Come one! Come all! Into the comic book column where we gather around the sacred hearth, the Pull List. Gathered around the resplendent flames as they lick our lollies, we share the comic books we’re interested in on a given week. Though not an Alpha Male, more along the lines of a First Sacrifice, I’ll go first. After done condemning my taste with your judgey eyes and pinnacle eyes, throw your chips into the bulging fire and pray the Gods of Well-Stocked Shelves smile upon you.
Batman Incorporated #1
I’ll be honest: I don’t have a goddamn Bat-Clue what is going on with this relaunched title. The original iteration was barely out of its uterine lining before it was collapsed into the most blase of Universe relaunches. I hope when the Heat Death finally overcomes our little enterprise and Existence reboots, it comes off a hell of a lot more interesting than the New 52. At the very least, here is hoping its less sloppy. Will remnants of man bespeckle the next cycle, confusing and convoluting New History? I surely hope not. ‘Cause the New 52 doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. What Bat-Canon exists? What doesn’t? Batman Incorporated is coming into existence yet again, but what precipitated this? The same as before? Or no? Or? Or? I’m not sure, man. I’m not sure. I’ll be ripping it off the shelves, saying a novena and praying its far, far superior to Morrison’s crack at Action Comics.
These are the other super-titles this week I’m digging:Fantastic Four #606. Secret Avengers #27.
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Prophet #25 [You're all I've ever wanted.] Prophet and Saga are currently embroiled in a most barbaric of battles within the Halls of my Heart. They struggle to claim supremacy over my Geek Brain, vying to achieve the apex. That which every comic desires. My Favorite Comic. We’re talking brutal, brutal chest slaps thawcking meatily off one another’s sternums. Tests of strength that go on for hours. This week I’ll allow Prophet to nuzzle that closely up next to me, achieving the Geeky Throne. Despite the marketing of this issue, the mad cap Brandon Graham-penned title won’t be penciled by Farel Dalrymple (shameless aside: check out an interview with him at my mothership). Instead it is Giannis Milonogiannis, a lad I’ve never heard of before. Never fear! If this preview is any indication, the good sir holds it down. Pops it!, and locks it. You know what I’m talking about (you probably don’t).
It’s approaching midnight and I sipping liberally from a recently-cracked open two-liter of Pepsi Max. This can only mean a few things. Diablo 3 has launched, my semester is over, and I may very well be dead by the time you read this. Slouched over all fucking South Korean internet cafe Starcraft stylee. Should I continue sucking wind into the meatier part of this Wednesday, I shall be snagging some comic books. These are the ones I’m digging on. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to tolerate my stupidity and then augment my list with the titles you’re going to procure for an exorbitant sum. Especially if I don’t list your little binky title. I’m willing to riff on anything should you suggest it.
Dancer #1
I had been eyeballing Dancer since before I ran an interview with Image Comics publisher Eric Stephenson over at my mothership. Writer Nathan Edmonson had been entertaining me with his totally 24: Modern Black Ops (I’m being reductive and possibly insulting) jam The Activity. But when Stephenson was all “this dude is an up and coming Titan”, well fuck. I’m there. In addition, Nic Klein’s artwork seems pretty fucking gorgeous. If I was capable of reproducing the sort of discourse those literate in the way of comic art do, I’d say something like “his line work is excellent!” or “the paneling sequencing truly is…” but I can’t. I’m a dunce. You know that already. It looks really neat! The blood stains are kind of cool! I will buy this!
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Winter Soldier #5 Winter Soldier is pretty much everything I ever wanted out of Eddie Brubaker and Butch Guice. A sexy Cold War Is Still Going On spy thriller featuring latex hotties and technological wizardry at every bend. More than that, Guice is out of his fucking skull-flap when it comes to this comic. You flip a page and you’re going to run into a layout that blows your butt hole through your tits. How does that even work? Fuck you. The Pepsi Max tells me it makes perfect sense. It would never lie to me. This title is oozing fun. I mean Sweet Christ in the first four issues we’ve gotten ourselves a Giant Fucking Ape for Bucky to punch, Victor Von Doom, and enough Black Widow ass shots to carry your spank bank over until Avengers 2 drops.
More Big 2: There’s also that Avengers vs. X-Men explosion-scenario dropping its fourth issue this week. It’s the first Marvel event I’ve skipped in years, and it feels good. The sludge is dripping out of my aorta and I’m breathing a bit better. You’re still down with it? More power to you. Couple that with Neal Adams’ The First X-Men and you have two Marvel status quo ticklers that I simply cannot give a shit about. Think I don’t dig Events at all? Incorrect: I’m stoked for the Lemire/Snyder Heavy Feral Thunder upcoming epic Rotworld.
The Legend of Korra is getting slept on. TLoK, as we may refer to it here, is the sequel series to Avatar: The Last Airbender that premiered on April 14. Why it is not called Avatar: The Legend of Korra is beyond me. The new series takes place seventy years after the original’s finale. Aang has died, leading to the existence of a new Avatar (Korra); Katarra unfortunately has not died, leading to an atrocious series introduction featuring her character as an old woman (just as annoying as when she was a young woman); and technology has now progressed significantly to a point in time comparable to 1920s America.
This time around, the Avatar has already mastered three of the four elements and all that is left to learn is air (so, the opposite of the original series). Korra travels to the recently-founded metropolitan mecca, Republic City, to train with Aang’s old-man-of-a-son, Tenzin. There, she encounters the popular sport of pro-bending, and discovers a bubbling anti-bender resistance led by a shadowy non-bender named Amon.
Five episodes in, nothing past that basic series description has unfolded. The show plays as a more traditional anime, focussing on the teenage Korra and her two teenage pro-bending comrades Mako and Bolin, and the love triangle that inevitably unfolds between them. Along with that comes a heavy focus on pro-bending, which is a cool concept for the updated series mythology but not much more. There’s nothing explicitly bad about the show. It’s definitely entertaining, but with stakes that, so far, are much lower than those of the original series, it’s sort of only operating as an epilogue.
And though the creators clearly are attempting to develop a unique identity for TLoK, it doesn’t help that the characters are all rehashes and mash-ups of character from The Last Airbender. The president of Nickelodeon described Korra’s character as “hotheaded, independent, and ready to take on the world,” which is completely true and ridiculously annoying. Her character is 100% just a combination of Katara, Zuko, and Toph. It’s as if the creators decided the best way to differentiate this show from the original is to make the lead the exact opposite of Aang. Supporting character Bolin is very much a replication of Sokka, and Mako is more or less Zuko.
The mysterious antagonist Amon is the most interesting part of this show. For one, mysterious masked villains are always a guaranteed success. Look at the Teen Titans animated series, for example. Unlike Slade from TT, who was never unmasked as his actual identity would have had no emotional weight within the context of the animated series, Amon has the potential to have canonical resonance as someone from, or descended from the original series. Besides his identity being withheld, he also possesses the ability to take away a bender’s bending, a power previously only available to the Avatar him or herself. This raises the question that, if Korra has her bending taken away (a plot point that has been foreshadowed at every possible juncture) what will happen to the future Avatar lineage?
Stakes risen. The show is fine. Korra is obnoxious and should have her powers taken away and be embarrassed that she failed all of the benders in the world, but once some more plot details are revealed and the season gets underway, TLoK should be as captivating as Airbender was. The anti-bender angle of the show was a good call on the creator’s part, and the series will likely end similar to Digimon, with everyone gaining bending abilities and being happy and loving each other. Something heart warming like that. Catch The Legend of Korra on Nickelodeon on Saturdays at 11, or online whenever, and stay tuned for Re-ups here, on Sundays.
Welcome to Near Mint Condition. This jib-joint is a commune. We put on our comfy clothes. Right now I’m wearing sweatpants, black socks, a cheesy pop culture t-shirt. We sit in a circle. Capri Sun will be given to all. Then we talk about the comic books we’re buying this week. Sharing is caring. No belligerence, no snark. Rub my belly. It’s warm, isn’t it? That’s because it is powered by my love for you, my comic book brethren. If you can’t keep the PMA you’ll be jettisoned to the dungeon, to dick-wrestle labia monsters with teeth and ill intent.
Don’t know what comics are coming out? Here’s a list.
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Uncanny X-Force #25
Rick Remender is a beast of a writer. If you haven’t heard of him by now, just give it a year or so. I’d be goddamn surprised if he isn’t sitting in the Iron Throne helming Marvel’s Big Event in the next couple of years. He is not new to the machine over at Quesadaville, but it has yet to harness his talent and channel it into pure Spectacle Drivel. For now, Imma go ahead and sate myself on the fantastic work he’s dropping monthly on Uncanny X-Force (among other things). I can’t believe this is the 25th issue of the rag. It feels like just yesterday I was digging my fanboy-talons into this X-title, completely incredulous. You see, when I first got into UCXF it had been a long time since I had actually got up on the Homosuperior tip. My childhood love had been replaced by apathy. But thanks to Remender and a stable of outstanding artists I’ve been digging into the X-Verse on a monthly basis. Thanks Rick! Thanks Artists!
AvX? Naw. Make mine Fantomex.
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Animal Man TP
When DC shoehorned a relaunch into our gullets last year, one of the titles that achieved the thrust necessary to outrun the overblown Gnarly Hype Beast which ate story telling and shat out headlines was Animal Man. So of course, like a true piece of shit who complains about marketing-driven storytelling and then proceeds to not read quality work, I fell behind on the Animal Man relaunch. Now is the time of my Purgatory! The darkened Heavens have opened up, and their glistening gape has presented me with an opportunity for redemption.
The first collection of the Lemire/Foreman joint is out. If you haven’t gotten on-board this swaggernaut, now is your time. No excuse is valid. All who err in this case shall be expunged. You can buy it for less than $10on Amazon. Go. Redeem yourself, much as I have. Seldom are second chances made so easy.
So I’m a sucker for George Pérez pencilled crossover events! Whatever! With The Avengers opening this weekend, it had me thinking a lot about my favorite mega-events, and how seeing the spirit of one translated to the screen really warmed my dorky little heart. Though many, many of them are complete nightmares (look no further than Fear Itself and Flashpoint, both major publishers’ most recent ones), when they’re on they can hit harder than almost anything else in the paneled world.
I chose these two not only because they are two of my absolute favorites, but also because they are also very similar in ways, making the choice for you even more arduous. Muahaha I just pulled a Thanos/Anti-Monitor style power move on this Choice Is Yours. Speaking of those two guys, they’re both absolutely key to the absolute success of both of these events. Sure, Thanos has cropped up before, but The Mad Titan reached a whole new level of frightening once he constructed the Infinity Gauntlet (a process outlined in a pretty darn good miniseries of its own) and fucked up half of the living universe with a snap of his fingers, all for some evil necrotic poontang.
Then he slowly starts to fuck with/kill all your favorite Marvel heroes. Damn, that shit was intense. Sort of like when the Anti-Monitor starts dissolving entire world and making The Flash collapse into a pile of dust. 30 year old spoiler alert. But best of all, both these villains seemed truly powerful enough to require all the heroes from the respective universes’ to team up, which is really what a mega event it about, and both of these deliver in spades. But you know how this works. The Choice Is Yours…
So in a little over a week, Marvel’s The Avengers, as directed by “geek” favorite Joss Whedon, has racked up just under $650 Million in ticket sales, over $200,000,000 (boy that’s a lot of zeros) of which came from American moviegoers, making it the most successful opening of all time by a hefty margin. Now certainly that has a lot to say about the strength of its advertising, about Marvel’s cross-pollination gambit paying off in spades, about the country’s still fervent desire for franchise and sequel properties, and also the effect of inflated ticket prices (especially from 3D and IMAX) on box office revenue.
But really that, to me, only accounts for $150 Million US, maybe $160. Which is fine, fantastic even, better than almost everyone else. The special kind of magic in The Avengers is what accounts for that final push into history and the record books. Because the numbers dont lie: somehow, despite talk of “The Tesseract” and the general feel of the whole movie being something Biff Tannen would sock you for enjoying, The Avengers is a movie for everyone but it’s also about being a movie for everyone. Now you could take that as a bad thing: that it’s somehow bland, fine to all but not fantastic to anyone, but that’s not the case. Instead it’s the celluloid (or digital data, I suppose) incarnation of a universally enjoyable experience that’s also inherently communal.
It is a spectacle with just enough heart (maybe watching a fireworks show with your best gal, except here she turns into a giant green monster) and brains to make it not seem like a portent for an impending Idiocracy-style apocalypse. Best of all, it evokes what I imagine to be the original impetus behind the large scale cinema experience, the epochal difference in available technologies be damned. Funnily enough, the film stumbles legitimately only once, and it’s in its opening 15 minutes, as the puppets strings are tugged in a way too noticeable, and the characters say “important things” in very explanatory ways.
But, and I really believe this is true, there was almost no other way for Whedon to open this movie other than an info-dump that does a very good job of yanking that band-aid off so for the last 90 minutes you can just pin your face into a smiling rictus that tastes sweeter than the biggest Icee. Because once Tony Stark (Roberty Downey Jr.), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Captain America (Chris Evans), The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and – yes – Agent Coulson (Clark Gregg) find themselves on Joss Whedon’s playing field, he creates something that feels like a kid playing with all his action figures in the very best way possible.
Best of all he realizes what almost all other comic book movies forgot: when we play with toys, it’s not all smashing them together to go “boom.” There’s standing around and talking too (usually accompanied by fingers pinched firmly around their abdomens as you dodder them back and forth), whether it’s in Thor’s Mid-Atlantic oratory or a simple Hulk roar. The scenes of banter between the heroes (in wonderful sets like The Helicarrier, a starlit forest, and a half-decimated Manhattan) are almost as enjoyable as those of action, and often they bleed into each other with gusto. As much as they are fighting Loki (Hiddleston is perhaps the secret MVP here, as he was in Thor, and Marvel would be dumb to let this be his last appearance) and his Chitauri army (faceless goons really, and nothing like the Chitauri in the comics. Didn’t bother me though) they’re also battling amongst themselves and for our attention.
It’s a battle I’m happy to watch, as they display their powers in a way that has utility but is also ever-conscious of the inherent showmanship that accompanies being a superhero. As Captain America: The First Avenger so gleefully pointed out (and, by the way, the X-Men movies so deeply misunderstood), heroes don’t wear costumes because they’re useful. It’s because they look cool. Soon enough, the heroes realize that not only will teaming up make the defeat of the Chitauri easier, it also makes it more entertaining.
The scenes of hero collaboration are the movie’s best, whether it be Iron Man reflecting a proton cannon blast off Cap’s shield to strike a massive enemy, Thor and the Hulk battling a giant serpent, or (best of all) a faux-one-shot that whips us dizzyingly through the battle of Manhattan to check up on each and every one of our heroes. Everyone is doing their part. Everyone is trying hard.
American’s are hard wired to enjoy (and reward, as noted above) effort – human effort especially – and The Avengers has it in spades. There’s a very interesting byproduct of the utterly unsecret Marvel habit of post credits sequences. First of all **SPOILER ALERT** the mid credits sequence gives us a brief glimpse of Thanos, which sent my heart embarrassingly aflutter **END SPOILERS**. But, to borrow an astute observation from Wesley Morris of the Boston Globe, it forces you to stay through the gargantuan credits, an exercise that starts out tedious but eventually become awe-inspiring and somewhat vertigo inducing as the seemingly endless crawl of names continues. All of those people did actual work to make this thing for you to enjoy. The Avengers is a proudly collaborative effort, and the audience is part of that too. All the 80 million or so people that saw it worldwide. The most of all time.
I just ate an entire Domino’s deep dish pizza. I’m covered in crumbs. My asshole is already writhing in hate, preparing to shotgun out waste across a porcelain tomb. My girlfriend and I aren’t seeing eye to eye on serious life issues. My bank account shrinks with the same rapidity my doughy ass’d waist expands. If this isn’t the perfect time to escape through some funnies, I don’t know when will be. Comic books, please deliver me from mortality, ideological stances, caloric repercussions, dependence on foreign oil, the problematic desire to respect women’s issues and also rub seed on their butts, and other complicated things. Just fucking do it, okay?
This is Near Mint Condition, the column where we chat about what you’re procuring this week in the world of sequential art and female objectification. If I don’t drop something you dig, for the love of Thanatos speak up. That’s the entire point of this fucking enterprise.
X-O Manowar #1
Valiant Comics is responsible for some of the wonderful shit-scabs that formed on the ureteral lining of the comic book industry back in the 1990s. Before I was a virile young adult, before I was an aged 29 year-old burping fabricated pasta sauce. They introduced zero issues and chromium covers. They did not last forever though, sinking to the bottom of us comic book geeks’ collective unconscious. Since then, they’ve spent their time hanging out with jizzy-covered issues of Witchblade #1, pining for the old days. Pine no more, Valiant Comics. Like an infinite amount of superheroes, you are reborn.
The entire fucking shindig is getting underway with this first issue of X-O Manowar. This isn’t some jabroni shit, either. The comic is being written by a New York Times bestseller, and being penciled by an Eisner award winner. They’re playing with fucking power. It is coursing through their veins and shooting out their orifices. Lightning bolts, folks. Lightning bolts.
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Dial “H” #1
Having tapped what was left of the goodwill coming out of New 52 and squeezed it, DC has turned their eyes towards Earth-2. They need new sustenance to feed their gaping gullets, demanding the juices of our excitable dollars. I’m actually sort of jazzed about the Earth-2 titles dropping this week in the form of…wait for it, Earth-2 and the superheroine powered World’s Finest. However, I’m more stoked about Dial “H” #1 than either of them.
The premise is super-wonky. Imagine, if you will: a telephone booth that turns people into a different superhero every time that it is used. Yeah man! Pow! One time you have super strength. Another time your farts cure cancer. Then there’s that one time the guy used it and it turned him into a dog whose serenades would cause trees to vomit jelly beans.
Pretty radical, no?
The title is being penned by darling science-fiction and fantasy author China Miéville. I have only read good things about Miéville throughout the years, but I have yet to enter into his textual worlds. That’s mainly because I have too many other things I should be reading, and instead of even reading those I’m staring at animated gifs on Tumblr of asses shaking and dancing dogs. Welcome to the future! It isn’t pretty but Jesus Christ the spectacle keeps us all entertained.
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Daredevil #12
Chris Samnee joins the fucking Daredevil train! The world smiles at this fortune. Samnee held my heart a couple of years ago when he was the artist on the criminally underappreciated Thor: The Mighty Avenger. Did you read that title? If you didn’t, just drop your pull list for the week. Right in the goddamn toilet. You’re charged with fixing this ill. You can’t do it just by buying the TPB. We’re talking time travel. You will rehabilitate the time stream. You need the Vaseline – for breaching the Time Wall is scorching. You will need bottle caps – for they are the currency in the dimension I’m sending you to. You will need bravery – because you’re probably going to fucking die on this journey.
Don’t cry, you brought this upon yourself.
Should you not have the nerve, buy Daredevil tomorrow. Samnee is joining Mark Waid on what Marvel keeps reminding us is the “Super Greatest Best Funny Mag Reviewed Last Year!” Wee! Don’t let my snark confuse you. This title is excellent.
Near Mint Condition, the column where we all share the funny books we’re buying this week. In theory. Most of the time it’s just me pissing into the wind, waiting for a friend. S’all good though. I like pee play, and like many things in life while it isn’t ideal to do it alone, it sure as shit beats not doing it at all.
Ultimate Comics Ultimates #9
Reed Richards continues to threaten the world, engineering genius babies and Future Cities and other menacing shit. After the dude convinced the Hulk in the previous issue that he was getting played out like a chump, it looks like Ultimates are totally tits-up heading down the wrong way of the creek. Also, double-points for Tony Stark and Thor totally hanging out in overalls in the aforementioned last installment. Just a couple of dudes. Hanging nipples out, pounding some beers. Thinking about hammers, repulsor rays, and other awesome monuments to the phallus.
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Spaceman #6
If it weren’t for Prophet, then this joint would be my favorite science-fiction mind-fuck Dystopia going. As the mini-series progresses, I’m becoming increasing intrigued by just what the fuck happened on Mars with Orson and the pack of cavemen motherfuckers that were up there with him. Terraforming? Golden mountains? Almost as engaging as the hyperbolic tits-and-violence social commentary that sizzles throughout the main portion of the narrative.
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Pterodactyl Hunters In The Gilded City [One Shot]
This may be a bit of a reach for you folk, especially if you’re like me and you haven’t heard of this title prior to the previews for the week. Written and draw by Brendan Leach this one-shot is a bit sounds fucking wonderful. In the actual meaning of the word. Full of wonder. The tale tales place in “a version of 1904 New York where generations of working-class hot-air-balloonists take to the skies each night to defend their city from a dwindling population of pterodactyls”, and if that doesn’t sell you I don’t know what will. Perhaps the copious amounts of praise and winning of an award.
In a week that has quite literally a dumb comic dedicated to the fights from Avengers vs. X-Men, do the world a solid. Buy this. It’s only $10. Or if you want to go digital, $4.
Ahoy, good friends and passive enemies. This is Caff-Pow, and I’m here to guide you on this most glorious of days. Wednesday. The day that new comic book arrives on shelves and in digi-places, offering those of us who subscribe to the paneled page a new dosage of our narcotic. Here in this column we all gather around and share the jams, joints, dosages, dopeness and other assorted nonsenses we’re buying this week. I’ll go first. It only seems fitting I show you mine before you show me yours. Not sure what’s coming out? Hit up ComicList.
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3 Story: Secret Files of the Giant Man
For uncultured assholes like myself, 2010′s Revolver was my first foray into the wonder that is Matt Kindt. Others, more knowing, more wise, heavier in the testicle or breast, had already enjoyed him. Even more negligent, despite loving his work on the aforementioned title as well as his collaborations with Jeff Lemire on Sweet Tooth, I never doubled back around to catch-up. This is indeed a colossal failure wrapped in a despair blanket. Well, friends. Salvation is coming. This week Dark Horse is publishing a collection of three sequels the good lad did to his much-acclaimed 3 Story. I will buy this! Then plunge my dagger into the golden heart of a Unicorn-Dragon and make my sacrifice of pinky and tongue to the Gods. Only then will I be redeemed.
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Prophet #24 [My pick of the week]
Prophet is…probably my favorite fucking title going. Sparse Hemingway Post-Apocalyptic insanity-absurdity that really just wails on all my pleasure centers. By the time I am done reading an issue I am heaving of chest, groaning of groin, and smiling of face. Man, I’m really losing it tonight. Anyways, it’s really goddamn good. Are you reading it? After last issue finished of the story arc by writer/beastslayer Brandon Graham, I was a bit incredulous. What would become of John Prophet now? What could they do? Well, my more intelligent and able-minded brother said: whatever they want. John Prophets all over the galaxy, having been activated. Buckle-up, saddle-up, and smoke em if you got them. This is going to be fun.
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Defenders #5
I couldn’t give two tugs of my Nana’s forever-lactating nipple about Avengers vs. X-Men. Jesus Christ, Marvel is really having their characters beef it out with one another again. Again! Civil War barely off our radars. Thankfully Defenders seems to be escaping the abyss that is Crossover Event Explosion!, being left to riff on its own oddity in peace. This title excels particularly because it is Matt Fraction at his zaniest on this side of Casanova, wanking metafictional and throwing in the hilarity. It’s just goddamn bonkers, and I don’t know how many Marvel titles can claim to be such these days.
Battle mentally deficient animated children, commence! Huh, it sounded sorta weird when I said it like that… But today we’re pitting two of animated television’s most endearing and beloved characters against each other, and it promises to be a battle filled with Sun Tzu level tactical sophistication. Or maybe just a lot of booger picking. Who knows!
Starting off as background character in Lisa Simpson’s class, Ralph Wiggum has grown into the child king of television non-sequiturs. From classic lines (“Me fail English? That’s unpossible.”, “I bent my wookie”, “Super Nintendo Chalmers”, and, of course, “they taste like burning”) to classic moments (his ill-fated date with Lisa jumps instantlt to mind), Ralph is one of the best secondary residents of Springfield. You have to think that this character had at least some sort of influence on Butters Stotch, the well meaning and infantile boy who went from side character to one of the main South Park crew.
Butters was always funny, but Matt Stone & Trey Parker have also used his naivety to play out some of the series’ strangest and darkest moments: remember his mom trying to drown him in a car? He also has a thriving secret life as the dastardly Professor Chaos. In many ways Butters and Ralph are the same character, but each filtered through the vision of their respective creators. They’re both great, but you know how this works. The Choice is yours…
