has been immeasurable. Love him. I’ll admit I’ve only ingested seven issues or so of his work, as I can only grab Sweet Tooth in TPB around these parts, but I dig him.

So with that said, his name alone is enough to push the relaunch of Superboy onto me. What’s it going to be about? Damned if I know. The synopsis promises wonder and the beginning of the next great epic in the DC universe, but I mean, c’mon. That’s cream puff bullshit. All I know is that it’s a very talented writer getting a crack at an up-and-down icon within the stretched parameters of Metropolis.

Sometimes the author is enough for me to check something out. Actually an author I like is always enough for me to give something a try.

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Another week, another edition of Variant Covers. The weekly column dedicated to fawning over Wednesday’s new comic book releases. As an over-educated but under-developed fanboy, most titles I mention are of the superhero assortment. This results in me griping about the lack of character development in financially charged titles, while still giggling at laser beams, and staring at spandex-covered asses. Paradox! Let’s dance.

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S.H.I.E.L.D. #3
If you’re not reading SHIELD (I’m absconding from using the acronym every time, sorry), I don’t blame you. Outside of the buzz carried through the various comic book websites, it’s rather unassuming. Walking across it at the shop, you may not be lured by the gorgeous artwork. I mean, funny books ain’t cheap no more, and curiosity often meets short ends at the hands of a tight wallet.

So I’m beseeching you, read this comic book. If you haven’t yet, snag the first two issues, and pick this up tomorrow. Jonathan Hickman’s SHIELD ain’t Nick Fury and a helicarrier. It’s Leonardo Da Vinci, and an immortal city underneath Rome. It ain’t covert ops and espionage, it’s Galileo versus Galactus. From what the reader has been told throughout the first couple of issues, the premise is that SHIELD has been a centuries-old secret society fashioned to further the Human Machine. Unfortunately, as all good things, it has been spurned by the handiwork of some legit d-bags. Alas. Fuckers.

Thankfully, a resurrected Leonardo Da Vinci has returned to set shit straight. Yeah man, that Da Vinci.

It’s a surreal trek through time, space, and philosophy. Not content just blending the worlds of history and funny book, Hickman has continually pressed the issue on the power of ideas in shaping human history. SHIELD ascends being a literal shield, and instead becomes symbolic of humankind’s pursuit of the Heavens. Not only that, but the battle over definition extends to the very concept of definitions – if Da Vinci claims destiny means one thing and the Legions of Old Assholes claim otherwise, the battle seems to rage on not just an ideological battle, but also a physical one as well.

In other words, they be spittin’ both thoughts and spears at one another.

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