The Factual Opinion

Comics Of The Weak: Probably Tradable For A Full Tilt

Justice League of America # 33
Written by Dwayne McDuffie
Art by Rags Morales, John Dell, & Pete Pantazis
Published by DC Comics

If you look at the last page of this comic, it says "To Be Concluded", but if you look at the "solicit" information for the next issue, it's apparently about the Royal Flush Gang fighting the Justice League, which is a story that's been told so many fucking times that it's mostly a surprise that this latest incarnation of the Justice League comic took 34 issues to get around to it. Either way, this is the last hurrah of Dwayne McDuffie's tenure on the JLA title, as he's been canned due to not being able to lie and say that writing Justice League comics under editorial fiat isn't as awesome as really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really stupid people think it would be. There's seriously a large enough group of people who think that it would be fucking dope to be handed a list of nothing but C-list DC characters and told "make this work, and try to convince the readers they should give a shit about Salvation's Run and Tangent revamps while you're at it" that that group gets to show up at local bars and clubhouses and start "debates". Wasn't part of debate club that the other side couldn't be made up by people who need bibs when drinking out of a straw? Since when did democracy and free speech mean that you had to listen to the opinion of hamsters on deforestation? Justice League of America: nobody understands you anymore.

The New Avengers # 53

Written by Brian Michael Bendis

Art by Billy Tan & Matt Banning

Published by Marvel Comics

The best way to enjoy an issue of New Avengers, if you don't really like the artist for New Avengers, is to figure out which funny voices the characters are speaking in, and then read the comic as if it is an off shoot of that voice. For example, Captain Bucky America is regularly featured in a title where he usually comes across as competent and terse. When he appears in the New Avengers, he seems confused by both the people around him and breathing. So when he stops prior to a big assault and starts telling everybody that they "need guns", no matter that Spider-man cries around guns because he can't stop obsessing about the random pervert who raised him for all of ten minutes and was shot at some point, by a scary gun, you should imagine that Captain Bucky is talking like that fat guy from Super Troopers, when that fat guy from Super Troopers stood in the doorway and said "Cream? Cream? Anybody want cream?" After that, the pieces start falling into place. Wolverine can be Gilbert Gottfried. Luke Cage can be any cool black guy you see on television who hangs out with white people for no logical reason whatsoever, because that's the way Bendis writes him. You get the point.

Crossed # 5

Written by Garth Ennis

Art by Jacen Burrows & Juanmar

Published by Avatar

After four issues, five if you're counting # 0, Crossed finally veers into controversial territory, with Ennis and Burrows delivering a game-changing "Nobody Dies, Nothing Gross Happens" issue. Don't be fooled by the wrap-around cover--the only individual going postal here will be the reader, who will settle down for an evening in, looking forward to a comic full of testicle-exposing underwear and infanticide by way of Pulling Really Hard On Hands & Feet, only to find out that they've been had. Yep, this is it: the chapter where Jacen Burrows gets to draw a two-page spread of nature photography. The part of the story where Garth Ennis has a male character respond to another male's "I happen to be a homosexual, thank you very much" moment by saying "Huh....like, really gay?" That one never gets old.

Wolverine # 72
Written by Mark Millar
Art by Steve McNiven, Dexter Vines, Jay Leisten, Morry Hollowell, Nathan Fairbairn & Paul Mounts
Published by Marvel Comics

The problems with Millar's Old Man Logan story can all be laid at the feet of hoary old "predictability" complaints--if you read the first issue, with Wolverine's touchmetal retelling of William Munny's backstory as his own, then you already knew what was coming: if a Wolverine story opens with Wolverine refusing to use his claws because of a promise to his kids, that means you'll eventually reach a point where those kids die, the promise dies with them, and then there will be a Snikt, and we'll be back in familiar territory. And so we are, and so it happens, and while Millar can, and has, written generic boilerplate Wolverine-kills-everything stories with pizzazz and panache before, this one goes down a lot more blandly. Will it matter, when the story is collected? Probably not. It reads quickly enough, that's for sure. But it's just another mercenary comic, and another piece of evidence why Mark Millar, for all his success, doesn't have anything that interesting to say. Lookie at all those drawings of dead people though! That shit is edgy as hell.

Aliens # 1

Written by John Arcudi

Art by Zach Howard, Mark Irwin & Wes Dzioba

Published by Dark Horse Comics

Whereas the original Alien comics started showing up back when the film franchise was a going concern involving actual filmmakers, the last couple of Alien related flicks were so bad that the bar has effectively been set at absolute zero. (Unsurprisingly, Predator, the other stalwart Dark Horse movie comic is right around the corner as well.) For the most part, this thing is the same kind of jazz as any of the older ones where, although Dark Horse somehow convinced John Arcudi to head back to the movie comic bench, which gives it a sheen of overkill. (Does the target audience for Aliens comics really check the credits prior to purchase? This shit ain't Judge Dredd.) Some artist you've never heard of who knows enough to stick with Giger imitation, a bunch of space miners, and a hint of problems to come--what a cum-curdling surprise. Although the entire mini-series probably won't be that interesting, it is kind of pleasant to watch Arcudi go through the motions of Introducing The Cast only to have almost of all of them massacred before the first issue even ends. It's like watching Death Proof for the first time and thinking the movie is going to be about the characters who yammer throughout the opening scenes. It's still a comic book spun off from a film franchise that should've been smothered in the 90's, but hey: original ideas are hard to come by in comics. Just ask Chris Claremont.

Batman In Barcelona: Dragon's Knight # 1

Written by Mark Waid

Art by Diego Olmos & Marta Martinez

Published by DC Comics

One of the minor problems created by the juvenile sexism super-hero comics so often contain is that when it comes time for a male character to turn to a female character and say "You really should mind your own fucking business" or "Why don't you shove your bitch advice up your ass" maybe "Just because I didn't sleep with you doesn't give you the fucking right to judge me, cunt", it can't happen, even though it should, because that's how anybody would react if some lady walked up and said "I realize we barely know each other, and we aren't in a relationship, but I really think you should change the way you live your life because your current existence is one that would be a disappointment to your parents, who were shot right in front of you." Especially if the female follows that up by handing the male a fucking diary and pen followed up with the smug sanctimony of "Write the story of your future. Chart a destiny for yourself, Bruce Wayne. Live a life of meaning."

Yeah. Hey lady. Lady that we'll never see again. Lady that Bruce Wayne barely knows.

Go fuck yourself.

Battle For The Cowl Gotham Gazette Batman Alive? # 1

Written by Fabian Nicieza

Art by Dustin Nguyen, Guillem March, ChrisCross, Jamie McKelvie, Alex Konat, Mark McKenna & Guy Major

Published by DC Comics

Although the Tony Daniel portion of the Battle For The Cowl show ended last week, there's still this thing to get through, which is the follow up to Battle For The Cowl: Gotham Gazette: Batman Dead?, which means DC made the stupidly optimistic assumption that the people who read that particular piece of fucking garbage back in early March decided to hang onto their copies so they could find out what kind of two page follow-up chapters there are in the story of Leslie Thompkins, a character that is about as interesting as it would be if she were a real person who hung around and insulted your life choices the way she insults everybody else. Jesus Christ, when did fucking general practitioners get such a fucking ego? If anybody ever read an issue featuring that irritating character and walked away thinking "I'd like to be a doctor when I grow up," that's a comic reader who should be crushed under a cashew truck. Beyond that, it's nice to know that the world of comics still equates "having a scar on your face" as being a shortcut to "badass", becasue Tim Drake has one now. Nice try, Nicieza, but Tim Drake? The only way you can get more whitebread pussy than Tim Drake would be if he magically turned into the only Robin who is also a My Little Pony. 

The Hood # 1

Written by Jeff Parker

Art by Kyle Hotz & Frank Martin

Published by Marvel Comics

The room was a dark one. I'd been there before--not too long ago, if I remembered correctly, but it was all a blur of sweat and degradation, promises and lies, prostitutes and pies. "You're doing good for us", he said, his voice hinting that the sentence wasn't finished yet, "we're wondering if you might be what we call a team player." The snickering fuck in the back room said something, that guttural prick toying with a jar of moisturizer, I couldn't hear it, but I didn't care. He was out of ideas anyway, everybody in the room knew it, it's why i was there. "The sales figures are in", came the voice from the corner, a jovial tone from that sycophantic monster, "maybe you want a challenge." A challenge, I thought? Wasn't picking up after Claremont and Winick, trying to make that fucking Exiles thing work..wasn't that challenge enough? How much farther did I have to go to prove myself, I wondered. There was a folder on the corner of the desk, the stubby fingers flipped it open. 

No, I thought.

Goddammit, no.

"How about the Hood", they said. "Think you could make that work?"

It took everything in me not to run away screaming. Before I knew what was happening, the contracts were signed. It's two months later now.

I can still hear that fucker laughing.

Unknown Soldier # 8

Written by Joshua Dysart

Art by Alberto Ponticelli & Oscar Celestini

Published by Vertigo/DC Comics

Your enjoyment for Unknown Soldier can probably be gauged by your answer SAT question: 

Although Angelina Jolie's adoption of babies from 3rd world countries is a very ____ thing to do, it might also help if the bloodthirsty warlords of Uganda were framed for her murder, because then the millions of tabloid readers of the world would _________ about what happens in Uganda.

A. HAWT....know

B. selfish....still not care

C. adorable....give a shit

D. i like chicken....i like fish

E. It's so hard when my husband looks at me and says "Did you do anything besides gossip and eat bon bons today? Don't lie. I've got a camera in the Hummel cabinet."

Africa!

-Tucker Stone, 2009

Economist Versus Idiot: Earlier Meant Later

The World Last Week

-Everybody figured that India's general election would end up with another coalition of disagreement, but that isn't the way it went down at all. The Congress party smoked the competition, and the guys and gals who write the Economist broke their legs falling over each other in the race to call that awesome.

-According to the United Nations, Pakistan's ongoing struggle with the Taliban has forced 1.5 million people to leave their homes in hopes of not getting killed. Pleasant, that.

-So, if a British lawyer gets convicted of perjury over lies he told to "protect" Silvio Berlusconi, doesn't that meant that the same Italian courts now have evidence against Berlusconi as well? Oh wait, that's why Berlusconi changed the law to protect Italian prime ministers last year, isn't it.

-Hey, just because some report was released that says children have been abused at Irish Catholic institutions on a non-stop basis for sixty years, don't get all worked up. The head of the church said he was "profoundly sorry." I'm pretty sure that Christians are supposed to forgive and forget in cases like these. Isn't that how it works? I can't be sure--i've never physically or sexually abused children for sixty years, so I might be the wrong guy to ask.

-Here's a nice update on the war on drugs: an armed gang released fifty prisoners in Mexico, including some high ranking cartel guys. That whole prohibition thing is working so fucking well.

-Three bomb attacks in Iraq, including one in Baghdad, took the lives of at least 63 people. Remember last month when they were saying how much better things were? Last month was pretty great.

-The Nigerian military is running its own little version of war right now, attacking militants in the Niger Delta. The reason this one isn't being made a bigger deal (lots of human rights violations and dead civilians) is because the groups they're going after are clogging up international oil sales.

-Daimler thinks that Tesla Motors has some serious profit potential, and they've taken on a 10% stake in the California based firm. Lithium-ion battery pattered cars: soon to be widespread? Possible.

-And here's the best story of the week, despite it not being a story that got reported enough: Proctor & Gamble were trying to escape a value-added tax that Britain places on potato chips by saying that Pringles don't have enough actual potatoes in them to be legally considered potato chips. The British court of appeals, apparently big Pringles fans, disagreed.

Leaders

-Although India's electoral surprise takes the cover and lead feature, this week's issue is stained with Sri Lanka. The government has officially claimed the 26-year war with the Tamil Tigers over. The conflict has left thousands of civilians dead--some because the Tiger's ganged them up for use as human shields. If it were up to Sri Lanka, that would be the end of it. For the world, it probably will be. But the Economist is unwilling to join the choir that wishes to paint this particular conflict as yet another sad story of Good Guys Versus Evil Terrorists, choosing instead to continue singing the same song they've sung for the last 16 months: Sri Lanka has kept the truth of the conflict from their own people, strongarmed journalists from reporting the story, and blatantly scoffed at the United Nations complaints and fears regarding civilian casualties. There's no mistaking the tone here: Sri Lanka won, yes, the Tigers were an awful bunch, true, and yet the method with which this conflict has played out over the final months was a horrific crime against innocents, and Sri Lanka may have damned themselves to a future of hatred, a garden they've watered with the blood of men, women and children. If, or When, the survivors of this conflict begin to question why so many of their family's had to die in a war they were only unlikely enough to be caught between, the answer will stare them right in the face: because the government of Sri Lanka decided that their lives where without value. They are wrong. And while this particular version of the conflict may have reached conclusion, they will face the repercussions of the horrible decisions they have made for decades to come.

Letters

-Hey, some dick from Oxford quotes Seneca and babbles on about how awful it is that people are angry all the time. That's some fascinating stuff there, you fucking degenerate shit-for-brains. Last time I checked, anger wasn't the problem. It was snobby intellectuals who jacked off all over credit deriavites. Go fuck yourself. Until you are dead.

United States

-The Economist devotes two articles to criticisms of the new climate-change bill, both of which are centered around the belief that a simple carbon tax would have been far more useful to the planet than the loophole-filled cap and trade system that was just passed. Although this might be a hard pill for some to swallow, especially since Al Gore referred to it as "one of the most important pieces of legislation ever introduced in Congress", the truth is, the Economist is probably right. Cap and trade only works when it plows across the board indiscriminately, and when it's run by an organization not beholden to lobby groups. While a carbon tax would have been a tougher sell, it would have been much harder to poke and prod it into a Katamari of corporate write-offs. Good job, America. You failed.

-Without even the slightest hint of a surprise, California rejected all the various ballot measures that were being feted as the solution to the state's massive deficit. (Except for the pennies-on-the-dollar "you legislators can't have raises" one.) By doing so, here's what California may have voted FOR when they voted no to the ballot measures: massive cuts in welfare, which is always a crowd pleaser, as well as a destruction of health care programs for impoverished children. And then they upheld that whole banning of gay marriage thing. Good job, California. You failed too.

-So yeah, they busted a terrorist cell in New York who were planning to blow up some synagogues and shoot down some planes. Where did the terrorists get the missiles and the bombs? From the FBI, who had been stringing them along for 11 months. Interestingly enough, this article never uses the word "entrapment", but go figure. I never did take criminal justice.

-While you may not be that frightened of swine flu anymore, here's a fun one for you: white-nose syndrome. It's a fungal infection killing America's bats by the thousands, with half a million dead so far. That means that at least 2.4 million pounds of insects won't be eaten this year alone. Have a great summer! Being itchy and irritable!

-Lexington is a man after my own black heart this week, with an out-of-nowhere Must Read To Believe column about how incredibly good the Onion is. Yes, the Onion. I know! Lexington likes the Onion a hell of a lot more than Absolutely Every Other Humorist In America. He wrote a column about it. That's what we call Fucking Fantastic Stuff.

The Americas

-First up, this already hit the internet in a big way. It's the Guatemalan youtube video of Rodrigo Rosenberg that he recorded prior to his murder on May 10th, where he opens by saying "If you are watching this message it is because I have been murdered by President Alvaro Colom." Yeah. That one. Colom denied the allegations, and at first it seemed he was going to bury the investigation. Something changed though--probably the viral quality the video had, it must have been picked up by all and sundry within two days--and Guatamaela has asked the UN and the FBI to help out. There's not a lot of evidence at this point, and the Economist plays the story pretty gingerly. Either way, it's damning stuff, and the case made in Rosenberg's video is a frightening one. If you haven't watched it yet, do so.

-Did you know that the Brazilian Supreme Court was considered a joke? Or that was it "the most overburdened court in the world"? Shit, I didn't. What do you read, that you knew that? Ahh, too late, they're going to fix it now.

-Although it's tempting to gloss over another article about corporations using the Cayman Islands as a tax-haven, you really never should, simply for statements like this. "[President] Obama has pointed to Ugland House, the Cayman Islands' office of a law firm, Maples and Calder, which last year was the legally registered address of 18,857 companies and other bodies, almost half of which had an American billing address." The tiresome thing about these stories is that the blame seems to get doled out first to American corporations, with a second helping to the fucking Cayman Islands, and then nobody has any steam left over to say "fix the completely jacked up American tax code." Jesus, when did these posts get so editorial? I should mind my own business.

Asia

-In case you haven't caught on to how much of a fuckup John Yettaw is, here's your chance. Now, it's pretty shitty to be pissy towards a Vietnam veteran around Memorial Day, but it isn't like Yettaw gave anybody a choice. On his second attempt to use wooden flippers to swim, uninvited, over to the house where the Burmese junta keeps Aung San Suu Kyi under arrest, he succeeded. (He had a vision she was going to get murdered, because he's a crazy person.) The junta are using this particular incident to show off what a great example of fucking trash they are, and charging her with breaking the terms of her house arrest. (She's under house arrest because she's a non-fucked up human being that Myanmar made the mistake of voting for years ago, thinking they were allowed to purse representative democracy.) And yeah, sure: the Burmese military junta is really to blame. But still: goddammit John Yettaw. Why couldn't you be a spat-upon homeless veteran ignored on subways, the way America's rich prefers?

-Having seen next week's issue of Economist online, I can tell you that they're having as hard of a time keeping up with Kim Jong Il's current crazy-by-the-minute shit as everybody else is. Here's the first of what looks to be many already out of date articles on the crap he pulled last week. (Notably, shutting down North Korean participation in the one bright economic spot they had, the Kaesong industrial zone.)

-A rare moment of uncomfortable early retirement in the higher echelons of the Chinese government happened last week, all due to the three month old fire that destroyed the ridiculous "big trousers" complex built for the sickly Chinese state broadcaster. Interesting story, but I had to resort to google to see what it looked like. Disappointed in you, Economist.

-Banyan's focus continues to be on China, and this is one of those list-Chinese-problems so nobody gets too cocky columns. Not bad, but a little repetitive of previous issues. Come to think of it, he/she probably wrote those, so hey: no re-runs in your first couple of months. Uncool.

Middle East and Africa

-The Somalian gangs and warlords have found another way towards being scary as hell, as their ranks are being swelled by American, British, Italian, Arab, Chechen, Pakistani and Uzbek fighters, all eager to kill. What's the attraction? An opportunity to play insurgent religious extremist in a country that has all but been abandoned by the world. Their current goal is to provoke Ethiopia to attack the country, which they hope will unify all the various groups into one massive force of horror, which the warlords hope to control.

-South Africa's new transport minister decided not to hold onto the two cows and six figure Mercedes he was given as a gift, but he's keeping the flat-screen and wine glasses. I'm being serious, by the way. In South Africa, bribes take the form of prizes from The Price Is Right. I'm going to buy a South African city next year. Just gotta find a good set of steak knives.

-Binyamin Netanyahu met Barack Obama, and while it didn't go as badly as when Bill Clinton used to deal with the guy, it still didn't go that well. Note to Israeli prime ministers: when visiting the US President for the first time, say hello and talk about nice things for a good couple of minutes before launching into "an apocalyptic lecture on 4,000 years of Jewish history." Not that the US President won't be interested. It's just that lectures make really bad first impressions.

-Kuwait elected some women to parliament, and the Economist hopes that's going to be the first of the many steps required for Kuwait's democracy to stop looking as shitty as it does. Kind of an odd story to read, as it paints an excellent reason for why forcing Iraq to vote didn't work so well: they had a godawful version of what voting did right next door, anytime they wanted an example. Still, this is pretty good news.

Europe

-The Economist does their best to write an article about Dalia Grybauskaite, the new Lithunian president. Their best means one that's very short, has some odd personal details, and uses the word "tough" to describe her personality and potential leadership style for about 30% of the word count.

-This article about how miserably the Turkish government is treating their Kurdish citizens is just fucking irritating as hell. It's like reading those articles about how fucked up Somalia was last year, because it's just paragraph after paragraph of how those in power disenfranchise and mistreat an entire class of people, never grasping the fact that those people will eventually reach a point where the only solution they look to is one of violence. This shit right here? It always ends badly. 

-Charlemagne gears up to start writing about the upcoming Irish referendum on the EU's Lisbon treaty, but considering that the vote won't be until fall, you can bet that this won't be the last time it's in the magazine. I love Ireland, it's one of my favorite places on the planet, but the fact that there are still Irish citizens who believe that voting yes means that they could be conscripted into a magical European army is aggravating. It's totally within their rights to say no to the treaty. It would be nice if that "no" wasn't based on completely made-up bullshit.

Britain

-Nice big article about the ejection of Michael Martin, forced to resign on May 19th due to the blow-up over the expense scandal. He wasn't the most overtly greedy of the bunch, but he sure did a shit job of handling this whole controversy, huh? First time the speaker of the Commons has been ejected since 1695, so yeah, this is sort of a big deal.

-Although I can see how some might take this story about a soldier having "right to life" as a sort of slippery slope where civilian courts get bogged down with parents and spouses suing the government for the death of their soldier relatives, this specific case--where Private Jason Smith died of heat stroke only because the army failed to treat him properly--seems like one they might want to shy away from. Soldiers die, that's a necessary part of their job, but somebody should hold the Army accountable for when it fails this miserably to protect its own.

-I liked this Bagehot column a whole lot. Here's a quote as to why, and its a quote that applies to me, America's bloggers, and the majority of the news media's most popular pundits, especially when the language gets overblown: "It is brave to attend a protest rally in Burma. It is brave to be an independent journalist in Russia. It is brave to be a human-rights monitor in Syria. In Britain heads roll or are impaled on spikes only metaphorically. Only ink actually gets spilt: there will not be blood. The costs of sticking out a neck are pifflingly low."

International

-I normally give the international section shit, and that's because it seems like half the time the Economist doesn't know what to shove into it. That's not the case this time, where they devote the whole thing to the unsettling land acquisition going on among the food importers of rich countries. You can take a look at the chart to see it in living color, but here's the simple breakdown: corporations from rich countries--or the actual governments of rich companies--are buying up the farmland in poor countries. The problems that can come out of this are extensive, the most obvious being that poor countries are usually run in a corrupt fashion, meaning that the land being sold can potentially be farmland that the impoverished depend on--they just aren't able to pay as much for the food it produces. This one is long, and it may not be to your liking: but the potential for truly awful shit is higher than just about every other article this week.

Business

-Europe's small businesses may be facing a much tougher economic climate, one where it's difficult for them to finance and seek out loans, but they're surviving--and in some cases, flourishing--in a way that their larger European brethren are not. For all the articles you read that label America as "turning into France", here's one that points to how plenty of people in Europe are just as interested in small business start-ups and entrepreneurial endeavors as the US is, despite the culture being one that usually ignores them. For the second time this week: good news!

-GM and Chrysler have wanted to cut down on the amount of dealerships they've had for a long time, and the threat of bankruptcy, as well as government involvement, have finally made it possible. It's interesting to see how much control dealerships have been able to exert over local governments--god knows, if you've ever been down South, you could make the jump.

-Apparently the best-selling Chinese books are pretty much illegally printed, since only a few major publishers are allocated the serial numbers required to make them above board, and those major publishers--state owned--rarely print anything people want. That's changing now, as the shadow economy of private "culture studios" are joining up with the big guys to make the whole thing kosher. The Economist is mildly cynical about it, and rightly so. State-owned publishers haven't been able to figure out what the Chinese people want to read for years, and the likelihood of them letting artsy types call the shots isn't good. Hey! Let's call this one: "Developing."

-What do you do when you're a Japanese wigmaker who doesn't want to be bought out by an American investment fund? Sell out to whatever japanese company you can find at a huge japanese-only discount.

-Although I haven't watched the Girlfriend Experience on television yet, I totally could, and apparently the whole release-first-run-films on television for profit is apparently working out pretty well. Considering how mad theater owners got with Soderbergh back when Bubble dropped on DVD same-day as theatrical release, this story has some strands the Economist ignores, but still: good stuff.

-Here's a pretty obvious breakdown of why GM's shareholders are going to take their chances in bankruptcy court instead of accepting the buy-out that Fritz Henderson offered. Looks like we'll get to find out whether or not GM is "too big to fail" or not, in living color.

-Face Value covers Jacqueline Novogratz, a former corporate banker who set up a "social venture capital fund". Although the testorestone in me screams that you can only call someone a badass when they do something involving cars and explosions, Novograntz hits pretty close to the definition, despite having no obvious Karl Urban comparisons. "I don't live in a world of shoulds." Hell yeah, lady. You make the bottom 99% look like a bunch of useless loudmouths. Impressive.

Finance and Economics

And yeah, the section was fine this week, but the only one that really jumped for me was the three-page briefing on oil. When you get into the nuts and bolts of the oil business, it's easy to see why so many give their lives over to it. Fascinating stuff.

Science and Technology

-Short version: satellites can determine the level of photosynthesis in plants. Due to the research of David Rogers, a link between those levels and the size of a west Afrian tsetse fly's veins has been confirmed. (One specific vein, which is in their wing of the fly.) There's a sweet spot the vein hits, where the likelihood of the fly spreading disease skyrockets to epidemic proportions. By chunking all this various data into a computer, satellites--which were gathering the data already, so no additional work is necessary--it's now a matter of reading the numbers to predict, and therefore take proactive steps against, any number of the diseases these types of insect can spread. It's already seen success, after NASA researchers were able to give Kenya a heads up back in October of '07. Great shit.

-There's a connection between eczema and asthma, so if either of those cause you problems, rock out with your cock out. Boom goes the link.

-It turns out that animals do actually have personalities, after a study on birds revealed some pretty interesting behavioral patterns. But the real story here is buried at the bottom of the article--if the study performed on the birds is accurate, it could put into jeopardy every single scientific study that used animals caught in traps. All of those studies are dependent on one kind of animal--arrogant ones.

Books and Arts

Let's move through these quickly, because the only one that registered as being worth checking out with me is the Congo war play Ruined, which just won the Pulitzer prize.

1: Hey, there was an industrial revolution in Britain, read about it sometime.

2: Even in a secret diary, Chinese communist leader can't bring himself to criticize the people who fired him and blamed him for tons of shit that wasn't his fault.

3: Iran! It's a country!

4: So is Spain!

Obituary: Velupillai Prabhakaran

-Out of all of the articles on the Sri Lankan/Tamil Tigers conflict that the Economist has written, this one--an obituary for the Tiger commander--is probably at the top of the pile by pure writing standards. It's a brutal trick they play here--an obituary of a man who is either defined as terrorist or hero, depending on who's talking--and it worked out really well. The only thing that might be worth adding?

Good riddance. The guy was a fucking monster. The Tamil people have very real concerns, very real problems, and Sri Lanka has been absolutely horrible at dealing with those in any decent way. All that Prabhakaran did was force the debate to be about one thing, and that's violence. That's the only legacy he earned, and it's the only one he deserves.

Music of the Weak: David Bowie’s Discography in 12 Songs (Part One)

“Janine” (from Man of Words/Man of Music or Space Oddity, 1969)

“Space Oddity” is the common, obvious starting place for David Bowie’s career as we know it. It’s his earliest, best-known song—the one that shows up at the beginning of his collections, and has been released as a single no less than 3 times. But “Space Oddity” is also a little bit doofy—if you ever needed an excuse to stay away from Bowie’s body of work, it would give you plenty of them. Basically “A Day in the Life” rewritten as a novelty song about an astronaut, “Space Oddity” is draped in pretense, with Bowie over-annunciating and over-acting his words in order to emphasize that he’s making a Big Statement. Of course, it’s also awesome—at turns gorgeous and rockin’, assured in its drama. Yet, for every grand gesture in “Space Oddity,” there’s something off-puttingly geeky—the countdown to take-off, the laser-light show space noises, Bowie playing both sides of the dialogue between Major Tom and ground control (“Tell my wife I love her very much,” “She knows.”) Yes, it’s a fitting introduction to David Bowie’s career, all right.

“Janine,” from the same album, Man of Words/Man of Music (later mercifully retitled after “Space Oddity”), is a different kind of touchstone for early David Bowie. It could be a song by the Faces or the Rolling Stones—a blues-influenced rock song featuring Bowie playing cool, rather than allowing himself to be as overtly geeky as in “Space Oddity,” except for when he pronounces the title character’s name with a French “zh” sound. Where “Space Oddity” captures an eager, over-zealous Bowie, in love with the drama he’s creating, “Janine” captures the Bowie who doesn’t quite know who he is, but can write a hell of a song, even if he is mimicking someone else. Those two sides of Bowie’s personality—the part that knows he’s kind of a nerd, and the part that knows how to play cool—influence just about every piece of music in his catalogue.

“The Width of a Circle” (from The Man Who Sold the World, 1970)

“The Width of a Circle,” the long opener from The Man Who Sold the World, features Mick Ronson going buck wild on the electric guitar (a big change from the acoustics that flavored most of Man of Words/Man of Music) and Bowie turning in a vocal performance not far removed from Ozzy Osbourne. The interplay between the two makes the song, as Ronson’s heavy playing gives Bowie’s composition a hard edge not heard anywhere else in his catalogue, and allows the singer to earn his elegant vocal flights, rather than indulge in them.

“Life on Mars?” (from Hunky Dory, 1971)

It’s a little misleading to call Hunky Dory a turning point in David Bowie’s career, because his career is made-up entirely of turning points. And it’s a little misleading to say that, in 1971, he was beginning to find his voice as an artist, because his work nearly always thrives on his search for a voice—that wouldn’t end once he locked in the band that would eventually become The Spiders from Mars, it would continue for the rest of his career. Hunky Dory does, however, find Bowie more confident in his lack of an actual artistic voice than any of his prior albums, and “Life on Mars?” demonstrates that fragility of character better than any other song on the album. That’s why the title ends in a question mark.

“Suffragette City” (from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, 1972)

“Suffragette City”—like most of The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars—is an impersonation of rock & roll attitude so good that it manages to be more rock & roll than the glam rock icons David Bowie was impersonating. It’s hard to imagine now, 35-some-odd years out, but it’s as if Adam Lambert put out a song and an album that tried to convince everyone how cool he is, even though he was on American Idol, and, somehow, it worked. This is some Justin Timberlake level shit. It’s Raymond Chandler, creating a whole new era of toughness, simply by exercising his vocabulary. There are few lines in rock better than “Don’t lean on me man, ‘cause you can’t afford the ticket back from Suffragette City.”

“Panic in Detroit” (from Aladdin Sane, 1973)

Aladdin Sane plays a bit like a collection of B-sides from Ziggy Stardust. Bowie probably could have built an entire career out of the ideas that came up on these two albums. “Panic in Detroit,” for example, snakes the rhythm section from Bo Diddley’s “Bo Diddley” (the Bo Diddley beat, yo), channels it through the Stooges’ proto-punk rawness, hits new levels of pretense by name-checking Che Guevara in the first line, and rounds it out by bringing in a couple of back-up singers who would fit right in on a Rolling Stones record.

“Rebel Rebel (U.S. Single Version)” (from Rebel Rebel 7”, 1974)

Many of David Bowie’s best songs seem like they should be faster than they are. “Young Americans,” “Diamond Dogs,” “Golden Years,” “Heroes,” and “Rebel Rebel” all sound like they want to rev up to full tilt, but Bowie restrains them—which is not really a problem; the leisurely pace give Bowie a set of walls to throw himself against. Still, the U.S. single version of “Rebel Rebel” improves on the album version with a shorter running time and a slightly more aggressive attack. Bowie wastes no time before chewing on the opening, “Hot tramp, I love you so,” and his verses and choruses are punctuated with vocal riffs and echoes. “Rebel Rebel” was originally written to be part of a Ziggy Stardust musical. When the project was scrapped, it became the characters’ swan song.

Next Week: Some Brian Eno shit, some plastic soul, and one of the most bizarre collaborations imaginable.

--Martin Brown, 2009

Phallus Dei: And Woe Did They Lay Down Their Burdens, For Ye Shalt Know A Duck Named Howard

Man-Thing Part One Man-Thing Part Two Man-Thing Part Three

Adventure Into Fear # 19 & Man-Thing # 1

Written by Steve Gerber

Art by Val Mayerik & Sal Trapani

Published by Marvel Comics, 1973-74

Obviously, things aren't going as planned right now, but before the torches and pitchforks come out...these two issues aren't bad at all. Besides the introduction of Howard The Duck, this is the strongest of Gerber's "Crisis" style stories thus far. It seems pretty obvious what the comparisons are-the opening pages of Fear aren't that far removed from the Multiverse Mash-Ups that DC had started playing with in the early 60's JLA books, and, if you just tweaked the on-frame characters, you'd have something that wouldn't be out of place in 1985's Crisis On Infinite Earths. Although I'm not the best of comics scholars, I'm going to assume that the barbarian hordes here are some kind of Conan stand-ins, and while the GI's they're fighting could have come from any war comic, I'd guess that Gerber had something more specific in mind. (From what Noah and I have read so far, most of these stories include some kind of veiled reference points.) And while some portions of these two issues do falter a bit as they work to move through a somewhat "all-in" approach to plotting, the moments of crazy inspiration are pretty successful. For instance, when a jar of peanut butter becomes a jar of man.You can't fault Gerber's explanation for what's going on either--sure, it's a little cloying that corporate greed and environmental negligence has resulted in a "catastrophe" that might result in the collapse of existence due to what happens when "alternate universes collide"--but honestly, none of those types of dialog have ever worked, regardless of writer. Crisis On Infinite Earths wasn't tense or upsetting because a bunch of random no-name Earths might be destroyed, making it impossible for Superman to date himself, it was tense and upsetting because specific characters that people liked might be destroyed. Nobody cares about the physics of apocalypse, the alternate realities of milkmen, and nobody gives a shit if the fake Batman from Earth-19 dies. But again, around the time that all that overcooked explanation starts to wear--in walks Howard.

He only appears in five panels in Fear. Here's two more of them.

And you know what? I like him already. I don't know why he's there, or what he was supposed to do or mean, or any of that. To be honest, I didn't realize until I went to wikipedia that this is actually his first appearance. But fuck it, he's a smoking duck, he reminds me of Groucho Marx for no explainable reason, and he's...well, he's a smoking duck with a funny hat. Oddly enough, the Conan-stand-in seems to share my feelings, because he likes and respects him immediately as well. Considering that most of Korrek's speeches and actions so far have painted his character as an aggressive jump-first type of character, it makes Howard that much more interesting when you see him tell the barbarian to shut up. Why does Howard get to order around Conan and treat Man-Thing like a retarded golden retriever? Gerber doesn't say. He doesn't need to. Howard gets to do that stuff because he's Howard The Duck.

From here to the end of Man-Thing # 1, which continues right where Fear leaves off, the tempo and crazy stays pretty high. We're introduced to the Overmaster--not the cross-dressing Overmaster from DC, but the Marvel skin-suit wearing Overmaster--a group called the Congress of Realities, which has a remarkable similarity to Alan Moore's "look at all these characters from different stories" feel to it, Jennifer Kale is saved from execution by Daredevil and the Black Widow in a 1.5 panel cameo appearance, Howard the Duck "dies" for no good reason whatsoever, which Korrek takes very seriously, and it all ends with this famous scene:

And we're on some solid ground here, I'd have to say. Everything-and-the-kitchen-sink comics may be pretty popular nowadays, but these two issues are witty, and the overall speed with which Gerber is throwing stuff at the wall is a lot stronger than the snail's pace with which the previous wizards and warlocks stuff went down. I don't find this art particularly special, but it's readable and unobtrusive. Either way, the question of "why is this a cult classic" came up at the end of Noah's last post, and while two issues may not completely answer it, these two are particularly special. Besides predating Crisis On Infinite Earths, this is clearly a comic that sits alongside the work of Brendan McCarthy as being a big inspiration to Grant Morrison, whether he credits it or not. (He totally could, I have no idea.) From what I've heard, there's a far more blatant antecedent on the way. Smooth sailing from here on out? Maybe?

Man-Thing # 2-3

Written by Steve Gerber

Art by Val Mayerik, Sal Trapani & Jack Abel

Published by Marvel Comics, 1974

Or maybe we're not. After all the craziness involved in the previous issues, these two issues drop back into The Stories Of Normal People, and their Interactions With The Swamp Monster. Some guy named Richard Rory runs out of gas, hangs out in the swamp, he meets Man-Thing, Man-Thing saves him from some alligators, a biker gang shows up, Shit Happens, and it's all very predictable until the apperance of some dandy fop named Foolkiller.

I don't really care about that. I want to look at this again, it's from Fear # 11.

You know what's amazing about that panel? Right there, in the middle. Man-Thing, questioning whether or not he has to kill Jennifer and Andy. The way it's presented there is that the question isn't up to Man-Thing--it's completely up to those two. If they are scared, Man-Thing burns them. That's the way he operates. It doesn't have to anything to do with innocence, it doesn't have anything to do with right or wrong, it's a yes/no question. If you're scared, you burn. From what I've read since that panel, that simple premise seems to have been totally abandoned. Instead, Man-Thing keeps entering situations where he sides with the victim. Is that as interesting? I don't think it is. But he keeps being portrayed as some kind of hero, and that makes it necessary for Gerber give him some direct reason for participating in conflicts that don't involve him in any way beyond his physical proximity. Apparently, that has something to do with his empathy, which works like some kind of radio receiver for when people are desperate or pathetic--but it still doesn't fit, and it's nowhere near as interesting as the way he's presented in that middle panel, where he's just some wild animal with a rudimentary code.

I used to work as an emergency technician at a veterinary clinic, which is an overly long way of saying "night nurse", and part of what I did was work with rescue dogs. The reason we'd get them instead of the Humane Society was because they were rescue dogs that came out of illegal fight clubs or hardcore abuse situations, the kind of animals that needed professional rehabilitation if they were going to end up adopted. (That's the kind of program rich people pay for instead of helping homeless people.) You'd have to work with these dogs--most of which were abnormally aggressive, due to their always-horrific background--and you'd have to be really fucking careful all the time. Wear protective gear, follow protocol, accept that they were never going to be remotely trustworthy--because if they ever did become "good" dogs, that meant they'd get passed onto places staffed by 15 year olds. You only dealt with animals that were basically feral. One of them...I thought I got along really good with, and I'd worked with her for almost six months. And then one night when she was getting returned to the little room she slept in, the lightbulb shorted out and she tried to rip my throat out. I'm trying to keep her teeth away, and she gets my hand in her mouth, and bang--it was like stomping on ketchup packets. The bones just popped in her mouth, there's blood everywhere, and the only reason the thing still works correctly is because I got away the best I could. And yeah, I was pretty upset. My hand's shattered, two of my fingernails stayed in her mouth, and the nerves in my thumb don't work anymore.

But it wasn't her fault. It was mine. I knew what she was, and I fucked up and paid the price for it. And that's what Man-Thing started off as being, and what he occasionally still is, in this series. A feral monster that has no conscience or moral code, no connection to man or animal, and a brutally simple equation with which to live his life by. 

Problems? Fear? Kill it. 

In that middle panel, or in the portions of these issues where he kills any animal that gets in his way, he's a pretty exciting character to read about. He's not stopping to play with the plants the way Alan Moore's Swamp Thing does, he's not petting little girls on the head, he's not making quips, he's not trying to save anybody--he's just trying to maintain a weird, self-centered peace, where nobody bothers him. It's those moments that make or break these non-crazy-peanut butter Conan stories. Those moments when Gerber just embraces what he initially created, which was a character who didn't struggle at all with being a monster, the way the Hulk or the Thing so often do. And yet, as we're getting deeper and deeper into this series, the more I'm finding that aspect of the character being left behind, and what's provided in place of that simplicity is something that doesn't particularly interest me at all. I hope that changes. The wild animal, the dangerous monster--that's a tension builder I want to keep up with, a character whose actions are far more fascinating because of the unsettling notion that he's a monster who has one solution, and he has no responsibility for what that solution entails. When the Man-Thing's weird, fucked up code of conduct is the primary mover for these stories--like the pages where he savagely kills his way through the alligators that surround Richard at the beginning of this story, or when he does the same in the later issue's splash page sequence--these comics have a touch of greatness to them, generic art notwithstanding. But when those same moments are stained with a pointless "save some assholes" motive, it undercuts the story, and it makes this particular character into a super-hero that it doesn't seem capable of becoming. To put it bluntly? He makes for an iconic monster.

He's a terrible Hawkman.

-Tucker Stone, 2009

Phallus Dei: Steve Gerber, Swerve Captain

The last time Noah Berlatsky's Hooded Utilitarian teamed up with the Factual Opinion, it was for five hundred pages of Batman's Brave & The Bold. This time, it's all Man-Thing, all the time. Part one is here. Part two begins...now:

Adventure Into Fear # 11

Written by Steve Gerber

Art by Rich Buckler & Jim Mooney

Published by Marvel Comics, 1972

Because comics are what they are, it's time to introduce some recurring characters into the Man-Thing mix--Gerber either didn't want or wasn't allowed to just fire off one-shot tales into the ether. Get ready: these two kids are pretty fucking dull! Jennifer and Andy are a brother/sister duo looked after by their cult-leading Dr. Strange wanna-be granddad. They live near the swamp. Jennifer is headstrong, with a take charge kind of personality to match her voracious curiosity. She's also attractive, shapely, and has a peace symbol belt buckle. Good thing too! The local kids think she is weird. Andy on the other hand, now he's a bit of a worrier. Younger than Jenny, he wonders if her curiosity might get the two into various pickles. He's quick to whip out a threat, but you don't really get the sense that he's got the street smarts or physical prowess to back them up. 

In other words, these two are Scooby Doo characters looking for a mascot to keep them safe from harm. Enter? Man-Thing!

The two kids have stolen away granddad's version of the Necronomicon, and like any good plot-drivers, they've headed into the Man-Thing's domain for a bit of the old demonic summoning. Since the two of them have the patience of hummingbirds, they fail to notice that the spell works immediately, and a demon arrives to wreak some havoc at the movie theater. By the time Man-Thing decides to get involved, having decided to look after our stalwart youngsters out of some kind of protective feeling (as well as demand-of-plot), the fucker has already ruined the late night screening of Monsters From Beyond, Gremlins 2 style. After some back and forth fighting between the demon and Man-Thing where its revealed via the narrator that Man-Thing's power is derived from the swamp, the kids burn the Book Of Souls and the demon disappears.

This isn't a particularly exciting comic. Surprised? Yeah, it doesn't really sound like one, does it? The art is pleasant, and Andy has the potential to go from irritating bonehead to lovable depending on how much dialog he's given, but it's still just a couple of kids playing with a book version of a ouija board and getting their asses saved by the local Frankenstein monster. That's not to say that there aren't some excellent moments--the final panels of the comic feature Man-Thing questioning whether or not he must kill the children he's just struggled to save, and the only reason they survive is because the two of them don't show any fear at his presence.

It's a nice idea, that Man-Thing is such a risky livewire, that anybody could be his victim--innocent or no, if you get scared by the massive swamp monster, the massive swamp monster is going to burn you down. We'll see. Jennifer and Andy come back, along with thier yet-to-be-introduced grandfather. But first, we've got to deal with a parable on racism, Man-Thing style.

Adventures Into Fear # 12

Written by Steve Gerber

Art by Jim Starlin & Rich Buckler

Published by Marvel Comics, 1972

Well, there we go, it's Solomon's Gambit, Man-Thing style. What starts off predictably enough--a black man fleeing a racist sheriff bent on slaughter--takes a definite turn when it turns out that the black man isn't some innocent babe in the woods, but a twisted murderer as well. Man-Thing ends up stuck between two people, neither of whom really 'deserve' the kind of help he has to offer, because Man-Thing's help comes in one flavor: A HORRIBLE DEATH. You could figure this story pretty easily if it was a Batman one--both guys, white and black, would end up in some court, paying the price of justice in jail time, but in the swamp? The only law is Man-Thing law, and Man-Thing law is a hell of a lot more final. Either way, things play out rather nicely, extensive prosaic narration notwithstanding.

I couldn't tell you how Noah feels about it, but the loss of the 2nd person narration stings a little. It's not that I'm craving a Bright Lights, Man-Thing, Big City  comic, but the omniscient voice that teases Man-Thing along, "...the hazy eyes of a shadowy, once-human CREATURE peer out, dully watching, barely comprehending..." is just too Tales From The Crypt-y for me, after some of the stuff that came before. "His words--like nearly all words--mean little to you, Man-Thing." I don't know. It's a little thing, but I miss it already. Haven't read that far ahead, maybe it comes back.

Adventures Into Fear # 13-14

Written by Steve Gerber

Art by Val Mayerik, Frank Bolle & Chic Stone

Published by Marvel Comics, 1973

And then we get to this, and I'm wondering what the hell is going on. First things first: Andy and Jennifer are back, and they're still walking wide-eyed into danger. Apparently burning Granddad's Satanic Bible didn't go over very well with the cult that Granddad runs out of his fucking garage. Although Gerber changes things up a bit--the cult, at this stage at least, are actually looking to protect the world from the evil that lurks in the hearts of men...wait, sorry, the evil that lurks in the swamp, that's it. They believe they can rely on Man-Thing to help them out, and while I'm hoping they turn out to be miserably wrong, things aren't looking good. What they're looking like--deep breath, pants hitched--is this comic turning into some kind of Man-Thing as protector story, and that's just not as interesting as watching him settle disagreements by the Fear/Burn You To Death test.

Where there be cults and Crime Bibles, there be demons, that makes sense. But flying cars?

And just like that, we're off into alternate dimensions, or demonic dimensions...look, it doesn't really matter. Where we are is Not The Swamp, and who we are surrounded by is not People Who Are Scared, which means that Man-Thing isn't doing the whole burning thing. No, what he's doing is going through the whole Steve Gerber version of Stan Lee turning The Thing into Ben Grimm. Now, I'm not really sure I have a complaint about that--it would be kind of silly to look at some Marvel Comic from 1973 and give it shit for giving us that particular moment--but it's just a random hallucination played out much too quickly. Ted Sallis figures out that all he has to do to keep his human form (and his femme fatale ex-girlfriend) is kill Andy, Jennifer & Grandad the Cult Leader. Like a good put-upon Marvel victim, he embraces his responsibility to the world as its roving dispenser of Fear Melting, and boom, we're back at square one. (Although he gets to punish his ex-girlfriend again.) Still--Ted Sallis? Was he really that heroic? Why did that have to be part of his core make-up? 

The next issue starts off well--the world is going insane, with little kids beating each other mercilessly, secretaries high-kicking their bosses, and best of all, this guy right here.

We all know that feeling. But what makes it really special is the pipe. Road rage without a pipe? That's amateur hour. And while this little gem gets followed up by Man-Thing killing his way through the birds and gators of the swamp, it ends up right back in the hands of Granddad & Jennifer, with Andy relegated to bystander status, thus depriving me of more of his "holy ___" witticisms, which I was beginning to enjoy. Gerber goes for broke, and throws Man-Thing into another barbaric realm, there's a gladiator fight with some demons, and...really, I don't care. I don't fucking care. I'd have been plenty happy if the whole story had been about Man-Thing settling his problems back in the swamp, killing animals with his bare hands. Let the world hang. Why does he care? Now, the story tells us why he cares--Gerber's given him some kind of protective--possibly love, ugh--feelings towards Jennifer, which means Man-Thing goes where she goes, even if that's Planet Skaar. But I can't help but look at the first page of the next issue--fighter jets! Man-Thing versus a fighter jet? Why can't I be reading that?

Goddamn you, Noah Berlatsky. Are you scared? Is that fear?

Better not be. Fucking burn you face off.

-Tucker Stone, 2009

Television Of The Weak: What Does A Television Column Do When All Of Its Shows Are On Hiatus

This week, we've got The Mighty Boosh, The Apprentice UK, Glee & The Real Housewives of New Jersey. We've also got our first "Did I miss something important" take on Bones, courtesy of Martin Brown.

Wait, The Real Housewives of New Jersey? 

The Real Housewives of New Jersey by Nina Stone

Two weeks ago - my husband walked in on me. He walked in on me while I was indulging in my pleasure. My Secret Pleasure. My pleasure called The Real Housewives of New York City. That's right. My name is Nina, and I'm addicted to The Real Housewives.

Much to my surprise and delight, my husband is tickled to death to see that I have a little pop-culture obsession. I mean, got on this train late, and then couldn't stop trying to catch up. Bravo repeats and my DVR are my best friend now. And did you see that reunion special?! SEVEN hours of taping! They had to break it into two parts! Oh, man, just when I got caught up it's all over. I bought Bethany's book because I just LOVE her - and can't get enough. She's the soy milk in my organic coffee.

So, I was flipping through channels and there it was, on Bravo, The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I mean, it was 8pm, a new episode was beginning and BANG! I'm back in. Hooked. I mean we all know that New Jersey is NOT New York - but this shit is just mind blowing in its criz-aziness and shallow factor. Oh - and my favorite quote that's in all the previews? "Let me tell you something about my family - we are as thick as thieves." Because, as I and the rest of America have already figured out, you ARE thieves!

I mean, c'mon. We all just watched 10 years of the Sopranos, living in NJ, in houses just like that. You're all Italian? Your husbands own construction companies and restaurants?! Gimme a break! NO, wait, don't. This is gonna be HILARIOUS! I'm gonna go catch up now, and I'll catch you next week with the latest. TTFN!* *Ta-Ta for now.

Nina's racist opinions on The Real Housewives of New Jersey are her own, and TFO in no way assigns criminal behavior to the show's "characters."

Also, Nina is a Jew.

The Mighty Boosh: "Tundra" by Sean Witzke

"There's things in here you've never dreamed of" 

"Like what?"
"Rubies?"
"I've dreamed of rubies"
"Lesbian ham?"

This episode Howard eats vomit.

Cut - the opening, which at this point is just going to happen. The biggest problem is that in the first season, there is almost always a callback to something said with Howard and Vince in front of the curtain. This week - there's a shot of Vince with goat's legs which makes no sense, but it's still here. Bob Fossil giving all his employees shit for their appearances, such as "Hey Kerouac you gona do something with that hair?"

The inciting incident for the whole episode - with Dixon Bainbridge and Bob Fossil yelling at Howard and Vince - is out, which sucks because it's mostly Matt Berry making fun of Howard's mustache. They kept in Fossil and Bainbrige's acapella rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" in it's entirety, because they goddamn better. Fossil and Bainbridge's relationship on this show is pretty much Matt and Rich's relationship on Snuff Box. Only Bob Fossil wants to have sex with Dixon Bainbridge. And Dixon Bainbridge seems to be more of a schemer, and Snuff Box Matt Berry can't deal with that shit. The first of many references to Fleetwood Mac's Tusk are made here - Naboo listening to it, and Berry's reaction at it's mention is like someone stomped a cat to death in front of him. Which, hey, is understandable. Naboo haggling for Kit Kat's is out though. Everything after the halfway point is 100% intact, which is probably only indicative that they cut so much in the first half they hit their time restriction.

"Tundra" the song may only be # 2 on the list of best songs the Boosh have ever written, but it is definitely the catchiest. Like, mindworm catchy, like spacing out waiting for something inevitably finds you drumming "ICE! FLOW! NOWHERE TO GO!" on counters and things. It's has the distinction of being the only song that's made its way through the Adult Swim cuts in it's entirety. Which, hey good choice on their part. (It's probably just because a) it's short and b) it's actually important to the "plot".)

Vince talks a lot about Gary Numan in this one, which is fantastic. The Boosh head up to the arctic by hitching a ride on Numan's jet, looking for a magical egg or something. Vince finds a dead body, which gives them a clue towards finding the egg. Howard goes crazy, gets kidnapped by jawas in parkas. Vince also spends a lot of time with a friendly polar bear. They get tied up by the jawas for the Black Frost to kill. The Black Frost is Noel Fielding dressed up like the big god thing from Nightbreed in cowboy boots, with Drum and Bass blaring everytime he does anything. He freezes people with his genitals. Then he's beaten up by a polar bear. There's a lesson in that. Speaking of lessons, the ending here getting cut off before a morale is deliberate - was stolen from the Simpsons.

There's a great super-simple joke of Howard saying "my only friend is the wind" and the wind responding "I hate you". Genius.

Glee: "Pilot" by Nina Stone

Oh man, I was so excited for this. The commercials looked so great. "Being a part of something special makes you special." My impression was this was going to be like the vibe of Buffy's high school, mixed with the feeling of Stuckeyville and Ed, with a side of Parker Lewis Can't Lose. With singing.

Thing is - something was off. I can't totally put my finger on it yet. It's like, we've got caricatures as characters. Which is fine. I can like that. But the emotional tumult, climaxes and resolutions happened too quickly, too obviously. Or, you know what? My problem is that the singers were all too good. Don't get me wrong. I love good singing. But just like in a song, you have to build up to the powerful high note. If everything's that pitch and volume, it loses the charm. Can't there be a struggle for some people to get into glee club? Let some of them really need to be there, but not be good enough--and then let them grow as singers and "team players" as the show goes on.

And likewise, when they were having a rehearsal and got all fed up at how bad they were - um...they weren't. Vocally? It was great. The choreography was bad. But they weren't. And from there, the lead girl storms off and declares she's going to quit? (Or something like that, I may have it a little out of order, but my point is still the same.) It doesn't really make any sense. If she's gonna get mad about them being bad, they need to be bad.

Likewise, our main character's wife? What's up with that? This guy would never be married to that girl. No way. They're not operating in the same galaxy. It's like some choices on this show are so wrong that they end up throwing off the calibration of the whole show. If she's going to be that much of a dumb narcissist, than our guy needs to exhibit this head-over-heels love that he has for her that rings so true we (the audience) just accept it and believe it. OR, she has to have something somewhat likeable about her. Like, Cordelia on Buffy. But it's all wrong with this girl.

I'm sure I'd have more to comment on, too, if I hadn't fallen asleep for the last 10 minutes. Yeah! I did. I figure I'll catch up with it in the fall and it'll still all make sense--this doesn't strike me as a Breaking Bad, where there's always important stuff happening that shouldn't be missed. I hope that by then they figure out what direction to follow. At this point it just feels like there's too many formulas being followed. Personally, I'm rooting for the Stuckeyville-Parker Lewis combination.

The Apprentice UK: Week 5 by Tucker Stone

For some reason, the episodes that BBC America airs each Tuesday evening are slightly different than the ones available on their On Demand service. Notably, that the episode's introduction aired on Tuesday evenings fails to include the "I don't like asslickers" comment from Sir Alan Sugar, the financial godfather/Trump character. There's also a considerable amount of non ass-licking commentary cut from each episode to allow for the Tuesday airing to include commercials, but at least five minutes of that are the arty fly-over shots of London. Seriously, the first episode? Five minutes of fly-over shots set to moody electronic music. I timed it.

Let's be blunt: the British versions of most television shows is better than the American version. It might be an irritating fact, but it's still a fact. Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares? Better in the UK. The Office? Better in the UK. Coupling? 

Okay, I didn't watch either version of Coupling. I'm sure it holds true though. And yes, the Apprentice UK? It's better than the American Apprentice--or at least, it must be, because I can't physically sit through an actual episode of the American Apprentice, and yet I find this Apprentice UK show quite entertaining. The contestants are the same old mixed-bag, and so are the reactions--Saira is an obnoxious loudmouth with no self-awareness, she's easy to hate. Tim is the level-headed black guy who wears really cool clothes and probably will end up nice-guying himself out of the competition. Paul is the sort of sleazy salesman you could see convincing a terminal lung cancer patient to take up cigars. James comes across like a lug, which is why nobody seems to pay attention to how good he can be at the tasks they're given.

At the top of it all, covered on both sides by a couple of cantankerous seeming sycophantic geezers, is Sir Alan Sugar. Unlike Donald Trump, he's not a familiar American presence, and unless the Apprentice UK takes off in the States, that probably won't change. He's a bit of a cipher on the show--showing up at the end to deliver some banal maxims on business before laying out that week's challenges, and then playing the Simon Cowell voice of reason when the losing team tries to beg and blame their way out of the consequences. From what I've seen so far, he's not that witty, but he also doesn't seem terribly interested in being much of anything other than a heavy. It's kind of refreshing--obviously, any intelligent business mogul will have picked up by this point that Donald Trump struck a gold mine with the reality show gamble. Sugar, at this stage, seems content to collect a check while being an acerbic--but honest--prick. Considering BBC America is running the first season, and there's something like five more, that probably changes. For now though? He's fun.

This week's challenge was an interesting trick--the two teams had to pick a contemporary artist, set up a one-night-only showing of that artist's work, and whomever made the most money selling the work won. There's no charity--the money apparently went to the artist, as the contestants are shown negotiating price reductions at the eleventh hour with the artists--and an actual gallery owner, a guy whose whole life is tied up in the art world, makes it clear how pissed off it makes him to see some television show mucking around in his neighborhood, in direct competition with him. (The fact that this week's losing contestant spent a good bit of time hanging out in front of that guy's gallery stealing away his patrons had something to do with it.) This was the first episode won by First Forte, which used to be considered the "girl's team" until they lost so many challenges, and contestants, that Sugar was forced to mix the teams up in hopes of nobody focusing on the fact that they apparently stocked the male side a bit heavy on the talent side when they cast this thing. (Seriously, on what planet would Adele have been a good choice for a reality show involving not-being-an-idiot?)

It would be nice to say that First Forte won through a whole lot of intelligence and pizazz--they are made up of some of the most likable people in the competition--but the truth is that they won because they weren't saddled with motormouth Saira, who has the subtlety of a live grenade. The first thing she did was walk into the gallery of a husband/wife artist duo, ignore all of their work and begin demanding they answer a boatload of financial questions, all of which she did right on the tail end of First Forte's introduction to the same duo. And the thing about First Forte? They really liked the art. They hung out and talked about the art. It wasn't fake, it wasn't planned--they just gaped and smiled like a couple of loons, asked random questions about feelings and colors--all of which the artists loved--and then they walked out waving like little kids. Saira just screeched about costs, couldn't remember the term for her favorite color when asked--"Aqua....Aqua. Aquamarine? That's a color. Aquamarine." Later, when both teams decided they wanted that same artist couple, Saira's pitch opened with her asking the wife "First up, are you who I should be talking to? Can you make this decision?" Then she sputtered out some random platitudes, only to watch in shock as First Forte basically called and said "Look, we're fans. You know we're fans. You want to do this thing? You do? Shit, that's great."

During the actual sales portion of the show--where Saira called her team's second-choice artist "a fool" for not accepting a ridiculous 50% cut in price on one of her own pieces--First Forte got off to a slow start, and from the looks of it, they may have only sold three pieces. Still, those pieces were enough to pull in 19,000 Pound Sterling, and that thoroughly humiliated Impact--Saira's team--who only came up with 6,000. In the boardroom, project manager Rachel inexplicably brought in Paul and Matthew, blaming them for doing exactly what she had told them to do. Matthew's bizarre excuse--that being tall prevented him from being a good salesman, because it was hard to hear short people at parties--got him a couple of chuckles, but it wasn't enough to save him from the mildly amused wrath of the Sugar. In the car on the way back, Matthew admitted he had expected to lose, just "not this soon." Me too buddy. You were dumb, but you weren't obnoxious about it.

Bones – “The Soldier on the Grave” by Martin Brown

With the spring season winding down, and the summer programming not yet having kicked in, I—one of your trusty TV of the Weak columnists—have taken on the somewhat odious responsibility of checking in with some of the network programming that has been renewed for next season that we’re not already familiar with. Depending on how long my attention span lasts¹, over the next couple of weeks, this may include anything from Southland to Wife Swap to seeing if Family Guy is as gut-wrenchingly horrible as I remember. I do intend on skipping everything on the CW, though, since that includes 90210, Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill, Smallville, and Supernatural. I have my limits—even for this site. I’m starting off with Fox, since 90% of what I watch is on Fox anyway²—House, 24, American Idol, that Gordon Ramsay “You’re all donkeys. Get out of here, you’re a donkey” show, Glee—and a bit of a softball: Bones.

I caught my test episode³, “The Soldier on the Grave,” on TBS or TNT or TLC⁴. Actually, I caught two, but I didn’t start paying attention until the second one⁵—and, after two episodes, I couldn’t tell you the premise of the show. Not that it really matters—Bones is a by-the-numbers procedural⁶—but I like to keep my premises straight, so I can be all like, “House, you can’t solve a forty year old murder with maggots” screaming at the TV if I need to be, because how else are we going to keep these shows grounded in reality? Going into it, I thought that the show was about the dude who played Angel, as an FBI Agent/Homicide Detective/Fake Psychic. Turns out, “Bones” is actually his partner who leads some sort of forensic team, possibly run by the military. I’m betting that she’s an expert on the human skeleton, and that every one of the show’s set-ups has to do with (wait for it) bones⁷. Angel’s role in all this is unclear—but he is, like, a detective or something. That’s all I got.

You can’t really fault Fox for getting into the TV procedural game. That’s where the smart money is at. But you can fault them for putting together something so irredeemably shoddy⁸—especially, since they’ve had success in the procedural genre with House. Of course, House works because it has incredible writers, impeccable casting, a dynamic lead actor, and it has no problem either going way over-the-top or parodying itself. It’s elastic, which is why it’s a good show even when it’s not that great⁹. Bones, on the other hand, seems like it can really only be one thing, and that’s a forensic procedural—and not a great one at that, since it has no idea how to brand itself. With House, you know what it is within five minutes of watching it: Genius Asshole Doctor Saves Lives. Without a Trace: Missing People. Cold Case: Old Shit. CSI: Has the same premise as Bones, but it’s smart enough to drop the name of the show into the dialogue every couple of minutes.

Procedurals generally rely on set-up rather than a payoff; they’re more interested in creating intrigue than satisfaction. Law & Order, which pretty much created the genre, used to start with finding a body, but they’d usually clear up the mystery of who did it in the first half of the show, so that they could get to something deeper and more interesting. CSI ignored all that deep and interesting stuff, and usually provided fairly mundane solutions for their murders—but CSI always had irresistibly fascinating set-ups for their episodes, especially compared to Law & Order’s “Oh look, another body in the park” approach, and it was enough to hope for a satisfying conclusion, even if one rarely came. Yet the set-ups were always intriguing.

Bones doesn’t really bother with all that. The set-up for “The Soldier on the Grave” is right there in the title: Bones and Angel arrive at a crime scene at Arlington Cemetery and examine a body that’s been burnt down to the skeleton resting on the grave of another, famous soldier. Everything unravels exactly like you’d expect it to if you’ve ever seen Courage Under Fire or A Few Good Men—dead guy was murdered, he’s also a soldier, he was part of a military cover-up that Bones and Angel unravel, the soldier responsible for the cover-up believes he was completely in the right, somebody hangs himself, you know, the usual. But Bones tries to turn the episode into a referendum on the complexities of war—everyone’s got a different (bland, ill-informed) opinion on the war in Iraq, and no one’s afraid to express it. All this culminates in Angel tearfully confessing to Bones that he once shot a man in front of his kid. It’s pretty awkward. There’s a lot of cry-cry through the entire episode—people at funerals, crying; parents of dead kids, crying; soldiers, crying; one guy shows up to Angel’s office and cries; people getting interrogated break down in tears; one character shows up in two scenes in the episode—in the first, she breaks down crying; in the second, she’s the murderer. We never find out why the body was burnt, or why it was placed on the grave where it was found—and it makes little dramaturgical sense for the murderer to do either of those things. Or, at least, we never find out why the body was burnt *within the world of the story*. It’s pretty obvious why the writers of Bones wanted to start out the episode with a burnt body resting on a soldier’s grave—because they’d already come up with the title. Also, because they’re interested in sensationalism. They give the actors all kinds of clunky, soap-opera dialogue, but don’t care enough to cast anyone that can pull it off¹⁰. When the dude hangs himself, the camera lingers on him, just hanging there, for a minute or so—when any other show would have just shown a glimpse of him and panned away. The hanging guy didn’t even look especially harrowing or ugly—so they wasted all this time and energy on trying to be sensational, and then didn’t even make the extra effort to, you know, actually be sensational.

So, that’s Bones. It’s a pretty lazy show, and it’ll be back around in the fall if you want to check it out.

[1] If history is any indication, it won’t last long, but it’ll be, like, really intense.
[2] And by I, I mean Tucker.
[3] Testpisode?
[4] Where I sure as hell wasn’t watching Jon & Kate Plus 8… but, man, is their marriage in trouble, or what?
[5] Of course, it’s also entirely possible that I was paying attention, and just chose to erase it from my memory immediately after watching.
[6] Or as I like to call them, comfort television.
[7] But then, I am a gambling man.
[8] Or, at least, something so shoddy that doesn’t have Gordon Ramsay screaming, “You’re a donkey” in people’s faces.
[9] Except for that goddamn Mos Def episode.
[10] And they’re not even casting pretty people, they’re casting “edgy” people!

The Virgin Read: No Gurls Allowed In The Joe Casey Fanclub

Final Crisis Aftermath: Dance # 1
Written by Joe Casey
Art by ChrisCross
Published by DC Comics

Okay. This is truly a Virgin Point of View. Or maybe just a Nina point of view.

I picked this comic for the same reason I would have picked it when I was 8, or 12, or 16 or 22....the title is "Dance." The possiblity for this to draw in "new readers", meaning females, females who don't usually read comic books, is HUGE. I did a survey. That's what it said.

The dancer-girl will wonder to herself, "how will dance be used in this comic book?" Will it be some creative, comic book form of the game Dance Dance Revolution? (That's what it looks like it will be.)  Or perhaps these superheroes have powers pertaining to some graceful, dance-like fight moves? Maybe it's High School Dance Teams with Supermoves? My ten-year-old self might have hoped for a comic about a fancy dance company teaming up to fight the evil villain who masquerades as their dance teacher. Their evil dance teacher.  

These guesses of mine may seem silly to you, but to any girl who sees the title "dance", they are not. Again. Survey! And honestly? Any one of those plots would be preferable to what I read. Because the only thing that was dance-y about this was the fact that most of this took place in a club.  

Swing and a miss!

I'd like to say that my disappointment in not getting the comic I wished for was my only problem with this one, but it wasn't. First off, there really wasn't much of a plot. Instead, it's just a comic book made up of commentary. The last page tries to present a "more than meets the eye" twist ending, but what precedes it is whole comic book devoted to reflecting on "the media" and "contemporary lifestyle", presenting it all as vapid and shallow, materialistic and pointless. That's not a story, you know? It's just an observation, and it isn't a particularly fresh one. The basic story is all about these new superheros who have yet to demonstrate any super-prowess, but who are being marketed and pitched and spun like today's actors and reality show "stars." At the end, there's a conspiracy theory type reveal, where the entire marketing and media machine is revealed to be a plot to keep everyone's mind occupied so that they don't really pay attention to the true horror that is going on in their country. Again: i've seen that. It was in Wag The Dog and was funny in a snobby way, and it was in Canadian Bacon in a John Candy way. It's also just like a card trick, where you do something on the left so nobody looks to the right. It's not a story. It's a trick.

There's this constant use of twitter-like updates in the comic that's used for narrating to the reader different aspects of the twittering character's personality, and while it's clever, I felt like it was part of the whole problem this comic had--it constantly undermines itself and ends up criticizing its audience. It seems to want to appeal to a reader who might be into clubbing or twittering, while it also wants to be attractive to people who don't like either. It hates on them both--the stay at home type and the one on the dance floor. That doesn't leave much room to like it.

(Now, I wasn't really that insulted. I sort of hate Twitter. Not Twitter itself. But the very fact that we are now spending time not spending time with people who are directly in front of us, but spending time on the people who aren't there. It just doesn't make any sense to me. But I like dancing at the club! I am stuck between two things this comic treats as inseparable! Oops: TANGENT. Lemme stop myself now or I could go on and on.)

Look, maybe I just didn't find this comic that enjoyable because it's not at all what I thought it had potential to be, which was a comic book involving dancing. Maybe it works as a one-issue comic book commentary on popular culture. I'm not really all that hyped up to see what happens next. Apparently there will be five more. I don't think I'll read them.

But if they decide to include a prima ballerina superhero who is constantly going tour jete all over some fool's ass - I'd definitely read that. Somebody write that down.

-Nina Stone, 2009 

Comics Of The Weak: My Dad Always Celebrated Memorial Day By Getting Sloppy Drunk Before Beating Us With A Pipe Wrench

Agents of Atlas # 5
Written by Jeff Parker
Art by Carlo Pagulayan, Jason Paz & Jana Schimer
Published by Marvel Comics

Usually when Spider-man shows up as a guest star, you end up reading a comic book writer's not-very-funny attempts to be funny, because comic book writers en masse seem to operate under the assumption that a major part of Spider-man's "personality" is that the character is possessed of a rapier wit to go along with whatever the rest of his powers are. It's odd, because 95% of the time Spider-man's "quips" read like cribnotes from a Friedberg/Seltzer script, and the rest of the time its just because the writer is funny. Spider-man himself? He's not funny. He's about three inches away from being a contestant on Tool Academy. The only reason that odyssey of slime didn't happen during Spidey's guest appearance in Atlas is tangled up in Jeff Parker, who decided to use "spidey-sense" as his rutabaga to twist up the tired "super-team fights super-team" moment that is, as always, necessary for these type of stories. It's a decent choice, mostly because Spider-man has used his spidey-sense pretty infrequently since joining the New Avengers book, which has been running for five years. Seriously, five years? You could probably write a synopsis of that entire series on a post-it note.

Batman: Battle for the Cowl # 3

Written by Tony Daniel

Art by Tony Daniel, Sandu Florea, Ian Hannin & JD Smith

Published by DC Comics

Earlier this year, Neil Gaiman gave the world a Batman story based in insufferably stupid nonsense regarding the "legacy" of "icons", a shitty story that only served to make those giant Alex Ross comics seem like Nordic war poetry by comparison. The idea that Batman comics needed something like that, or that it was somehow "mature" to produce a Batman story that doesn't involve Batman punching people, is his own. It's wrong, but it's still an idea. Battle For The Cowl is a different beast entirely--it's had punching, kicking, all the "action" stuff that a Batman comic pretty much screams for--but what it didn't have was any sense of being created in the service of telling a story, or doing anything. It was just random characters, at least 20 of them, screaming and jumping, posing on various objects and outcroppings, talking about fires and memories. Sometimes a guy got stabbed. Sometimes a girl got punched. Lots of shit blew up. At the end, a guy won a fight by using talk therapy and a high kick. Then he changed his clothes, and, for the umpteenth time in the past 12 months, DC Comics published another splash page where a character told the reader how awesome Batman is. And yeah, that's sort of true: Batman is Awesome, he Owns Your Fucking Face, he's definitely not anywhere near the loser that Connor Hawke is. But if DC is wrong--and hell, if Marvel is wrong too--and there does come a day when some non-comic-reader actually shows an interest in a Batman comic, they sure as hell aren't going to think Batman is very Awesome upon reading any of these Battle For The Cowl things. The only thing that's awesome about this latest chapter of bullshit? 

It's over.

Captain America # 50

Written by Ed Brubaker, Marcos Martin & Fred Hembeck 

Art by Luke Ross, Rick Magyar, Frank D'Armata, Marcos Martin, Muntsa Vicente, Fred Hembeck & Chris Giarrusso

Published by Marvel Comics

The last few issues of Captain America, this one included, are part of some kind of bet Marvel Comics has going with the creative team to see if they can put out a comic book based around really fucking stupid one-sentence plots. Could they pull off creating something that doesn't make the reader, or the creative team itself, reassess that whole "comic books are inherently better than the Twilight book series just cuz" principle? #49 was the story of a crybaby who killed Captain America and lost her baby, all while crying, and #50 is the story of a guy who still celebrates his birthdays with cakes and shit despite living a life based mostly around tracking down and killing the enemies of America. So it's kind of like a competition in reading form. Except...you're the winner? Or something to that effect? Oh, and this is the first one of these Fred Hembeck back-up pages that wasn't better than the main comic it was shoved into. The eventual collection of these Hembeck back-ups will still be pretty fucking tight, but this one won't be the reason anybody buys it.

Hellblazer # 255

Written by Peter Milligan

Art by Goran Sudzuka, Rodney Ramos & Jamie Grant

Published by Vertigo/DC Comics

Sometimes your wife and kids are such a fucking drain, you know? You've sacrificed so goddamn much for them, given up on any hope of becoming a rock star, abandoned the fantasy that you'd wake up someday to find a couple of porn-ready double G's in the bed alongside you, squashed any hopes that her brother would join you in the sack for just one night, and the fucking nagging, the fucking constant nagging--it's like living with a goddamn beehive, y'know? A fat beehive. A fat beehive that eats money. And dreams. You'd just like to take it out in a field, you know? So you can kill it and leave it there? Peter Milligan understands you, he does, he speaks in your voice, American, and there's a shine in his eye that's halfway hopeful. 

Take her outside. Bring the kids. Blame it on the plague.

Herogasm # 1

Written by Garth Ennis

Art by John McCrea, Keith Burns & Tony Avina

Published by Dynamite Publishing

There's this old comic called Dinosaurs For Hire--real piece of shit, but it had nudie chicks in it, nipples and so on. Thong underwear, bikini shots, the whole nine yards, as long as the whole nine yards doesn't include penetration. That was a comic you could rub yourself raw too, and being as that was half of the point, good show. Herogasm operates under the mentality that its "satire" of shitty super-hero team-ups will succeed solely on the basis of the primary setpiece, which is that all your Crises and Invasions and Secret Wars were just a smokescreen while the various heroes were at a beach resort reenacting Caligulia. As an idea, sure, it's got some cleverness to it. But the only way it's going to really fly? If the tits look luscious, the cocks look hard, and the fucking--the oh so sweet fucking--looks tasty. Herogasm needed the fog of lust steaming up the eyeballs. Without it, you're just stuck with a comic full of embarrassing looking action figures and poorly drawn cocks. And while the bungled and the botched--as well as the spastics--might call this classic anyway, simply because it "had the courage" or something to that effect, the simple truth is that this thing right here isn't half as good as it could have been. It needed sticky pages.

Mysterius The Unfathomable # 5

Written by Jeff Parker

Art by Tom Fowler & Dave McCaig

Published by Wildstorm/DC Comics

While Mysterius the mini-series has basically served as an exercise in predictability, albeit a thoroughly attractive sort of predictability that's well crafted, issue 5 sets the stage for what happens to be the first major cliffhanger ending of its run. It's not the "will main character survive" thing that the comic ends with, that's a done deal. No, the question you're left with is this: are the guys behind the green door going to make this comic about a selfish asshole, or is he going to unveil a touch of responsibility that he doesn't really seem to possess? Is he going to fuck this Girl Friday type over the same way he's fucked over all the rest of them? While it doesn't seem wholly likely that Mysterius will go nasty--Tom Fowler's closing drawings of the face depict a heavy brow, burdens of the soul, that type of shit--Jeff Parker drops a little hint that maybe cynicism and selfishness aren't solely the purview of the Ennis/Azzarello types. Apparently, Mysterius has been stealing life off innocent people for his entire existence, and that's why he's basically immortal. Maybe there is more to this series than Tim Callahan thinks. Who saw that coming?

Outsiders # 18

Written by Peter Tomasi

Art by Lee Garbett, Trevor Scott & Brian Reber

Published by DC Comics

Is there room for a comic book based around Alfred Pennyworth fucking people up, Liam Neeson-in-Taken style? You're goddamn right there is. Now, there's never going to be a single Outsiders story worth reading as the team now stands, because it includes characters like Geo-Force, Katana, Halo & Owlman, and those four right there are proof positive that the argument "all super-heroes are basically the same" is factually inaccurate, because really, there are no stories in existence that those four jackals can't fuck up. But if you ignore the actual team stuff that takes up the majority of this comic's pages, you'll discover one of the top five reasons comic books exist: so that you can read stories about an aging, balding-no-more butler flipping the script on some gutter prick. You'll read about Alfred Pennyworth mentioning he used to be an MI-5 officer, and while Peter Tomasi might want to do a little research on MI-5 (MI-6 are the ones who would have been catching bullets "in Tangiers", MI-5 stick around the homefront), he's still gonna earn a pass as long as he's willing to write stories about a shit-kicking butler who punches Deathstroke The Terminator in Deathstroke The Terminator's fucking one-eyed pussy face. There's only one way to get an Alfred Pennyworth: Agent of Annihilate The World mini-series. Vote with your wallet, bitches.

-Tucker Stone, 2009