There’s a new Captain America promo running on TV that drops a bit of a spoiler. I guess? It feels pretty obvious to anyone who has ever read or heard about the comic book. It’s still a dope bit though, so if you want to remain unspoiled don’t hit the jump.
Daryl’s resolve had been fully reinstalled by Vanessa, the love of his life. He now had a force fortifying him, filling the few remaining empty spots of his soul with purpose. With an emotional connection expressed physically, one is far less vulnerable to the wounds that Life so desperately tries to inflict with His rapier.
That is, of course, unless heartbreak is involved. For as rewarding as is the ascent to the top of the mountain, the tumbling downward is doubly painful. Given enough time, even the most sincere relationships can deteriorate, either losing their vitality or compromising until all that remains is a shadow.
And the shade is fine. Unless you’ve walked in the sunlight.
MoviePass wants to be Netflix for actual movie theaters. For $50 a month, you can get unlimited viewings.
Listen. I’m a Grant Morrison fanboy. Listen. My distaste for The Being Inhabiting Mark Millar is well known. So it’s pretty obvious that I’m fucking biased, but hearing Grant Morrison explain that Mark Millar cost him his faith in humanity is awesome. It comes in an interview promoting his forthcoming book, Supergods. Which I didn’t know excited. Fuck now I’m excited.
Mark Millar used to write comic books. Now he pens bullshit that he wants to turn into movies. He is clearly interested in superhero movies not going all Dinosaur on the cinematic landscape, and so with reports coming out that superhero flicks are dying he penned a rebuttal.
Without a fucking hint of irony: I think the trailer for Zany Tom Cruise’s next Mission Impossible flick is awesome. Great cast. Great director. Sexy, sleak action fun, starring some guy who thinks he’s an alien.
No really, it looks awesome.
Hit the jump to check it out.
Yasumi Matsuno is a pimp, and the creator of the last product Square put out that I gave a fuck about. Final Fantasy XII. That was five years ago, and rumor has it he was pushed out of the door before he could even finish the fucking game. Matsuno disappeared, and took with him some genuine magic. It appears the good sir may have a new home, Level-5.
It’s that mid-summer moment where the comic books are twisting in my greasy palms, affronted by humidity and my general toxicity. Comic books! One of the great stalwarts of summers, the MEGA-EVENTS coming out weekly. Say what you will about the general quality of the EXPLODEY TIME STORY ARCS that permeate the shelves during the summer, I’ve come to need them just as a means of passing time. Like marking days off a calendar, they’re there. And they’re omnipresent. Keeping me company.
Like the drunk Uncle at the Christmas parties who you thinks annoys you, but then when he dies in a horror shit-show of cirrhosis and bloody vomiting, you miss him under the mistletoe. Trying to kiss your Mom, his first cousin.
I don’t know what I’m writing about anymore. This is Variant Covers, your weekly take on the tasty licks hitting comic books shelves.
I didn’t know about it, but there was a fucking Party Down marathon at the Alamo Drafthouse. It appears that everything awesome occurs in that place. Well fuck. Out of this Drafthouse came not just what I assume was endless fun and excitement with the cast and shiz, but the news that there could be a Party Down movie. Lawd don’t tease me, lawd don’t tease me!