Man, women love the Spirit, don't they? They want to kiss him and rub their privates all over him. It's funny when you think about it, because he doesn't dress that differently than the Green Hornet, but the Green Hornet never has ladies going so crazy they kill (nor so crazy they die) just to get his attention, unless you count that little Asian slave who kung fu fights for him, but I don't think it's funny to make jokes about slavery. And man, that shit where the ladies go crazy happens to the Spirit all-the-fucking-time!
Oh! I bet his penis has a bunch of baby owls tattooed on it. Baby owls are the first person shooter of making ladies go crazy.
This one kind of cracks you up, because hey: where's Superman, dude? Dog comics? FUCK DOGS. fuckdawgs?
Straczynski's run on Superman has taught this reader one thing, and that is how to spell his name. It's taught absolutely nothing else though, it's just been a fucking shotgun blast of moron right to the face, and bringing another writer on board to flesh out the bad ideas didn't change a thing. It's been anti women, anti kids, anti black, anti intelligent, decent human beings on a nonstop never quits basis. But in what has to be the biggest DC shocker since the dead cat as weaponry, DC apparently ended up with a hot enough potato (the potato was Muslim flavored) that they couldn't bring themselves to print the fucking thing, and they ended up tossing out some dog comics to kill time. Think about what that comic must be, for DC not to publish it! Now, it's wholly possible that this horrible, horrible story arc had all of a sudden, for reasons that make absolutely no logical sense, turned out a magical comic despite being written and drawn by the same people who, for obvious reasons, had yet to make something that even remotely approached competence before. That is a thing that is possible! They could have gotten all the stupid out of their system in the child abuse issue, as there was lots and lots of stupid in that issue. But maybe--and religion is a sensitive subject, so let's tread carefully--it's more likely that a grown up finally walked into the room and said "I think that's enough."
(Here's a hint: one of these responses is a bit optimistic. The second one is insanely optimistic.)
Thank god Marvel was kind enough to bring such a massive crew of people on board to finish this issue. Having to wait to read one of those comics that hinges on somebody saying "actually, those bullets won't work...because I did something yesterday to THAT gun with YOUR mom and now EVERYTHING is different" would've really stunk up the trunk. That shit aside though, it does bode well to see North Korean freedom fighters showing up as the Big Bad's final line of attack, because if there's one thing that irritates the penises of internet comic book joykillers, it's when Mark Millar gets into contemporary geopoliticking. Make sure you pour out a forty for Black Hulk, gentlemen! (He got shot in the face.)
Green Arrow #13
Written by James Patrick
Art by Agustin Padilla
Published by DC Comics
While all the goodwill built up by DC's Rise of Arsenal comic was long squandered when the new Green Arrow series turned out to be merely a piece cut from the other side of the same shit pie that the previous Green Arrow series had grown out of, it's always worth flipping through the latest issue if you can find one on the stands, if only to see moments like this:
For those who prefer to have their pictures described to them by somebody who is waiting for a torrent of The Real Housewives of New Jersey to finish downloading, allow me: this is the real Green Arrow Year One, a flashback depicting the moment when, prior to the part where he was patrolling-the-streets, the character borrowed medical cadavers for the express purpose of shooting them with arrows, so that he could see how that shooting-people-with-arrows-shit worked. Drink that in, if you please. So many questions! Why did the medical school agree to let a rich industrialist shoot their medical cadavers? Did the cadavers come limbless, or is that something Oliver did on his own? How did he hang those cadavers up on those target plates? Did Green Arrow become Green Arrow to make use of all those extra back muscles he is depicted as having? I ask again, why the fuck don't they have any arms and legs? Even better: did he learn anything, or did he just yank the arrows out and say "guess my arrows made some fucking holes in you, bitch"?
It would be a lot cooler if they would just let Mike Deodato or Kyle Baker use Bruce Villanch as reference for Steve Rogers, or, if not "a lot cooler", semi-intriguing, because this whole thing where Butch Guice does the best work he's done...is this ever? It feels like ever, and this is a guy who drew part of one of the best selling series of comics in the category called All Time...right alongside critical darling Chris Samnee who, while being totally wonderful, seems to have been stuck drawing "Steve Rogers argues with himself about being Captain America in the Captain America home ec classroom" for longer than it's going to take you to figure out where this sentence started, which was the statement that it would be better if Steve was played by an obese joke monger with a beard that looks like a shrimpnet. Because it would!
In the category marked "that doesn't make any sense", there's a manila folder containing the things that shouldn't inspire people but apparently do, and right next to the entry for Hal Jordan you'll find Lois snoozey ass Lane. And while the two characters inspire a general "who fucking cares about those losers" sentiment amongst people who have never even heard of custom made action figure, the ironic difference is that it really doesn't have to be that way for old Lois. No, unlike Hal scumbag fascist bags of shit dogfucking Jordan, Lois is just supposed to be a smart female reporter. Hell, the only thing you usually have to suspend disbelief on with Lois is the part where she works for a newspaper and is also pretty, as in real life those are two of those "twain will never meet" kinds of things. And yet, historically, the only good comics Lois is prominently involved in are the ones where she does something idiotic and Superman has to break his dick in half saving her. It's probably attributable in part to the people who make her stories up, but then again, maybe it's just something in the fabric of her fictional make-up: doomed to a promise she can never deliver.
Take this comic, for example. That cover-depicting a badass looking chick facing off against a bunch of random DC characters, one of whom (the Demon Etrigan) any normal human has no chance against and should, by rights, be shit-their-pants-terrified of, and yet Lois is packing a nine, all set to fire at their prime time. If anything shows promise--if anything shows an understanding on DC's part that they could actually win some people over to liking their comics and not just buying them in a state of depressed "maybe this time they won't use a weight bench to rape my favorite female character" dejection like some pop culture abuse victim, it's the comic this cover has on advertisement, the comic that's about the take-no-shit scarf wearing lady who plans to shoot some motherfuckers in the face for jacking up her trip to London. And hell, it's by Abnett and Lanning! They wrote all that cosmic Marvel shit that I know at least one person liked, I'll bet this is going to be the pickle I eat, not the pickle I boink the dog with! How could they fuck up this kind of touchdown?
-Tucker Stone, 2011