Being a bro means many things. The word has decayed, transmuted, metamorphisized throughout the ages. The term has been passed from one culture to the next, each co-opting the sacred letters for their own means. Those who wield Thu’um have used the word for power, pain, and glory. At its truest essence, being a bro means coming through for another bro in moments of need. Strip away the smell of Milwaukee’s Beast, peel off the layers of Frat Hall grease, and you will find such a truth. So when Johnny Hotsauce said that The Tricky Thing Called Life was keeping him away from this column, I decided to be a bro. Help a bro. Make a bro. For life.

Now I’ll level with you. There are a couple things  I’m better at than Johnny Hotsauce. Eating sixteen pizzas in front of a disgusted family and tee-ball team.  Desperately shitting into a toilet four minutes before I have to teach a class and still making it before the bell rings. Torrents of man-chocolate glossing the ceramic throne, all while I’m counting seconds and checking Tumblr. However, writing a comic books column is where Hotsauce has me bested. By a considerable portion. So I supplicate myself before you folks. Accept my bro-powered offering until his return next week. I know I am not worthy, but I know I am a true bro.

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It’s been a week since I reappeared on the deck of the ship, smiling through the sludge I’d been wading in for far too long.

I was worried about the transition. Captain Pow had every right to be salty, seeing as I’d disappeared without any warning.  Piloting this old war-bird with even the most seasoned of navigators can be a goddamn nightmare, so my absence certainly didn’t help.Whereas I’d anticipated being on the receiving end of a Big-Brother Bitch-Slap, he greeted me with open arms.

The stalwart captain welcoming his prodigal brother.

Since then, the pop-culture seas have been kind to me, revitalizing me after an extended absence. My sealegs are strong, helping me regain my strength through the wonder of muscle memory. And still, I’ve yet to completely return to form. I’m still suffering the residual effects of being lost in that Modern-Life Maelstrom.

Every other nite, my crewmates find me sleep-screaming about memos to read and projects to complete and bills to pay and other such nonsense that crushes spirits.

So how’m I going to overcome my infected blood? How do I enjoy the ride when I know the high Highs are always curbed by low Lows? Well, I’m goin’ to keep readin’ the maps and chartin’ the stars. I’m going to breathe deep the life-giving air found these glorious, treacherous, horrifyingly wondrous astral-seas. I’m goin’ to suck the pulp until its dried and withered and I choke to death on the juice, clutching my throat and smiling all the way.

A couple of weeks ago I was yanking purple-tip to Almost Human’s premiere. It was jazzy, I was jazzed, my underoos were sticky but stern. (What does that even mean?) In the middle of my fluids-flinging, our own incalculably talented J-Hawtsauce pointed out that he had a hard time swallowing the episode orders that network television demanded. The good sir lamented the puffed-up nature that having to bring twenty-four (or so) episodes to bare every season can produce on a show.

At the time I claimed that I didn’t have a problem with what were essentially procedural television shows with a science-fiction tinge. After all, I love the X-Files, Fringe titillates me, and since I’m lazy and don’t feel like thinking I’ll nominate Battlestar Galactica as (a stretch of) an example.

Monsters of the week episodes rule! (Sort of.)

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Welcome, friend-os, to another installment of BTFC, the #1 stop to find the best and brightest comic releases each week.  Not #1?  Did I make your top 10, at least?  No matter.  What DOES matter is that we’ve got a week chock full of interesting releases, and if you hit the jump you can check those out AND be privy to my insane Marvel U conspiracy theories.  It’s a win-win for everyone.

Check out all the new releases HERE and remember to hit up the comments section and mention the floppies that made your pull list but perhaps missed my mentioning.  See you inside!

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Holy smokes.

It’s been a long goddamn while, but I’ve finally managed to find my way back to Spaceship OL. What’s been keepin’ me? Why’s Caff-Pow been forced to man the wheel without my navigational assistance? Well, we were pushing the `ole Nerd-Bird through some specially turbulent space-waters and I went to check on the chimp cages. In the process, I fell overboard.

Yes, I’d been drinkin’.

Anyways, I ended up getting sucked into an Ennui Vortex and was propelled beyond my control through some of the vilest scenarios of my entire existence. There were Responsibility Phantoms and Work Monsters and Accountability Ghouls. Hell, at one point I floated through a strait that saw the Stress-Scylla on one side and the Overtime-Charybdis on the other.

It was terrible!

But lo! and behold! I survived! Here I am! The one and only Rendar Frankenstein, hack-writer extraordinaire, in the digital-flesh! And you’d better believe I’m here for some haphazard word-slingin’! So let’s shuffle off the stains of yesterday and strap on our immortal foils! After all, this is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, the spot for sharing ideas about actualizing spiritual potential! How do we survive the onslaught of everyday malaise?

First, I’m goin’ to run you through some of the keys I’m using to unlock my mind. Then, you hit up the comments section and share the strategies you’ll be using to break open your idea-doors!

C’mon!

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“On my signal, unleash Hell.”

So this is why last week was so dry, and why pull lists were weak – the industry was gearing up for the holiday season and the Black Friday LCS sales!  This week sees a thunderous ton of books dropping into our laps.  Every book that normally gets a “Omega Level Pick of the Week” all come out this week.  Huge events reach their conclusion.  Exciting new books drop to replace them.  Superman celebrates his 75^th Anniversary.  Your wallets groan, your credit cards gnash their teeth, gift cards jump to their death.  So put your bibs on kids, this is the meal before your Thanksgiving meal.  Don’t gorge yourself, the trick is pacing – and the helpings are plenty.

Check out all the new releases HERE, and give your LCS a visit to see if they are offering any cool sales for the holiday season!

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Hello friends. Welcome aboard the Mother-Ship. Adopt your seat of choice. Notice how the syntho-foam molds itself perfectly to your buttocks. And — And! — should you telepathically wish it, begins to invade said buttocks. Go ahead. We didn’t spend all the money on the syntho-foam for nothing. We ain’t judging.Once you’re settled, pull the visors over your retinas and ingest this forthcoming list. The list? A drug-fueled (specifically antihistamines) delineation of the things I’m enjoying this week. Correlate the list within your rotting, offensive organic dome-piece. Whilst, of course, writhing against the synto-foam’s pseudo-phallus. Then when you’re done, hit the comments section with your own list of enjoyments.

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So apparently I caused a commotion on Spaceship OL this morning.  Caff would have you believe I ruined two deck levels, and that a third will need at the very least a scrubdown and new paint job.  Pluto claims I ate his Great American Novel.  The Dude says the munitions locker was ejected into space.  I remember none of this, but I KNOW that I woke up, sobbing, karate chopping two of the ship’s Oxygen Garden Bots, while the crewmembers looked on in horror.

“WHAT – THE – SHIT – MAN?!?!”  Caffeine asked, not politely, if I may say.  The answer came to mind quickly, it was the ONLY thing on my mind.

“The pull list this week.  It’s got hardly anything for me.  I don’t know what to do!”   I received a wall of blank stares, and after a moments hesitation, Caff offered his advice.

“Are you kidding me, bro?  Just look in the archives for some stuff you might have missed.  And get this shit cleaned up.”

That Caff-Pow is a lifesaver.  Hit the jump to see what I found, and for god sakes, if you have any recommendations, please let us know.  I think my sanity depends on it.

All this week’s releases can be found HERE.

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Hey friends. Straight-up static here on Space-Ship Omega. My life has been crazy lately. Frenzy. Frenzied! Busy. And all this madness taken me away from the controls. What about the rest of the crew? Great question. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Rendar Frankenstein has left the ship. Yup. Quietly departed during a movie night. Whilst you were all entertained by the Team Omega’s sweded version of They Live, Frankenstein grabbed a null-grav suit and fluttered away to a local exoplanet. Pluto? Staring in the mirror puffing his bubble pipe while blathering about the impermanence of pop culture references and stroking his non-existent beard. The Dude? Johnny Hotsauce? An arm wrestling match that’s been going on for nineteen days. Bateman? Triple bypass.

Just me. And you. Aboard the Space-Boat. Here is what I’m using to kill my loneliness.

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Welcome back, Omega Level Mutants!  This week is a pretty special one for fans of homo sapien superior, as those of who’ve evolved that extra special chromosome celebrate their fiftieth anniversary this month, courtesy of Marvel’s X-Men Gold #1, an issue that brings back X-Men from throughout the years, and the creators who made them famous!  As our own tribute, the column this week is dedicated to chatting up our favorite X-things: characters, writers, artists, squads, villains, movies, etc.  So step inside and lets discuss those folks that have been uncanny, astonishing, amazing, ultimate, and giant-sized – the X-Men!

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