Supergod #2

I know what you’re thinking, “Ian, why are you recommending the second issue of Supergod, despite the fact that you haven’t even read the first one because it sold out too quickly? Is it perhaps because you’d take great pleasure in sniffing Warren Ellis’ used toilet paper?”

And the answer is invariably, of course!

More seriously though, I’ve been digging on the concept of Supergod since it was announced back in the middle of the summer. Let me try and sell it to you by quoting Lord Ellis himself on the premise of the title:

“SUPERGOD: praying to be saved by a man who can fly will get you killed.”

In short, it’s about man creating gods who then destroy the world. It’s morbid, and interesting, and it deals with all sorts of teleological shit that gets my philosophical boner rising. And oh yeah, it’s by Warren Ellis.

Siege: The Cabal

In case you were wondering what Marvel was going to do next to milk your comic prostrate for every last dollar, it’s the super megaevent, SIEGE. After seventeen years of Dark Reign, Norman Osborn plans on taking down Asgard. Good luck with that dude. But nonetheless. Since you cannot simply start MEGAEVENTS anymore without hyping it up with an Issue #0, and thirteen preludes, Marvel is giving us Siege: The Cabal. Apparently The Dude Formerly Known As Green Goblin throws down with Dr. Doom and the rest of the dillholes he aligned himself with. Smash, kapow and crap.

I’m actually sort of excited for Siege, just because it’s going to be penciled by Olivier Coipel, and I always am curious to the point of wasting money. I’m going to assume that The Cabal is just a quick money grab before the main event, but I am also a cynical asshole. How about you buy it, and if it doesn’t suck, I’ll borrow it.

Also dropping in the Marvel-verse is the fourth issue of The Marvels Project. I feel sort of shitty for shying away from this mini-series. It’s by Brubaker and Epting, who generally rock my socks. But I don’t have much interest in getting into yet another Origin of the Marvel storyline. I picked up the first issue, and never got through it. It’s wilting away sadly in some magazine rack in my house. I’m probably a true douche. And then there’s Fall of the Hulks, which is serving only to remind me that the Hulk and like his Hulk son or something still exist.

Seriously, the Red Hulk is still running around, and from what I’ve been told, people still don’t know who it is. I hope this shit doesn’t go on longer than wondering what GAMBIT’S DARK SECRET was back in the mid-90’s Hey Gambit, how do you feel about the Red Hulk?

Sacre Bleu! Mon Cheri! Mon Ami! Kinetic Playing Cards! Shitty 1990’s character! Just tell us, already!

Bro, I couldn’t agree more.

Blackest Night: The Flash #1

I know that I’m totally being hypocritical when I tell you I’m amped for this shit. I mean, I prattle off endless paragraphs about how I hate comic book events, and their spin-offs and shitty infiltration of all the regular books. And here I am, recommending a Blackest Night title? Calm down, let me explain yourself! Then you can point out the fact that I’m a douchebag.

The thing that I’ve liked about Blackest Night is that it’s focused almost exclusively on Barry Allen as the hero of the story. Thematically it makes sense, since he is the ultimate dude to have escaped death. You can take it that way, or reason that his resurrection was a cheap gimmick. Either way, he’s back. It’s nice to see an event that doesn’t involve Superman and his perpetual existential crisis, or Batman detecting shit. And with this spin-off, we get to see more of that goodness, and a fucking zombie flash!

Apparently Barry Allen’s archenemy is the Reverse Flash. I have no idea what the fuck that means, I suck at DC lore. Does he like, move really slowly? He is the reverse after all. I have no idea. But he’s back. And I have faith that Geoff Johns and his boy Scott Kolins can rip off something interesting. Flash fanboys speak of the duo in hushed whispers of reverence. I have only recently begun to appreciate the Flasher, but I am going to take them at their word.

DC is also dropping Superman World Of New Krypton #10 which sees Clark being tried for murder. I’m not down with Superman rocking out on New Krypton, but I can tell those tools one thing: Homeboy Kent didn’t murder anyone. He’s not that sort of guy. Alright? He loves his Ma and Pa and shit. I know this because we’re reminded every couple of months of this, and also of the fact that he will forever now look like Christopher Reeves. Speaking of which, and this would be tight, why don’t they resurrect Christopher Reeves in Blackest Night?

Just sayin’, cross-promotion.

Mark Millar is a straight-up pimp. And if you’re worth your weight as a Marvel fanboy, or even a lover of cape titles, you read his Ultimates back in the day. If you’re not yet reading his return to the Ultimate universe in Ultimate Avengers, it’s a problem you should correct as soon as possible. It’s slick, Hollywood action perfected on the panel.

Seriously, you owe it yourself to read it.

What do I need to fucking say? Anything. I SAY NO. Final Fantasy XIII marches closer, and closer. And day by day, my balls tingle a little bit more. I’m going to be vibrating through my futon when I finally crack this bitch open. BELIEVE. Hit the jump for the PS3 rendition.

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I fucking love Dexter this season. Every episode has made my asshole pucker with tension. Butt cheeks clenched, I work my way through the episode wondering what the hell could happen next. There’s a multitude of things that occurred in this episode that had be thinking, “I would never ever fucking do that in a million years.” I suppose that’s why this shit is television, and not filled with mundane people like myself.

For starters, the dude Steven or whatever that was kidnapped by Trinity was the mouthiest little son of a bitch ever. I don’t know if it’s because you only learn kidnapping protocol as you get older, but I don’t suggest yelling at the dude who drugged you and stuck you in a van. That said, I would be in the corner crying and blowing snot bubbles while he sat there rocking his train set.

I have to give props to the Trinity Killer for being continually more creepy as the season has gone on. The dude has mastered the creep equation. I’m going to be pretty bummed out when Trinity is no longer on the show. The dude has stormed onto the cast bare-assed and solidified himself as a key character. Where the hell do they go from here?

Probably downhill.

The second thing that I would never do is let my father know that I’m onto him being a serial killer. I’m just saying. If my Dad was carving up ladies and bludgeoning dudes for thirty years, I’m taking that shit to the grave. Or at the most, to the authorities. But yeah, I’m not going to meet him in a dingy fucking parking garage. This was another scene where I could feel my testicles rescinding into my upper bowels from fright. I was waiting for Trinity to all choke the bitch out or something.

She may be goin’ to jail, but having Quinn and shit show up definitely saved her from shedding the ole’ mortal coil.

And finally, I wouldn’t be resentful of my detective partner if they found out that I was dating a murderer. Seriously Quinn, what’s your fucking deal, bro? I try to enjoy your presence on the show, despite your man-titties and the fact that you’re trying to bring my boy Dexter down. But now you cop an attitude with Deb? Like, really?

I think you’re ignoring the fact that Christine was just banging you to get close to the Trinity investigation. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was a sexy lady. But you were used bro, and judging from the way you parade around those shitty night clubs, it was probably some sort of karmic uppercut.

I could accept you being bummed out, you know, finding out that you date a murderer, who also happens to be the daughter of a serial killer. That’s cool. But all cheesed off at Deborah because she cracked a case? Confounding!

This just in dickheads! You’re probably bloated and hungover from a steady diet of carbohydrates and consumerism from the past Thanksgiving weekend. Yeah, me too. While I don’t regret socking the elderly woman in the tits because she took the fucking last copy of Wii Fitness Masturbate Your Way To Toned Arms, I never expected her to die on the spot. And therefore, this cell is lonely and cold, but I’m glad that the local Starbucks next to the police station has free WiFi and they’ve let me use my iPhone.

LOL JK.

Monday Morning Commute. Every Monday I’m going to detail the various things I’m either currently or will be watching, reading, playing, and listening to in the next seven days. It’s Monday. You’ve got a long week of school, work, or compulsive masturbation to get through. Tell me the arts that you’re indulging in, to stave off suicide.

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Not only is it Friday, but it’s the Friday after Thanksgiving. As such, there are certain expectations to be fulfilled — specifically, the eating of leftovers and the continued consumption of alcohol. Starting with a hearty bowl of stuffing for breakfast, I’ve made sure to eat something at every opportunity, paying special attention to desserts. More than content with my gorging, I really wanted to find a good brew for the review.

Therefore, I made sure to not rush through the weekly process of beer-searching. I took my time at the store, actually reading labels and trying to figure just what type of beverage I’d want to drink. My first inclination was to find some sort of coffee/espresso based lager; however, the staff informed me that such a product was not stocked and I was therefore SOL. Resolved to find something tasty, I continued the quest.

I then remembered that today marks the first day of the Christmas Season: “A holiday-brew will do,” I bellowed in Seuss-mimicry, “but how to pick a drink that’s sick?” Again, I wanted to be levelheaded about this decision, not jumping at the first six-pack with clever packaging.

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Alright, I’m really fucking excited for Ninja Assassin. For months I’ve been anticipating a mindless bloody explosion of guts and ninja stars. Then poor reviews started coming in, and because I’m impressionable, stupid, and spaghetti-spined, I began to panic. Then I was like, wait a second. Wait, let’s just take a look at these reviews.

I began to see that all the quotes delineating just why the movie is so poor…are exactly the reasons I want to see the fucking movie! Now, if you don’t like the various things I’m expecting: ultra violence, decapitations, ludicrous amounts of blood splattering everywhere, I can understand why you wouldn’t like it. But I mean, shouldn’t context count for anything?

When you evaluate a movie, do you take into account intent, context, and audience? I’m guessing no. And furthermore, I’m not sure if you should. A different debate, for a different day. But if you’re a fucking psychopath fanboy like me, check out these review snippets, culled from Rotten Tomatoes. Keep in mind these are all from negative reviews.

The gory decapitations and gushing blood – imagine filling a million balloons with cherry Kool-Aid and using them in a water-balloon fight – turn the action scenes into an indistinguishable sea of red.

Awesome.

Working with screenwriters Matthew Sand and J. Michael Straczynski (from an original story by Sand), McTeigue provides enough wire-fu fights and stylish gore to please the fan boys who expect ample bloodletting from an R-rated action movie.

Steven Ramos, Boxoffice Magazine

Exactly, dickhead.

As I left the theater, I found that my thumbs ached. I hadn’t realized that, during certain parts of the movie, I was pressing imaginary buttons as if trying to control some video game.

Bob Bloom, Journal and Courier

BOB, you’re so hilarious dude. The “I thought I was watching a video game” line isn’t stale as fuck and overused. You’re a pioneer of hilarity and incisive wit.

This one is simply a diverting, uncommonly violent action flick. No need for an extended critical postmortem.

Stephen Cole, Globe and Mail

Exactly. Again, I suppose if you don’t dig these things, I don’t blame you for not enjoying it. But what I have gleamed from these review snippets, because my generation doesn’t have the attention span to read entire reviews, is that these people seem genuinely shocked at what the movie contained. Were you expecting something other than super violence and madness on celluloid? Did you see the trailers? I ask this, because there are positive reviews that contain the same sort of content as the negative ones. Except, these people fucking get it:

This movie knows exactly what it is: Gonzo silliness about bodies turned into human salsa.

Kyle Smith, New York Post

I’m seeing this movie tomorrow night, on what is probably going to be a belly filled with turkey and potatoes. I hope the camera whirls so quickly and the violence is so extreme that I vomit a torrent of hot, mushy protein particles and gravy onto someone’s head in the row in front of me.

I’m fucking stoked.

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This is not the cosplay winner.

Yeah, it’s been like a fucking week since I mentioned Bayonetta. What the hell is going on? I fucked up. I’m sorry. Okay?

I wish I could have been brought back to one of my favorite subjects with good news. Nope. Recently Sega announced the winner of the contest they ran in conjunction with Maxim to find their Bayonetta lookalike winner. She sucks. It’s insulting. Peep it:

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I dug out my copy of Ratchet and Clank: A Crack in Time yesterday. It had been sitting lonely on my subwoofer, giving me the stink-eye since the end of October. With a crazy deluge of bonerfying titles, or probably more correctly my fiend-like addiction to MW2, I hadn’t gotten around to playing much of it. It wasn’t out of dislike, but for some reason I was gravitating more towards getting owned by 11 year-olds or playing through Mass Effect for the three-thousandth time.

This game is dope, if R&C is your thing. R&C is a sturdy little franchise. It doesn’t do anything too radical from installment to installment for the most part, but it consistently brings it. You have the typical high-quality gameplay, an amusing storyline that I always forget ten seconds after finishing it, and impressive graphics.

So, whatever. I cracked this bitch open. It’s good, it’s amusing. It gets the job done.

But what I really enjoy so far are the Super Ratchet Galaxy levels. There’s a bunch of levels that are optional as you float through space in your Viper/X-Wing/Whatever you want to call it. You board them, and they’re spherical featuring challenges throughout a Galaxy-esque layout.

I dug them. I didn’t see them coming. When I was scratching my mind-balls about the levels, I remembered that some R&C back in the day featured these sort of spherical levels. I’m far too lazy to look up which game, or recall the particulars from my sludgy, decaying synapses. So maybe it isn’t Galaxy, but rather an extension of Insomniac Games’ prior diddling with the concept.

Nonetheless, they’re an unexpected and enjoyable inclusion. They break up the typical R&C levels nicely, and they’re not mandatory. Side-sessions that allow for some more creative gameplay, if you will.

So far, so good, so what? Yeah, I don’t know. R&C doesn’t reinvent the franchise, and apparently it finishes up the storyline. It’s a great way to wash the taste of getting teabagged by little kids in MW2 out of my mouth, and the Galaxy levels seem to offer something to platformer whores like me who want some optional challenges.