Johnny Depp’s technological theorizing ass gets capped, so they upload said theorizing ass into a computer. WHAT EVER COULD GO WRONG. Looks gorgeous, can’t tell if I’m intrigued or hate how obvious it seems. Surprise me, Wally Pfister. You’re already titillating my eye-socket orbs.

What do you all think?

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Combining both of these non-news news reports into one Titanic Machination of Non-News. Why? ‘Cause I cannot wait for 2015. It’s going to have HUGE, HUGE fucking RAMIFICATIONS on my life. No! Not my marriage, you idiots. (Thought that’s happening. 6.6.2015. Write it down, boners.) Instead, two of the biggest movies I’ve ever sweated are dropping.

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Servin’ a life-sentence on Spaceship Earth is a tedious, painful, agonizing wonder.

Why’s that? For one thing, there’s the fact that everyone you love will die. Your best friend. Your kid sister. Your longtime mistress. Your high school math teacher.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

Along the way you’re guaranteed to deal with inevitable body-breakdown. Maybe you’ll abuse your body. Maybe somebody else will fuck it up. Even if you think you’re unscathed, the sands of time are wearing away at your flesh-vehicle’s gears. Every single day. Every single moment. Until when, you ask?

Until they’re so smooth that they don’t move shit.

But alas! There’s hope! Even those of us who’re agin’ more like vinegar than wine have a fightin’ chance at experiencin’ glory! Not only are we fortunate enough to have been imbued with consciousnesses, but we get to live in a hyperreal future! Are things royally fucked up? Sure! But we live in times in which anything is possible!

So if you start to feel a chill as an existential shadow lurks over your shoulder, spin around and blast that motherfucker with a science fiction repulsor ray!

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Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! I’m goin’ to show off this week’s strategies for keeping me pleased with existence. I suggest you liven up the party by entering the dance circle that is the comments section.

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Awww yeah, Cap! You take that mask off for me! Hunka hunka burning Patriotism. Seriously though. Thirty-seconds of Winter Soldier action right here. How much new stuff? Prolly pretty much like .0002 seconds. I dun care! It dun matter! Stoked.

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Vision is coming to the Marvel movie universe. By way of Jarvis. Whelp. Looks like the whole Jarvis-goes-Vision-somehow-creates Ultron storyline is gaining plausibility.

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Despite being in the middle of a miserable, underdeveloped, brutally shoehorned love triangle, I enjoyed Evangeline Lilly in that disastrous riot of suck that was the second Hobbit movie. Whew! Holy run-on sentence! So with that in mind, you say she’s up for the female lead in Ant-Man? I say fuck yeah! And it could be Wasp? Double fuck yeah.

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Here’s a steaming batch of Fantastic Four rumors. Emmy Rossum is in the running for Sue Storm. Excellent.  Not only that, but there is another potential female lead in the mix. That of Dr. Doom. Oh the haters are already palpable, but I’m fine with it. Mix up the stagnant mythos I’ve had jammed down my gullet.

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Gnarly as shit! Ed Brubaker is the writer behind The Winter Soldier. Dude came up with the storyline that shall serve as the centerpiece of the second Captain America flick. So it only seems both fair and righteous that the good sir has been granted a cameo in the flick. Where? That’ll come after the jump for you spoilerphobes. Know this, though: if you’ve seen the trailer, you’ve seen Brubaker already.

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Seth Gordon! I don’t really have an opinion on the guy either way. Saw Horrible Bosses. Shrugged. Saw The King of Kong. Loved it. So he’s batting 50/50 in the minuscule “Movies I’ve Seen By Seth Gordon” department. His next shot at blowing my nipples into a rugged mess? The Uncharted movie.

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What is in a hashtag, bros? Brodettes? I ask you. ‘Cause either The Rock is rubbing us gently against the tip of his Green Lantern, or he is trolling the living shit out of us. In an Instagram picture filled with many other words, the hashtag at the end was worth like, a zillion more. Huh?

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