Game of Thrones‘ season three premiere was the perfect storm for illegal downloads. You had a hot show, on a bullshit service that people don’t want to pay for. You also had a company whose platform to stream it, HBO GO, keeled over and died during the premiere. So I’m not surprised at all that the thing is being downloaded like hot cakes. Careful though, folks. The HBO Comcast Cyber Ninjas have been known to arrive at one’s door, slicing them from stem to seed (is that even a phrase?) for daring to cajole their shows out of the inter-ether and onto their hard drives.

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Oh sweet baby Jesus, Rian Johnson is working on a cyberpunk script. This douchebag (hi!) and cyberpunk go together like latex bondage porn and autoerotic asphyxiation. I am literally hardened at every point on my body where blood can flow to just thinking about this. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

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Madness strikes! Dark Horse is adapting the first script for Uncle George’s Star Wars. The entire enterprise is the result of hard drugs, lizard fetishes, and terrible plots. I cannot wait to buy this.

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Welcome back to one of the most exciting and visually-astounding shows on television. The third season of Game of Thrones, based (mostly) on Martin’s third novel in the Song of Ice and Fire fantasy series, A Storm of Swords, began last night on HBO.

The cinematographers on the show have a lot of fun with framing, shot direction and imagery; why shouldn’t we as well?  The film student in me from a decade ago still likes to assert itself, and Thrones is a show worth recapping through its powerful imagery. There are enough recaps on the net doing blow-by-blows, so hopefully, we can dig a little deeper here and tackle things from a different angle.

Let’s do it.

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I’m sorry that I continually puke up horrible titles. Do you know how many I’ve written since OL began? Literally thousands. All of it has come together to coalesce into an unrelenting spike in my proverbial eye. The jarring white-hot lightning pain of banality is only momentarily soothed when I produce a pun so bad, so very bad, that I laugh at the horror.

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April Fool’s Day fucking sucks. Yeah, Google. You’re brilliant. Even more brilliant is Random Guy X on your Facebook feed. However, the douchebags behind This Is The End have produced something for the day that isn’t completely loathsome. It’s a new trailer for the flick, riffing on the idea of a sequel to We Get It Rogen, You Like Weed. Why do I float the pass? ‘Cause it’s actually promoting a real product and shit. Am I being arbitrary? Probably.

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Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon is everything a science-fiction heavy metal asshole like myself wants in life. It appears to be all of the Far Cry 3 that blew my asshole out, wrapped around a delicious sci-fi 1980s motif. If this is some sort of April Fool’s joke, someone is getting punched right in the fucking neck. We’re talking crushed something-suches in their spinal column and shit.

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Remember how last week I was all excited for life? This week is the glorious inversion of such a feeling. A viscous ladling of ennui is rattling around my belly, daring me to frown. There isn’t so much a reason for me to be sad, rather I’m just like “oh hey, I exist.” Eh, what can you do. Some weeks are more thrilling than others. So I turn to you, dare readers, in this newest of Monday Morning Commutes. Tell me what you’re enjoying this week. Inspire me. I beseech thee. And thee. And thee.

Hit the jump for my tepid chocies for the next seven days.

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Glory, glory, glory unto the highest! Actually, that shit may have been more germane yesterday. Anyhoo, we should be thankful to something. Why? We should give thanks and praise because Jeff Lemire’s next mini-series finally has a release date. Fuck yeah.

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