Rounders (1998)

Tagline:
Trust everyone… But always cut the cards.

Wide Release Date:
September 11, 1998

Directed by:
John Dahl
Written by:
David Levien, Brian Koppelman
Produced by:
Joel Stillerman, Ted Demme

Starring:
Matt Damon
Edward Norton
John Turturro
Famke Janssen
Gretchen Mol
John Malkovich
Martin Landau

Rounders

PREGAME THOUGHTS

For those who haven’t been to college, or aren’t old enough yet to go college, or perhaps spell “college” with a “d”, on-campus residence halls usually have older students who are stationed on certain wings or floors to be designated resident assistants. These kids are usually extroverted stoners who opt in mostly for the free room and board. As far as I’m concerned, their only useful task for the entire year was posting themed nametags on the individual dorm room doors. On the dorm floor of my freshman year, the nametags were in the form of movie posters. Just door after door of total film-bro shit. I had Rounders, a movie I had never heard of before 2005. I saw that movie poster multiple times a day for months and months. Matt Damon and Edward Norton looked like a couple of punchable douchebags!

My pregame assumption was that Rounders glorified gambling and painted some glitzy, overwrought glamor of playing poker with heavy doses of unchecked testosterone. I assumed the mafia would be involved and someone is going to get their ass kicked to high heaven!

Rounders - Poker

The name of the game is Twelve-Card Snakes. Aces in the hole are wild. Effective nuts are a gap hand, you may as well have a pre-flop open-ended straight draw with that shit. Rabbit hunts are for children. Roll your own and run it twice. The crow flies at midnight.

THE 350(ish)-WORD SYNOPSIS

Matt Damon plays Mike McDermott, a young poker savant who spends a lot of his free time hitting underground mafia-run poker games and risking a lot of his money. One day, he plays Teddy “KGB” (John Malkovich), a Russian mobster with an atrocious accident and a stupid John Malkovich face. Mike is overconfident and bets his life savings on a hand and loses like a little punk.

This makes Mike’s relationship with his girlfriend Jo (Gretchen Mol) tense, presumably. The movie jumps ahead a bunch of months so we don’t actually see a lot of these problems, but my dude ain’t allowed to play poker anymore so he shifts his focus back law school. He’s kind of forlorn, but he handles it well until his best buddy Lester “Worm” Murphy (Edward Norton) gets released from prison. Worm’s a terrible friend, coaxing Mike into helping him play some poker games so he can pay off an incredible debt he had racked up before getting thrown in prison. So Mike helps him, because bros before hoes even if your bro is a horrible, skunky bro. Soon enough, Mike slips back into old habits and lying to Jo about his involvement with the various poker games.

Rounders - Judge Petrovsky

Even Martin Landau can’t hide that he’s tired of Matt Damon’s meshuggeneh gambling addiction.

Eventually, the situation culminates to a $25,000 debt owed to a guy working for KGB. Mike vouches for Worm, like a complete out-of-his-mind lunatic, and agrees to get the money in five days. He’s not able to do it. In a moment that requires the most suspension of disbelief from the viewer, Mike talks his law professor, Judge Petrovsky (Martin Landau), into loaning him $10,000. He takes this money back to KGB and offers to clear the debt with another one-on-one poker game. KGB accepts.

Mike earns his money and is prepared to leave, but KGB basically calls him a chicken, and Mike sits back down to win it all. After another suspenseful chunk of movie time, Mike outplays KGB to win the full pot of $60,000. All his debts get paid off with enough to replenish his original bankroll. He ditches law school and his girlfriend and fucks off to Las Vegas.

TOM’S DISCUSSION CORNER

TOPIC 1 — The Poker!

I was happy, and surprised, when this movie didn’t showcase some overwrought men’s fantasy version of high-stakes poker glamour. Certainly, there’s still plenty of wise guy shit, though. A bunch of swingin’ dicks, pissing contests, at one point Edward Norton takes a big shit right on the table! OK, no, that didn’t happen, but you know his character probably did that at some point in the past.

Now, the only other card game movie I’ve ever seen was 21, that 2008 blackjack heist movie with Kevin Spacey, and it was total dogshit. I’m not a poker player, but I know enough to know that constantly getting dealt incredible hands =/= a good poker player. The most famous poker scene in the last 20 years is likely from Casino Royale, where James Bond has a lucky hand that simply can’t be beaten. That’s not skill, son. At least Rounders emphasizes the necessity of bluffing your way through success.

Still, though, Matt Damon gets a lucky break too often (at least on-screen), and that last hand where he tricks Malkovich into going all in is the luckiest break of luckiest breaks. A total Hollywood situation. Malkovich loses fair and square because didn’t know that Damon, as the coolest kids in town say, “had the nuts”.

Even more unrealistic? Malkovich’s big fat tell? This seasoned poker player with a ton of money on the line chows down on Oreos if he has a good hand. That’s fucking stupid. Matt Damon feels like a genius for figuring it out after sitting down with the guy for six hours.

Rounders - Oreo

They even do a giant close-up shot, just in case you weren’t hit over the head enough with the dang Oreo.

TOPIC 2 — The Accents

Matt Damon’s thick New York Goodfellas accent, especially while he’s narrating, gets grating.

“Listen, here’s the thing: If you can’t spot the sucker in your first half hour at the table, then you are the sucker.”

“You can shear a sheep many times, but skin him only once.”

“Worm’s dad did the grounds, when he wasn’t too fuckin’ drunk. That’s when we did ’em. Of course, the grounds weren’t all we did. Worm put us into a scam a day on all the young aristocrats we went to school with, selling ’em dime bags of oregano, nunchakus and firecrackers from Chinatown.”

It’s like, what the fuck are you even talking about? You grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

But don’t even get me started on Malkovich’s cartoonish Russian accent. Dressed like the captain from the Hotels.com commercials, I was expecting him to start roaring about the moose and squirrel at any moment. “Hee beet mee. Strah-raight up. Pay zaht mahn hees munny”.

TOPIC 3 — Matt Damon Didn’t Fuck Famke Janssen

Go to any corner of the internet where discussions about Rounders are archived, or are still happening in some cases, and someone will inevitably mention their complete disbelief that Matt Damon’s character turned down Famke Janssen. Oh, but no one ever mentions any complete disbelief that Famke Janssen made a move in the first place, OR the fact that Mike McDermott doesn’t show much sexual interest in anything throughout the film, except maybe Teddy KGB’s Oreo fondling.

I don’t have much else to say about this one! Matt Damon did a bad job of allowing fat nerds to live vicariously through him for two minutes. Matt Damon didn’t fuck Famke Janssen!

Rounders - Mike and Petra

Matt Damon didn’t fuck Famke Janssen.

IMDb TRIVIA FUNHOUSE!

According to a Howard Stern Interview, the film is partially based on comedian/actor Norm MacDonald.
Ah yes, rest in peace Norm MacDonald, whose gambling addiction caused him to lose all his money three times and file for bankruptcy twice. Now that’s a better story.

Right before we see Worm released from jail, he shaves his goatee off. This was the same goatee that Edward Norton featured in “American History X” which had had filmed months prior to this film. You also notice that his hair is shorter than the rest of the film and that was the result of Norton’s hair growing back after completely shaving it off entirely for that film.
Don’t you all think Rounders could have benefitted from a curb-stomping scene? Subverted though, with Edward Norton biting the curb. And Famke Janssen doing the stomp. Gruesome and unnecessary, yes, and would have likely become fodder for some fetish websites, no doubt about that either, but MAN people would still be talking about that scene to this day!

Neve Campbell turned down the role of Jo.
Probably because she had to prepare for the mountain of movie and TV roles she would be offered between 2005 – 2015. Pfft.

The hand that Michael uses to beat Teddy KGB in the final game against each other is “Flopping A Nut Straight”, which in this case was an eight of spades and a nine of spades. It was the same move that Johnny Chan used in the game that Michael was watching on his VCR when Petra came to visit him at his apartment.
See Topic 3 in the previous section for on how Matt Damon’s character totally “flopped the nut straight” during that apartment visit, lmao

Rounders - Mike and Worm

Hi! We’re the Poker Boys! We’re here to play a game :]

IS IT WORTH A WATCH?

Yeah, it was better than I expected. It holds up pretty well, especially since this movie predated the enormous Texas hold’em cultural boom by a few years. It maintained a somewhat reasonable amount of authenticity while enhancing the suspense of the game.

Scour any poker discussion groups and you’ll hear a bunch of bitching about how stupid Rounders is with respect to game accuracy, but these people are complete nerds to who would rather their Hollywood poker movie just be tournament footage. This movie makes poker exciting for people who know nothing about poker, so it did its job.

And Edward Norton is excellent at playing the obnoxious fuck-up friend from old-times. He doesn’t get as much screen time as I would’ve liked, but at least his paisley button-down shirts are loud enough to seem like he had more screen time!


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Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7 – “Friend or Foe?”

* Part 7 of 12 of the Superman: Birthright limited series *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Superman: Birthright, Issue #7 – “Friend or Foe?”! Back at it after the briefest of detours. In the previous installment, Lois and Clark visit Lex Luthor, and not only does he not remember Clark at all from childhood, but he’s a big, crazy creep! Who would’ve thought!

So Clark, maintaining his journalistic integrity, must write about Lex Luthor’s Superman research-based Superman opinions, and now the city is afraid of him.

Too bad things went south immediately with this whole superhero idea, huh? Now we get to see Clark flail around trying to get everyone to like him.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7 [April, 2004]
Written by: Mark Waid
“Friend or Foe?”

Superman: Birthright: Issue #7

And even as Clark Kent, the world around him seems to be unintentionally shutting him out. On Monday in the office, everyone signed Phoebe’s birthday card…except for him. On Tuesday, Clark asks Lois to pass him some milk for his coffee, but she doesn’t even hear him. On Wednesday, the janitors and the end of the day walk by Clark and turn off the lights to the office. So lonely! So lonely! So lonely! *Sting bass riff*

On Thursday, everyone from the newsroom meets up at a restaurant…except for Clark. They pulled the old switcheroo, telling people to convene at one restaurant and then later telling everyone but Clarky a different restaurant! Lois and Jimmy almost missed the memo and got caught in the rain, so they show up soaked. The room is already throwing shade. Talking smack. Straight dissin’. “The guy has the charisma of a mailbox. You hardly even realize he’s there, and then you remember he’s been standing next to you for ten minutes. It’s like he’s going out of his way to be dull.

Lois thinks that’s a little harsh, but doesn’t disagree too vehemently! He’s just shy is all.

Another woman tells Lois that he’s not shy, she just thinks that because he has a crush on her. Jimmy admits he does too and slinks in his chair; Lois pretends this little weasel isn’t even in the room. “It’s no crime to be quiet. You want him to wear a red cape?” Lois asks, and if there was any time at all to make the connection, this would have been it. The moment passes, and she’ll never get to that point again.

“It’s the only way he’d get your attention,” responds the other woman bitterly. Cat fight! Meow! Hiss! Scratch! Purr!

What none of these people know is that Clark is across the street, at an empty restaurant table, spying on the conversation with his magic Kryptonian yellow-sun-fueled hearing. Lois asks what would happen if he walked into their restaurant right now and saw everyone purposefully excluding him. The response? Maybe he’d show a little emotion for once.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Showing emotion is awful! A real zero-sum game. Never let other people know you have feelings.

The conversation gets cut-off in Clark’s ears by a bridge explosion somewhere else in town! Before the waitress even finishes asking him if he needs anything else, he bolts like a Sonic the Hedgehog blur out of the restaurant. Cash floats slowly down to the table. Looks like only $2.50! Cheapskate much?

Horns are honking, cars are trying to scramble off the suspension bridge quickly without much success. Before it has a chance to buckle, rumble, collapse, and crumble (!), Superman is already Superman-dressed and grabbing every loose cable he can get his tender little hands on.

People are out of their cars and on the bridge running, but they stop to see what Superman is doing. Just like in Mark Waid’s Captain America, the dialogue of the civilians is slow-witted and effusive. Just a lot of “Izzat him?” and “Dude, look at Superman go! Go, Superman, go!” Good job, Mark, you’ve really captured the spirit of the American everyman.

Somewhere offsite, Lex Luthor sits at a laptop watching a feed of the bridge, listening to the cheers of Superman. “Oh please. First, the bang…now the whimper,” he declares as he presses a key. Another explosion rocks the other side of the bridge. Superman gasps in agony, trying to hold onto what he can as more snapped cables cause further collapse.

“Oh my God! He’s not holding the bridge! He’s tearing it down! Run! Run!” yell a couple of bridge ninnies.

Lex marvels at the splendor. “And, if my theories are correct, there’s icing on the cake…” he mutters to himself quite diabolically. He hits another key on his laptop with a TAK.

It’s unclear to me exactly what this TAK did, but kryptonite is involved. As Superman scrambles around the bridge, hollering at everyone not to panic, he suddenly grips his chest and makes an embarrassing gurgling sound. Like this: “–KK-KKUUHH–”. Is that a gurgle? Sounds more like a rooster crowing.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

OK, look man, that’s not helping.

He turns slightly green, crashes on the bridge pavement, eyes bulging hysterically, while a woman yells for help. She’s desperately hanging on to the side of the bridge! This sickly-looking bastard slumps and flumps over to her and uses everything he’s got in him to hoist back up onto the bridge. “You sound hurt. Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” she asks panically.

He doesn’t know. Then somersaults down into the river.

Cool rescue.

Superman makes the front page news on the next day’s Daily Planet.

“DEMOLITION MAN? Failed rescue or deliberate sabotage? Eyewitnesses argue. Lex Luthor warns city to ‘maintain its vigilance’, offers to match federal funds for alien investigation.”

Clark Kent is back at his parents’ farm. He’s reading over Martha’s shoulder in her Fox Mulder conspiracy nut home office! They discuss the feeling he felt on the bridge, it was a feeling he hadn’t felt since he was 15. Nausea, fever, sudden weakness. Diarrhea! Prolapsed anus! Scurvy!

Clark is impervious to the flu, so this is something else. Something deliberate. And Lex was involved back then too, oddly enough.

We see a quick panel of 15-year-old Clark afflicted with this mysterious ailment and he looks like a coked-up Sufjan Stevens.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Come on feel the KRYPTONITE

Martha can’t find a record of Lex living in Smallville at all 10 years ago. No school enrollment documents, no county clerk office files, no certificates, no nothing. All gone. And a guy like Lex, he can purge any damn record he feels like.

Jon’s been bugging everyone around town, and every time he mentions the Luthors the townsfolk are quick to change the subject. He gives his large adult son a noogie and tells him not to be too hard on himself. If he knows his son, then he knows his son is blaming himself for the monster Lex Luthor became. Nuts to that! Clark was a good friend! All sorts of nice and shit!

Hell, we get treated to a flashback of Clark bringing his redheaded, scowling friend home for dinner one day while they were in high school. Lex looks like he’d rather chop off his own dick with a plastic cocktail sword than be in the Kent household. At this time, Lex had just moved from Metropolis. Martha asks if he’d like lemonade, Lex answers with a curt “No.”

Martha and Clark talk about Lex behind his back. “Seems awfully old for ninth grade,” she observes, and Clark tells her it’s because he doodled a bunch of quantum physics shit all over a placement test instead of answering the questions properly. He’s also beefing with the principal after fixing the school furnace in four minutes without permission. His “fix” involved inventing a clean-burning heat pump replacement.

Jon asks if Lex had ever seen a farm before. Clark says he asked, but Lex grunted in response.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Your face isn’t helping much either, kid.

Ol’ Jonny is in the barn trying to fix his ancient milking machine. Lex spends about three seconds touching it before it starts humming as loud as a dang Cape Canaveral rocket launch, scaring the cows and pissing off Jon. Lex complains that the machine is twice as efficient now, but scared cows are scared cows. They’re also sacred cows. It’ll take months, years, to unscare them! Understand? These are now hamburger cows, doggonit. Go get the grill.

Clark tries to apologize on Lex’s behalf, but halfway through a sentence the little dork runs out of the barn. It doesn’t take long for Clark to catch up with his super speed, assuring him that Jon wasn’t yelling at him (he was), but he was yelling over the noise (and at Lex). Don’t worry, Clark is still annoyingly friendly! Hey, he’s got something to show you! Do you like SPACE?? Well, he’s got a telescope in the bedroom, all shiny and new. You can see stars and teenage girls undressing in houses that are two miles away, and–

“What did you have to do to get this?” Lex asks with complete astonishment, like telescopes are earned with a few less-than-willing blowjobs.
“Nothing. Have a birthday. My Uncle Kendall sent it.”
“Wait. Someone gave you this? For free?”
“That’s… how a birthday… works,” Clark responds, befuddled. Lex is a Bad Boy because he never got a birthday present? Oh boo hoo. My parents gave me bags full of razor-sharp broken glass, and now I blog about comic books.

Clark tells Lex to find Capella in the sky. After a couple of directions, Lex shoves him and tells him he doesn’t need help to find Capella. “I’m not stupid,” Lex whines with a gaping hole of self-awareness and giant garbage dump full of social stupidity. But then, stupidly, he’s not even looking at Capella, and Clark mentions that he’s off by about six degrees.

I expect Lex to start flailing and thrashing with petulant indignity, but he just gives Clark a bitter stare and then quizzes him on some other space knowledge. Clark passes.

Then they start bonding. They lie on the snowy roof outside of Clark’s bedroom dormer window, drinking Sunny Delight and eating Ho-Hos and talkin’ ‘bout their personal scientific theories. Clark disagrees with their physics teacher, who says that there can’t be anything between ultraviolet and x-rays on the electromagnetic spectrum. Lex finds the physics teacher’s statement preposterous as well, and asks Clark how he can even get out of bed in the morning knowing all these idiots are teaching in the schools.

“I’m never going to fit in here, am I?” Lex moans.
“In Smallville? Sure, I think if you–”
“No. Here.”
“What, Earth?” Clark laughs. Lex doesn’t laugh.
“Never mind, you wouldn’t understand anyway.”

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Serves you right for trying to be pity-friends with the creepy kid.

Lex gets pouty again, pretty much calls Clark a fucking hick, and that’s the end of that pleasant flashback.

“The boy was good for you. For a while,” Jon muses, and Clark is inclined to agree. He was always a tough nut to crack, but once in a while he was able to get Lex going on a real conversation. A real conversation on a level that made Clark feel less isolated.

Too bad Lex was a little psychopath whose arms were probably full of cigarette burns and the word “PENIS” carved on his penis with a razor blade.

But, 10 years later, it’s hard to believe Lex is even the same person…

…except for the meteorite. I guess Lex still has the meteorite. Clark always thought Lex lost it in the fire after the explosion…

(woo, suspenseful storytelling here! A real humdinger!)

…but I guess he didn’t…

SO THEY’RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT? Come on, that sounds interesting! Ugh…

We end the issue with Lex carrying out a new plan. The bridge debacle worked quite famously, although the risk of losing a precious piece of his kryptonite, or what he calls his “green xenomineral”, was hard to justify at the time. Good thing that the payoff was worth it! Now he confirmed his suspicions that Superman can be affected by glowing green rocks! Prolonged exposure could even likely kill him! Ha ha ha! Funny stuff.

Now Lex has closed all his Echo Park facilities (under the guise of long-term refurbishment) and doubled his employees’ salaries to keep them away while he works.

“As a boy, I stood at this very threshold and–in one bitter moment–was denied the culmination of a lifetime’s dreams and labors,” Lex speaks in front of a green portal of sorts, which I’m guessing is like a Stargate to Krypton. And he’s all salty that he wasn’t allowed to immigrate illegally to the beloved planet of smartypants assholes. Did I get that right?

“It has taken me a full decade to reconstruct my designs and calculations. Now, ten years later, that moment stands before me again…”

Lex turns on the portal and activates a subspace translator. Kryptonian individuals peer out of the portal with looks of contemplative hesitation.

I guess it worked!

Superman: Birthright, Issue #7

Here’s an even greater success: spelling “success” correctly.

Final Thoughts

Lex is an autistic little pain in the ass. Here’s hoping he falls down a mine shaft.

I think something clicked in the last couple of Superman: Birthright issues. Seeing complex, three-dimensional characterizations with both Clark and Lex has helped a lot in my appreciation for this franchise. Lucky for me, there are about 900,000,000 other Superman comic books out there. That’s a lot of chopped-down trees.


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East of West, Issue #16 – “The Apocalypse: Year Two”

* Part 1 of 14 of the The Apocalypse: Year Two storyline *

Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: East of West, Issue #16 – “The Apocalypse: Year Two”! Good to be back into this dystopian political nightmare. It’s going to be nearly impossible to summarize the story so far, so I would take some time to read through the previous storyline, which follows the first year of the Apocalypse. Or, you know, you can buy the comics yourself! It’s more fun that way! You can read along!

Tensions mount among all the divided sovereign nations of America, culminating into a full-blown war between the Endless Nation and the Republic of Texas. It won’t be long before the others are mired in the conflict as well.

Meanwhile, Death’s son has evaded the Three Horsemen and has escaped the Lair of the Beast. Death thinks, for probably the third or fourth time, that his son is dead. But no, this kid is going to “build a new world” out of the garbage of the old world. Too bad his “trusty” virtual reality Balloon is showing him what it wants him to see through the virtual reality helmet.

If that all sounds like nonsense, it’s because you need to read the first fifteen issues, man! Come back when you’ve done that. I’ll be ready.

East of West, Issue #16 [December, 2014]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“The Apocalypse: Year Two”

East of West, Issue #16

The Killing Fields of Texas. Aha, Ted Cruz’s house? A vast, empty wasteland of red sand and dust. It’s like Mars, except without the cozy charm.

An unknown figure approaches a pile of bones in the ground. Just an abandoned pile of bones. Perfectly good bones just left for dead! “Would you look at this…” speaks the figure about the bones. Then it stomps the bones!

Bones.

Scorched earth as far as the eye can see! A familiar sight. This shit is everywhere to be found on the godforsaken planet. “A people were conquered here… how cool is that?”

Our favorite Horsemen roam the land. Two of them anyway: Conquest and Famine. I don’t know where War is. Probably hanging out in Ukraine. Conquest is riding piggyback on a giant hunter dude with a giant gun and handlebars in his teeth. He’s a veritable Harley. A real hog. As you may recall, Conquest can’t walk very well anymore. His right leg is a stump now. Famine still walks. She bends down among the scattering of BONES and SKULLS and digs into the red river, waxing poetic about waterway carrying the blood and guts of the fallen and carrying it into the cities and towns so that, I don’t know, the alive can eat and drink it or something. It’s some Horsemen wankery. They get off on this stuff.

Famine takes a skull and scoops up some bloody water. “Take a drink, brother. It’s the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.”

Conquest indeed takes a drink and it’s like Kool-Aid, yo. It’s good shit.

East of West, Issue #16

Mmmm, tastes like Strawberry Quik.

“Did you hear that, War?” Conquest shouts while slurping down the polluted water, “Apes consuming other apes! Do you think we should tell them they’re devouring each other?”

War is, I suppose, within shouting distance. The river starts bubbling a little bit, then a head pokes out of the water slowly. “You can’t surprise liars with the truth, Conquest. They assume everyone shares their flawed nature.”

War doesn’t look much like Kid War anymore. But he/she doesn’t look like her old sexy Sex War either. He looks like fuckin’ Robert De Niro from Taxi Driver, all mohawked and gross! Dripping with bloody water. Disgusting.

War sneers and scoffs arrogantly about these arrogant humans! Thinking they’ve evolved. Thinking that conflict is a bad thing! Pfft, conflict is where it’s at. Conflict is the good stuff! But the Horsemen, they know that. Who cares what the humans think? They all smell bad and they poop. It’s atrocious.

Conquest offers War the Skull o’ Blood, and he takes a big nasty swig from it himself. “These people… they hate each other. And… oh how they act accordingly.”

*OPENING CREDITS*

*Perfect Strangers theme music*

Welcome to 2065! It’s the second year of this Apocalypse. It’s just dragging along on its own sweet time, isn’t it? Like, isn’t the Apocalypse supposed to last maybe a second? Then all the righteous get airlifted up to heaven? The rest burn and that’s it? This is taking too long! What is this, college?

This issue is already basically half over! It’s like that one episode of Breaking Bad where the opening credits happen after twenty minutes. It’s like that. Here, I need to put in another picture.

East of West, Issue #16

Ha ha, good one Tom. Very hilarious.

Lots of text boxes setting everything up here. Pages and pages of it. The Endless Nation and the Republic of Texas have historically had an uneasy truce, but Bel Solomon single-handedly fucked that all up, so there’s a big ol’ war afoot. “A single great machine of the Endless Nation appeared in the sky above the Texas republic in the second year of the end times.” And so forth.

The Endless Nation is going after Bel Solomon even if they have to raze Texas to the ground. I, for one, welcome this! Nothing but upsides when it comes to razing Texas.

But they weren’t successful. The “only remaining garrison of Texas Rangers” was able to bring the single great machine down and slaughter everyone aboard.

Too bad for Texas that the Endless Nation has a lot more than just that single great machine. They have, like, at least seven octillion more where that came from. Records indicate that a new wave of ships blacked out the sun. Some real unprecedented shit. “City after city fell, until Governor Bel Solomon and his Rangers made their last stand in the capital stronghold of Austin. Most died. All fell. And the Texas Republic was conquered for the first – and last – time.”

Woo hoo! Uncork the champagne! The Endless Nation toasted those Texans. Some real Texas Toast. And now the land is theirs. All because Bel Solomon was possessed. Like a jerk.

East of West, Issue #16

Sounds like some of that #blessed United States God-given right shit rubbed off on you guys.

“This is justice,” declares the leader of the Endless Nation, presenting the hanged body of a Ranger to the masses while Bel Solomon, with a noose around his own neck, awaits on the platform. “It is not a flavor unknown to you – as you Texans love your justice. It is a meal you have served, but so rarely consumed.”

That’s right, you Texan fuckers. A taste of your own medicine. Solomon looks positively feral, getting whispers in his ear from his dead ghost buddy Cheveyo. “You see it, don’t you? What they’re going to do?” Cheveyo growls, “Strangle us slowly and replace the living with their automatons of progress. What good is imperfect man when compared to perfect machine?

A fair point. All those robot arms taking the labor jobs away, etc.

Mr. Endless Nation keeps rambling on the future of Texas. A new beginning. The end of the old ways. There’s a place for each civilian…there’s just no place for *points thumb at Bel Solomon* this jagoff over here. This guy is not good for progress. Gonna get noosed, this one.

“These lands – from border to border – have for too long been burdened by the illusion of democracy. Look what it has given you.” *points thumb at Bel Solomon* this jagoff over here.

I’m all for giving Texas its comeuppance, but man is this Endless Nation guy verbose. Is this what they can expect? A whole lot of talking? That sounds dull. Texans don’t like to be bored. Texans like guns and ten-gallon hats and spurs and propane tanks and bigotry.

Plus, all of this beefin’ was because Bel “Cut the Baby in Half” Solomon killed a dude during a diplomatic meeting, which wasn’t very nice at all.

While all this is happening, the Hunter who has been tasked with sniping each one of the Chosen has his gun trained. He looks through the scope right at Bel’s ugly, stupid Texan face.

“Woof!” says his faithful robot dog.
“Yeah. I hear you. He’s a talkin’ robot asshole,” says Hunter of the Endless Nation leader. He’s not going to let this automaton steal his kill!

Hunter shoots his gun. Platform opens up beneath Bel. He starts falling. Bullet severs the rope. Bel lands on his feet with a WHUMP!

East of West, Issue #16

WHUMP! There it is.

Beautiful! All according to plan, whatever that may actually be. Maybe to just scare to shit out of Cowboy Dumbledore for fun before ultimately killing him?

“Now!” Hunter yells, and then his robot dog companion shoots a grappling hook of his butt! He just spreads his legs and hoists his ass in the air a little bit and then a grappling hook comes right out of his butt! PCHOOM! Excellent.

The grappling hook latches onto a thoroughly terror-stricken Solomon, and then he gets WHOOSHED away out of his little hangman compartment. “No!” yells the Endless Nation robot leader. No, indeed.

The robot dog runs off and drags Bel on the ground. Like he’s tied to a bumper of car and some thugs are just dragging the body around. That usually kills people too, but methinks Bel’s gonna come out of this one relatively unscathed.

“If the murderer Bel Solomon escapes, then that fault will rest on all your–” BZZZZTTT! Right in the face, sir, courtesy of Mr. Bullets the lone gunman. Endless Robot’s noggin bursts in a deluge of shrapnel and bubbling purple liquid.

The walking bullet-shooting Endless Nation turrets start clomping around and opening fire while the clanging metal dog books it through the crowd. People are running in all directions, bullets are flying, Bel’s getting dragged through the dirt. Hunter has dispatched a large array of smoke bombs to cloud the scene and increase confusion!

It works. And now Bel and Doggo are on the outskirts of the dusty, plumey smoke. The dog’s not dragging him anymore, which is very thoughtful. Bel hobbles along, bitching and moaning.

East of West, Issue #16

Oh, you two lovebirds.

Robodog takes Bel’s ass through the wasteland. Bel wants to know what the HELL is going on and where the HELL they’re going and what the HELL happened to his pants! Oh, there they are, he’s wearing them. Heh.

The destination is a crumbling shack of a house swarming with security orbs. “Target found. Target acquired. Preparing to–”

The orbs don’t get to prepare for anything, because each one gets its own bullet courtesy of Bullet Jones, the bullet man from bullet city. “You got lucky, Bel…You’re lucky to be alive,” says Cool Hand over here, posing like a badass in one of the windows, business end of his gun smoking and smoldering. “So let’s not waste time bein’ tired and weary. On your feet, man!”

Why? They have to get the fuck out of here, that’s why. The entire Endless Nation will be after them! And they have, like, GPS and stuff. Real high-tech dudes.

Them, plus every other nation in this godforsaken dystopian future America wants a piece! So off they go in Hunter’s slick ride at 400 mph. That’s about 645 kph for my Canadian readers. And pretty much everyone, for that matter. My readers in Myanmar, you know 400 mph.

East of West, Issue #16

It’s my extensive collection of Beetlejuice memorabilia, ma’am.

Let’s break away from the Texas/Endless Nation shenanigans for now. And that’s what they are. That’s the word I’d use for them. Pure shenanigans.

The White Tower. The ever lovely and warm President of the Union, Antonia LeVay, is doing a hyperfuturistic Zoom meeting with her cabinet. Bottom line: she should be concerned. Riots and unrest grows with each passing day. The people are pissed, Madame President. And they’re getting better at being productive with their pissiness! Perhaps a foreign government is funding these people? It all seems a little too calculated. Like there’s a message board or something that they all post in, conspiring and complimenting each other’s anime avatars.

LeVay ain’t scared! It’s just a bunch of children throwing a tantrum. Let them whine and cry, who gives a shit? She’s safe and sound in her ivory tower! Literally!

Keep her posted. Seacrest out.

Ms. Lux, LeVay’s favorite little minx, pops into the office with a large box. It probably contains a body part. “Our latest diplomatic exchange with the Nation,” Lux says disdainfully. It seems the Ambassador gave it his best shot to patch things up with these relentless mofos

And indeed, Lux reaches into the box and pulls out the head of the Ambassador. “I mean, I’m not one for reading tea leaves or guesswork in general, but the subtle art of politics aside, I’m thinking their answer was no.”

LeVay recoils in a rare moment of LOSING HER COOL. Don’t get too used to it.

Now we travel, friends, to the border between Texas and the People’s Republic. The Endless Nation has some good news for the good lady Premier Mao, in that they have completely taken over Texas and there is likely no chance that they’ll take over Mao Land at any point in neither the near nor the far future.

But that’s for later, perhaps. TODAY they agree to an alliance! Xiaolian is obviously powerful, cunning, and ruthless! She is without ruth! The Endless Nation doesn’t want a truce at all. Truces are for wimps. This is a straight up collaboration. Allied powers. Buddies. Pals. Amigos. You dig?

Xiaolian is suspicious. Did you feel that tickle? The one right in your genitals? That’s suspense, baby!

“Why?” she asks, not ill-natured. The shaman of the Endless Nation, with his dumb gold dome head, tells her that they BOTH already know the answer to that. So quit yer jerkin’.

“Yes, but formalities are formalities, the forms must be followed. I want to hear you say it.”

Ugggghhh, do I have to say it? Maaaaan…

The shaman starts saying it. The Endless Nation is not nearly as big as it would like to be, and it cost them a ton to destroy Texas. All those sanctions! Tough times, miss. As it turns out, whiz-bang technological advancements can’t trump sheer numbers. They really shouldn’t have done it, they should’ve just stayed in their lane! But they didn’t, and here we all are now.

Bottom line: they can’t beat you, bitch. And they know it.

And fuckin’ Xiaolian, she’s barely even listening to him. She sees someone approaching off in the distance. Someone…uh, very white.

East of West, Issue #16

Yes, those are the two things the sun does and both are good.

“I think hope will be the death of us,” she says as her husband’s gaunt, one-eyed face leers at her during his slow approach, “I am so tired of believing in better tomorrows. That everything is going to be all right. You’re shaman, so you should know – that faint light you see on the horizon…it’s illusory. Because the sun is not rising. The sun…she is setting.”

The issue ends with Bel and the Hunter hunkering down in a dank cave crouched over a barely-smoldering fire and about ten minutes away from getting nude and hugging each other to stay warm. “Got enough food for a week,” the Hunter says, gruffly I imagine, like a wizened 29-year-old Wilford Brimley, “Water’s gonna be a problem.”

If the time comes to put up their dukes and fight their way through some shit, they’re gonna have to fight their way through some shit! Ain’t no other way around it! *spit* *spittoon clang*

Bel is hunched over in a feral fetal position, eyes as large as…Texas…with Cheveyo yapping in his ear about this Hunter guy biding his time to kill him just like he killed him! This is about him and him, and this Hunter guy ain’t discriminatin’! Get the fuck out while you still can! Or, better yet, kill him back pre-emptive strike style.

East of West, Issue #16

Sounds like a pretty good prank, boss. How about this stick on the ground? Right in the tuckus!

“Bel! Are you listenin’?” the Hunter asks, sizing him up. Bel snaps out of it, repeating the thing about the water, then whines about losing his country. The Hunter says it was his country too, dummy. Maybe the whole sovereign nation of Texas thing was a good idea at the time, but Bel got all weird with the Chosen stuff, and…well, he’s pretty looney tunes, now. Time to cut some losses and move on.

AFTER 10 ISSUES, I FINALLY GET A NAME. Thomas. This guy is named Thomas. What a disappointing revelation. What a stupid old guy name. Hah hahhahah. *covers up website header image* ahem, uh

“Why’d you save me, Thomas?” Bel asks, barely a whimper, text all small and hard to read in the speech balloon. Gotta get my stupid old guy magnifying glass. I own six of them.

Thomas owed him, that’s why. Plus, there was no one else to save, so he was better than nothing. AND, maybe, just maybe, he needs his help. “I’ve got a job to finish, and I’ve barely started.”

And apparently, for some goddamn reason that I can’t fathom, Bel’s integral to the plan. I don’t understand what he could contribute. Schizophrenic rantin’ and ravin’?

Nothing like the start of a war to really wake a man up. Really make him realize what’s important and what’s not. In fact, all that matters now is living or dying.

“War is truth, Bel. And now… war’s all we got.”

Final Thoughts

Hitting the ground running already here. Bel and Thomas are gonna get really cozy in these coming days.

Lots of setup in this issue. I don’t have much to say yet, except I’m oddly attracted to Ms. Lux and I’ll just leave that hanging there!

Until next time, sweet dreams you ol’ so-and-so’s.


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Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9 – “Generation Why (Part 2)”

* Part 2 of 4 of the Generation Why storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9 – “Generation Why (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Kamala gets to keep her new, giant, magical teleporting dog. She follows a lead to the outskirts of Bayonne, New Jersey, and discovers a large robot that she had to fight! While the ruckus was happening, a little tracking robot slipped onto her person and, eventually, into her backpack.

The large robot followed the tracking robot and crashed through the fucking school! Kamala gets hurt, drains all her energy healing, and can’t help.

But her dog is there. So that’s good.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9 [December, 2014]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson
“Generation Why (Part 2)”

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

I don’t get it, does Lockjaw have a mustache? Sure looks like he has a mustache. Who made the artistic decision to give Lockjaw a mustache? Why is this the world I live in?

In the large pile of rubble that used to be Coles Academic High School, Kamala Khan kneels next to her mustachioed dog, frowning. Her powers didn’t work at the exact moment she needed them to. What gives?

“I can’t go out there looking like me. Why can’t I transform?! What’s going on?” she panickily rambles. Lockjaw, the Dog with the Fucking Mustache, this is always what his speech bubbles say: “Hrrr– Hurr-uhhh– Hrururru HRRR uhhhh– hrr”. What the hell am I supposed to think with that? Lockjaw has Down syndrome? Is that what I’m supposed to think here?

Walls and ceilings continue to occasionally crumble around them. There’s no more time to wallow! She asks her faithful giant dog (with the mustache) to create a distraction.

She trusts that the giant dog with the mustache has created a suitable distraction as she grows her hands and starts punching and throwing large pieces of anything she can find at the robot. She still looks rather Kamala-y. “Embiggened fists of rage!” she bellows like a nerd as she takes a leap.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

It’s a musical dog! Laa laa laaaa, see? Distraction!

“Hey– look! Who’s that fighting the giant robot?!” yells a girl, maybe it’s Zoe. Remember Zoe? Who cares, Kamala’s cover is blown! That’s it! It’s all over! She’s–

“…it’s a dog.”

And what a good boy!

The police finally respond to the scene, looking all incompetent and shitty. Bruno tries to scramble to the school too, not sure why he wasn’t in the school in the first place. Playing hooky on a day the school is mysteriously destroyed is super sus, dude.

“I gotta remember that there are people inside this thing,” Kamala tells herself as she battles the robot, “Somehow I have to make sure they don’t get hurt.” Is she talking about the people in the school, or people in the robot? And if it’s the robot, why the plural? How do you know it’s plural? It hasn’t been plural before!

Kamala ain’t doing so hot here. The robot punches her, whipping her across the room. Or, I suppose, “the room” if it were still a room at all.

The same fool-ass cops from Issue #4 are arguing amongst themselves about whether or not to shoot their bullet guns in the vicinity of somewhere! “It’s gonna be hard to get a clean shot at that robot without hitting the– the ‘giant girl’,” says the red-haired lady cop. The fat-ass black cop tells her to hold her fire; the “giant girl” appears to be the infamous Ms. Marvel!

The robot starts charging its photon beam, whatever that means. Flashlight! Kamala hides behind a slab of concrete while it gets blasted with a photon beam (flashlight). She then picks up that slab with her huge hands and launches the sucker at the walking pile of nuts and bolts.

Kamala is now drained of strength! Good going, Hoss! Now what are you going to do? Lie down and calmly die?

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Lying down and calmly dying doesn’t seem too bad in practice, actually.

Bruno sees that Kamala is losing the fight, so he uses the power of TEENAGE LOVE in order to bypass the cops and jump to her rescue! Nothing empowers a lanky 105-pound teenage boy like his crush getting the piss beaten out of her by a robot at the high school.

And even though Bruno gets to her first, a blinding light envelopes both of them for a second and the red-headed Avengers lady whom I do not know the name of appears out of thin air. “Goodness, Lockjaw–you were right to summon me,” she says disapprovingly, as if it were Ms. Marvel herself who made a big mess of this place. And, technically, it was all her fault if you think about it!

Bruno doesn’t recognize this lady either, so at least I feel better.

Avenger Lady scoops up the serene, unconscious Kamala, and gets Lockjaw to teleport all four of them to New Attilan. It must be better than Old Attilan. Newer, at least. I hope everyone can call their mom from there! I don’t think anyone is coming back soon.

These stupid fucking cops try to stop them as they are teleporting. That’s fun.

New Attalin looks futuristic and oppressive, like the Planet Express building without the lobster aliens or the Jamaican bureaucrats! Bruno is pretty calm about this whole thing, I guess he’s seen quite a bit in the last few weeks. What’s an alien city to add to the dang mix?

“Your phone has been ringing non-stop. Your parents are probably freaking out,” Bruno speaks to the out-cold Kamala Khan, as if Ammi and Abu have any other disposition separate from “currently freaking out”. She seems to be floating in a sensory-deprivation tank. I’d say nearly all her senses are pretty damn deprived! Bruno also tells her that the one fat cop recognized her as Ms. Marvel, so they should probably kill him! Just kidding! But seriously. Stick him like a pig.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Whatever. Medusa has snake hair. I ain’t hearin’ no hissin’.

“You gotta rethink your work-life balance, K,” he tells her, chock full of Circle Q burnout clerk wisdom. If she keeps cutting class to fight monsters and robots and Thomas Edison birds, her grades will start slipping. Enough about that though, I get to finally learn who this lady is. Medusa, Ruler of Attilan, Queen of the Inhumans, Owns a Summer Home in Donut Plains 2 from Super Mario World. I feel so enlightened now, thanks.

Vinatos is the alien doctor guy tending to Kamala. He’s got long fingers and he looks like he smells.

Kamala’s sensory-deprivation tank is brimming with blue liquid, which Bruno hypothesizes is “cellular peptide mixed with liquid oxygen”, and he’s almost correct! It’s neuropeptides and oxygen, you dumbshit! And it supports her body’s special healing powers. So let’s wake her up and see if it worked.

A-BLUB-BLUB-BLUB-BLUB-BLUB-BLUB!!

Looks like we’re all good!

“What the what?” she says, a regular Liz Lemon, “Where am I? Why am I covered in slime?”

Oh hello there, Kamala Khan! Welcome to New Attalin! This is your home now, apparently. Enjoy!

I mean, whatever, your home is in Jersey City, fine, but New Attalin is your origin. This is where she is among her own people.

“Long ago, one of your human ancestors was genetically altered by the Kree – an alien race. That genetic legacy has been passed down through the generations – to you. You’re Inhuman.”

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Come back whenever you’re ready, you will find that I can shoehorn the topic of puberty into tons of seemingly innocent conversations.

Kamala is just staring at this woman and chewing on her hair. Best buddy Wolverine said she was a mutant like him! As it turns out, though, he also had other theories. “Your powers awoke after you were affected by the Terrigen Cloud, Not at birth, not at puberty–”

Yeah yeah yeah, big scary mist unlocked achievements. But, since you’re already here, “Medusa”, Kamala does have a question that you might be able to field. “My powers– when they first started, I could turn into other people. Even other stuff. Then I found out I could heal, but only in my true form. But today, after I healed when I was fighting that robot thingie, I couldn’t change my face. It was a little scary.”

OKAY, windbag, there’s not one question whatsoever in any of that yet rambling. Medusa doesn’t have time for your life story, else you’re gonna get stoned. Bruno is already stoned, so he’s unaffected, but don’t make me stone you, little miss.

Bug-eyed Vinatos jumps in to answer the question he thinks she was eventually going to get around to asking any day now. Her Inhuman powers possibly become more difficult to revert to after healing. That is to say, healing returns things to their original shape, and more healing prevents that shape from shifting! Like one big mass of scar tissue! That’s all you are right now, just a quivering lump of ugly scar tissue! Feel better?

To put it in gamer terms that only the worst people on earth will understand fully, Kamala likens it to “when you get a really good build going, then the devs decide to nerf your class”. Sure, be a virgin forever.

Finding an identity is already hard when you’re 16 years old. Now Kamala’s a Pak-American part-alien morphogenic nerd. “I am alone in the universe,” she breathes.

Not alone! Unique! Medusa cares about you, she’s cuddly. “There are many others who share your Inhuman legacy–and one day soon, you’ll meet them,” assures Vinatos with all the charm and warmth of a weird bug-eyed alien creep.

Stay here and rest for now, though! Bruno is on board with this idea too! They have a bunch of cans of Dinty Moore beef stew! Is that halal enough for you? Listen, there are about 900 other superheroes who can deal with this Inventor bird guy, you just relax and watch some Teen Titans Go! I mean, uh, heh heh, what even is DC Comics, right?

“Nope. This is personal,” Kamala stands up with heightened determination, “He attacked our school. With our friends inside it.”

Bruno facepalms. This shouldn’t even be a discussion! Vinatos says she’s too young and important to handle this on her own. Stay in bed, you little shit.

“Lockjaw! Zap us back to the non-Star Wars universe please,” Kamala calmly instructs her mustache with a dog attached. Vinatos throws his arms up like a martyred Jewish mother attempting her final guilt gambit. “Fine! Have it your way! Queen Medusa will have my head for this…”

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Nice joke, Bruno, or should I say, Jabba the Slut.

So they leave. They’re back in Jersey City breathing in the shitty air or whatever they have over there. Kamala’s parents are yelling at her for going to school on a day that it was attacked by a robot, so I imagine she’ll be grounded for 14 years for this. No more school for her! Home school from now on! Aamir can teach you how to jerk off.

Ammi wants to send Kamala back to Karachi with her grandparents. You know. Where it’s safe! She was driving all over near the school looking for her, what were you thinking being almost-dead! Kamala tells her she didn’t see her, so she came home. That’s it. End of story.

“We came here so our children would be safe– safe from the chaos and corruption and bombings back home. Only after we arrived did we discover school shootings, date rape drugs and gangs. And now giant robots! What did I do to deserve this?…” Ammi laments, bawling her sad little eyes out while Abu stands there like a plump garbage bag of marshmallows. He removes his hysterical wife from the room so that Kamala can be left alone to enjoy her Dinty Moore beef stew!

Kamala knows she needs to stay inside, but there’s an Inventor out there fucking everything up! She immediately calls Bruno and tells him to arrange a meeting between her and Bruno’s lowlife brother Vick over by the abandoned crackhouse for an afternoon of fun and/or games.

She plans to run over to the Circle Q to get her costume, but she discovers a copy of one hanging in her bedroom closet.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

The “V” obviously stands for “Bob Vila”. Thank you, Bob Vila!

At the abandoned crackhouse, Ms. Marvel and Vick stakeout the abandoned crackhouse to keep lookout for abandoned crack. Or the Inventor. Whatever comes along first.

“You do remember that this is the place where we got our butts kicked, right?” Vick tries to remind our barely-masked Marvel.

She corrects him: “I got my butt kicked. You stood around being useless.”

They both look pretty useless at the moment, eating McDonald’s and taking turns looking through binoculars. Sorry, a monocular. Like pirates.

Ms. Marvel wonders why this is being called a “stash house”. Ain’t no stash here, unless the “stash” is “runaway kids”. Then it makes sense! Vick says she still has it wrong, but Ms. Marvel spots Doyle coming out of the house before he can continue. He and an assistant are taking a passed-out kid in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV fluid bag, somewhere. Vick claims that it must be “harvest day”, when they take a bunch of kids to the power plant.

“Not today they’re not,” Ms. Marvel says, getting up to prepare herself for a little foot-in-the-ass and THIS TIME, she’s Red Forman and not Eric!

Vick begs her to stay back, but she’s already gone.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Now you look like Jake Gyllenhaal! Take that, Bubble Girl!

“You’re not taking him anywhere!” she yells, kicking Doyle down with a giant foot. He just laughs. He was prepared for this, no bout a-doubt it! The Inventor really cooked up something for her, check this out:

*unzips pants*
*a big robot appears on the roof to encase her within a menacing, red force field*
*the pants unzipping was inconsequential*

Her powers are powerless against the powerful force of bubble power! “It’s too bad you came down on the wrong side of this fight, bendy girl. The Inventor could really use someone like you,” Doyle tsk-tsks with a smug Joseph Gordon-Levitt smile, “Instead, you’re stuck here all alone.”

“That’s what you think,” she declares, summoning her mustache. Dog. Whatever. Lockjaw shows up on the roof above Doyle and his lackey, then drops his 450-pound bulk right on top of them. So now they’re all distracted, summoning robot minions to help get this smelly dog off of them.

Ms. Marvel takes this opportunity to try to figure out a plan. Not much she can do within her little bubble…except she can take advantage of the beam that serves as a path between her bubble and the robot transmitter.

So she does a little extendo-arm action along the beam and starts fisting the robot.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 3), Issue #9

Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Elbow deep. You’re a bad robot, aren’t you?

She really reaches up into its guts and tears all up in its insides, pullin’ wires and tearing circuitry. The thing explodes! It blows the automaton to smithereens and disrupts the force field. Look at that, some real superhero shit.

A few other miserable, sad-sack lackeys had exited the house to check out the scene. Now there’s not gonna be a harvest! Whatever that is! “You’re free,” Ms. Marvel tells these delinquents who all look like they just left the mothership, “we are shutting down this insane operation.”

They just stare at her like she just came from Mars. Or, if you will…Venus.

“Wait, wait. You got it all wrong, lady,” says one of them, “the harvest has to go on. We’re volunteers. We’re here by choice.”

Final Thoughts

Ah, so it’s a cult! These kids aren’t being kidnapped, they’re being groomed for Kool-Aid drinkin’ and comet-worshippin’ and Trump-votin’. Good for them. Sounds like it’s really going to work out.


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Calvin and Hobbes – November, 1985

Welcome to my latest new project! A project that will assuredly cause me to lose control and start nosediving directly toward the center of the Insanity Desert, where I will disintegrate into three thousand pieces and no one will ever discover the wreckage…

Hello! Hi! Here’s an introduction! I can cite four comic strips that MASSIVELY inspired my early (and short-lived) ambitions to be a cartoonist: Peanuts, Garfield, Foxtrot, and Calvin and Hobbes.

-My Garfield inspiration is now embarrassing as an adult, and I formally retract this influence even though I bought all twelve original Fat Cat 3-Packs.
-My Peanuts inspiration is still very respectful, because this strip was a huge influence on anybody in the cartoon business who is worth a damn. Plus, most of it still holds up pretty well.
-Foxtrot is Foxtrot. Who doesn’t like Foxtrot?

Calvin and Hobbes is king, though! Calvin and Hobbes is where it’s at! And I wasted too many words on this introduction already! I have many, many days ahead to blither and blather about my childhood with respect to all manner of Calvin and Hobbes! The first entry on my journey will be short and sweet, since the strip’s debut was within the last half of the November, 1985. Just two days before my older cousin was born. I haven’t seen him in 20 years and I don’t care if I never see him again! For all I know he was murdered in Christmas Eve, 2014!

So let’s get started!

Calvin and Hobbes - November 18, 1985

November 18, 1985 – One tuna fish sandwich, and the rest is history!

The first Calvin and Hobbes strip delighted readers of all ages when it dropped on November 18th, 1985. It ran in only 35 newspapers, so these “delighted readers of all ages” comprised 13 people. Good thing those 13 people told their friends, because it wasn’t long before word really started to spread.

So what do you think happened? Calvin’s parents bought him a stuffed tiger, then Calvin fabricated an origin story where he hangs his new stuffed animal from a tree in the backyard? OR, did Calvin find Hobbes in the wild? Perhaps some other child threw him out of a car window? Or perhaps President Ronald Reagan shot down an airplane with a surface-to-air missile directly over Calvin’s neighborhood and Hobbes was among the falling wreckage? He looks like he’s in pretty good shape, but we can’t rule that out.

Calvin and Hobbes - November 20, 1985

November 20, 1985 – The torture begins already.

It doesn’t take long before Calvin and Hobbes begin tormenting his parents into an early grave. Bill Watterson clearly knew what he wanted to do with the series early on, and it doesn’t take long at all before Calvin transcends the thoughts and behaviors of an actual six-year-old (when he wants to, of course). These first couple months are just some mischievous Dennis the Menace shit without any concrete story arcs. Just a little kid havin’ fun and goofin’ off! Isn’t that what life’s all about?… NO?!? Who said that? Get your ass over here.

Calvin and Hobbes - November 24, 1985

November 24, 1985 – The little sociopath already tries to kill his father.

It takes about a week for Calvin’s mom to actually appear in the strip for the first time. Bill Watterson probably had some dad issues and he spent the first few days working them out. As you can see in the above strip, the very first Sunday strip, Watterson inserts some wish fulfillment in the form of the main character shooting his dad several times with a dart gun and (off-panel) beating him half to death with a baseball bat! Look up the very few pictures of Bill Watterson that exist and you’ll see how close Calvin’s dad’s appearance is compared to the man himself. Just a spindly dork. And you can imagine his own father looked similar. Just a spindly dork. He probably told Bill as a child to quit crying all the time as he tore the heads off his teddy bears.

Calvin and Hobbes - November 27, 1985

November 27, 1985 – Playing God starts in the sandbox.

Calvin’s sophisticated imagination allows him to take limited control over his own life when he can, and if that means building up an entire civilization only to snuff it out in one fell swoop with a catastrophic industrial disaster, then who am I to be a judge of his character? This is the first strip that really shows Calvin’s desire to some sort of evil, God-like entity. It won’t be the last.

Calvin and Hobbes - November 30, 1985

November 30, 1985 – Beginning and ending with Goin’ Exploring.

With the final strip of November, 1985, we see that Watterson had hit all the typically important Calvin & Hobbes beats with the first 13 days. Torturing the parents, classroom delinquency, philosophical discussion in the wagon, and the budding sociopathy! Such rich world-building! And look, barring a couple of extended hiatuses, we still have 121 months to go! Buckle up, this is going to be an interminable journey that I’ll never, ever finish!


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