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.

Not sure what is coming out? Hit up ComicList.

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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).

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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.

Don’t know what’s dropping? Hit up ComicList.

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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.

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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 $10 on Amazon. Go. Redeem yourself, much as I have. Seldom are second chances made so easy.

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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.

Don’t know what’s coming out? Check right hurr.

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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.

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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.

Actually want to play the game? Hit up ComicList.

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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.

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What are you buying this week? Hit me.

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.

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With a headline like that, I better buckle up. It’s that time of the year where the Funny Book Factories begin churning out stunning efforts in mediocrity, otherwise known as Events. Yes sir. Yes ma’am. This week the all ninety-three Avengers teams are going to be throwing down with all fourteen X-Men squads and the price will be paid by readers looking for something not refried and snot-covered. (I thought this was called Civil War?)

Eh! There’s dope books dropping this week too. Let’s focus on that.

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Fanboys vs. Zombies #1
Titles humming along on a simplistic premise can either live or die courtesy of this attribute. A comic book called Fanboys vs. Zombies just about takes the cake on the simplicity tip. Zombies roll the fuck up on a comic book convention, and hopefully the eat the shit out of that obese dude who has stuffed himself into a Phoenix outfit. You pay for your crimes, bro. You pay. I’m not a betting man, being broke as fuck, but if I was I’d bet on this title. It’s being written by none other than Sam Humphries, a good lad whose work is spilling into the mainstream and the medium is the better for it.  Dude is going to be rocking Ultimate Comics Ultimate Time when Hickman segues off of it, as well as his own joint Higher Earth. The tide will begin to roll in with this title though, and I plan on surfing the wave to Dead Fanboy Valhalla.

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Casanova: Avaritia #3
Cyeah, boi. Now this is the hotness from which my erection shall extend tomorrow. It’s been six months since Fraction and Bá’ dropped the second issue of this Casanova volume, and my balls have withered with each passing week. The second issue was a Multiversal mind-fuck that riffed metatextually on so many different levels in so many different appreciably different ways that by the end of it I was certain that I wanted to marry Matt Fraction but I’d settle for knowing I was in some splinter dimension.

Six months. Way too long. Praise be, praise be.

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Supreme #63
What Fresh Hell is this? Another issue of Supreme written by Alan Moore after all these years? It’s his final issue, and if Casanova took a while to drop I assume this motherfucker has been cryostasis for years. Am I curious enough to see what comics’ favorite warlock is up to in ultimate installment of his run on Rob Liefeld’s Superman? That’s a great question. One that I won’t be able to answer until I’m standing in front of the comic book rack tomorrow, but I can see it now. As I scan the titles for all the ones that I want that have sold out, I’ll gaze upon this little title. The necromancy that powered its creation calling to me, ethereal tendrils extending themselves and invigorating my metaphysical corpus with Moore-power. I will be powerless.

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Do you know how many comic books I read last week? One. I read the newest issue of Prophet and that was that. It was a gloriously hypnotic trek through a devastated post-apocalyptic Hemingway novel, and after that I shut my brain down for the week. I’ve been trying to slice the fatty material out of my comic diet. Much like my life I’m sure I’ll continue to binge, but the ideal is to strip down the pull-list into things I want to read. Not things I want to read, feel implored to read, and have a passing interest in at the cost of my wallet.

With that in mind, this is Near Mint Condition. The column where we sit cross-legged in a circle, pantless of course, and share what we’re digging on in the funny book universe on a given Wednesday. I’ll go first. You follow me into the closet and count to 20. It’s going to be awesome.

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Ultimate Comics Ultimates #8
Hickman always tows the line between meticulous plotting and meticulously plodding, and I’ve gotten a bit of the impatience in my taint with this series of his lately. Even though I love it! I just want smashy smashy. If all Hulkian signs are to be believed, then I’m going to be in for a treat with this issue. Why?

The Hulk. That’s why.

You don’t want to fuck with Bruce Banner. Don’t let all the recent advertisements for The Avengers fool you. Even though he is inexplicably smiling while everyone else stands around flexing and posing like brooding assholes, the dude isn’t to be trifled with. In this new issue of Ultimate Comics Ultimate Time Ultimate Avengers #8, Banner is heading into the heart of Not Dead Reed Richards’ robot city. Methinks the genius is in for a Stone Cold Stunner or two.

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Choker #6
Sweet Tits On A Ram! I would be lying if I said I hadn’t almost completely forgotten about this comic. I mean, good grief! The first issue dropped over two years ago. The last issue? A year ago! Yet here we are at the sixth issue. We’re just getting to the middle part of a baker’s dozen. The good news is that I assume that the delay in the comic is due to the raging success of Ben McCool and Ben Templesmith. Can’t hate on creators you dig getting busy. Even if I forget what the fuck has been going in in the narrative.

I know that it takes place in Shotgun City and the protagonist is a dude named Johnny Jackson (I think) who is hunting down some dude who…deals vampire drugs or some shit.Meanwhile a blond chick he rolls with reminds me a lot of Kara Thrace and swears a good goddamn lot. That’s enough to get the peep drip staining the white loins. Throw in some acerbic wit, ultra-violence, and gorgeous Templesmith artwork, and you’re golden. Even if you’re not sure what that golden hue exactly looks like anymore.

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Uncanny X-Force #23
I’ve had a soft spot for Rick Remender’s insane X-Squad for a while now. He’s done the impossible. Made me give a fuck about an X-Title. Made me give a fuck about Otherworld. Those are impressive feats. The trial of Fantomex wraps up this issue, and I’m the storyline will conclude with the same blood-splattering mayhem that all the other ones have so far. As an aside, I’m ready for Remender to bring his his Gore Soaked Gang back into the 616. They’ve been ballin’ out in the Age of Apocalypse and Otherworld for a good while now, and it’s time they touched down and ripped some ass in the Universe Proper.

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…Man, I fucking hate coming up with headlines sometimes. Funny books drop today, and we as comic book hounds zig and zag our asses to the Comic Farm to snag that which interests us. This column right here is intended to serve as the watering hole where we all share the wares we snagged. I can’t do this alone, people. What are you buying this week?

Not sure what’s dropping? Hit up ComicList.

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Batman #7
The only caped book I really give a fuck about this week is rocketing out of the New 52 chasm on Waynetech. The Flying Rodent has spent his life since relaunch getting the pissed beaten out of him in murky hallways and darkened alleys, as the Court of Owls put the walloping upon his ass. Finally escaped from their clutches he’s going to spend this issue recuperating. You know, how he tends do. Telling Dick and Tim they need to perform their calisthenics in their tight little leotards in front of him. So he can watch their form. Oh come on don’t be holier than though, like Horatio Alger was any less creepy.

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Infinite Vacation #4
Infinite Vacation dropped last year and I was instantly hooked. It isn’t hard to entice my Geek Glands. Just rub some Multiverse all over them. Shit, everything is sexual tonight. Spring air, has to be the Spring air. Since its initial three issues though, the title has slipped off the radar. Maybe it fell into…an alternate dimension! Ha! Get it? Spencer and Ward are finally back, and I’m ready to get down to the latest issue. Metaphysical multiversal tomfoolery with gorgeous artwork by Ward.

(On reflecting, I think I actually may have missed the third issue. If it was ass, I apologize.)

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Dark Horse Presents #10
These fucking Dark Horse Presents issues continue to be stacked to the quivering nipples with talent. This month’s line-up promises not to defy the precedents set by prior installments. You have Carla Speed McNeil rocking some new Finder action. Brian Wood is wrapping up his introduction to The Massive. Throw in new sheezy by Evan Dorkin as well as a Fiona Staples variant cover? C’mon yo. This is belt-bursting win packed into this package here. It’s a nice package. Admire the outline. Nod with courtesy. Now move along.

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Come one, come all into the rodeo of splash-page-ultra-narrative death. This is Near Mint Condition, the column where we gather in a neat circle and share the new funny books that are exciting us. It’s communal. Like the showers. Like the water fountain. I go first. Don’t lag behind. This week is replete with eccentric wunder-artists, premiere issues, and breast milk. It’s going to be fun.

Don’t know what’s coming out this week? Hit up ComicList. Excuses removed!

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Saucer Country #1
Beast mode creative team, initialized! Paul Cornell and Ryan Kelly are teaming up for this new Vertigo series. The premise! Pah! You ask for a premise. Fine! Arcadia Alvarado is the Governor of New Mexico as well as the leading Democratic candidate for president. She isn’t just a multiculturalist’s dream, she also claims to be an alien abductee. Stop me if you see the metaphor. You see…illegal aliens, and, and, and. Who the fuck am I kidding? I haven’t read it yet. I’m stoked though because Paul Cornell won me over with his Lex Luthor hilari-madness on Action Comics whole artist Ryan Kelly held it down on Northlanders. Seems like a tandem worthy of championing, and I’m always looking for the oddity channeled through the creator-owned funnel.

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Fantastic Four #604
Holy tits!, Jonathan Hickman has been penning this title for three fucking years? Truth be made plain, I only know this because Marvel is marketing this issue as the conclusion of the “Three Year Existentialistory!” Well, without my snazzy made-up word. It’s been a goddamn blast though, and as Hickman puts the bows on all his threads I’ll be surfing the Trope Fantastic along with him. Three years. Pow! Jesus Christ.  I have no idea how Hickman has handled all the various strands he has had dangling throughout the Omniverse, but they haven’t let me down. When Future Franklin and Valerie emerged from their portahole or whatever at the end of the prior issue the nipples got a bit tight.

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Saga #1
There is a form of kindness that is bestowing upon people that which they don’t deserve. Paying it forward. I don’t know if I deserve Saga by Brian K. Vaughn and Fiona Staples, but I’m going to fucking take it. The sci-fi tale of two people on opposite sides of a intergalactic civil war coming together and proving love can prove on the battlefield is finally here. After the announcement, we had the uproar over the whole Breastfeeding Thing. Like really, with the broken-spined booty popping and pushed-up titties that we’re awash in, this maternal riff pisses someone off? Ohhhhhkay, Whatever. We’re here. We’ve served our time. Behold the winged-horned-dialectic!

This series is going to be fantastic. I can feel it in my knees. That’s where I feel upcoming storms, my love for Commander Shepard, and quality upcoming comic books.

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