I Read Comics This Week

52 Week 51

This issue did read a bit like an epilogue, but I still don't really understand what's going on. So, does '52' refer to both the 52 worlds in the multiverse and the weeks Mister Mind spent gestating into a cross between Cthulu and Mothra? Have I got it all?

The seeds for Countdown are also here, as Rip Hunter fills his drawers at the sight of Mister Mothra, and throws Booster Gold's ass into his timeship and goes back in Time. Anything with time travel with me is awesome, so that was cool. Animal Man comes home---again with the cool. And Buddy Baker's son is fascinated with Starfire's rack. Ah, poor kid. It's something you'll never get over.

I didn't read World War Three, so I didn't get the references here. And I don't read Teen Titans, so I didn't get the references there, either. But I did like the explanation for the change in Robin's costume. That I got.



Supergirl and The Legion of Super-Heroes #29


This is Tony Bedard's first issue as the new writer, and he does a good job first time out. Here, the Legion takes the war to the Dominator homeworld, but it's not all entirely action and angst. Bedard takes us inside the head of the chief Dominator scientist, his need to be heretical to save the Dominator race, and his paying the final price for that. Bedard actually made me interested in the Dominators, who I've always seen as rather dopey. I mean, how in hell do they eat with teeth like that?

We also get to see why the Doms have been muttering about the 'Fifdee two' for the past year, and how it ties into Booster Gold being a bit of a dick. Essentially, Booster ran his mouth while time travelling to the Dominator world to swipe a weapon, mentioning he had to save '52' worlds. The Doms thought he was referring to an Earth alliance of 52 worlds allied against the Dominators, which would violate their non-aggression treaty with Earth. So that's why they started this war. It's all Booster Gold's fault. Asshole.



Justice Society of America #5

Sigh. More Legion goodness here. For those thinking DC was just hinting at the return of the Levitz Legion, well, delude yourself no longer. Not only do get Starman and Dream Girl, we also get one of my top three Legionnaires back---Wildfire. And that's not all.

Now, Superman remembers the Legion, and he remembers spending time with them as Superboy. So put on your geek hats, kids, and let's ponder.

The fact that the 'Superboy and The Legion' stories now happened means once again that the 'current' Legion is completely removed from them. The Bedard/Waid Legion was formed out of love for 20th century superheroes, including Superman. They had never met him before, and the only Kryptonian they've met is Supergirl. So now we have two Legions running around--or do we have another 48?

Give me the Levitz Legion, please. Pretty please?



The Brave and The Bold #3

And more Legion goodness!! This time, we have Batman and Blue Beetle fighting the Fatal Five! THE FATAL FIVE!! This is the same group of super baddies that killed Colossal Boy! The team that can fight the Legion to a standstill! And they're fighting Batman and Blue Beetle!

AWESOME.

We also have Supergirl flashing Lobo. Sure, she says she's just showing off her 'S' symbol, but I know Kryptonian girls. Tramps, all of them.

This was also my first real look at the new Blue Beetle. And you know? I don't mind him. There's a bit of Spider-Man in him, a touch of Iron Man (the sentient armour thing is neat)and I really like the suit--both because it's blue and it looks like hell to draw. No problem for Perez, of course, who makes it look easy.

A fun, fun book. With a cliffhanger that is both ridiculous and pure comic book goofiness.

I Did A Warcraft Raid Last Night And All I Got Were These Crappy Pictures

I did Deadmines last night, that nasty dungeon hidden in a farmer's barn. No, really. I brought a camera.



Here's my Night Elf Tirmoggles looking at the entrance to the Deadmines instance. I think she's peed her pants. It looks like the Guardian of Infinity or whatever that was called in that Star Trek episode.



This is me fighting pirates. Stupid pirates. One even had an attacking parrot. Oh, and they called us 'landlubbers'. So we stabbed them.



All pirates dead, all treasure looted, I turned to take one last look at the evil pirate boat that was for some reason underground. Beneath a farmhouse. Which perhaps will make me never look at a farmhouse the same way ever again. Is every silo really just a crow's nest? See? Gets you thinking, doesn't it?

Blasts From The Past

Fellow Delaware-ite and childhood buddy David wrote about how the music his father inundated him with as a kid still rattles around in his head to this day. It was a good piece, and it made me--for the first time in my life--listen to a Jim Reeves song.

Matt Groening once said that houses without books scared him. I'd like to add 'music' to that list as well. While my parents weren't as in love with music as David's parents were, my father did have a few tried and true 8-track tapes he played incessantly in the long list of shitty cars we had. The one tape was played so often that--like David--I can sing almost every single song on it, word for word.

I swear, if I ever get out of here, I'm going to Katmandu

My Sexy Paladin

Geek time!

This is Mara, my 10th level paladin, taking a well earned rest near the Elywn Forest. She just kicked the asses of rusty golems for a good hour, and my girl needed to kick back and watch the sunset.

I take care of my Warcraft girls. I gots their back.

Defenders of The Night

I found this over at Chris' blog. You should add this man to your bookmarks, because he makes me howl every day. His breakdown of this, the greatest film ever, is his usual comedy platinum. His latest find leaves any definition of genius laying in the dust with its balls well and soundly kicked.

Geekgasm, and The Redemptive Power of Mary Marvel

Justice League of America #8

I hate myself. I know I'm just setting myself up for disappointment, but I'm really excited about this new JLA storyline. And what geek wouldn't be? It's a Justice League/Justice Society aaaaaaaand Legion of Super-Heroes crossover. And just any Legion--it's an old school Levitz era Legion. I call geekgasm!

This was a good opening issue. How could it not be when we have Batman and Karate Kid throwing down? The conclusion of this battle reminded me of the old geek chestnut--who would win in a fight between Captain America and Batman? I think we have the answer here.

The story deals with both the League and the Society tracking down seven Legion members currently trapped on Earth. We know who three are--Starboy, Dream Girl and the aforementioned Karate Kid. My money is on one of them being Booster Gold, but that's just me.

And the final page of this issue--showing my two favourite DC heroines side by side--was just icing in the geek cake. If you're not reading Justice League of America, you should be.



52 Week 50

First of all, I cry shenanigans on DC. Trying to strong arm regular 52 readers into buying not one, but four World War Three comics this week so that they can get the fabled whole story of what occurs in this week's issue is just craptastic. I did not buy them, since my comic budget is already straining past the breaking point, and more to the point, I don't like being told to buy anything. As a result, this issue of 52 reads very disjointedly, since you don't get the full story unless you shell out for those other four books.

The issue--which has the DC heroes trying to find Black Adam and then kick his ass--suffers quite a bit from Justiano's rather cartoony art style. With a story allegedly this big, I would have thought a more realistic art style would have been called for. A two page spread which shows a gaggle of heroes racing towards a defiant Adam just looks goofy and cluttered. (Ignoring, of course, that no one would have perhaps come up with a better strategy than just Get Him!).

The redeeming aspects? Captain Marvel's resolution of the Adam problem was nice. Very nice. The arrival of Booster Gold and Rip Hunter heralded some cool stuff to come in the last two issues. And we have one shot of Mary Marvel, which would redeem even a book written and drawn by Rob Liefeld for me.

Ninja Warrior Sighted At Tim Horton's

This was taken mere seconds before this elite ninja warrior threw the man ahead of her over the counter for taking 3.5 seconds too long to order his coffee. The look of rage on her face--seen in this photo--scared young children in a six block radius.

Police were called, but allowed to her leave with her Large Black, No Sugar. She was last seen hurtling through space, the way ninjas do.

God Bless The Internet

Sometimes, you just see something that you have to share. Something that defines description. Something that just leaves you...speechless. And painfully aware that your sense of humour never really progressed past the age of three.

I offer up this.

She seems so proud, which just makes it all the more sidesplitting.

Saturday In A Housecoat

Wandered out this morning to grab my copy of The Globe and Mail from the porch. Saw it contained another Great Canadian Writer piece, this time on Michael Ondaatje. Sighed. But then the Globe did a nice piece on Vonnegut, so all was more or less forgiven.

I always admired Vonnegut, since he didn't buy into the bullshit that so many writers do. I never thought he surrounded himself with the artistic air of the Suffering Writer, or tried to tie in an image of himself with his work, almost like a marketable product. He spoke openly of his depression, and of his suicide attempt. He wrote science fiction when many 'literate' writers wouldn't touch the genre. His work was humourous, and yet managed to make his point without hammering it into your head. He succeeded--for me, at least--of creating people I'd like to be with. And it was Cat's Cradle that convinced me I'd be a fool to not go out with the woman who would become Beloved Wife and Dark Mistress of The Night.

Now that I think about it, he reminds me of Douglas Adams--not only in style, but in the fact that being a writer was just part of who they were. Both men were interested in the world, and being a writer was just a part of that. And of course, Adams is gone, too.

Maybe that's the trick. Don't try to be a writer, a bricklayer, or a painter. Just be a human being. Oh, and try to make people laugh. That never hurts.

A Dose Of Pure Fucking Awesomeness

Okay, it's been a crap week for me. Maybe it's been crap for you as well. So let us all come together, my brothers and sisters, and just adore this bit of Pure. Fucking. Awesomeness.

P.S.--if you weren't ambulatory on the Earth during the Seventies, or ever went to a dance whose major attraction was a spinning disco ball, this may be lost on you. Just move along. Play with your IPod or something.

J-Rock

So I now have a new bird. Paul and I went out and bought him at SuperPet, getting him safely home. Beloved Wife and I then spent the next 24 hours agonizing over the latest little creature to come through my doors. The panic attacks surrounded the little guy not eating, so I got back in the car, drove out to Exeter Road and bought the food he was eating there. Huzzah! He then pigged out, actually dozing with his head in his feed dish.

We've decided to call him Jake, since that is one tough name for a budgie. Although the more I see of him, the more I call him 'J-Rock', of Trailer Park Boys fame.

Beloved Wife isn't amused, but that doesn't stop her from laughing.

Mara

I lost my bird today. Mara Jade was five, a beautiful green and yellow budgie. I bought her from the Market Pet Store when I needed a companion bird for Iggy, the budgie I found huddled in a gas cage in the middle of winter. (Iggy passed away two years later from egg binding.)I never wanted to have birds, since I still feel whoever caged the first bird couldn't die nastily enough. But I wasn't going to let Iggy live alone, and so Mara entered my life.

It's funny. While Iggy was alive, Mara was the most quiet bird--she rarely chirped, and seemed to be in awe of the personality-plus that Iggy displayed. After Iggy passed away, and I found a companion for Mara, only then did her personality come to the fore.

She loved to cut across me at times when I spoke to her, screeching louder until I shut up. She and her companion Miho sat in a large imported cage to my left every night as I read, and she'd often scuttle down her cage to watch me. She and Miho got along fairly well, although she lost patience with him now and again. (Miho is a very eager and happy bird. Mara was little more..shall we say...restrained.) She rarely sang, but would now and again burst out with a series of chirps out of the blue. She was also pretty tough--once, Julius managed to get past me and knock their cage down off the fireplace. The cage exploded, and as I raced to throw Julius out into the kitchen, Mara and Miho flew pell-mell around the living room. Did I mention that this was at three in the morning? And that I had stupidly fallen asleep in my chair?

If you don't have birds, then all of the above may sound boring. But live with them for awhile, and you'll find it hard to imagine a life without them.

Mara had become sick last Tuesday, but had seemed better Thursday night. She had a good night last night, but this morning, it was evident that she was losing her battle. I took her to the vet's, but she didn't think the problem was that big. She also said that with birds, once a problem manifests, it's too late. "They are so fragile," she said. She gave Mara some meds, and we took her home. But even driving home, you could see she was getting weaker.

Mara passed away this afternoon.

George Carlin once said that each pet is just a future heartbreak. Today, for me, is that day. Still, I wouldn't trade a second of my time with her. She was a wonderful friend, and I really miss her.

Grumblings From The Reading Chair

52 Week 48

For all two of you deep Question fans out there, this is the issue where Renee Montoya finally dons the mask and becomes The Questionette. Or is that Questionnaire? Oh, it's still just the Question? Damn it! If I can't have some form of feminine influence on my hero names, I get all moody.

The jist of this issue is the Question trying to save Batwoman from getting a big honking knife in her chest to fulfill prophecies in the Crime Bible. Gouts of flame erupt into the sky all over Gotham, which I'm assuming doesn't cause long term residents to even blink. I mean, it's Gotham. What with the Joker poisoning the water every other week or the Riddler blowing up city blocks, why on hell anyone would live there is beyond me. I'm assuming no one has any insurance, because who would be stupid enough to sell it in Gotham? You'd be bankrupt in a week.

I didn't care much for the art this week. In one big climactic scene, I wasn't even aware that Batwoman had been stabbed. I had to re-read the page and squint until I saw the knife. A nice ending--but is that it for Batwoman? I thought she was interesting, in that way that guys find voluptuous women dressed in tights and capes 'interesting'. Oh, and this line gave me the shivers:

'I finally found a way to dissolve the enamel on the black Marvel's teeth."



Supergirl and The Legion of Super-Heroes #26

With each and every new issue of this comic, I find myself smiling more and more. Waid and Kitson have finally begun to turn in a great Legion book. So of course, they're leaving with issue #30.

This issue we have the Ranzz family going over their rather tiresome family problems, which makes me yawn. I have always found Lightning Lad to be boring, and liked his psycho brother just because he wasn't Lightning Lad. I didn't mind Lightning Lass--I mean, Spark--I mean, Light Lass. It's sad how if a guy has a crap power, I hate them, but if it's a woman in something tight, I find it endearing. (See my Power Girl fascination for more examples of same.) Still, the family bickering is dull. But this is forgiven when the Legion realizes that they have to get to MegaTokyo super damn quick, and so they fly through the Earth to get there. Why? Because Mon-El wants to feel the rocks and magma, having been stuck in the Phantom Zone for a thousand years. That's awesome.

And if that isn't great enough, we have a magnificent two page spread of a giant Dominator robot attacking MegaTokyo. So the Legion attack it, with Mon-El, Supergirl and Ultra Boy doing what they do best--and I'm not talking about folding laundry. (Although I feel Mon-El would be very good at that. Don't know why. He just looks the type.) But we learn that the giant killer robot is more than that. In fact, he's the sort of thing that makes Brainiac 5 go all deer eyes in the headlights as the issue's cliffhanger.

A great read. Too bad it only took the Legion over two years to get good. And yes, I just kicked the English language hard in the balls.



BPRD:THE GARDEN OF SOULS #1

I always feel like I've not done the required reading when I pick up an issue of B.P.R.D. There is such a storied history to this and the accompanying Hellboy title that it almost seems necessary to re-read every single issue of each title before even thinking of starting to read something new. Mike Mignola lays his clues so quietly that--coupled with the time in between issues--a constant state of meditation on the narrative is only a start to fully comprehending it.

Me? I just like monsters and big fights.

There isn't much of that here--in fact, this entire issue seems like a prelude to the real story of Garden of Souls, whatever that may be. The story opens with a society ball mummy-unwrapping in London in 1859, where a pre-fishy Abe Sapien is in attendance. Wonderfully, as the mummy is unwrapped, her eyes open. The story then leaps ahead to 2006, where a giant man with a nail fetish sees Abe's now-fishy face on a newspaper in Indonesia. Leap ahead again to 2007, with Abe and Liz burying the remains of Roger, who died in the last storyline. Bounce bouncy to Benjamin Daimo--the soldier with his face torn apart, the sole survivor of his unit who was decimated six years ago--having the most painful acupuncture one can imagine (there is a golden sword involved, which knowing Mignola, will have deep significance to someone, somewhere) along with a horrible vision involving a monkey with a human face in formaldehyde. Oh, then we see a giant steampunk robot feeding cat like things in a jungle. Liz (the firestarter who burned her family to death by accident) has tea with Kate Corrigan, who almost died last storyline as well. And then Abe gets a package--a box of cigars with a map leading to Indonesia.

See? I'm sure I missed volumes of hints and references. I read the letters page and wonder if I get the defective issues of B.P.R.D--the ones without the thirty pages of addendums and weblinks. Still, I love this title because it doesn't spoonfeed you, it is genuinely creepy, and Guy Davis' art is always a joy. ( I met Guy a few years ago, and he's a perfect gentleman, even with the mohawk he had at the time. He drew me a wonderful picture from his own comic, Baker Street--an alternate world Sherlock Holmes story with punk rockers--that I still treasure the way Smaug treasures shiny things.)

Ahead of me?

The Immortal Iron Fist #4
Runaways #25
Jonah Hex #18
Detective Comics #831
Justice League of America #7
Supergirl and The Legion of Super-Heroes #27 and #28

Again, I Reprove That Tauren Warrior

I never thought Yao Ming would--as the kids say--crack my shit up. Oh, and I play a hunter, too! She's Level 24, I have a big cat as my pet, andshejustgotthisreallydecentarmour....(geek fade out)

Julius' Musical Tastes

I headed down to Neo-Tokyo on Saturday, since it's the closest I'll probably get to Tokyo itself for the foreseeable future. Holding onto my wallet so I didn't completely bankrupt myself, I did manage to find the above collection of Final Fantasy music performed on piano. Yes, I know I've just painted myself as the lowest form of geek, but damn! I love the music from those games. I'm only happy that I'm married, because telling prospective mates that I love Japanese game soundtracks probably ain't a sure route to anyone's bed. Still, I will admit that I get misty-eyed when I hear the battle music come on the stereo. Dun dundun dun dun DUNT DUNT! Yes, call me pathetic, but I can summon mana like nobody's business. That music brings back the memories, so it does. But thank the stars for that wedding ring.

So come along Sunday night. I'm tucking in once again to William Gibson's Virtual Light, and I go put this CD on the house system. The music starts. I sit down, and glance at Julius, my cat, my confidant, my bete noire, as he glares at me from the couch.

He's looking curiously at the stereo speakers. As the music swells, he visibly relaxes onto the couch. Usually, he could care less what I listen to, and seems--like most animals--oblivious to anything other than his thoughts, plans, and next set of Temptations. But as I watched, Julius' ears twitched as the music moved along. Suddenly, the world's most unrelaxed, mentally busy cat looks like he just spent six hours in a warm, soothing bath.

I return to my book. Forty minutes later, Julius is still blissed out. Then I remember that I've got two Radiohead albums in the CD carousel. An image of Julius hitting the roof as the guitar of The Bends
blasts across the living room impels me to quickly switch them out. Put in more piano music, because as everyone knows, you don't piss off Julius.

Coming back upstairs, Beloved Wife gives me the report. The second the music stopped, Julius' eyes shot open and his ears turned back. When the music resumed, he settled back into his doze.

Ladies and gentlemen: the world's first otaku cat.

Lost Her To Megadeth

Well, I should have seen it coming.

My wife has been listening to Megadeth now for about a month. She even dragged me to see Dave Mustaine and his band last Saturday, making me endure the agony that is Ronnie James Dio and the rest of the old Black Sabbath colostomy bag wearers. Now, this morning, she's announced she's leaving me---to become a roadie for the band.

"Don't you mean groupie?" I asked, broken.

"Well, if opportunity arises, sure," she said. "But I don't mind schlepping. That means 'carrying stuff', you know. I'm all about the lingo."

So she packed her bags, put on her old Iron Maiden blue jean jacket, and kissed me goodbye.

I lost my wife to rock and roll.