Monday, March 2, 2009


**As always, mind the spoilers, fanboy.**


Beanworld Book 1: Wahoolazuma!
by Larry Marder
Dark Horse Comics


Believe it or not, one of the main reasons I went to the San Diego Comic Convention near three years ago was for that possibility of laying my hands on some long out-of-print collections of this title. That's right: yours truly, who breaks out in hives the second he finds himself in a room populated by more than fifteen people, flew a quarter of the way across the country and braved a coliseum overflowing with sweating, belching, farting, reeking fandom in case the opportunity to purchase Beanworld collections presented itself. Now Dark Horse has made my odyssey to San Diego a fucking joke. Thank the various Gods I didn't go there for Beanworld books alone.

But this situation isn't solely about me and my needs. Now you too have the opportunity to easily obtain what I once braved an ocean of smelly fattness for. And believe me, it's worth it. Beanworld is one of the most candidly heartwarming pieces I have ever read. For me it's not the subtle socialist overtones that really sell me on this book, or the surrealist elements saturating all aspects of the book, or even the undeniable uniqueness of the plots and conflicts that set the title apart from anything else ever created by human hands. No, for me it's the escapism each story allows me to wallow in. When reading Beanworld, I find that everything miserable about life disappears. For however long I'm reading, I'm allowed to bask in the most stripped-down reality I've ever known, where individuals struggle together for the good of all, and life is perfect so long as part of each day is spent in the Chow Down Pool.

Those reasons are why I endured such hardships to secure inferior, worn down reproductions of Beanworld, half a world away, in one of the most unpleasant environments imaginable to myself. Those reasons are why you should take advantage of the fact you won't have to struggle nearly as hard to reap the same benefits. Don't let the opportunity to experience this pass you by, you lucky fuckers.

Superman #685
by James Robinson & Javier Pina
DC Comics


This New Krypton storyline is totally going to flop. I'm sure the actual World of New Krypton title will do just fine, but I'm predicting now that sales on both Action Comics and Superman are going right in the shitter, because the characters taking over the titles are overall unlikable. This issue of Superman is a great example of what I'm talking about. Mon-El sucks. He's a kid running around like a five year old in a froofy pair of long underwear, complete with two yellow dots over his fucking nipples like some sex pervert, who can't handle lead. And in an apparent ploy to attract ten year old girls to the title, he's also going to be drawn like one of the fucking Jonas brothers now. Fuckin' weak, dude. Nothing sells a book like a pussy prettyboy who just a week ago could be murdered with goddamn paint chips.

I'm going to stay on this book because I have faith James Robinson will somehow manage to tell a good story. Unfortunately for him, and for the titles he's penning, I know most readers aren't as faithful as myself. Thus I predict doom and gloom for a year on this book. Doom and gloom, says I.

No Hero #4
by Warren Ellis & Juan Jose Ryp
Avatar Press, Inc.


Don't get me wrong: I don't have any real complaints about this book. Mostly I'm here for Juan Jose Ryp's insanely meticulous art, which is more vibrant than a walk through the park on a hit of your raver sister's best ecstasy. Ellis' plot isn't the most unique thing you'll ever read, stylistically or otherwise, but at the very least it's not boring. Overall I'm enjoying this title more than most from the big two publishers.

What I've just noticed, unfortunately, is that it's being billed as a "serialized graphic novel." Of all the pretentious ... what the fuck is this shit? Can't we just say it's a fucking comic, or would that scare off all the trendy goatfuckers. Y'know, those assholes sitting in Starbucks right now, desperately hunched over their brand Watchmen trades, so tomorrow they can brag to their goatfucker friends about having read the "graphic novel" before the fucking movie. Bullshit like this is why I can't take a piss without some yuppie douche with cock on his or her breath throwing some newly invented comic buzzword at me like so much monkey shit.

This is me voodoo cursing anyone who's seriously uttered the phrase "serialized graphic novel." The next time that phrase escapes your whore mouth, the song "The Hamster Dance" will get stuck in you head, and the only way you'll be able to get it out is with a dull fucking spoon.

Despite all that, No Hero an all-around enjoyable read, I guess. Dammit. Fucking trendy cocksuckery.

The Sword # 15
by the Luna Brothers
Image Comics


Gross, dude. Just gross.

Ultimate Spider-Man # 131
by Brian Michael Bendis & Stuart Immonen
Marvel Comics


Surprise! A title involving Spider-Man, Bendis, and Ultimatum somehow managed to be my pick of the week! Wonders never fucking cease!

There's a reason I've been reading this book since its inception. That reason is the always present, highly concentrated emotional content. This issue is a prime example of that sentiment. The exchanges in this issue between Spider-Man and the Hulk are crisp and priceless, both in the humerus and melancholy aspects. Emotionally I took away more from this issue than any other Spider-Man story in fucking years. I know that's not saying much, but the fact I'm able to claim even one such occurrence is a miracle in my eyes.

I just wish Bendis could always write like this, the fucker.

Castle Waiting #14
by Linda Medley
Fantagraphics Books


This title is the "pan" mostly by default. It's not a bad book, per say. Medley is one of the most gifted artists on the indie scene. Her visual renderings are dually hyperactive and fragile. Vibrantly graceful, if you will. I just wish I could say the same about her stories, because NOTHING. EVER. HAPPENS. EVER! I've spent the last 14 issues watching the characters getting ready to move on of their own! Jesus! Just move already! It's just across the courtyard! It's not far! Just do it!

It breaks my heart. In every issue I see nothing but potential, with crazy doctors, secret passages, and mostly helpful ghosts, but just when I think something interesting's around the corner everyone goes bowling. Sigh. Breaks my heart, I say.

I bet if I weren't so full of testosterone I'd enjoy this book more. But I am, and I'll never be able to masturbate until I can appreciate three little old ladies discussing decorating schemes.

This is my last issue of the series. If something interesting happens in the next issue I'm going to be sooooo pissed off, because that's the way it always happens. But at least I know I tried, dammit. I tried.



Anonymous said...

Good riddance and drop dead, you fucking asshole.

MisterV said...

If this is who I hope it isn't: if you put some of that spice into your plots, I'd probably still be reading your book. And if you can't handle criticism, quit googling your name.

If it's some other jerk: next time sign your name. And go fuck yourself.