Space Swoon: NASA drops image of Venus that reveals nightglow on the planet’s edge. Well done, fellas!
Ey! Yo! Take this glorious image of Venus and the nightglow on the planet’s edge to the dome! It’s a Tuesday! That fucking sucks! But you know what doesn’t suck? Space!
Hit the jump to check it out, and gleam some details!
Grow, Image! Grow! Swell up, and strike at the heart of the Mighty Two. Or at least keep pumping out all the creator-owned comic books that get my geek-lit-sequential-art-nipples hard.
So you might be wondering why the hell a nearly 20-year-old film about cartoons and basketball is headlining this column about weekly comic books. You might then also wonder how the hell 20 years have gone by so fast. And why hasn’t there been a sequel…ya know, with Lebron and Jason Sudeikis in the lead roles? This would lead you to then ask yourself if you could write the script. Concluding that it is either you or no one else, you then set out to do so. You hit up tumblr for some reference material on Looney Tunes. You quickly spiral down the rabbit hole of ALL OF THE BUTTS WONDERLAND, emerging days later, pants around ankles, achy, groggy. Your unfinished (unstarted) script gives you the stinkeye with its ever-blinking cursor. You realize where the 20 years have gone.
Hit the jump and let’s pass the time between tumblr sessions, talk funnybooks, bond as humans.
Hey, kids! So it’s Wednesday, and I assume we’ve all calmed down after flipping our collective shits from the pop-culture orgy/last-train-to-nowhere that is the VMAs. I’m old, and pop music gets me all kinds of jaded, but the VMAs still managed to teach me a lesson: America THRIVES on nostalgia, even nostalgia that isn’t even 20 years old (see the above pic). I, myself, am currently gushing over an “event” book that, when boiled down to its essentials, is nothing more than a comic scientifically engineered to tickle my 12-year-old pickle. Thanos is my Justin Timberlake. N’Sync are my Infinity Gems. Comic books, particularly superhero ones, are every bit as nostalgic and regressive as the boy-bands and teen vixens of pop music. So while I scoff at the proles going batshit over 10 year old hooks sang by grown men with receding hair lines trying their damndest to recreate moves no thirtysomething should have to attempt (looking at you Fat One), I massage my own nostalgia-boner to pretty pictures of ageless Avengers saddling up for one last ride into the aether in a story not quite called Infinity Gauntlet 2: The Soich For More Money, but may as well be.
Say my name! “Hypocrite.” You’re goddamned right.
So hit the jump and let’s get nostalgic, shall we?
I’m a liar. A dirty, rotten scoundrel! A nerf-herder of the highest proportion. To find out why, hit the jump and let’s talk this week’s funnybooks!
“What the hell is Señor Hotsauce on about this week?” is the question pursed on everyone’s lips. Or, it should be.
I’ve been seeing my “ex” behind OL’s back. In fact, I never left my ex. I know I told you guys we could come here and talk comics in lieu of going mobile and hitting up your local comic shop, but I just couldn’t stay away. I love my comic shop, but I dig you guys, too! So, if you’ll still have me, I’m gonna try and spread that love (and opinions on my favorite books this week) at both joints, and I urge you to do the same! Sally-fucking-forth, comic nerds!
In fact, do me a favor and give a shout out to your LCS. They deserve the attention. Comic Book University in Greenwood, IN is where I hang my pull list. Good folks who keep the new releases well stocked and the snark to a loving 11. (Also: ComiXology has a “virtual store” for participating joints, so that they, too, can get in on the digital-age action. So make sure you ask your LCS if they’re involved. It sends some coin their way and is at no additional cost to you, the consumer.)
Enough with the handjobbery! What’s poppin’ off today?
Holy Toldeo, Batman. Hot off of me lamenting the walled-in inaccessibility of digital comics just yesterday comes this news. Image is going to begin offering their digital comics as DRM-free PDF files. This is balls-out wank-worthy. Yep!
Welcome to Buy These F**king Comics!, the weekly column where we share the various sequential treats we’re gobbling up off the shelves. The wonder of this column is audience participation. No shirts, no shoes required! Just sit there in your dingy underwear, your sweat, and seminal soaked (oh man am I typecasting our lot or what?) t-shirts and recommend a slurry of titles for me to check out. Don’t know what being snapped into brown plastic bags this week? Hit up Comic List.
No sooner do I get my rocks off celebrating the release of a new issue of Butcher Baker: Righteous Maker does news arrive that the comic book has been canceled. It wasn’t just canceled all peacefully like, either. Son of a bitch has become the center of an imbroglio between the two creators.
Buy These F**king Comics! – August 15, 2012: Sextillion can’t handle Butcher Baker! Dude rolls hard.
Wednesday. The delicious oasis in the middle of the weekly grind. Deliver us from 9-5. Deliver us from Cubicles. Deliver us in the form of weekly sequential artwork. Laser beams. Righteous makers. Providing just enough escape to slog through the last two days. This here is Buy These F**king Comics!, the column where we share the various titles we’re excited for on a given week. This column is powered by audience interaction, so if you see my poor taste and me abstaining from mentioning a title, throw it into the ring. Sharing is caring.
Welcome, welcome, welcome, to the funny book column at the end of the Internet. Or perhaps more specifically, at some abandoned asteroid-mining station spiraling into terminal descent. We here aboard the rickety ship don’t have much to comfort ourselves outside of the weekly comic book drop that comes courtesy of the spectra-gryphons sailing the solar waves. Drunk on cheap bathtub fermented moon juice and delusional from the vertigo, I admit my picks for worthwhile comic books can strike the bow a bit askew.
That’s where you come in, friends. Pull down the the blast shield long enough to bark out your finds in staccato bursts, before retiring to your dimly lit crevice in this here rotting rooster of a spaceship.
Don’t know what’s coming out? Pivot sharply and race down the cyber-wells towards the glowing info-cube. Comic List.