Empire Magazine has a news article with a new picture of Emma Frost and Sebastian Shaw from X-Men: First Class. Condemn all the fucking promotional materials surrounding this flick! Every time more promo shit leaks out of this movie’s guts, the more excited I get. I’ve gone from “Meh, this is probably going to blow” to “Holy shit, this could be tight.”

Hit the jump for the full picture.

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I often get into a debate about what I give a fuck about and what I’ll post about. Generally I ignore shit I don’t give a fuck about, but sometimes there’s a subsection of something I give a fuck about that I actually don’t give a fuck about.

Translation: I’m riding the new Spider-Man’s jock, but I don’t give a fuck about retarded set photos taken while they’re not shooting. But for continuity’s sake, I’ll post them anyways.

Whatever.

Hit the jump for the junk.

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Marvel’s dropped some character posters for the upcoming X-Men: First Class. The posters are of Xavier and Magneto, and they follow the “Before he was a crippled bald dude, he was…” motif. Which, I must add, I’m totally digging. I didn’t realize that there would be such an emphasis on the friendship and ideological rift that erupts out of it between these two chaps. Good calls! It seems that often they’re left behind in lieu of giving greater focus to a hairy dude with blue fur dropping one-liners and optic blasts.

Which I’m cool with, but this is even cooler.

Hit the jump for the posters.

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A lot of people are diggin’ the trailer for X-Men: First Class, myself included. Despite the fact that they’re quite literally still shooting and editing bullshit for the rushed movie, the tonal shift to the wayback days has me intrigued. Oh, and January Jones may not be able to act, and she’s clearly going to bastardizing Emma Frost, but her heaving cleavage always gets me going. Today across the webs there’s a quote going around where James McAvoy explains how the flick is a love story between two dudes.

Awesome.

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Not to be outdone by the cadre of new Thor pictures, Captain America got himself some new photos as well tonight. Dude straight up told Marvel Entertainment, “Listen, it’s obvious as a blue eyed, blond haired dude I am clearly not the America dream, but the Nazi posterchild. I will make this shit public if you don’t give me some pub” and thus they did. I really don’t know what I’m taking about.

Hit the jump for the pictures.

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Close the door and turn out the light. If you use your mind’s eye, you’ll see an infinitely tendriled machination coming your way. Don’t even sweat that, okay? It’s my mind-parts worming their way into your synaptic cores. They’ll be done soon, and when they’re gone, you’ll have the latest edition of Variant Covers in your mushy grey matter. The column that blathers on, and on, and on in verbose unedited prose about the comic books I’m interested in this week.

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Action Comics #898.
Are you still being an asshole, or are you reading this comic book yet? This title is the thunder. The culmination of a talented writer, a gorgeous penciler, and the desire to tell a hilarious, absurd storyline. In the past few months, Luthor has shot the shit with Death, gotten into a philosophical debate with the Joker, and beaten some serious ass. It’s a hodgepodge of wit sexy panels. I dismissed it at first because I’m a dismissive douchebag who thought that sticking Luthor in his own titles just didn’t make sense. Was a money grab. All of that has been thrown to the wind, cast aside like autumn leaves. This week Luthor is going to run into Larfleeze, and I imagine the alien avarice motherfucker and him are going to engage in yet another bizarre encounter. Cornell just wants to trot Luthor into the path of one prominent DC character after the next. I’m down with that.

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Shit I Should Be Reading: Scalped #46, Morning Glories #7.
There’s a good amount of comic books currently running that I’m not up to date with. Call it a function of having to read floaty bullshit about paratexts in the influence of meaning on a copy of DeFoe’s Robinson Crusoe. I’m not frontin’, I’m awash in that gunk. So time is limited. Whenever the schooling gods smile upon me, I hope to begin to read Scalped. Everything I’ve heard about it informs me that a) it’s fucking awesome and b) that I’m a choad-stuffed choad for having not gotten around to it yet.

Then there’s Morning Glories. I’ve heard almost exclusively awesome things about the title, save for the inestimably rageful description of it as “LOST” meets Zac Efron’s dance moves. Sir Rager is probably correct, but it didn’t stop me from whoring out $10 for the first trade last week. It sits amongst a bunch of other trades, waiting for me to crack their spine and eat their souls.

But for those in the what, Morning Glories #7 comes out this week. For many I assume it gets their glands flowing with blood and vigor.

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Animated All-Star Superman.
I know you’re asking, what the fuck is an animated movie doing in a comic book column. Well, I’ll tell you, inquiring lads and lasses. It’s a scientific fact that All-Star Superman is the greatest Superman of the last forever. And while I haven’t been able to personally confirm it, a good amount of websites are commenting that the transition from panel and text to celluloid has gone flawlessly. This is the story that a thousand Morrison bonerbots (hi!) splooged over, only animated.

I didn’t pay attention to the first three-thousand glowing articles about it, but eventually it overwhelmed me. My forcefield eroded, I was helpless to its allure.

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The final arc of Fantastic Four had some serious fans around OL. Serious. Fans. Rendar threw inter-splooge all over the final issue in I&W, and I dedicated a good five-hundred words to fawning all over it. That ultimate arc paved the way for the forthcoming FF #1, where Reed and the rest of the family along with Spider-Man set up to solve tomorrow.

The Gods at Marvel, or perhaps more specifically the Marketing Gurus, have seen fit to drop the first six pages on our gaping asses. They’re fantastic, and I can’t help but be slightly aroused when Sue Storm calls Peter Parker “young man.”

Hit the jump for the preview if you’re so inclined.

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Shit’s gone gold, Shane Black 3 is going to be the director of Iron Man 3. There isn’t anymore ruminating, you can bite this news without worry of Fool’s Gold. According to Deadline, the Obviously Hooded Cabal at Marvel is in final negotiations with Black to direct the final flick in the trilogy, though it isn’t certain if he is going to write it or not.

RDJ teaming up with the dude who essentially relaunched his career, the same dude who wrote The Last Boyscout makes me a bit more excited about this movie. Hopefully it’s more memorable than the cute but ultimately forgettable second installment.

I’m really excited for Thor. Like, really excited. Everything I’ve seen from the movie, excluding a few out-of-context shots, has me thinking this has the makings of a dope comic book flick. This new trailer brings some of the Thor Is A Stupid Bastard Misunderstanding American Cultural Norms humor that has come to pass in Thor stories, and it’s all a bit amusing. I’ll admit, I laughed like an asshole at the Facebook comment.

Hit the jump to check out the trailer, and I’m interested to see what you think.

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Gary Shore has gone and done something unexpected. He’s turned Wolverine slicing and dicing his way through a legion of Hand ninjas into something beautiful. In this video, Shore conjures up a fan trailer for the second Wolverine movie, and it’s pretty fucking stunning.

Hit the jump for the video.

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