Sunday, December 30, 2007

Just because they make me happy

Spider-Links! Spider-Links! Does whatever a Spider-Link does!

First, we learn that Magneto once had unfortunate facial hair and no helmet, back in the '60s when he fought Spider-Man (and it's Mag-NEAT-oh, Spidey):

The final boss level of Photoshop Hero involves Spider-Man:

And lastly, please enjoy the Ramones:

The World's Greatest Emotionally Stunted Manchild

My friend Kay and I have pretty regular chats about comic books. She's stuck up in the mountains and gets behind on her collection a lot. She's also way behind on DC stuff, so whenever I break the news to her of strange current continuity, the result is either unhappy silence or whoops of stunned laughter.

For instance - I know that a lot of people have been upset by the way Batman, Grace and Thunder are being portrayed in the new Outsiders title. While I do think it's offensive and more than a little stupid, I also can't help but find it hilarious. Kay agreed with me at length and with her permission, I've transcribed our ramblings to the best of my memory.

Me: "So basically, they're saying that the World's Greatest Detective can't tell that Grace is bisexual and in a committed lesbian relationship with Thunder."

Kay (laughing): "You're shitting me! A 'special relationship'? Come on! Really?"

Me: "No, really! The Dark Knight - who we assume has been watching these people in his creepy obsessive way-"

Kay: "Naturally."

Me: " - can't puzzle out why a giant tattooed woman who's about as subtle as a Pride Parade in SF is so 'close' to Grace."

Kay: "Riiiight. He just thinks they share the same bed because they're cold! And she just keeps slipping and falling onto Grace's vagina. With her mouth open."

Me: "Maybe . . . maybe he doesn't even understand what 'gay' means. Perhaps he has zero gaydar. Negative gaydar."

Kay: "Ooh. That's brilliant. Do you one better - maybe he doesn't even get what "sex" is. "

Me (as Kevin Conroy's Batman): "I'm not sure what she's doing to that man but I think it's some kind of slow torture. So much screaming- My God. His wee-wee is deformed! How? Some kind of toxin?"

Kay (as BTAS Robin, trying not to die from the giggles): "Uh, Bruce? Didn't Alfred ever tell you what 'sex' is?"

Me (still as Batman, faux-shocked): "What? NO! No time for that nonsense. He tried saying something about hair in funny places but I still had to learn morse code, Krav Maga and how to escape from a straitjacket in quick-drying cement! Now stop saying naughty bad touch words and help me figure out what's going on down there!"

Kay: "Wow! No wonder Zatanna and Catwoman are always so pissy."

Me (losing it as Batman): "Maybe it's the same stuff Poison Ivy slipped me! The stuff that gave my genitals Rigor Mortis and that bizarre pus-like discharge!

Kay (taking up my slack as Batman): "Followed by a strange sense of euphoria and lightheadedness!"

Aaaaaand we really just lost it to the giggles from there.

One man's foolish mischaracterization is another's comedy gold, people. We just have to learn to laugh at it all so we don't cry. A lot.

Fanpersons Anonymous or Paging Jack Chick

Hello, everyone. My name is K. D. and I love comics.

*cue unenthusiastic chorus of "Hi, K. D.!"*

I've been collecting, reading and generally getting crazy about comic books since I was 11 years old. It's a terrible addiction that has led me to make bad decisions . . . like choosing to eat Ramen for five days straight just so I could afford Greg Rucka books. Or stabbing that guy in Reno for his copy of the collected run of Sleepwalker. Or worst of all, choosing to buy Spider-Man titles in the 1990's.

For every title I kick, two more spring up to take it's place, like agents of HYDRA. I keep making allegories and using similes that would only make sense to fanboys or fangirls (see previous sentence). I read Scans Daily, have a thirty dollar a week habit, read multiple comics blogs and it's still not enough.

Now? Now that I've hit rock bottom, I realize I really have a problem.

I'm- I'm a Comic Book Blogger. God help me. God help us all.

. . . so, are there pastries?