[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.

[pic : source]

It’s fucking weird out today. Something’s up. Massachusetts feels like it exists on an inhabitable planet. Which is really odd, since the shit and the snow and the sleet and the muck had convinced me we were on some awful amalgam of Hoth and Dagobah. I’ll take it though. The skies are blue, the air doesn’t stink of frost and snow, and the wind only makes my nipples slightly hard. Knowing New England we’ll be struck by an unforgiving blizzard next week, but who the fuck cares. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

Read the rest of this entry »

Came across more Fallout: New Vegas pictures courtesy of All Games Beta via PC Gamer scans. In a post Final Fantasy XIII / Mass Effect 2 world, there’s nothing I’m more excited for. I recently cracked open Fallout 3, of which I still haven’t done a shitload, and I remembered why I loved it so much. There’s something so hauntingly enjoyable about wandering a decimated, desolate land.

I’m ready to rock. At first I was hesitant, since it isn’t being developed by Bethesda, but rather by Obsidian. And if I hold Obsidian accountable for anything, it’s churning out the shitty sequel to Knights of the Old Republic, and ruining my Star Wars dreams. However, I didn’t realize that the motherfuckers at Obsidian include the founder of the team who made the original Fallout.

Well then! Alright, let’s rock. Head over to All Games Beta for all the scans.

The reckoning is upon me! The day I have been waiting for! As prophesied by uh, release dates and press releases. Final Fantasy XIII. Shit be droppin’ off at midnight, and I’ll be standing there in line with sweaty nerd palms.

There’s nothing more I can say about this game until I’ve actually played it, other than I’m stoked and my genitals swell at the thought of playing it. If you find me passed out in a pile of Diet Mountain Dew cans and covered in Chez-It crumbs, just leave me be. Spring Break kicks off for me tomorrow, and I have a date with a Playstation 3 and Bahamut.

Holy sweet Jesus Christ, the new Iron Man 2 trailer makes me throw rope everywhere. It’s got everything to put a Tony Stark fanboy like myself into a state of rapture so powerful I want to explode with nerdgasm. Alright, so Mickey Rourke is either going to be cheeseball villain perfection to some, and unbearable goof to others. He’s commentary about God and blah blah and the crappy accent? I dig it, but I can see why you wouldn’t.

All I know is that the moment when Stark takes   Iron Man armor out of a suitcase and it binds onto him? Pure technogasm sex. No, seriously. As a gadget fiend, I was fapping furiously and unrepentantly. One of my favorite aspects of the first movie was all the toys and technology Stark employs. The clicking and clinking of armor in the first one was sex to me, and the suitcase armor in this trailer gives the same service to my nerd-nads.

Also euphoric? Scarlett Johansson as a righteous redhead, what looks like to be some derivative of the Crimson Dynamos, and fucking War Machine. I need this shit, now. Check out the trailer below.

I was going to do my taxes tonight. I was, I swear. For the last few weeks I’ve been looking the small stack of W-2 forms on my desk and just shaking my head. “Later,” I’d tell myself, smiling like a child who has no clue where the last cookie went. And Friday, March 5^th, was supposed to be the day that the taxes get did. You know, so that the government can keep on doing all sorts of great stuff.

But it’s 10PM and it doesn’t look like the Taxman’s come to town. And I’m not laying my money down. In fact, I’m doing what most Americans do when they’re avoiding paying taxes — drinking fine malt liquor.

Read the rest of this entry »

I can’t even begin to wrap my dome around the idea that Final Fantasy XIII is coming out here on the mainland of the Empire on Tuesday. Tuesday. It’s really fucking real! No tricksies! I imagine if not already, sometime soon, copies of this son of a bitch will begin arriving in Gamestops and other retailers. Sitting there in the backroom, wait to be unwrapped and inserted by sweaty fanboys like myself.

Sometimes you wait for something for so long; like me sweating to lose my virginity, and when it finally happens, you’re like, no, seriously? It almost seems surreal. I don’t think I’m going to register that I’m actually playing Final Fantasy XIII until I emerge from my basement dungeon on Tuesday, ten hours into my first playthrough.

I told myself I was only sort-of excited about the game after all the reports of Tunnel Horror began to come out, but I can’t help it. I’m fucking stoked. Really stoked. My cardboard cut-out of Lightning has been sitting in the corner of my room, and I can’t help but glance at her and crack a smile. Even if she’s been bad.

I haven’t kissed her in a while because she told me that Rinoa was hotter than Yuna, and that really pissed me off. But maybe if she behaves herself, I’ll go give her a little smooch. Until then, I have begun smashing furiously (get your mind out of the gutter) on my keyboard, conjuring up my initial fanfiction where Lightning and Wakka team up to fight Sephiroth, of course! You’re only cool if you fight Sephiroth.

Tuesday!

Conveniently, my Spring Break begins on Tuesday. I have class Tuesday night, and I know I’m just going to be doodling totally awesome and realistic versions of Snow being all naked-chested and fighting dragons and stuff and little word balloons that say stuff like, this is pretty fucking easy, but it would be even easier if Ian was oiling my chest! And then I’ll be in the picture just like, nodding my head and winking. Meanwhile, my Women’s Voices teacher will be all like, Oh Women Were So Crafty Because They Wrote Plays and it will just drone on and on and on, and I’ll be counting the time until I can sit next to Cardboard Lightning on my futon and start playing again.

Tuesday!

[Search Engine Terms come from an app in the Word Press dashboard. It tells you the terms that people are using in google to lead to your site. Most of ours are ultra depraved and horrible. And amusing to sick people like me.]

I imagine it’s like, sixteen inches and covered in warts, sores, and probably has a flat-top too.

[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]

Looking ahead to the Wednesday releases, I assumed that First Wave #1 was going to earn the honor of OL’s pick-of-the-week. Set outside of the standard DC continuity, this title takes place in some ambiguous past, a pre-retro time of gumshoes and vigilantes. Without being bogged down by a litany of mandated superheroes and superteams, writer Brian Azzarello gets to showcase the more human qualities of Doc Savage, the Spirit and the Batman. Three bad asses who genuinely enjoy effing ess up.

And if this weren’t enough to induce pleasure-overload in the fanboy population, the series is being drawn by Rags Morales. This is the dude who did the pencils for Identity Crisis, one of the most personal and emotionally redolent superhero series I’ve ever read. He’s a great artist, but has recently done one book after another that I couldn’t care less about. Until now, that is.

First Wave #1 is an excellent comic book and I strongly suggest you snag a copy. Unless, of course, you don’t like a solid mystery story, artwork that convinces you to spend a few minutes on each page, great characterization, or good shit in general. If you’re willing to buy two comic books this week, make sure that this is one of them.

But if you’re only going to pick up one comic book this week, there is no better choice than Ultimate Avengers #5.

In case you don’t have a clue what any of this means, let me bring you up to speed. Ultimate Avengers is Mark Millar’s latest foray into Marvel Comics’ Ultimate universe, essentially updating and reimagining the Avengers. This series sees Nick Fury and Hawkeye initiating Project Avengers in an attempt to institute order after some near-apocalyptic catastrophe. With so many heroes dead or out of commission, readers are treated to some interesting twists on fan-favorite characters such as Tony Stark’s supercilious sibling Gregory and a genetically manufactured Nerd Hulk. It’s sick.

But perhaps the best wrench being thrown in the gears of Marvel continuity is Mark Millar’s approach to the Red Skull. In the Ultimate universe, Red Skull is the illegitimate son of Steve Rogers. Raised by a pack of government goons while Steve was stuck in suspended animation, Junior went totally bananas and decided that killing was a hobby he’d enjoy. Combining the physical prowess of his papa with an insatiable thirst for blood, this Red Skull is a (more than) formidable threat.

So, naturally, Steve Rogers wants to be the man to take him down. And this manhunt is what the book is all about…but insane. Basically, take whatever you’re imagining this book to be and force-feed it a six pack of Mountain Dew.

Ultimate Avengers #5 is just out of control. While Millar has used creator-owned properties to do whatever he damn well pleases, I think this comic might prove that he has been given total free reign. Pencilled by the fantastic Carlos Pacheco, this issue has some scenes so brutal that I was honestly shocked to find them in a mainstream comic. For instance, the first panel treats the reader to infanticide. And then, two pages later, an entire splash-page is dedicated to the assassination of JFK. Oh, and who could forget those panels that show the aftermath of forced cannibalism?

Reading these descriptions back to myself, I realize that this comic might seem gratuitously violent. But, really, it isn’t. Ok, that’s a lie — it is. Hell, peppered in between all of the aforementioned images are full-blown fight scenes. With that being said, the visual vulgarity of Ultimate Avengers #5 is irresistibly entertaining. Any time that I said exclaimed Holy shit! it was always closely trailed by that’s awesome!

I cannot understate the prowess of Mark Millar. This guy is firing on all cylinders, creating comics that are not only entertaining in the same way as action movies, but also filled with fresh perspectives that reinvigorate time-worn characters. It’s not just explosions, boobs & butts, and fight scenes — the madness is always anchored by a novel idea or two. And, more important, authentic sentiment.

I make no qualms about shelling out four bucks for a Millar book and neither should you. This week, the team of Millar/Pacheco/Vines have officially reached the Omega Level

What the fuck is this shit?! I came across it today at my local 7-Eleven. I was heading for some sort of caffeinated beverage to get my synapses lubricated. Because, let me tell you something, my nickname on this site isn’t lying. I’m truly caffeine powered. Not like giggles and haha. I’m a fucking addict. If you spend more than three hours with me, you’ll see me polish off something like thirty ounces of caffeinated bliss. My friend Tom came over a couple of weeks ago to watch LOST, and he was like, you know what’s amazing? You’ve drank three Diet Mountain Dews since I was here.

And I was like, you know how we do.

I can’t even begin to experience higher brain function until I’ve serviced Lord Caffeine. Ridin’ the dragon.

So yeah, I saw this shit today at 7-Eleven, and I was like, what the fuck? I looked all around it, demanding an explanation. Pepsi Max Cease Fire. It’s Pepsi Max with a hint of lime. But instead of calling it something like Pepsi Max Delicious Lime, they had to make it sound masculine. CEASE FIRE. Also, it’s some sort of crossover with a Doritos brand Pepsi Co. is introducing or some shit. I was intrigued though. I mean, when you pound as much caffeine as I do, you’re looking for something new.

I pounded it and went about my day, and wasn’t reminded of it until Pepsibones and I went to get comic books. It was sitting there on my car floor, abused and alone and left for dead after I had sucked all the life out of it. I explained it to him, and he was like, how did it taste?

And I didn’t even know. It was at that moment, and I told him this, that I realized my tongue only tastes two things anymore: Caffeine Filled, and Not Caffeinated. Anything other sensations are beautiful subtleties that I lost to the demon I’m possessed by a long, long time ago.

Unless it’s the Purple Poison. Then we’re talkin.