The Eye of the World (Book 1) – Chapter 50: “Meetings at the Eye”

The Wheel of Time - Book 1 - The Eye of the World

The chapters are getting shorter, which means that Robert Jordan wanted to hurry this shit along in the home stretch. I don’t know why, considering there are literally 15,000 pages of story left in the series. Hoo boy.

The Green Man had called Rand “the Child of the Dragon” in the previous chapter, and it really unsettled the crap out of him.

Ol’ Greenie leads the group to an area carved out of the mountains where the Eye is, uh… stored. The Eye was created during the Breaking of the World. 100 Aes Sedai died in its construction. Greenman was tasked with keeping an EYE on it! Ha!

So he kept an eye on it, and now he doesn’t have to because the exact people he was keeping an eye on it for are now right here!

*Mat farts and accidentally poops a little in his pants*

The group walks into the area and eventually stumble upon a cavern with a large pool in the middle. The pool looks bottomless. This is the Eye. Take a photo, because there are a lot of other tourist traps to see! The Eye itself is described by Moiraine to be the “essence of the male half of the True Source”, so it’s filled with penises and balls. It has the power to keep the Dark One trapped forever AND the power to release him from his prison forever! Isn’t that scary, kids?

*throws a rock in the pool*

Only a man can channel the power of the Eye, but there hasn’t been a male Aes Sedai for a few millenia. A conundrum.

I don’t know exactly what Moiraine wanted to do here, because it sure seems like she just wanted to show them all the Eye. Like a “here, look at this” kind of situation, because they start heading out as quickly as they came. This is when two real bitches named Aginor and Balthamel come out of the shadows and start picking on them, calling them names, and threatening them! Supposedly, the taint of the Dark One on Mat is what drew these two hooligans to the Eye. That sucks. Then they start fighting.

Eventually, Green Man comes in to help save the day. He grabs and holds onto Balthamel, who explodes in a torrent of Green Man-type fauna. Green Man dies too, I think! He turns into a tree or something! I think that might mean he died!

There’s still Aginor left to take care of. Moiraine yells at the rest of the group to run while she holds him off. The last thing Rand hears in the chapter is Moiraine screaming.

There’s so much going on and there are only about 30 pages left! This is the excitement I’ve been waiting for!

*throws a rock in the pool*

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575 – “A Night at the Opera”

* Standalone Issue *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575 – “A Night at the Opera”!

Sounds like this is going to be about that Queen album. Oooh, you make me live… This is a standalone issue not packaged with any collection that I can find! In the previous issue of Adventures of Superman Vol. 1, an obsessive woman named Obsession dressed up like Superwoman and tried to seduce Superman 5,000 feet in the air while a group of drugged up ruffian monsters terrorized the city.

Of the Y2K-era Superman series, this one has my favorite art. Use that information in a way you see fit (throw it out a window).


Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575 [February, 2000]
Written by: Mark Millar / Stewart Immonen
“A Night at the Opera”

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

La MORT du LUTHOR! Lex is gonna die and we’ll never see him again, here in his 575th issue of the Adventures of Superman! Iconic!

“A hush falls upon the crowd.” Narration tells me that a gaggle of useless socialites, aka Lois Lane, Lex Luthor, and a nervous guy with a gun, are getting ready for A NIGHT AT THE OPERA. Spoiler alert!

Lois is in her car on the way to the theater when she is stuck between a red light and a bunch of homeless dudes with squeegees. “First we had the Kryptonite scare. Then all that ‘Mrs. Superman’ hysteria. The Mongul. Then Kelex… now this.” She sighs, disproportionately lumping the current stressful situation in a pile alongside alien beings trying to kill her husband.

“Having a spot of bother with the traffic, ma’am?” Superman appears next Lois’ driver side window, apparently now British. “Let me give you a lift,” he says, hoisting the car above his head and flying off like a total asshole.

He drops the car off in a parking spot. Superman’s got change for the parking meter, Lois has the tickets. Time for A NIGHT AT THE OPERA. She earned these tickets from Lex Luthor in a manner I don’t remember, since I was under the impression that it was SHE who owed HIM. No matter, that guy is going to have LA MORT soon enough!

“Have you figured out what he’s up to yet?” Clarks asks of the bald and tall drink of water.

“Clark, I don’t think Luthor would have sent us two tickets to Don Giovanni. If he was plotting the downfall of Western civilization, he’d find another way to torture you,” she responds, clearly underestimating all the free time Lex has to be a dick.

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

What a charmer. Who taught Lex Luthor how to be smooth? Rain Man?

Lex greets them both with open arms. They exchange friendliness in a manner that is as genuine as they can muster while Clark scowls openly. Lois admits that Don Giovanni is her favorite opera, and she considers this a coincidence. Lex gets right up in her face and tells her he doesn’t believe in coincidences! More heavy scowling from Clark. If looks could kill, he honestly wouldn’t even stun a fly.

“That’s quite a streak of generosity you’ve had lately, Luthor,” Clark comments upon this act of kindness as well as selling the Daily Planet back to Perry White basically for free. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were trying to impress someone.”

Yeah, your wife, you dolt.

Lex raises a toast to Clark’s farm-raised simplicity, predictability, and all-around hayseed sensibilities! Enjoy your glass of milk while the rest have champagne, you child. Clark downs his glass with a mighty gulp. “Odd…” he thinks, maybe about the taste of the milk! You never know with this guy and his farm-raised predictability.

Lois asks Lex how fatherhood is treating him, which is news to me. Lex fucks? I refuse to believe that. And Lex refuses to answer, claiming that there’s a lot about him the public doesn’t know and he would like to keep it that way. For the sake of the public, of course. Clark scowls again.

Clark suspects his drink has been spiked. Yeah, buddy. With cum.

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

Great, now I have to pretend to be filling my pants with diarrhea all night.

“What’s Lex up to?” he asks himself. I would advise him to check Lois’ drink to make sure it’s not filled to the brim with roofies. The man we saw earlier with the gun – well, I saw him earlier. You didn’t see shit – his name is Mr. Hedegard. He clandestinely tells Luthor that there’s a possible storm on the horizon and if he should postpone, ah, “tonight’s business”. Lex tells him no, do not postpone it, and shut the fuck up next time he even has such a thought or his ass is grass. And not the good kind of grass.

Lex announces to the room that the show is about to start. Clark frowns and claims he’s feeling a bit sick all of a sudden. You can see the “heh heh” look on Lex’s face. More like a “heh heh heh” actually, now that I look at it again!

When the two are alone again, Lois asks if he’s faking a cramp to get out of this. Clark slaps the woman six times and tells her, no, he just slipped about three bottles of laxatives into his milk. She tells Clark to just deal with it, Mr. Iron Stomach. Act like you are Superman and are unphased by poop juice.

Lane and Kent join Lex up in one of those private box seats. “Excellent to see you make it back, Kent,” Luthor says somewhat sourly. “I’d have been indescribably disappointed if you missed so much as a second of this magnificent performance.”

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

You’re positively glowing, ma’am. Have you been vacationing near Chernobyl lately??

Sounds like Lex has been taking conversation lessons from Alfred Pennyworth! The opera begins, the storm rages. Lex compliments Lois on her radiance. Lois takes the compliment happily! He notices that a scowling arms-crossed Clark Kent looks under the weather and that perhaps a medical team should come forthwith to zap him with defibrillator paddles! Clark grunts that he’s fine and that he’s not leaving for nothing. This guy wants him to not be here so badly. Sexual molestation must be on the agenda tonight, and Clark’s not invited.

Outside the theater, a car barrels down the street and smashes into a car standing at a red light. Clark senses something outside and finally decides that maybe he’s not feeling to well after all.

Superman time! He flies out to the street and finds that a young man had flown through the windshield and inexplicably not died. “Not exactly the White Christmas we were dreaming of, eh?” Superman quips, in February, helping the man up.

Lois is starting to get unnerved by Lex’s bodyguards standing behind them. It’s like, are these guys gonna follow me to the bathroom to watch me pee? Because she hopes so! Also, what the fuck it’s not like she’s going to strangle Lex up here in the box. “They’re only behaving as they’re contractually obliged, my dear,” he says to her, waving her off and starting to get rather grumpy. “You know about obligations. Keeping one’s word on a deal. You wouldn’t go back on yours, would you?”

No, certainly not. He’s referring to their deal: Lex gives back the Daily Planet, Lois kills one story of Lex’s choosing at any time. It sounds like it’s time for her to make good on that promise already. He has been having terrible dreams! He’s suddenly broke. Lexcorp is gone. Metropolis has been destroyed. World in chaos! Teeth missing! Spiders, lots of spiders! Falling! Dying and monsters and running forever! No sex dreams whatsoever, and that sucks. “Does this fear of losing everything betray a lack of confidence in my own considerable abilities, I wonder?”

Lois doesn’t really know what to say. “Who cares?” comes to mind, but she’s nicer than that and tells him that he’s never lost anything in his whole spoiled life. I would say that’s not true and it would do her some good to read Mark Waid’s Superman: Birthright limited series!

“On the contrary. I lost you to that midwestern farm-boy.”

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

Interesting track record for Lex Luthor. I wonder if he was able to get it up to even consummate half of those marriages.

Meanwhile, the midwestern farm-boy is perplexed by all the hail falling from the sky in February. “Just wish I could shake the feeling that this bizarre weather has been arranged for my benefit. After all, why else would a sudden storm be localized to downtown Metropolis?” He starts using fire eyeballs to push his way up, up, up through the falling hail. “Is someone trying to keep me occupied while they’re up to something really bad?”

Yeah, your wife getting raped. LA MORT DU LUTHOR is imminent, though, so don’t worry. Someone is going to John Wilkes Booth this bitch right through the dome if there’s any God in the universe. And there isn’t.

Lois is getting hella creeped out now, but Luthor keeps pushing it. Oh, he claims he doesn’t want to push Lois into an affair. Far from it! He just wants her to smooch his bone, is all! Plus, what could she possibly see in Clark Kent? He’s a complete doofus. He looks like he doesn’t even know how to wash his butt.

“I just want you to know that I’m not the emotionless vacuum that you believe me to be…” he tells her, cold and emotionless. He has feelings too, you know, and he’s still incredibly hurt that she all but SLAPPED HIS FACE when he asked for her hand in marriage! How rude. “Do you realize you’re the first person in my life who’s ever rejected me and never paid the price?”

Well, that’s not alarming at all.

Superman is still out and about saving all sorts of people from all sorts of life-threatening situations. It’s very odd. Now he just saved a taxi driver who nearly flipped his car hitting a fire hydrant. Who put that there in the first place? Gotta get rid of them next, what have they ever done for anybody?

Lois is about to tell Lex that he’s being an asshole, but he hushes her like an asshole and tells her that his – and her – favorite part of the opera is coming up! Don Giovanni himself spreads his buttcheeks and–

Adventures of Superman (Vol. 1), Issue #575

Eh, that’s enough of a nice sentiment for me.

Superman is busy stopping a runaway train while a lot of operatic Italian is sung over several panels. The words are possibly relevant to the situation, but I ain’t barely know me no English let alone Italian. Superman has a hunch that Lois is suddenly in trouble, and that nervous guy with the gun starts doing some nefarious gun stuff.

“LO-IIS!” screams Superman as he flies with his neck unnecessarily strained. It looks like it’s popping out of its neck socket.

Lex Luthor jumps in front of the gunman and kicks him right in the chin; gun knocked of hand and blood gushing out his mouth hole. “Very impressive, Lex. I never knew you had it in you,” Lois swoons while, ahem, CLARK KENT returns from ruining the bathroom.

What a hero! He totally paid this guy to get knocked fucking unconscious to impress one lady. Like the child he is.

Later, Lex is riding in his limo chatting into some electronic bug. “Well, let’s just say that I’m ninety-four percent happy with the final result, but your part of the deal was carried out with the customary professionalism, Mr. Mardon. Expect a very large sum of money to be transferred to your overseas account… and give my regards to Keystone’s other rogues and scoundrels when you get the chance.”

Yeah, I don’t know what any of this is and I don’t care. Mardon? Keystone? Listen, Lex Luthor isn’t supposed to get any help from anybody. That sounds like a character flaw, my good man. Work on it.

He makes a stop at the train station to chat with the gunman, Hedegard. He looks roughed up. Lex grabs him by the scruff and tells him the only reason he isn’t dead is because he carried out the plan without too much of a hitch. Take those tickets get the fuck out of Luthor’s sight, or else you’re gonna be so dead that you won’t even know you’re dead! Heh.

Let’s wrap this up. Superman holds Lois as he flies through town. This whole evening revolved around Luthor impressing Lois and how absolutely, miserably sad is that? Jesus Christ. Anyway, kiss kiss love love happy christmas

Final Thoughts

How very touching. Merry Christmas everyone from all your friends at Tom Writes About Stuff! I don’t care if it’s February right now. Accept my goddamned cheer.

They Might Be Giants

PAGE IN PROGRESS

They Might Be Giants
They Might Be Giants is the brainchild of John Linnell and John Flansburgh, a couple of huge dorks based out of Brooklyn. Starting in 1982, it was just the two of them for a while, using limited instrumentation and a drum machine, before evolving into a full-fledged band (with, like, real guitars and drums) by 1994.

Any nerd you ever knew in high school loved these guys. Known for their smart, surreal, abstruse lyrics and their extremely catchy song structures and hooks, TMBG became a quick cult favorite. Finding success on alternative rock and college radio stations, the duo quickly became one of the most well-known DIY alternative rock groups in an era dominated by R&B and grunge. They even wrote a few albums for toddlers that don’t suck.

One of their most innovative marketing campaigns is/was their Dial-a-Song service, where the Johns would record songs into an answering machine and advertise the phone number. Eventually it became an internet service, and many of these songs would get fleshed out and recorded for their albums proper.

The prime of their career is long over, but there are tons of goodies in the post-90’s discography that are well worth any long-term fan’s time. If you’re new, for the love of God please don’t start with Mink Car.

They Might Be Giants Official Website

JUMP TO:
(1986) They Might Be Giants
(1988) Lincoln
(1990) Flood
(1992) Apollo 18
(1994) John Henry


They Might Be Giants (1986) – Rating: 9/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

They Might Be Giants - They Might Be Giants

The Johns really went all out on their first try. This is one of the most diverse albums I’ve ever heard in my life, and I’ve heard every Mr. Bungle-esque album you can think of. A very ambitious debut, to be able to cram 19 varied songs into 38 minutes and pull it off splendidly with surprisingly little filler. Obviously, not everyone is going to like every song, but I can personally count the tracks on one hand that don’t land for me: “Rabid Child”, “Boat of Car”, and “Chess Piece Face”. That’s less than four minutes. 10% of the album. This is an easy 9/10.

For each song I dislike, there’s one that I love unconditionally. “Everything Right Is Wrong Again” is pop perfection, with Linnell’s nasally voice suited well to the ‘80s production. “Hide Away Folk Family” is perplexing in its subject matter (and weirdly-delivered horoscope during the bridge), but it wonderfully captures the creepy, foreboding nature of fear itself. Like something is going to leap out at any moment. “She’s an Angel” is an innocent — almost too innocent — story of love. But it might not be. It might literally be about God sending him an angel. It’s hard to tell with these motherfucking Johns, with their twisty, abstract lyrics and knack for wordplay.

Those three I love the most. Everything else is good to great, and I could go over each and every song, but what’s the point? Albums like these yearn to be listened to! Not read about! Just know going in that these cats are using a drum machine and whatever rinky-dink instruments they can scrounge up (including the most loathed instrument of all, the accordion). Just know that it’s always about the lyrics and always about the melodies, and these guys are so good at both that the extreme nerdiness is forgivable. I like my music smart, and you can’t get much smarter.


Lincoln (1988) – Rating: 7/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

They Might Be Giants - Lincoln

For whatever reason, I always get the feeling that this is slightly inferior to the debut. Structurally and thematically, it’s still the same type of album. 18 songs with 18 different styles. This time around, the music seems more mature, with some songs more fleshed out than anything off of They Might Be Giants. Even the smaller, simpler throwaway songs are more consistent than some of the weirdo genre-benders from the past. I think the consistency hurts Lincoln. It’s a very even record, with the highs and the lows not too far from one another. As a result, the filler-meter goes off.

That is not to say that Lincoln is subpar. Far from it. Delightful tunes abound! “Ana Ng” is one of the best songs they’ve ever done, a pre-internet love story about a woman that the man doesn’t know and will never meet. How’s that for romance? “Where Your Eyes Don’t Go” seems to be an introspective thought-experiment about the subconscious with classic mind-bending lyrics (“Every jumbled pile of person has a thinking part that wonders what the part that isn’t thinking isn’t thinking of”), but the music itself is unnerving. If you drift too far into the subconscious, you might not get out again! “The World’s Address” is one hell of an earworm structured entirely around a self-aware pun (“The world’s address/A place that’s worn/A sad pun that reflects a sadder mess”). “They’ll Need a Crane” is a a deceptively cheery tune about a couple falling out of love, and a contender for the album’s secret strongest melody. No frills at all on that one, but man is it good.

Now for the filler. “Lie Still, Little Bottle” is some lame Flansburgh lounge jazz . “Cage & Aquarium”, a semi-parody of “Age of Aquarius”, teeters precariously over obnoxious. “Piece of Dirt” is so forgettable that I barely know what to say about it. “You’ll Miss Me” is Lincoln’s clear loser of a song, where Flansburgh distorts his voice into this awful Bill Cosby/Louis Armstrong impression. Really, most of the album feels like filler, unfortunately. It’s like an album comprised entirely of really good B-sides.

The saving grace is that nobody was doing what They Might Be Giants were doing in 1988, so the originality alone is worth the trip. But if you’re looking for an album full of memorable tunes, Lincoln misses the mark.


Flood (1990) – Rating: 8/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

They Might Be Giants - Flood

This one is better than Lincoln, and the one that put TMBG on the map with the hits “Birdhouse in Your Soul” and “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)”. Flood is the band’s major label debut, but a bigger budget didn’t change the aesthetic. Still just the two performing most of the instrumentation, still the drum machine, but now they have a small handful of guest musicians providing virtuosity when needed. Flood is a return to the more obvious stylistic diversity of the first album.

This is TMBG’s best-selling album, going Platinum in 2009. Like many, this was my entry point into the band, and after binging on most of the discography for more than 20 years, I can say that there’s no better record to start the journey. It takes the weirdo kitchen blender of styles from the self-titled They Might Be Giants and the toned-down maturity of Lincoln and combines them into perhaps the most accessible record they have ever made. Admittedly front-loaded that it may be, Flood is packed with sublime melodies. “Birdhouse in Your Soul”, the most well-known of TMBG tracks, presents the point of view of a child’s night light. The infamous accordion-driven “Particle Man” tackles the heady topic of existentialism with petty human emotion (“Triangle Man hates Particle Man/They have a fight, Triangle wins/Triangle Man”). Try to get through the anthemic “Twisting” and the Irish folky “We Want a Rock” without humming along. When I first heard Flood, I kept “Twisting” on constant repeat. That song single-handedly turned me on to The Young Fresh Fellows!

Side Two is not nearly as engaging, but there’s nothing here I find unnecessary except the industrial noise last half of “Hearing Aid” or the short, pointless spaghetti western “Minimum Wage”. Highlights are the bombastic “Whistling in the Dark”, the sea shanty “Women & Men”, and the synthesized crystalline fury of “Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love” (a literal sonic representation of the title). The rest is just enjoyable filler. I don’t find much to write home about with “Letterbox”, ironically, or “Hot Cha” or “Road Movie to Berlin”. “They Might Be Giants” is even a little annoying. But I like them in the moment, and Flood is full of moments.

You want the quintessential They Might Be Giants? This is the album to have.


Apollo 18 (1992) – Rating: 10/10
No Full Album Review Yet

They Might Be Giants - Apollo 18

This is the one. All the good stuff about the band’s knack for melody, bizarre lyricism, developed song structures, and humor can be found right here in a tight-ass package. Eclectic, yet oddly thematic. I don’t know what it is, but all of these songs just seem to flow. Consistency is at an all-time high. Side A is just as good as Side B. I have no complaints.

It’s amazing what these guys can do with a drum machine and a few instruments. The sound is rich and full, even if the instrumentation itself seems to be stripped down compared to previous efforts. This is far from lo-fi, though. The Johns, for the first time, opted to produce an album entirely on their own and the results are immaculate. I love this album’s sound! It matches the vibe of the vacuum of space… without all the fighting sea creatures.

If you want to hear a bit of TMBG’s aggressive side, that which only comes out once in a blue moon, look toward the opener “Dig My Grave” with its chunky mild thrash and adorable distorted vocals. Then it’s just one banger after another: catchy “I Palindrome I” with inscrutably twisted palindrome wordplay, catchy “She’s Actual Size” with Flansburgh’s penchant for lounge jazz ramped up to 11, catchy “My Evil Twin” with its jangle-pop guitar, catchy “Mammal” with its child-friendly charm, and I could could literally go through the whole tracklist this way. No stinkers.

To add even more flair to this already stellar album, the Johns put in 21 tiny songs thematically linked as “Fingertips”. Although there isn’t really a reason to listen to all these in a row and grasp any sort of conceptual continuity from it, you can hella put this album on shuffle and have a completely different experience each and every single time! Innovative! Way better than tacking on a bonus track song after 47 minutes of silence on your last track. Who hasn’t done that bullshit?

My favorite TMBG song is on this one: “See the Constellation”. Some may find those yelps on beats 2 and 4 throughout the song annoying… and I do, too! Still love it, though.


John Henry (1994) – Rating: 9/10
No Full Album Review Yet

They Might Be Giants - John Henry

John Henry, the Steel-Driving Man! John and John named their fifth album after John Henry as an allusion to their transition from two guys and a drum machine to two guys with a real human drummer and a real human bass player. Strange, I know, that it took them this long to get a real band, and a lot of people didn’t like it! For some, this is where they hop off the wagon. Fuck them, this album is great. They didn’t lose their quirkiness, their knack for strong melodies, nor their command of strange lyrics. They just have a real drummer now, you insufferable virgins. Get over yourselves.

Bloated with 20 tracks, there is surprisingly little filler on here even though I used the term “bloated” and I apologize. Each song has an identity and no musical idea is reused. Some don’t land for me at all, such as the slow, mournful country of “Unrelated Thing”, the long, rambling solo vocal “O, Do Not Forsake Me” or the somewhat superfluous one-minute “Window”, but I find everything else worth at least, you know, 20 or 30 listens! Favorites include the bouncy accordion-driven opener “Subliminal” (a melody which will root itself into your brain) with it’s phony-backmasked nonsense at the end; “Sleeping in the Flowers” which alternates crunchy, sinister guitar sections with poppy ska sections as Flansburgh pines over a girl; “Why Must I Be Sad?” and its tribute to SAD GOTH ICON Alice Cooper; the delightful earworm of “Destination Moon”, which is fancy-free considering the narrator is likely dead; and the closer “End of the Tour”, which may or may not be about Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love.

Even some of my gripes are tempered by humor and pacing. “Spy” has an extended free jazz section that may go on too long for some, but the bleating and squonking are quite funny in the right mood. “Stomp Box” is so outrageously distorted and aggressive that it sounds like a couple of nerds trying to play hardcore punk through a blown speaker. And maybe the lounge jazz of “Dirt Bike” might not be your cup of tea, but how about the visual of some lovesick creep boning their dirt bike? Hilarious!

I feel like the Johns wanted to really go all out with their first full-band album. The whole thing clocks in at nearly an hour, but there are just so many great ideas packed into this thing that I don’t even notice. You might notice, though. But you might also notice that this is probably their very best effort in their post-drum machine years. Savor it now, because they’re going to start getting spotty.

PAGE IN PROGRESS – TO BE CONTINUED

The Eye of the World (Book 1) – Chapter 49: “The Dark One Stirs”

The Wheel of Time - Book 1 - The Eye of the World

Time to get up! It’s morning in the Blight and there’s a lot of lovely Blight ground to cover!

They keep traversing the awful landscape where the trees are gnarled and dead-looking. When they witness a tree literally reach over to an animal and kill it, I would’ve literally NOPE’d my way out of there. Moirane tells the group to stay close, which goes without saying. A tree that eats animals. What the fuck is the world coming to?

Most of the rest of the chapter is an action sequence where various horrifying creatures start attacking and the group counters and defends themselves. Mat does that thing where he screams his warcries in the ancient language that he himself doesn’t know he can do until he does it! Then they talk about Worms, which are able to scare all the other Blight creatures, but the Worms themselves are scary, and the Worms are also scared of what’s in the mountains, and all this is pretty fucked up.

When it seems like they’re all gonna die horribly, the land suddenly becomes a verdant meadow of non-gross flora and fauna. It’s where the Green Man lives. If you excuse the Harry Potter reference, the Green Man’s oasis is like the Room of Requirement. It shows up when you need it. Or, rather, you show up to it when you need it. The location of it never actually changes, I suppose.

The Green Man seems like a giant piles of weeds to me. He’s twice as tall as Loial, and he’s a biggun’. He has hazelnut eyes, which sounds frightening. He has long grass hair, so he can become a member of Whitesnake. I’m sorry, how about Blightsnake? Now that’s a bit of humor for you. Only one feature mars his otherwise perfect visage: a scar of dead, withered, brown vines running up his cheek.

Come with the Green Man, children. He will take you to the Eye of the World!

Just between you and me, I wouldn’t go anywhere with this creep.

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4 – “The Quick and the Dead and the Really Dead”

* Part 4 of 6 of the Dead Presidents storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4 – “The Quick and the Dead and the Really Dead”! In the previous installment, Deadpool kicks some zombie president ass and takes some names with the help of everyone’s favorite Marvel sorcerer Jeff Bridges! I mean, Stephen King. Strange. Stephen Strange.

Strange enchants a sword that will help eradicate the zombies and sends them back to the other side. The necromancer is choosing to cooperate because, in all honesty, he seems like a really nice guy anyway. Preston has been briefed that an army of the undead is being raised to take over the country, so they have to deal with that now.

Deadpool makes a lot of jokes! I wonder if a comedian is writing his material.


Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4 [March, 2013]
Written by: Brian Posehn / Gerry Duggan
“The Quick and the Dead and the Really Dead”

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

In South Florida, Undead Marylin Monroe is singing to Undead JFK from the back of a truck. JFK and a couple of alive cronies are loading the truck up with guns and ammo. “Hi there, Baby Girl… we’re, ah, reinvading Cuba.”

Marylin Monroe comes out into the light looking scabby and gross, much to JFK’s disgust. “Yeesh,” Kennedy recoils. “The years have not been kind, Marylin.”

The “Marylin” flashes her dick and pulls out a big sorcery-enhanced sword. “SURPRISE! Say hello to my little Wade!”

Slash, burn, fizzle. Kill. Kill kill kill. Everyone dies. Deadpool removes the blonde wig and grins wickedly. “Don’t go anywhere, boys and girls. The show’s not over. There are so many other undead presidents for me to send back to Hell.” I’m looking forward to that. I haven’t seen much of Jimmy Carter milling about… … …yeah, well, he might not be dead, but he will be by the time you actually read this! Let me know in the comments if it happens.

Anyway, up on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, Deadpool chomps an oversized burrito while thumbing through a history book looking for his next victims. “Can I just kill Nixon again, please?”

Agent Preston tells this guy to make haste! James K. Polk and John Tyler are terrorizing San Francisco right now with a couple of other who-cares presidents from the 1800s. Rutherford B. Hayes? Rutherford B. Giving Us a Hard Time! Ha! That’s MY joke and I’m not letting anyone take credit for it. Why would they? It’s awful!

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

They didn’t have burritos in the 18th century? It’s a wonder why everyone didn’t just kill themselves back then.

Ghost Ben Franklin wants Deadpool’s burrito. And then he calls Deadpool’s Marylin Monroe impersonation “strangely enchanting”. Get it? Because Franklin was a horny boy.

Deadpool and Franklin plummet from the helicarrier right onto the Golden Gate Bridge, where a big group of patriots are defending the existence of the zombie presidents with picket signs like “PARTY LIKE IT’S 1776” and “SAVE OUR DOOMED COUNTRY, FOUNDING FATHERS”. Sounds cultish to me, but that wouldn’t happen in America! Don’t be silly. Ghost Franklin likes their tri-corner hats.

These freaks want to blow up the Golden Gate Bridge! Why? For America, of course. Other reasons and readily apparent, but these folks want Pol, Tyler, and Co. to follow through with it. Deadpool says NO MAS. “So, I have about six pages to kill ten presidents and their henchmen. I say it’s montage time.”

Montage time it is, although montages, to me, imply wordlessness. There are certainly words here.

“Hey, obscure presidents, call out your names as I kill you!” Deadpool says as he leaps toward the group. Zachary Taylor takes offense to the appellation of “obscure president”, but it doesn’t matter what he thinks. He gets re-killed pretty quickly. Then Polk. Then Tyler. Then Fillmore. STAB. SLASH. GUT. GORE. A nearby tourist boat gets rained upon by presidential zombie guts, those lucky so-and-sos!

Time to head back! Deadpool leaps off the bridge, assuming that the helicarrier will catch him, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much one way or the other. “I always thought if I jumped off a bridge it would be over a girl and I’d be nude and listening to the Smiths,” he says to himself pensively. Then he does land on the helicarrier as a miserable pile of blood and guts, successfully finishing his suicide like so many Gold Gate Bridge jumpers before him.

Check San Francisco off the list! Next, the Hoover Dam, where Herbert Hoover (naturally) leads his platoon: Coolidge, Harding, and Buchanan. A meta-note tells us that they should’ve stuck Buchanan with the other guys, and he looks understandably perplexed next to these early 20th century stalwarts of… something. These guys weren’t that great either, actually.

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

DYN-O-MITE!!

These guys fight over who gets to blow up the Dam even though damn Hoover has damn well earned the right to blow up the damned Dam himself. It’s like Hoover, Damn. Deadpool shows up, scares the presidents, causes them to swerve their car off the bridge (which gets blown up feet from the dam) and that takes care of that! Next!

Andrew Jackson, Martin Van Buren, and Franklin Pierce are at the San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant. They’re gonna meet up with Lincoln and then the Adams Family and do some attempted nuclear blastin’. Grab your sunglasses.

Once again, though, Deadpool makes incredibly short work of this batch. Sword’s a-flingin’ and a-slashin’. “YOU’RE GONNA DIIIIIEEEEE!!!”

Lincoln puts up a fight, though, avoiding the sword and punching Deadpool in the mouth. “Be wise and stay down this time.” Then Dead-Honest Abe hops on his own aircraft and skedaddles. This guy is going to be the final showdown for sure. Too bad they already made a shot-in-the-head joke.

Then Deadpool throws his iPhone onto the roof. I don’t know why yet! I don’t even have a joke for that!

Back at the helicarrier, Michael the Necromancer has been detained and he looks rather forlorn in his brig. Preston’s boss, Agent Mustache, doesn’t want her wasting time with the Facepaint Sorcerer. Make with the President Killing or else Maria Hill’s gonna come over here and take a giant shit on the floor. Move!

Ben Franklin ghosts his way through the glass into the brig and introduces himself to Michael. They’re going to have a nice chat. I’m getting a snack.

Michael wants to speak to Tango, which is a codename for Agent Gorman, who is Agent Mustache, and the plot thickens (I guess). Ah, it’s because Gorman was “one of the handlers on Nick Fury’s secret magic school”. Michael studied at that school! Connections are happening! (I guess)

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

Ah yes, Abraham Lincoln, famous for actively befriending slave owners.

Abe Lincoln is headed to Vegas, baby. Viva! A UFC fight has just ended, with reigning champion Adrian Van Lundgren taking it all! If that’s what you get in wrestling when you win: the “all”. Since this is comedian Brian Posehn’s script, he namedrops Scott Aukerman as Van Lungren’s trainer! What’s up, Hot Dog?!

Van Lundgren barely finishes talking before Lincoln strolls in, takes over, and starts talking smack! WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP WOOP! Then Lincoln starts laying down the smack! By that I mean he knocks this guy down with one blow. Then Lincoln starts shootin’ up smack! I kid you not, folks!

The S.H.I.E.L.D. show up a little too late. Ben Franklin thinks they’ve traveled to Hell, but Deadpool corrects him. All the debauchery is Heaven, baby! Viva!

Much to Lincoln’s utter distaste, Deadpool ain’t dead yet, and he’s going to challenge him to a few rounds in the cage! WOOP WOOP! So they work on kicking each other’s asses, which buys Agent Preston time to order an evacuation of the premises. Lincoln is fucking ripped, man. Jacked as fuck. Deadpool asks for advice on the fight from his corner. “You lack the physical prowess for a straightforward confrontation,” Franklin responds congenially, “so stay mobile.”

In Lincoln’s corner, you got Chester A. Arthur, Grover Cleveland, Benjamin Harrsion, and William McKinley. You know… them. Meanwhile, Franklin goggles at some young hotties sitting near the cage.

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

Do you think Ben Franklin can transmit ghost syphilis?

Lincoln really fucks Deadpool up. Bouncing around, knocking down lights, he’s not really having a good time. Some scaffolding comes down and crushes Franklin’s hotties, which is devestating to say the least. “DEADPOOL, KILL THAT MAN NOW!!!” he snarls.

“Ugh, hey Abe, after you got murdered we invented something called a ‘bath’.”

“SHUT UP!!!” Then he slams the bouncy bastard against the cage and reigns blows into his abdomen. “You don’t seem to do anything well except heal yourself, and appear everywhere! I don’t understand your appeal! I hate you. These people hate you. Tell me, what is it that you’re good at? What do you do?”

“I don’t give up…” he wheezes and he reaches for the magic sword of magic killing. Franklin is unable to pick it up for him. Lincoln continues punching the omnipresent, unappealing bastard. Van Lundgren grabs it and hands it to our hero! And I don’t mean David Duchovny, although that would be pretty choice, king.

Deadpool slices Abe’s head off. Then he tears through the cage and slices the other four presidents’ heads off. Taft rolls into the venue in his floating bathtub. “Oh dearie… Abe, I hope I’m not too late for you. Have you gone and died in another theater?” The he grabs Lincoln’s severed head and floats away. Deadpool has won! The crowd woops it up! Tears are in my eyes! Oh wait, that’s because of the mace.

Meanwhile, in a Russian rocket ship, Ronald Reagan has infiltrated and taken over command with violence and mayhem!

Deadpool (Vol. 5), Issue #4

Was it, perhaps, a big ol’ bowl full of jelly beans?

“I’m finally going to get to play Star Wars, Mommy!!!”

Final Thoughts

Oh dear, Reagan’s gonna be the Big Bad! Who woulda thunk it? My parents are gonna be devastated.