This is a moment of zen for myself. A moment of clarity that I really need to clench down on.   I need to recall that no matter how mediocre and blah Superman Returns was, Singer’s meh-core movie never, ever came near the stunning shitstorm that Tim Burton’s rendition of Clark Kent would have been. Like, seriously. Just consider these pictures of the emo kid abortion suit that he would have suited Superman up in.

Fuck Tim Burton. I hope we’re all approaching a moment when he can agree, unequivocally that he sucks. Maybe we’ll never agree on whether he’s always sucked. Some people think so, but I actually enjoyed a lot of his flicks. But after his last few movies, it’s obvious: the dude isn’t even trying anymore. Throw Johnny Depp acting like a complete zany douche, mix with a generic Elfman soundtrack, and a dash of his annoying partner Helena Bonham Carter, and you’ve got a zillion dollar movie and a Hot Topic line of clothing for all the misunderstood kids to enjoy.

Fuck Tim Burton. Hit the jump to see his Superman costume that can also go fuck itself.

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Alright, check this shit out! First and probably last ever, Dexter live-blog! Well, it’s not coming to you live, but I’m going to squeeze this one out as the episode progresses. No idea how it’ll come out, but like I said to Tommy Parker in gym class all those years ago, let’s experiment! Kid decked me. Don’t tell my girlfriend. So if you’ve ever accurately described my Re-Ups as rushed, poorly edited, or off the cuff, you’re about to be correct a thousand times over.

Oh great, it’s the recap. Have you ever noticed how fucking long the recaps are? Between the intro, the recap, and the early ending time, I’m pretty sure Dexter episodes are only thirty minutes long. Frankly, if they cut out everything involving Angel and Maria, and Quinn, and Deb, and the episode was only ten minutes, I’d consider it a fair trade.

Everything is Illumentated? Ha! Oh great, Dexter monologue. Yeah, I get it. You’re complicated, bro. You’re a monster, and you’re upset. And stuff.

I have to say that I’m fairly depressed about the dissolution of Dexter’s family. It was a neat twist to the serial killer dynamic. And while inevitable, I’ve really been wondering the direction the show is going to take from thereon in. So far everything feels pretty fucking directionless.

Really, Dexter? Everything seems in its right place? Manageable? It’s great to know that it only took your wife getting gutted for that to occur. I’m glad to know that you can breathe easy now, given that your life is in shambles, and your kid doubles as a fucking coy device for furthering your blood rage.

Oh, are they going double narrative here? Lumen and Dexter both preparing for a kill that evening? In case you weren’t paying attention, Lumen is a Dexter analog, or something of that shit. You probably noticed that last episode when Morgan said over and over again, “You don’t know where this road leads! Roar! Roar! Don’t kill people. Especially innocent people. Like me! Have you seen my kid? He’s adorable! I use him to track down pederasts, and serial killers!

Hug him!

This live blogging shit is exciting! My tits are hard. Also, it gives me something to do when LaGuerta and Angel argue. Jesus Christ, this entire storyline is a nightmare. Angel is saying really hurtful things, but that’s okay, because he can slam a door and that’s pretty much like, telling Maria to go fuck herself. Her and her beautiful booty. Angel dude, you need some therapy. Or to go back to screwing hookers.

Oh, it’s that guy that apparently was Robocop. And he’s being really cute to Deb. But he’s got a good point, Pock Marked McGee, Quinn, is boning the sister of the guy he has a vendetta against. Not the brightest plan ever, but hey, when you absolutely have to bone the emaciated, curveless, potty-mouthed chick in your department, who cares who she’s related to? Get some!

What is this dog shit with Harrison cutely echoing his father’s behavior? Last week’s insipid twist that he’s somehow scratching other kids, and now Dexter is hearing him say “Die, Die!” Get the fuck out of here too, if you want to say that Dexter is projecting his own anxieties onto his kid.

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[Source Loïc Zimmermann via Gamefreaks]

[OCTOBERFEAST is the greatest celebration of the year, a revelry dedicated to pop-culture’s most nutritious Halloween detritus. Plastic screams and artificial sweeteners have never been more bountiful. In the old country, villagers refer to the extended party as Satan’s Snacktime]

If you’re reading this, you’ve survived long enough to reach the final day of OCTOBERFEAST. Congratulations. I can’t even tell you how many celebrants I’ve seen collapse halfway through, proving themselves too faint of heart to endure the satanic shindig. Terror-induced heart attack, alcohol poisoning, spontaneous combustion, sugar-coma – a ticket to this event also grants admission to death by about ninety-nine different methods.

But here we are – alive and demented as ever on Halloween! This day brings us the concluding activity, an event that anyone with a heart (even a black one) should enjoy taking part in. Today, for a few hours, we reverse the relationship between the dominated and the dominating. The powerless become empowered. The ruling class elite must answer to the disenfranchised. And in the process, boatloads of candy are consumed.

Tonight’s featured enterprise is, of course, trick or treating.

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[OCTOBERFEAST is the greatest celebration of the year, a revelry dedicated to pop-culture’s most nutritious Halloween detritus. Plastic screams and artificial sweeteners have never been more bountiful. In the old country, villagers refer to the extended party as Satan’s Snacktime]

It is with the utmost respect and admiration that I present the following declaration:

Ray Bradbury is the official writer laureate of OCTOBERFEAST. The awarding of this position to Mr. Bradbury shouldn’t shock or surprise a single soul, as his work is the printed embodiment of the annual fright-festival. The bizarre, the ghastly, and the speculative synergize to convey a sense of wonder and possibility.

This year’s gala features Ray Bradbury’s The October Country.

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Just read about this and wanted to share.

Apparently in 1987, someone wearing a Max Headroom mask pirated a Chicago-area TV signal and interrupted the regularly scheduled broadcast. The chaos that ensued can be found below. I can’t articulate why, but I love it.

I used to love life.

For a time, I hated life. I became cynical, dwelling only on what was wrong. Reveling in negativity. Perpetuating my own bleak outlook and poor attitude.

Then I came the closest I’ve ever come again to dying.

I now love life again. Perhaps more than I ever had previously. Today is Friday – as such, I’m going to celebrate my brief time on the ride with a beer.

Please join me.

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[OCTOBERFEAST is the greatest celebration of the year, a revelry dedicated to pop-culture’s most nutritious Halloween detritus. Plastic screams and artificial sweeteners have never been more bountiful. In the old country, villagers refer to the extended party as Satan’s Snacktime]

There is no doubt in my mind that Devin Townsend is a genuine, living, flesh-and-blood hero. The man was discovered by Steve Vai and sang on one of his records. He then went on to front Strapping Young Lad, a band whose heaviness is often imitated but never recreated. And his solo records include some of the most inspiring art I’ve ever experienced.

In short – HevyDevy is the goddamn man.

As a bit of a benevolent screwball, Devin Townsend has generated plenty of material that could make its way into OL’s annual celebration of undead-pulp-malarky. For a time, it appeared as though Ziltoid the Omniscient was going to stop by OCTOBERFEAST but he changed his mind when I told him that we weren’t serving coffee, only beer and soda. Oh well – his loss!

Luckily, a suitable replacement has emerged!

To support the Devin Townsend Band’s Synchestra, a video was filmed for the track Vampira. I’m almost positive that the song has nothing to do with Halloween, goblins or even the horror-icon after whom it was named. However, this didn’t stop the video from taking the form of a live-action Vault of Horror adaptation.

Set within the panels of a comic book, Vampira shows Devin Townsend (in the same devil costume worn in Problem Child) rocking out with his band of skeleton-men. As the troupe shred inside of a cemetery, they dance about with a fearlessness only possessed by evil musicians. And unlike the Misfits, these guys actually tear shit up.

Also worth noting is the vampire babe that shows up. She’s not a ten or anything, but for a member of the undead (and a star in a Devin Townsend video) she’s worth a look. Her inclusion can probably be attributed to the desire to include a title character. Whatever, I’ll take it.

It’s the Friday of OCTOBERFEAST. Pop on Vampira, tap your toes, and get ready for the most wicked weekend of them all.

Every cosmonaut geek knows one thing: you can’t go a month or two without a new story about water on Mars. Or life. Microbes and water. Every month, coming atcha courtesy of our favorite Red Planet. This time, the OH MY GOD WATER ON MARS storyline revolves around the Spirit Rover, and its dumb ass getting stuck in Mars’ soil. Dost it drag up some interesting bullshit whilst stuck there? Why, just maybe!

io9:

For the past year and a half, Spirit has been stuck at a Martian site called Troy, where the rover’s wheel broke through a crust and churned into soft sand. But it hasn’t sat completely idle. NASA researchers have used Spirit’s downtime to investigate the soil at Troy, and have found the site may see liquid water during certain climate cycles.

Near the soil’s surface sit relatively insoluble minerals, which the researchers believe to be hematite, silica and gypsum. Further down in the soil are ferric sulfates, more soluble minerals that the researchers speculate were carried down in the soil by liquid water. None of the minerals are exposed at the surface despite the wind constantly stripping and altering the landscape, which indicates that the minerals were carried down relatively recently and continuously, with the ferric sulfates being carried down further than the less soluble minerals.

Interesting? Sure. Sure? Sure! I’m waiting for the day the US government finally unveils the fact that it found artifacts from a fallen human civilization. You know, the one that made it to Mars, only to have their existence on Earth obscured from history by the fact that they were wiped out by a prehistoric robot uprising. Clearly, they colonized Mars, and but were then wiped out again. By a robotic uprising.

Courtesy of io9 comes clearly the best Halloween costume ever. Fucking ever. Oh, it’s just a talking, moving Krang outfit. You know here at Omega Level we love us some Krang. This son of a bitch was fashioned by Melissa Dunphy for her husband, and it is nothing short of mind-boggling and awesome. Dunphy, you are a lucky lad to have her, and Mrs. Dunphy, you are talented beyond words.

Happy fucking Halloween.

Hit the jump to watch this motherfucker in action.

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