Variant Covers: Inside the Psychodrome; Nostalgia and Zombies

Blackest Dorks
[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.]

I know, I’m fucking late with Variant Covers. This disappoints all of the three people who read my comic book coverage on the site. And for that, I apologize. I get down on my knees with the most sincere of apologies, and I beg you to forgive me.

To rock a cliche, truth be told, I haven’t really been reading many comic books lately. And truth be told, having to write every week about them really isn’t that fun sometimes. It’s amazing that sometimes, under certain circumstances, two things you love a real fucking lot – comic books, and writing, can combine to create a sense of misery.

So I decided to change it up this week. Throw a curveball. It’s my website, what the fuck! Instead of talking about the comics that I care about this week, I’m going to wax nostalgic on something relating to them.

Blackest Night #7

Blackest Night is coming out this week, and I’m sort of stoked about it. All the Captain Planet members are combining to romp some ass on Necron, Lord of the Wunderkind Zombie Deth. Yeah, totally, man!

I’ve never been one for DC events, yeah I know, fuck me. I was far too young to enjoy Crisis On Infinite Earths, so the one that really go to me when I was a kid was Superman Dies. I think everyone my age was sucked into the hysteria surrounding the non-death of Clark Kent.

I distinctly remember sitting in line before class one day in the school yard, and staring with insane jealously as some kid’s wrapped copy of it. There was a bloody Superman emblem on it, and I was like, holy fuck, I need that shit.

It’s one of the things that got me into comic books. I as at the perfect age to be swept up in the omfg, Superman is DED?! bullshit that they were hoping for. As well, I was also way too young to actually realize he was just going to come back to life.

I spent so many hours debating, just who the fuck would be the new Superman! There was no way it could be that dickhead Steel; he was utterly unimpressive even to me at that age. I always had my money on the rotting, fucked-up Cyborg Superman. He creeped me the fuck out, and I think that’s why I liked him so much.

Eventually it was Black Suit and Ponytail Clark Kent that rolled back up onto the scene. At that point it became clear to me that there was nothing more bad ass than Superman wearing a black leotard, and having some righteous hair. He probably spent his siesta rocking out to the Black Album and Rust in Piece while taking ballet lessons.

Just a guess.

Also dropping is a new issue of Batman and Robin, which I refuse to be excited about this point, and the latest Flash: Rebirth, and guess what! Wally West will always be the Flash to me, suck it, you old fucks!


Amazing Spider-Man #622

I don’t know what’s going on with Spider-Man these days. I really don’t. Spider-Man’s never really been my thing, though I have been sucked into him on various occasions. If Superman Dies was totally my DC thang back in the day, then I mean, how the fuck can I not give props to the Clone Saga?

The same shit that really chaps my ass on my bitter days in the now was the sort of storyline that got my heart all aflutter back in the day. Maybe I need to take a xanax and just stop hating. I couldn’t fucking get enough of the Clone Saga! Ben Reilly?! Peter Parker with blond hair? It was insanity!

And as a kid, I really dug it back then. It was so far out there, and it really got my imagination spooled-up. These days I’m probably too calloused, too jaded. Everything that occurs has to be me with a “Well, yeah, but they’ll return” or a “It isn’t going to last anyways.”




Back when I was little, I was far more capable of enjoying the ride. But that really applies to everything in my life. I’ll be god damned if I’m not thinking of the four articles I have to write for OL, the fifteen things in my past I really don’t want to think about but can’t get over, the reading I have to do for school, the shit I have to take, et cetera.

The immediate and undiluted enjoyment of my childhood has taken a back, back seat. Back of the bus with that guy who is drinking out of the paperbag and wearing a Starter Jacket from 1990s with the Tampa Bay Lightning on it.

I need to take lessons from my younger self, and just fucking relax.

Also coming out this week is Fantastic Four #576. Unlike those who grew up worshiping F4 because of Jack Kirby, my claim t remembrance is when Jim Lee rocked them in Heroes Reborn. Listen, it was just the zeitgeist of the times, I was a product of that generation. I know it probably sucked to anyone with   fistful of pubes, but to my young mind, it was magic.

If you’re still looking for more, there’s a zillion X-Titles coming out. All of them, I’m sure, incomprehensible. All of them, I’m sure, selling much better than more deserving titles. Because like me of fifteen years ago, kids are buying up anything with an X; and maybe just for today, I’m cool with it, and I understand.