[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Champagne high above, spirits far below.

[photo]

[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]

Historically, the Fantastic Four has never been my favorite superhero team.

As a young child, I was all about the motherfuckin’ X-Men. Outsiders who help humanity by using the very attributes they’re castigated for having? Ill. Later, I realized that the pantheon known as the JLA was my top choice. Maybe it’s because I’ve been agnostic nearly my entire life, but the convening of these pseudo-gods is appealing in a way that that other team-ups just can’t recreate. In a thousand years, I’m sure incredulous youths will ask their trusted adults, “Wait — these people didn’t really believe in a Wonder Woman or Green Lantern, did they?”

We sure did, Billy. We sure did.

Anyways, back to my point: up until recently, I haven’t given much of a damn about the Fantastic Four. Sure, I liked all the individual characters (especially Ben Grimm) but I just couldn’t get into the group efforts. I was born about sixteen years too late to read a Lee/Kirby production of Marvel’s First Family and as a child of the 1990’s, I routinely saw them being abused.

Witness the horror:

In case you don’t know, that video is forreal. Long story short, it was made simply to secure the movie rights and was never intended to be released. And no, cast & crew were not informed of this minor detail.

But let’s flash forward to 2010 – time has been kind to the Richards/Storm/Grimm squad. The titular book has spent the last year being rocked by such forces as Mark Millar, Bryan Hitch, Dale Eaglesham, amongst others. Characters and stories that can easily deteriorate into lame-ass nerd fodder have been remodeled, crafted into entities that are both heartwarming and throught-provoking.

Fortunately, this week’s release of Fantastic Four #580 sees writer Jonathan Hickman and penciler Neil Edwards perpetuate this wonderful trend.

Over the course of the last few issues, Hickman has been bringing a grand story to a controlled, well-calculated apex. Valeria, the younger Richard child, was visited by a future-incarnation of her older brother who forewarned her about an impending struggle between four cities. Lo and behold, four different civilizations have since appeared before the Fantastic Family. This is the larger structural frame onto which the monthly stories have been assembled.

But what makes Fantastic Four #580 particularly successful is that the reader doesn’t have to study piles of back issues to understand (or care about) the plot. Within the pages of this comic are two readily accessible stories. Intertwining, they offer two glimpses at the same familial unit.

In the first plotline, Johnny Storm takes his nephew Franklin and a mutant friend to a toy store for the new Impossible Man merchandise. In order to sell more action figures, Impossible Man shapeshifts into what is a hilarious parody; a combination of characteristics of both Martian Manhunter and Superman. But it’s not long before the Human Torch realizes that Impossible Man is being manipulated by Arcade, who is trying to turn a profit while murdering children. A battle ensues and the good guys finish on top.

The second embedded tale is of Reed Richards’ search for a brighter tomorrow. Acknowledging that he may be too far rooted in his ways, Dr. Richards assembles the Future Foundation — a group of children from different species that have taken refuge in the Baxter Building, as well as his daughter Valeria. He asks them to come up with an initial project, and they undertake the task of curing Ben Grimm’s orange-rock complexion. As babes with fresh perspectives, the members of the Foundation come up with a potential solution.

As with previous issues, Fantastic Four #580 also includes a two-page interlude that chronicles the future of Nu-Earth. Shit seems kooky, but it’s all building to something. Hell, it’s even been confirmed that the team will look different come September.

I don’t blame you if you’ve never been a fan of the Fantastic Four. They have been…well, fucking dorky. But this is the time to start reading, I assure you. Reed isn’t an introverted loser, he’s a genius with incredible insight. Sue isn’t some invisible wench, she’s a peacemaker. Ben Grimm isn’t just an orange rock man, he’s an orange rock man with a heart of gold. And Johnny Storm…well, he’s still a brash shit-talker, but with an urbanity that enthralls.

I didn’t do this comic justice. Go support the dying print medium and buy Fantastic Four #580.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

Barry learned to love his job.

[courtesy: slashfilm]

What happens when you mash-up Captain Kirk and Ke$ha? You get pure, odd win.

Ohhhh shit! DC Comics came out today and announced they were going fucking digital:

via comics alliance:

The current plan is to put an issue of Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman” online a week at Comixology, along with adding over one hundred issues of other DC titles a month to their digital library. Releases for the launch include perennial fan-faves like “Batman: Hush,” “Fables,” and “Planetary,” and alongside the release of archive material there will will be day and date digital releases of “Justice League: Generation Lost,” a currently ongoing series.

The digital revolution shall not be uh…covered in paper mediums! But no, this is really interesting to me. As someone who is clinging on to the vestiges of print media with a fury, as comic book publishers continue to sweeten the pot for reluctant nerds, it becomes harder to deny. I mean, the big deal here is the announcement of day and date release, which means that you can pick up Justice League: Generation Lost on your iPad the day it drops in stores.

I’m still denying, but it’s harder.

Nothing can supplant the enjoyment of going down to the local comic book store, talking to the owner and fellow fans and making an experience out of it. Sorry, DC Comics. And I hope it never will. There’s something enjoyable about basking in a community. As opposed to you know, staring at a sterile download bar in my iTunes.

Hopefully the tactile enjoyment and the process of buying comic books is as important to other comic book nerds as it is to me. Otherwise, we may be in for a league of hurt. I almost cringe for the owners of my local shop.

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[pixelation | weekly gaming column every wednesday]

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If I twist my body with the Kinect, the ladies dance. If I tilt my body with the Kinect, the cars swerve. If I give the Kinect the finger, will it also tell me to go fuck myself?

Do you know what’s easier than voice activating something? Pushing a button. Do you know what’s easier than flipping through menus with your hands? Pushing a button. Do you know what’s easier than motion controls? Finger controls.

The thing I like(d) about video games was that they used to let me escape my flabby, flaccid body. I didn’t have to be aware of the extra weight I carried in my arms, and I didn’t have to be aware of my jowls when I banked around a corner in Crazy Taxi.

I was a fat teenager, and video games were escape. Hopping and shaking and tilting and whirling, all these actions draw me out of the immersive environment. They make me all too aware of my shitty, stinky, corporeal shell. My fat meat husk, the thing which I am trying to escape.

With video games I’m trying to travel to worlds all too far away. All too unreal. All too beautiful to exist within this world. I’m trying to travel to places where aliens are real, mushrooms make you grow, and space exploration isn’t a pipe dream for lead feet mouthbreathers

I’m trying to escape. Not pivot and perform ballet.

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As much as I want to hate this, I can’t help but smile. Maybe my inner-cynic is finally moving somewhere else (don’t hold your breath).

Members of the Big Four (Anthrax, Megadeth, Metallica, Slayer) played Am I Evil last night, providing a moment that metal fans never thought possible.

[legend has it that Ernest Hemingway wrote a six-word story to win a bar bet — For sale: baby shoes, never worn. leading to the author’s birthday, I’m going to offer a daily post of my own six-word story. readers are encouraged to respond with their own]

You break windows, I frame narratives.

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[click to enlarge]

To commemorate the release of All-Star Superman’s Absolute edition this Fall, Frank Quitely pimped out a new cover. Saving for my own selfish posterity.

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