Oh WPRK! Up Yours!

Here's an early morning rant that just needed to be put from fingers to screen. Damn you, WPRK. Damn you, damn you, damn you. I am so utterly sick of your crappy DJ's.

Let's talk radio.

This morning a really good song came on by a band I did not know the name of. My guess was new Squarepusher, except it was a bit too bouncy for him. When the song ended, Hot Chip popped up, which I was glad about because knowing an artist before or after a song you don't know helps you pinpoint who it was when the DJ reads off the list of who they played in that block. Obviously. Ratatat was beforehand, so it was going to be easy. So, as I'm getting closer to work, the reception for WPRK started getting bad, as it usually does on beautiful, clear days, oddly enough. When Hot Chip ended, the DJ came on. "Good," I thought, "Now I'll get to know who that was before the reception goes all to hell." No chance. Here's what I got:

"Hey.........this is Juan [I think that's what he said] filling in for Anonymous.....mumble, mumble, mumble........ummmmm......yeeeaaaahhhhhhh.......ummmmmmm.........more mumbling......hear this song in the background? It's from Crono Trigger. I love that game..[Goes on to talk about the game and buying it]..okay so you just heard..." and that's when the static fully kicked in. God fucking damnit!!!!!!


"Shut up shut up shut up!!! Can you play The Fucking Champs?"

WPRK DJ's, if any of you are reading this, please take these points into consideration:

- Stop talking. Just fucking stop it. If I want to listen to talk radio, I'd turn on Real Radio or an AM frequency. When you play songs, don't take a million years to tell me who you played. Just tell me, for crissakes!!!!!! I don't care about your day. I don't care about your idiotic inside jokes. I don't want to hear you have conversations no one gives a shit about with other people in the studio.

- If you really must talk, ANNUNCIATE!!!!!!!! Stop with the mumbling. You are on the radio!!! If you're so bored with what you do, step aside and let someone like me who knows what they're doing take over.

- On the opposite end of the spectrum, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!! You're on Ritalin, we get it. You're a happy-go-lucky pixie of a person, we get it. You go home when your PRK shift is over and cry yourself to sleep because you have no friends due to the fact you're so completely over-the-top annoying, we get it. I don't know of anyone who wants to listen to the squirell chatter of someone who sounds as though they are about to eat the microphone and then explode in a hail of confetti and caffeine pills like some fucked up DJ pinata. Chill!!!!! You're on the radio, so you're already the center of attention. Stop overdoing it.


The next WPRK DJ

- If one of your most favorite songs is some whacked out, obscure Animal Collective song, chances are you shouldn't be playing music for a large audience.

Oi vey. This is one of those rare occasions where I can give a resounding "YES" if someone asks if I think I can do a better job. But this isn't just me. Most people I know complain about all this, too. This is the one radio station worth a damn when you want to listen to good music on the weekdays and it's usually filled with nonsensical banter or god forsaken Rollins basketball games no one gives 2 flying fucks about. Well, there's a happy ending to this story. Thank good ness for the WPRK website, because I was just able to look up what was played and it was 8 Bit Beats. I'm going to have to look them up because that was some fun shit. The DJ's whole block was pretty decent, but I'll bet I could have fit twice as many songs in. Why? Because me no talky-talky. I save the commentary for you beautiful people who I actually know are interested in my nonsense. I could keep going on about other things that bug me about 91.5, but let's just leave it at this for now. Of course, all will be forgiven if they play my songs if and when I finally get them finished and recorded.

Hang the DJ.


Don't look so sad, Plotkin. You're one of the good ones!!

As a post note, in defense of 91.5, when they do play songs, they're usually pretty amazing. Just look at the set lists from last night to the wee hours of this morning. Pretty fantastic stuff.

The Evil Dead Confederate

My god is it boring at work today. I know I sound like a broken record every time I say that, but yeesh. This is getting ridiculous. I saw a job posting in craigslist yesterday for an "administrative assistant" position that starts out more than I'd make as a first year teacher. All they really ask is for someone proficient in Office programs, which I am, someone with a bachelor's degree, which I've got, and someone who is willing to put in overtime, which I've been doing for the past year and a half straight. It's definitely something to look into, I s'pose. Especially since dick sucking wasn't listed. We all know what's really expected of some of these admin assists.

Speaking of the job, I find it rather humorous that simply because I wear glasses and I've a penis, the people around me automatically assume I know a lot about computers. Fact is, I know 2 things about computers: Jack and shit. And Jack just left town. I have them all fooled, though. Either I do the tried and true "turn it off and turn it back on" trick (thank you The IT Crowd), or I fiddle around, open a bunch of various windows, type in a bunch of nonsense commands, and state that the problem is beyond me and it's something for the IT guys to screw with. Why go through all the trouble? Well, it's a great way to waste time and pave over a little of the day's doldrum. Also, I can't stand not knowing how to do something. I'm one of those people who always feels the need to know how to fix everything. Not in a know-it-all-I-wish-you-harm-you-annoying-piece-of-shit way, but more like a here-I-come-to-save-the-day way. I suck, I know.


Less like this


Way more like this

Let's talk music.



I've been finding myself less and less inclined to write about music. Quite frankly, Mr. Shankley, I'm sick of it. I usually go through these periods where I just hate music and stop listening to anything new. A few years will go by and I'll start discovering all of these great bands I've missed during my boycott, thus re-establishing my faith in music until I start getting sick of it again. It's a twisted, love/hate/love cycle. However, I just recently got a hold of the new Dead Confederate album, "Wrecking Ball" (not to be confused with the Emmylou Harris album). Not too bad. I actually like it a lot. It's damn fine for a first LP and it harkens back to the 90's rock heyday. In fact, there are quite a few times the singer sounds like Cobain backed by a touch of Afghan Whigs. In a good way. The whole thing has kind of a sexy swager to it. It's definitely the kind of record one can make sweet lovin' to. None of this is really all that surprising seeing as they're an Athens band and Athens is the only town in Georgia I can stomach. We really need good, old-fashioned heavy guitar rock to come back. It's nearly 2010, so there's the 20 year mark for the next retro decade to come back, in this case the 90's. Let's hope those wonderful indie rock bands come back with it. Songs I look forward to hearing every time I put the CD on are "The Rat," "Goner," and "All the Angels."

Upon searching for the track listing for the album (because I've got a wicked terrible memory), I found this little gem on Amazon:



It's called "Curse of the Cannibal Confederates" AKA/ "Curse of the Screaming Dead." It was made in 1982 and I must own it. You can pretty much bet your cute little hienies I'll be writing about it. Upon further research, I discovered that the director, Tony Malanowski, is also responsible for movies called "Nightmare Sisters" and "Dr. Alien." Oh, hells yes. I hope they're terrible.

I promise I'll write about Star Wars soon. I feel obligated because I brought it up a couple of posts back, but mainly because I really want to. Videos games, Clone Wars, old pictures I came across while packing of me as a 5-year old Vader from way back in Halloween 1980. Man, I could go on and on and believe me, I will.

[Later Edit] This just in!!!! I just saw in my new issue of Game Informer (the one with boring ass Halo on the cover. That's right, I said boring) that there is some kind of special 20th anniversary Mystery Science Theatre 3000 just released. I have no clue what it is, but I'm actually vibrating with excitement and anticipation!!!!!

Ceci N'Est Pas Une Thanksgiving Potluck

I'm kind of annoyed my image of Auryn won't stay in my last post as one of my next tattoos.

Every now and again I'll be writing about things that have absolutely nothing to do with the target subjects this blog was created for. Simply because I'm bored or I've experienced something in my little private life that I don't mind sharing with you. My reason for writing is due to a mixture of the two.

I love potlucks at work. Seriously. I just ate like a god damned king. I know I'm trying to lose the weight (read: belly) I've gained the past few months since hurting myself/getting sick and not being able to work out, but at times like these, I could give 2 shits. Bring on the obesity! We just had our Thanksgiving potluck at work and I gotta tell ya, these co-workers of mine are the kind of people you want to bring over for dinner, so long as thay bring a dish 'cause this ain't no soup kitchen.


Me without a bike and a gym membership

I just had home cooked honey glazed spiral ham, a chicken/cheese/broccoli/rice dish, green beans (the kind topped with crunchy onions), mashed potatoes and turkey gravy (that's what I brought), corn, fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, shrimp cracker spread, barbq meatballs, pumpkin pie, some kind of 3 cheese yellow cake, and sparkling grape juice. I swear to God and all that's holy, I haven't felt this satisfied from just food in a long time. It was fun company, too. Some of us hung out in the meeting room where we had the spread set up along with my boss, who has this insane ability to make things awkward as hell. It's great.

Someone had asked her to bless the food, which I really don't have a problem with. As long as no one tries shoving their religion down my throat, they can bless whatever the hell they want. I respect it. My boss declined stating that there are many different religions and cultures in the workplace and it's not a very smart thing to do, to which I applauded her. She added that there might even be some atheists in the room. I didn't think anything of it. I'm not really an atheist (though I've a feeling some of the people in the office think I am), but I didn't find anything remotely offensive in her bringing it up. About 10 minutes later, she closed the door and explained her reasoning for using atheism as an example and she didn't mean to make it sound bad and everyone is free to practice whatever they wished and yadda yadda yadda. It was hilarious!!! I felt like I was in an episode of "The Office." Explanations made out of paranoia make me super uncomfortable. I love it.



Before that she gave a little speech about how this kind of thing brings everyone in the office closer together and it's a great idea. I think she was just feeling guilty for not having made anything. Whatever. I was just there for the food. While we ate, she told me she wanted to ask me something and she hoped that I didn't mind her prying into my personal life. "Oh here we go," I thought, getting ready for something super-awkward. She then went on to ask if I ever cook at home or, since I'm a single guy living on my own, do I rely on fast food and such. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed with her choice of questioning. I was ready to answer, "Oh, um, doggy style, I guess," or, "He's been dead for about 3 years now and it still hurts," in a shaky, uncomfortable voice when all I got to say was that I cook every now and then, giving a detailed layout of my kitchen. Boooooooooring. I can show them a thing or 3 about personal questions!!!

One of my co-workers just sent me an email entitled "Women Think It's So Easy" with a video attachment of a bunch of older women having some kind of race at a backyard party where they have to run up to their partner with a plunger sticking from between their legs. Once reaching their teammate, they had to insert the plunger handle into a roll of toilet paper their partner had between their legs without using anyhands. To say it was disturbing would be an understatement. I think what might be the most disturbing is that I found it oddly appealing because I haven't gotten any in a really, really, really, really, really long time. I know that's a bit on the TMI side, but I felt it was pertinent and a little funny. Hey, who else is going to joke about my unintentional celibacy? Oh yeah. Everyone.

I'm not going to even get into how insanely funny it was when a Puerto Rican co-worker of mine obviously took huge offense to being mistaken for Mexican by another co-worker. I thought I was going to shit myself.


Got it?!?!?

So, yeah, it's been a really weird and fun day at the office today. I had some really awesome food and everyone is kind of in a good/silly mood. Even the collections people are in high spirits, joking, laughing, and putting up Christmas decorations. 'Tis the season, I guess.

The sad part to all of this is that I'm the only one of my kind here. That's the reason a lot of you get frequent, random texts and emails from me during the course of the day.

Oh! Happy birthday to a favorite abstract artist of mine, Rene Magritte. If he hadn't have died in the 60's of cancer he would have died in the 70's or 80's of old age. Today he could've been 110.

Jesus. This might be the most random, stream-of-consciousness type blog I've ever written. Just 90 more minutes.....


At the risk of sullying this amazing work, I just can't help mysef: It's Rainin' Men! Hallelujuah!

Alls I Wants For Christmas

Normally I post up my annual Christmas Wish List in hopes that one of my more wealthy friends take pity on my perpetually broke ass and buy me something nice, despite the fact I can rarely return the favor. Also, it gives me a good outline for the final report I'll be turning in to Mom and Dad. So, in honor of keeping tradition (because that's all Christmas really is anymore), here is Shawn's Christmas List '08 (Subject to Change):

1) DVD's
A) Special 2-Disc Edition Iron Man
B) Special 3-Disc Edition Incredible Hulk
C) Control
D) American Hardcore
E) Any MST3K
F) All Robot Chicken Seasons except the 1st one (already got it, natch)
G)Tim & Eric Awesome Show Great Job! Season 1
2) A bigger book shelf
3) The TPB's (or hardcover, which is even better) for the Dark Tower comics
4) A couple of CD/DVD racks
5) A new iPod to replace the one that just went tits up on me (80 gig would be substantial, but I'm willing to take anything)
6) The entire Rock Band set for the Xbox 360 (I'm about to rock, so I salute myself)
7) Soccer cleats, shin guards, and soccer socks
8) A street bike (this is pretty much a must-have for me. This really ought to be at the #1 spot)
9) New glasses (since I haven't been to the optometrist in about 7 years and I still can't afford to go after all this time)
10) New tattoos that look like these:


That's about it. Some of that stuff I don't really need all that much but I just thought I'd throw it in there to round out the list a bit and bring it to an even 10. Things look better in 10's. Of course, I'll probably add to that list, thus destroying my nice, neat 10 list. Oh crap!!! That reminds me!!! I just saw online that there's a new Top 10 series out!! I have to find the first issue. I'm praying Alan Moore is writing it again.

You've Been a Bad, Bad Franchise. You Need to be Punished!

Well, it is a balmy 59 degrees outside, crystal blue skies, and the birds are singing. What better time to be stuck at work, sitting in a windowless office? Bah, screw it. I don’t even know what “balmy” means. I have nothing to do for the next 6 hours, so…

Let’s talk movies.

I was going to write about my recent Star Wars obsession, but I saw something the other day that completely curtailed any desire to pen (or, in this case, key) about my childhood desires of being Han Solo and nabbing Princess Leia in her slave outfit. What came across my friends’ television pretty much had me drop to my knees and thank whatever god is above who looks kindly upon good old fashioned comic book shoot-‘em-ups and the industry people who pray to them. In case you haven’t yet guessed, I’m referring to Punisher: War Zone.


It's a big image, but my god it's glorious. Definitely modeled after Tim Bradstreet's work.

First, let me point out that I know I’m probably setting myself up for a let down of biblical proportions. In fact, if there ever was a Book of Shawn written, it would probably consist of one page with the words “Damn it all to hell!” written upon it from having been disappointed so many friggin’ times from various things in my life, most of which having come in the form of film adaptations. “Why hast thou forsaken me?” may even make an appearance. So, yes, I’m very well aware I’m jumping the gun, especially considering Punisher in movie format really has yet to get to that point where it can jump the shark. This might be its chance.

This is what I saw: the Marvel Knights logo (would have pleased me to no end if it was Marvel Max, but I’m content to have my cake without eating it, as pointless as that is), a lot of darkness, a lot of gunfire, a tombstone with the name “Castle” on it, some guy wearing a skull shirt who looks like he could kick the living shit out of both Dolph Lundgren and Thomas Jane just by staring at them, a stitched up guy who just has to be Jigsaw, more darkness, and more gunfire. Yeah, I’m going out on a limb here and I’m guessing this one doesn’t take place in Tampa. I’m also going out on an even further limb and guessing that this Punisher is going to be immeasurably better than its predecessors. It’s called War Zone for fuck sake! How could you screw that up?!?!?


Anyone? Anyone?

Which brings me to the last movie starring Thomas Jane as our anti-hero and John Travolta as our mob boss baddie. Just the thought alone makes me laugh out loud a little. I mean, it’s bad enough you have John Travolta as the bad guy (Go get ‘im, sweat hogs! Up his nose wit a rubbah hose!), but the whole thing takes place in Tampa. Fucking Tampa!! I pretty much grew up in Tampa and believe me, the only criminal element you really need to worry about are the idiot ravers and psycho Bucs fans. But Tampa mobs?? Hahahahaha!!!! Oh, man. Setting aside, the rest of that movie was a wash up. They loosely- very, very, loosely- followed Garth Ennis’s first run of Punisher when it was under the Marvel Max banner, which is basically Marvel’s version of DC’s Vertigo, where it ignored the comic code and let the books go hog wild with nudity, foul language, and blood. Good for the Punisher, perfect for Garth Ennis writing the Punisher. I’ll never forget the storyline with Wolverine and the gang of wiseguy midgets. I shit you not.

The movie had some of Ennis’s characters, such as the Russian (extremely watered down), Joan, and Spacker Dave, but none of his attitude or sick humor. Thomas Jane, as much as I enjoy his films, just was not a believable Frank Castle. That whole scene where he made the guy talk by telling him he was taking a blow torch to him when he was really sticking a Popsicle against his skin was lame, lame, LAME!!! (I'm fully aware he actually did this in Punisher War Zone Vol. 1 #1 because I own it, but that was following the comics code and movies have no excuse!!) The Punisher I know and love would have actually had no qualms at all with taking a real blowtorch to the hood! That is, after pulling out his teeth, cutting off his fingers, and shooting him in the gut. Christ on a comic (I’m ripping off Mary Tyler Whore, here), John Travolta did more Punishing than the Punisher!!!!! You know, I’m just going to stop now. I’m getting myself upset. I’m just glad I saw the film in the dollar theater on a 75 cent Tuesday and we had all snuck in a bunch of beer. The only punishing the Punisher did that night was to the audience.


I know, kids. I know.

If I was an actual writer, who did his homework before writing, I would have watched the first Punisher movie starring Dolph Lundgren before even so much as mentioning it. Mainly so I can write something, anything, about it. I saw the flick when I was a kid, so I don’t really remember any of it. All I do remember was Castle heating up a knife while hiding out in the sewers and pressing the red hot blade to a bullet hole in his side, letting out a scream. At the time, I thought that was pretty badass. Now, not so much. If he wanted pain, he should have waited a few years for the next Punisher film. Still, if I had to guess, I’d say that movie was like the barely-mentionable Captain America, but with guns. Methinks I need to hit up Netflix for a refresher.

So, let’s just compare the Punisher of a few years ago with War Zone:

-Thomas Jane vs. the guy who played Titus in Rome who looks like he’s been through hell and back. Winner: Titus
-Jigsaw (who's played by the guy with my last name on The Wire) vs. John Travolta. Winner: Jigsaw
-The dark and gritty New York City underworld vs. sunny Tampa, FL. Winner: NYC. It'll always be NYC.
-Actual punishing vs. running around with your retarded neighbors and sticking ice pops on guys. Winner: come on, who doesn’t like ice pops?
-Punisher's sidekick Microchip vs. no one at all. Winner: undecided


Better than Travolta

Seeing as how I’ve just effectively kicked a 90-minute film’s ass with a 20-second spot I saw on television, I’m willing to bet War Zone is going to be fantastic, let alone one of those rare sequels that outshines the film it follows. The best part of this whole thing is that Marvel is kicking off a Punisher War Zone weekly series, reuniting Frank Castle with Preacher team Garth Ennis and Steve Dillon (I said Glen Fabry in the past as artist because I’m an idiot). It looks like 2008 is the year everyone gets Punisher right. I’m not even going to get into the Foolkiller/Punisher crossover.

Speaking of creepy ass Spacker Dave, let’s take a look at other roles Ben Foster has played because I'm sick of talking about the Punisher.


Here’s Ben as a creepy vampire worshipper


Here’s Ben as a creepy X-Man


Here’s Ben as a creepy cowboy


Here’s Ben as a creepy suburban gangsta


And here’s a little Ben as a creepy mentally challenged kid

Oddly enough, I couldn’t find any pics of Ben playing a creepy Spacker Dave. Go figure. Seriously, though, I love me some Ben Foster. There’s some weird rumor going around he might be playing Carnage in the next unnecessary Spider-Man movie. It’s certainly fitting.

In more news that has absolutely nothing to do with the Punisher, I saw Wall-E last night. I really liked it a lot. It was very cute and very smart when it came to its social commentary regarding where we're all headed if we continue being lazy fucks.

Politics As Seen Through Dork Colored Lenses

Let’s talk comics!

No, let’s talk politics!

Eh, that’s not right, either. Let’s talk comics and politics!!!

Leave it up to me to meld the two, but us Americans (not to mention the rest of the world) just experienced something so groundbreaking, they’ll be teaching kids about it in US schools until the end of time, so it’s kind of difficult not to be political in a blog that I’m writing 2 days after an amazing election.

Granted, Steven Colbert did not win. Not even in the Marvel Universe. This is not a good time for the GOP. Maybe he should have run in the DC Universe’s Bizzaro World. And fuck you Spell Checker for telling me “Bizzaro” isn’t a real word.

(**Note: I just went over this whole thing after proofing it and it's long. No, forget that, it's fucking huge. So, be warned if you don't give 2 shits about comic books or what I think about comic books, don't even bother reading this and wasting your time. Seriously, I didn't even bother with bold lettering my usual points of interest. And humor isn't going to save me this go around, because, well, this blog just isn't very funny. There's really not much room for cynical humor when it comes to the comics industry. Not for me. Unless you're a DC comic, in which case you're a joke unto yourself.)

There have been some really great comics that have been coming out lately that are direct reflections to today’s world events. As usual, I’m going to primarily focus on Marvel because as we all know I don’t do DC, with the exception of Vertigo and on some very rare occasions Wildstorm, so I have no idea what their idiot, bland comics are about. Probably yet another Infinite something-or-other. Makes me want to take an Infinite Dump. Anyway, Spider-Man!!!! God damn, I love Spider-Man. Always have, always will. Especially this month since there are 2, count ‘em 2, back-to-back issues that I can relevantly talk about. The first being The Amazing Spider-Man #573.



This issue not only ties up the very cool ‘New Ways to Die’ story-line (welcoming back the penciling genius of John Romita Jr), but it included an 8-page story featuring Steven Colbert in all of his truthiness glory. Needless to say, it was pretty damned funny. From Colbert’s despair at possibly not winning the election and doing the whole “Spider-Man No More” scenario (including the panel of him walking away from the garbage can he left his tie and jacket in, straight outta Amazing #50), to accidentally getting mixed up in a fight between Spidey and The Grizzly (of all things) and thinking he was in the midst of an assassination attempt, to swinging off with the web head, it was ridiculous, it was funny, and it was a great end to all of the “Colbert ‘08” signs that have been popping up in the comics for the past few months. There’s even a cool variant cover from Joe Quesada himself based on Amazing Fantasy #15’s iconic cover The regular cover is a badass rendition by Romita, Jr of Norman Osborn/Green Goblin ready to throw down. There's also a pretty sweet looking zombie variant, but, honestly, I am so fucking sick of all of the zombie bullshit. Enough already!

God damnit. I just spilled coffee down the front of myself. I hate these idiotic sippy lids they make us put on our cups at work.



Okay, a week or 2 later, we get Amazing Spider-Man #574 (it comes out 3 times a month now), starring Peter Parker’s old friend and former high school tormentor Eugene “Flash” Thompson. It was kind of cool to see him since it’s been a while and he’s had such a big impact on Peter, making Parker the person he is. (A note to all of you bullies: all you were doing is building our characters, so by the time it mattered, we were doing awesome and you were probably still a bunch of worthless assholes.) I always thought that Flash was kind of a neat character. Even though he beat on “Puny” Parker, he was the founder and president of the Spider-Man fan club. Oh, comic book irony, I love you. Because of this he found himself in some bad spots, like being mistaken for Spider-Man and donning the mantle of the Green Goblin for a stint. Jesus, who hasn’t been the Goblin at one point or another, in one form or another? Well, later on Flash stopped being a right schmuck and he and Peter became friends. He did a stint in the military and ended up teaching Phys Ed at the same high school Peter briefly taught Science at. He’s been kind of MIA for a while (no pun intended).

The whole story is a recollection Flash is giving from a hospital bed to a General interviewing him for the Medal of Honor. Flash goes into detail of how his squad is attacked while checking out an Iraqi village and how he saved the life of one of his teammates or whatever they call each other at great expense to himself. Turns out the expense was the loss of his legs. Pretty powerful stuff considering Flash Thompson has been an on again/off again major character. Throughout the story, the writer equates Flash's selfless actions to those of Spider-Man, tying it all together. A lot of people are going off saying that this was just pro-war propoganda and that it made Iraqi soldiers look inhuman and crazed and yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I, personally, can't stand the military and I think we never should have gone to war to begin with. However, I still feel most of the people over there serving their country are some brave and selfless motherfuckers and this issue is a great tribute to them. I only hope that they get to come home to their families soon and in one piece because, unlike Flash Thompson, they won't be able to get cybernetic legs like he'll be able to (*ahem* Bucky Barnes, Misty Knight, etc).



Next up we've got Thor #11. I've been blown away by the new volume of Thor ever since it started back up a year ago. I've never been a huge Thor fan (with the exception of the disgustingly amazing job Garth Ennis did with the Thor: Vikings mini-series), but with J. Michael Straczynski writing and Olivier Coipel's penciling, it's hard not to become a fan. In this issue Thor gets to say good-bye to Steve Rogers (the 100% deceased Captain America). It is the one year anniversary of Cap's fatal shooting and every televison and radio network is broadcasting about it in their own propoganda-laden ways. Thor "talks" to Cap at his monument, saying his adieus, when the ghost of Steve Rogers appears (believe me, it's a lot cooler than it sounds). He tells Thor that all he wants is a moment's peace and he can't stand the constant chatter that is going on in his name and the way people are twisting his image around to suit their own agendas (perfect metaphor for what the media does to the concept of America). Thor ends up hightailing it up into the atmosphere and takes out a satelite, thus cutting off all media feeds for a few minutes, giving Cap his "moment of silence." Pretty powerful stuff. Of course, Loki (now a female because all women are tricksters) is planting rather poisonous seeds in the head of Thor's brother Baldur and all other Asgardians, which is starting to cause all sorts of problems, but whatever. Fuck them. We're talking about Cap, man.

And speaking of Captain America, last month finally concluded the nearly 2-year run of The Death of Captain America, with the Red Skull, Doctor Faustas, and that crazy robot bastard Arnim Zola being thwarted from fixing the presidential election and the Winter Soldier, also known as the now very much alive Bucky Barnes, becoming the new Captain America. Man, where was he when Florida needed him back in 2000? This story line was the mother of all conspiracies and had more twists than a twizler, but it was pretty damned entertaining. I've never been much for Captain America comics because they've always been pretty hokey, but this was completely hokey free, not to mention dark as hell. It almost played out like a badass James Bond book, minus the suits and martinis.


I present to you the new Capt. America!!!! Believe me, he's a total ass kicker.

Okay, I'm all comic booked out. It is now 4:00 on Monday, meaning it took me 5 days to write this one blog. For fuck sake. I really need to stop trying to write these at work. I think my next blog is going to be about the recent Star Wars kick I've been into these past few weeks. I can pretty much guarantee you that one will be way the hell more funny than this long ass post.

Obama-Wan, You're Our Only Hope

All I can say is WOW!!!!!! I was hoping we'd pull it off, but a landslide????? A fucking landslide?!?!?!? I'd write more but I have to wake up for work in 5 hours and I'm staring down the barrel of a very long 10-hour day.

I will mention this: did anyone watch CNN??? What the fuck was with the holograms???? Shit was straight out of Star Wars!!!!!! I'd have to say that was the best part of the election, aside from Barack winning, of course.

The Proud, The Few

Taken from the post left by the Descendents update guru on Myspace:

"Frank Navetta, founding member and guitarist for the Descendents, fell ill over the past few days and passed away on October 31, 2008. Besides naming the band, Frank wrote a ton of great songs and was a great friend. He will be truly missed.


We don't have any information about funeral or memorial services at the moment. We'll pass along information for any public services when we find out.


Go give Milo Goes To College or Bonus Fat a spin in Frank's honor.


-J"

Frank wrote some of the best songs in existence. It's truly a sad day.

DC Universe Online

Booooonnnnnneeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!

DC Comics still suck, though.


Talk about "boners." Jesus.