[face of a franchise presents two individuals that’ve fulfilled the same role. your task — choose the better of the two and defend your choice in the rancor pit that is the comments section]

Judith Hoag v. Paige Turco

In the first TMNT flick, Judith Hoag portrayed April O’Neil as charming, headstrong, and fierce. In the subsequent installments of the trilogy, Paige Turco came across as a paint-by-numbers reporter…but looked damn fine.

So how about it – who is the real April O’Neil?

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Ernest paced back and forth, contemplating whether or not he should go through with it. A Pulitzer and a Nobel Prize in Literature, and yet he had to go to great lengths to get his latest manuscript into the pages of Life Magazine. As he thought about this fact, he coldly nodded his head.

“The world has turned its back on me — just as I knew it would.”

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Last week, I described Fantastic Four #588 as one of the emotionally charged comics I’ve ever read, a single issue that pulls on the heartstrings in ways that most superhero books just don’t. Ever. Moreover, I found the book to be an especially affective insight into the loss of a loved one because of its omission of narration, dialogue, and exposition. Instead, the reader must tacitly absorb the death of Johnny Storm through Nick Dragotta’s art.

I was so impressed by Dragotta’s work that I visited his website, hoping to learn more. And while his blog is definitely worth checking out, it just wasn’t enough for me. Ravenous, I decided to ask him for an interview. To my delight, he obliged.

What follows are Nick Dragotta’s incredibly candid, insightful, and entertaining answers to my buffoonish questions. More than just a skilled artist (and he definitely is), Dragotta proves to be a down-to-earth chum and all-around decent human being.

And he’s also a fan of Anderson Silva, which is sure to earn him points in Caffeine Powered’s book. Keep Reading »

[photo by x-ray delta one]

Oh how the time flies! Look, there it goes again! Lord Linear has jumped into his One-Way Rider and just keeps cruisin’ along, never deviating or allowing for honest reflection! BLAST! If only some time-hoppin’ bandit, a charming rogue with a proclivity for anachronism, could save us! If only…

Welcome, my babies, to the Monday Morning Commute! This is the spot where we share our plans for the week – not the shackles of Work/Eat/Sleep/Repeat, but the open fields of pop culture and entertainment to which we’ll flee. First I’ll let you traverse my caffeine-addled mindscape, and then you hit up the comments and grant me access to those neurons of yours that still fire.

Let’s do this.

–-

Rockin’ / BTBAM – Specular Reflection (Teaser)

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Today I watched a sick Jack Kirby documentary by Paul G Baker. Some of comics most well-known creators weigh in on the man who far too often resides in the shadow of Stan Lee. If you have any interest in the history of comics, superheroes, or the far-reaching effects one man can have on a medium, watch this feature.

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[face of a franchise presents two individuals that’ve fulfilled the same role. your task — choose the better of the two and defend your choice in the rancor pit that is the comments section]

William Shatner v. Chris Pine.

Whattaya think? Is Shatner a shoe-in because he’s the original urbane explorer of space? Or does Chris Pine’s reimagined Kirk, the Solo-meets-Skywalker take on the Trek universe, go places his predecessor simply couldn’t?

Let the games begin.

[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]

At this point, it’s old news: Johnny Storm bit the dust. All that remains of the Human Torch are embers, flickering reminders of a hero that lit up the Marvel Universe for the better part of fifty years. Dedicated readers of OL know that both my brother and I have been wholly enamored of Jonathan Hickman’s Fantastic Four epic. In addition to covering nearly every Hickman-penned issue, I sang praises for The Last Stand of Johnny Storm and then Caffeine Powered offered his own pontification.

So at this point, one has to wonder: can anything else be said?

In reading what is being billed as the final issue of Fantastic Four, it’s clear that Hickman has nothing else to say.

But he’s got plenty to show.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

Wednesday morning.

Daryl woke up dizzy and thirsty, but he wasn’t convinced that he could blame it on the Colt 45. No, Daryl remembered that by the time he had come home and gotten into bed he had been sober. Practically. But trying to stand up, he couldn’t shake off his light head and tight chest.

“Why’re my damn lungs on fire?”

And then the recollection. Cigarettes and incense and smoke. He had been totally absorbed. Yes, Daryl now saw images of the mystic who had shown him…well, he knew what she had shown him, but it was too early to start trying to figure out what it meant.

“Hiya there, kiddo!” interjected Gramps, just in time to prevent the dangerous heavy thinking that sometimes follows an evening of heavy drinking. Easing his way through the threshold, Clark moved towards his favorite grandchild. “From the looks of it, I’d guess that someone had a good time last night!” The elder statesman of the Millar tribe slapped his grandson on the shoulder, laughing and remembering his own youthful indiscretions. “I hope she was worth it — and if I know you, I’m sure she was!”

“Nah, Gramps, nothing like that — it was a night out with the boys.” Sitting back down on the edge of his bed, Daryl shot a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I thought I had heard something about you taking out a lady?”

Remembering his plans for the evening, Daryl reassured himself. “Oh yeah! I’m taking Vanessa out tonight!”

Gramps inquired, with a glimmer in his eyes of a man who knows, “And what is it that you’re planning on doing with this Vanessa?”

“Well, I think we’re going to head to the movies.”

“Good idea — nice and dark, you can really make your move in a theater!”

“Gramps!”

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[The following is a true piece of fiction]

My friend Brad is a strange guy. To say the least. You can tell him apart from the rest of the pack because of his occasional vacations to the psych farm and his penchant for wearing sweatpants in the summer. Also, I can’t recall a time in which we hung out and he didn’t carry around a two-liter bottle of Dr. Pepper.   Hell, he’d always offer those present the chance to take a swig, but with the way he slobbers you’d have to be an idiot to oblige.

Anyways, my friend distinguished himself yet again last week as we were hanging out at Chuck E. Cheese. See, Brad’s actually quite well-off because he inherited his uncle’s entire fortune. Uncle Tommy made his money in 1980’s pornography and 1990’s cocaine, and Brad was the only family member who’d give him the time of day. Whereas most of the relatives scorned Tommy for his professional choices, Brad didn’t have any problems with coke snortin’ whores. So when Tommy croaked, Brad became a millionaire. Feeling as though accepting his uncle’s inheritance would cheapen their relationship, Brad has vowed to donate $1,000 once a week.

So every Thursday, Brad and I go to a Chuck E. Cheese with two hundred five-dollar bills. Once there, we wade through the ball pit and deposit the cash at the bottom. We then sit back and watch as the money is discovered. Some weeks it takes hours for all the cash to leave, each paper-archaeologist keeping mum about their findings. Other weeks, well…let’s just say that we’ve seen more than a few fist fights break out.

It’s glorious.

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[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction.   Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]

October 22^nd, 1955

Mother,
In spite of my usual tendencies, I hope to keep this letter brief. Although I’d love to renew a regular correspondence with you, I understand that some of my decisions have led you to develop a coldness toward me. This troubles me deeply, but you are entitled to your opinions — which you have been more than willing to share and less than willing to have challenged — and I suppose that I must respect that. But I want you to know that should you ever want to open a true line of communication, in which we can both have our ideas entertained, I will be receptive.

And so, pretenses and formalities aside, here it is: I married Lukas. He proposed to me and a week later we became husband and wife. Neither of us could be more in love, and I have never felt better about the future. If you find any solace in all of this, I pray that it is in the fact that your only daughter has finally overcome years of tragedy and turmoil to reclaim her life as a joyous celebration. At the very least, however, you can rest assured that Lukas and I are no longer “living in sin.”

While I do not owe you any sort of explanation, I’d feel remiss if I never presented it before you clearly in writing (instead of trying to talk while simply being shouted over and waved away). For the last time — Lukas Lang is a good man. Yes, he fought in World War II. For Germany.

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