New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4 – “World Eater”

* Part 4 of 6 of the Everything Dies storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4 – “World Eater”! In the previous installment, Beast is the new owner of Professor Xavier’s gem. They nab him, try to assemble the pretty gauntlet, and Captain America ruins the gauntlet and destroys all the stones trying to save the universe

Now there are no other options, but Cap is still stubborn about doing the right thing. SO, the rest of the Avengers wipe his memory and decide to carry on without him. It was unanimous! Fuck that guy. Let’s enter the Moral Gray Zone, gentlemen! It’s way more fun there anyway.

The Illuminati have officially kicked Captain America off the roster! Go jerk off an American flag, nerd.


New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4 [May, 2013]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“World Eater”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Reed Richards and Tony Stark are discussing the device that Black Swan used to destroy the Earth that she jumped from before landing on this Earth. A bomb? Negative! An antiproton sling!

Unimpressed, Stark checks his watch. “Well, you gotta admit, there’s a certain amount of dark poetry to using an antimatter bomb to kill a world.”

Richards and T’Challa are spending their time trying to reverse engineer Black Swan’s device and build their own version. It’ll be at least another day to finish, and yet another day to run simulations. And here I am thinking that it takes me a whole afternoon to build an IKEA crib. These guys must be geniuses!

Stark tells the two of them to put these helmet dealies on. Richards recognizes them as military-grade Shi-ar Omnicasters! T’Challa is on to all of Stark’s watch-checkin’.

“Avoiding prying eyes means you have a very small window in which to bounce a signal to the other side of the sun. Window’s open, gentlemen. Let’s take a little walk,” Tony says as he outfits his own noggin’ with a Shi-ar Helmet Whatsits. He leads them outside, where his company is working on building a Dyson sphere! A real one! A Dyson sphere is supposed to be hypothetical; the idea is to build a structure that completely encompasses a star in order to harness its energy. Stark is not only building one on short-notice, but it’s going to work flawlessly!

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

I’ve weaponized planets, comets, asteroids, meteorites, moons, and the Van Allen radiation belt. So, I thought, hell. Stars.

Stark estimates about a month to completion, but they only need about two percent of it built to achieve the goal of bouncing that signal. So, all they need now is a name for it.

“Sol’s Hammer,” Richards says vaguely, eyes agape, mouth loaded with drool.

At the Sanctum of Doctor Strange (love or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Sol’s Hammer), the Good Doctor has a large, occult tome open on his table. One of his assistants/sexual slaves, Wong, brings in tea and notices the large, scary book with a shiver of fright.

“Doctor, no spell in the Blu’Dakorr has ever not caused the death of the caster. To touch it stains the soul. Legend says, it requires the spirits of forty fallen men.”

Stephen Strange is like “look, pussy, sometimes things need to get DONE.”

Plus, the Blu’Dakorr is just the kind of book to liven up the room with some blue decor. HA!!

After Doctor Strange tells him not to fear the book itself, but fear the reason the book had to be opened in the first place, his palm tracking device starts glowing. “And fear most of all… time slipping away.”

Summoning time! Drink your tea en route. One last thing, Wong: I may not be coming back! So I have papers filled out on my desk. The house and everything in it is yours! Take good care of it. There are lots of secret passages for you to explore. *avuncular wink*

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Unnerve you like a FOX, you mean, you little dish!

The little man is a little dispirited, and Strange doesn’t really say much to help. “My friend, from this point forward treat each moment of day as if it were your last. As it very well may be.”

And then he gives him a hearty clap on the back, and then a little noogie!

“Am I going to see you again?” asks the sniveling, whimpering Wong.
“I carry the blood bible, Wong… it would seem unlikely.”

OK, bye-bye then! Papers on the desk, you say? Bye!

At Ellis Island, the terrifying planet hovers close and ominous just like the moon from Majora’s Mask! Only that was just a video game. This is real life.

The Avengers thought Ellis Island would be a place to freely talk, but they’re surrounded by tourists. Richards and Stark wax on this for a minute before Namor tells them to start fuckin’ talking! Or else he’s going to think they didn’t do shit for the last two days.

Richards starts spouting off a bunch of technobabble like a regular Georgi LaForge: “T’Challa and I have a way to channel an ultimate nullifier through a vibranium barrel… instantly vaporizing the incursion site of that world along with the surrounding one hundred square miles.”

Here’s the catch: the user of the device will be killed as well. So, if we can only get Captain America back we can…no? OK, just thought I would try.

Beast doesn’t like this idea. He came up with another one! Here it is: how about we find Professor Xavier’s hidden Mind Gem and we put all the gems together and we…

Oh, right! Heh heh. OK, second plan: that Earth comes from a universe that should have its own set of Infinity Gems, correct? So let’s ransack their universe of their Infinity Gems?

Reed Richards is like “We don’t have time to find new gems! Assuming they can be found! Assuming they can be used! Assuming they can be used in other universes! Assuming there isn’t a Bizarro Avengers Team using them right now! Hey, maybe they are! Maybe we don’t have to do anything! Who wants lunch?”

Stephen Strange likes the idea and maybe they should try looking for them. If the user is stuck in the other universe, so be it. He has a backup plan he can do there if this first plan fails. It’s unspeakable, though, and it shall remain unspeakable. BUT, Strange volunteers so that he can do his voodoo magic if it becomes necessary.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

I still say we should find Cap and fling him head-first into the other universe.

This somber moment is undercut by Namor’s raucous hootin’. He laughs and laughs! “Let hope die, fools… it’s time to embrace oblivion,” he remarks with a devilishly handsome grin.

Namor then flies away first with his delicate and dainty winged boots. “We are already dead.”

The rest of the Avengers silently follow suit, with the three flightless team members (Richards, Beast, T’Challa) floating together in a cute bubble. They break through the atmosphere and approach the New Earth. The All New, All Different Earth. Earth NOW!

Landing on New Earth’s version of Ellis Island, the first noticeable difference (besides the red-ass sky) is the Magneto statue in lieu of the traditional Statue of Liberty. You know the one, the one with the pointy lady.

“Admit it, Henry,” Namor prods Beast with a smirk, “The idea excites you a little, doesn’t it?”

Not pictured: Beast’s enormous blue boner.

The team has four hours to try looking for these alternate dimension gems. Then Stephen Strange has two hours to blow everything up if that doesn’t work. Any questions?

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Come on Reed, one universe is enough, isn’t it? We can’t be superheroing everywhere we go all the time.

Black Bolt snaps his fingers and brings a little problem to everyone’s attention. A giant asshole named Galactus is hovering above Bizarro New York City and systematically destroying skyscrapers with his Galactus conversion machine of conversion therapy. They have to try and stop them!

At least Reed Richards thinks they have to stop them. The rest kind of look at him like “uuhhhhh”.

Some other big guy with a big scythe-like weapon pops in and tells the New Avengers that they would be dumb to try during an incursion now, of all times. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. Iron Man asks this newcomer how he knew what an incursion was, how he knew to be here, and how he knew to find it in the first place. As if the SUPERHERO ILLUMINATI could be the only people in 900,000 universes to know about it. The arrogance!

“The universe is vast, human. And I am Terrax, the Truly Enlightened.” Does that answer your question, you braindead alcoholic? You Robert Downey Jr. good-for-nothing?

“I know many things…and clearly, you do not,” Terrax continues to belittle and condescend. The ground starts rumbling. Galactus continues vaporizing buildings. “You should run now,” Terrax warns with a smile, “something glorious is about to happen.”

Richards takes that as a challenge! Five hours until the window closes. Namor asks Terrax if he’s going to try and stop them.

“I can tell that you recognize me [Terrax]. Clearly, you know my master [Galactus]. But beyond the Eye of Agamotto [?]… I have no idea who you people [Puny Earth Men Wearing Tights] are.”

In short, you puny Earth men wearing tights think you can stop this? Idiots.

“Galaktus is a universal constant,” declares Terrax, but if he’s so constant how come you can spell his name with either a C or a K, huh? “He must be there at the end of each universe. But because of this world, the universes are dying too soon. So we will unmoor our universe by killing this world.”

The Avengers team all look at him like they didn’t have this same exact idea! But now a bad guy is doing it, so they must stop it! Something like that. Terrax tells them all to go home and stop getting involved. For the greater good, just let this stupid Earth die. Sound fair?

“Or we could play warriors while the world crumbles around us… pretending like this is something you can defeat with your fists.”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #4

Cry, man. I’m just gonna cry. Is that cool?

The Avengers like that second option better! They start pretending like this is something they can defeat with their fists. Terrax starts whacking them with his large glowing scythe.

Final Thoughts

These New Avengers are biting off way more than they can chew here. When it comes to traveling to other Earths to save colliding universes, I’d say you gotta draw the line somewhere and admit you have no control over any of this shit.

But hey, there are still two issues left of this storyline! And they still have five hours left! Miracles happen all the time! All you gotta do is click your heels and don’t look Namor too squarely in the eyes.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5 – “Menace to Metropolis”

* Part 5 of 12 of the Superman: Birthright limited series *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Superman: Birthright, Issue #5 – “Menace to Metropolis”! In the previous installment, Clark Kent arrives in the big city, makes a scene at the Daily Planet office, bumbles through his terrible interview, saves Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen after Lois crashes the company helicopter (lmao), and then gets knocked the fuck through a building after catching a quick glimpse of his old pal Lex Luthor.

So only four minutes as Superman and already he has a nemesis to fight! That’s called MOVING THE PLOT FORWARD. Thanks Mark Waid, you’re not so bad after all I guess.


Superman: Birthright, Issue #5 [January, 2004]
Written by: Mark Waid
“Menace to Metropolis”

Superman: Birthright: Issue #5

God, look at the ugliness of that cover art. These are supposed to be human faces. They each look like they’re attempting to push out turds of three very different consistencies.

The government building operating the terrifying helicopters is in a frenzy. “Someone’s overridden our remote control of the copters!” cries a frantic private at the command console. An anti-terrorism test has turned into accidental terrorism! “Then abort the mission! Now!” screams General Pickford, not hearing the “overridden our control” part.

It’s no use. They also can’t shoot them down in a heavy urban environment either, even though that would likely do less damage in the long run. I’d make that call. I should be a military general.

“Then how did two of them just fall into the East River?” asks the grim-faced and liver-spotted Head Army Man. Well, sir, according to the droves of crazy, homeless witnesses, it was a strong man in tights flying around what did it. But a copter shot him through a building. I swear on my mother’s piss-stained grave, sir, I’m not making this up!

Well, everyone’s in luck, because the Tights Man can’t be killed or hurt by anything ever, so he gets up from the wreckage more determined than he was before. “Well…that won’t happen again,” he says with his poorly-drawn “durrrr” face.

“Who is that guy?” the people on the street point and ask with awed wonder as Superman flies straight into a bunch of bullets and plows through a copter, breaking it into shrapnel.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

♫ Diamonds, Daisies, Snowflakes, That Guy! Chestnuts, Rainbows, Springtime, That Guy! ♫

Superman managed to grab the radio as he busted through the copter, which six distinct voices are talking through at the moment. One of the voices announces that skyscraper evacuations have begun in the heart of downtown.

And in front of the tallest building in Metropolis, Lois Lane bullies Jimmy Olsen into trying to sneak up in order to get a better glimpse of Superman. Lois has balls. Jimmy has no balls to speak of.

Lex Luthor is in his large, crumbling office getting briefed by a screaming man. “Who is he? No visible means of negating gravity, impervious to bullets and explosions and God knows what else–”. He also has time to inform the Bald One that the last chopper has gone down in the park before he gets cut off.

Superman breaks a window entering Luthor’s office. Luthor stays remarkably calm.

“I’d prefer you make an appointm–”
“Shut up.”

Luthor stays seated while Superman speaks to him across the room. “Two dead, seventeen injured. Is this what you’ve come to?”

Luthor doesn’t even know who he is! Superman tells him to drop the “innocent businessman” act and displays the copter radio. “Innocent people suffered because the remote units in those helicopters were sabotaged with ultrasonic signals. I traced them to your towers and to this office.”

Luthor maintains his remarkable calmness, but now the teeth are gritted. When asked how Superman traced these alleged signals, Superman claims he saw them.

This is when Lex Luthor starts turning the tables, making threats that he’ll sue this dork for property damage and false accusations and bankrupt him into learning the high-tech equipment he’s using to fly and use force fields and look so ravishing in those colors of his.

Superman ain’t scared. And Luthor stops mid-sentence when he sees a band of light drape over the front of his shadowed assailant, revealing a portion of the S. Luthor drinks that shit in.

A team of mercenaries enters the office to try to protect the bald bastard. Superman says “No,” when they tell him to freeze, then he does the opposite of freeze. Namely melt. With his eyeballs. All the guns.

“Heat…came out of your eyes… you melted state-of-the-art ordnance,” Luthor states with a frown.
“Add it to my bill, you diseased maniac,” Superman retorts, being a little crude toward the obvious cancer patient in front of him.

Now Lois and Jimmy pop into the office, all smiles. They’re told to leave. She says no.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

Oh wow, ok, two good questions. Let’s see… the one that’s bad I had nothing to do with! Heh heh. And the one that’s good was actually me and not this guy. Any other questions?

Lex Luthor puts on his slimy politician hat and starts flapping his gums about the senseless tragedy that befell the city with respect to the creepy self-driving death helicopters. “This stranger’s amazing actions no doubt prevented the loss of countless lives, meaning that whoever he may be…he is a friend to Lex Luthor.”

He plasters on a big phony smile while Jimmy’s camera goes off, immediately followed by a side-eyed scowl.

The soldiers start kicking Jimmy’s ass while Jimmy hollers “Freedom of the press! Freedom of the press!” Superman blasts them with his heat spooge again.

Luthor has had enough and demands everyone to get out of his office! Superman flies away. Security roughs up the two reporters, takes Jimmy Olsen’s camera, and sends them both out the front of the building. Jimmy grabs his own head and has a Rain Man fit about everything. “I let you down,” he moans to Lois, and she’s nice enough to not agree with him out loud. “C’mon, let’s get back to the newsroom. There’s still plenty of story here.”

As Jimmy continues moaning and groaning about losing the proof, his unbroken camera drops from the sky into his already-open hands. Superman winks and grins in the distance looking like a real celebrity. A real Christopher Reeve-type.

And sure enough, the photo of Lex Luthor giving his full shit-eating-grinned endorsement of Superman makes its way onto the front page of the Daily Planet. The front page of the website, anyway. Luthor is designated within the news article as an “astrobiologist”, which is like the biggest waste of a college degree I’ve ever heard. If any astrobiologists are out there reading this, come fucking fight me you 84-pound twerp. Superman is designated as the “Flying Strongman”.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

Thank you very much “Martha from Accounting” and “Tim from Human Resources”. Your congratulations mean the world to me.

A bruised and possibly drunk-on-the-job Perry White approaches the cubicle with a sheepish Clark Kent. “Not to interrupt the Pulitzer Awards going on in your darling imagination, but I want you to meet your new partner.”

Lois Lane looks like someone just took a big shit right on her face. “Just for a while, while he learns the ropes,” White promises, but starts walking away all the same, “I wasn’t going to hire him, but he filed one hell of an exposé on the chopper sabotage.”

A guy at Waynetech named Otto Juris (back when he worked at Lexcorp) uses a fake name Paul Paxton these days. He built the copters, and Lexcorp is trying to bid against Waynetech. BUT, since the copters started fucking shooting people for no reason, Waynetech backed out. HOWEVER, the connection (that can’t be proven definitively) caused the government to remove Lexcorp out of the running for the bid. Fascinating stuff, guy!

“That’s the first dirt anyone’s turned up on Luthor that I can remember. I’d say that earns Kent his shot.”

Kent whistles to himself like he think he cute. Lois shoots him a skeptical look, but is nevertheless intrigued!

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

Hmmm…too many ugly fucking frown lines to be Superman…

“Off a pretty thin lead. How’d you stumble across it?”

She gets right up in his face and he attempts to both maintain a boring white-guy face and his bursting erection. Clark Kent probably had to learn the hard way not to wear regular underwear in the office. I hope that gets addressed in another Clark Kent first-day-on-the-job story.

“Overheard somebody. Followed a hunch,” he responds vaguely, maintaining his pallid and frowny demure. He asks what she’s staring at, and she thinks he looks familiar. She actually puts her hand on his face to keep his mouth open to check his teeth (boner is now inverting itself due to Super Underwear and rupturing his rectum).

She spends several panels staring, taking a load off the comic book artist for about a page.

“…ah, forget it,” she says, giving up and walking away. Off-panel, Clark returns his penis to its normal place with a SuperFart and moves on with his day.

Clark makes a note for himself to let Ma know that the being-boring tactic worked. And he didn’t even have to try that hard. Because he’s boring, you see. “…but Luthor was another matter altogether,” he writes later in an email.

He goes on to write that he bumped into Luthor completely by accident, and was disappointed in what he had witnessed. Clark had always hoped they’d be friends again some day, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards anytime soon. What with the fact that Lex will be performing experiments on him regularly in the future, that’ll effectively create somewhat of a rift. He also wishes that he was able to practice his identity-hiding chops before “dangling it in front of the world’s smartest man”, but I think we can all be happy that his identity was the only thing he dangled in front of Luthor.

Still, though, this whole dual-identity is just crazy enough to work, you crazy old dingbat! He concludes the email by declaring (brazenly) that he wants to bone Lois Lane, and then a breaking report on the office TV screen announces a hijacking situation. Gotta go do my reporter superhero thing, Ma! Send! Fly away!

Superman: Birthright, Issue #5

I’ll know for next time, sir. Are kale and bouillon cubes still your favorite?

Meanwhile, in Colorado, at a Lexcorp-owned facility, SEX Luthor arrives via helicopter. “Mr. Luthor, sir, what a…pleasant surprise,” says a scientist with a clipboard, who probably first thought to say “pain in my ass”. He asks her to cut out the pleasantries; Lex Luthor doesn’t have time to be fake nice in front of people who aren’t news reporters, politicians, or pre-teen girls! “You followed up on the narrow-band spike of October 14th?” he asks.

“A supernova in Skysector J172, nothing more,” she, Dr. Chun, responds. And the multiple signals on October 29th? Why, those were just the result of atmospheric interference! What did you want me to tell you? That it was the aliens from Sesame Street trying to make contact? Remember those, sir? Yip yip yip yip yip! Heh heh! Never mind, sir, sorry.

She tells this dude to listen up: finding random messages in the sky is going to take some time, so if you’re looking to shut us down because we’re not finding anything, then I’m going to hit you on your shiny dome with a baseball bat! “Put your worries to rest, doctor. I want you to keep monitoring the stars,” he says as he boards the elevator. “Still, tell your team to switch to the emergency generators. There’s about to be a brief power outage.”

And down into the depths of the facility he goes. Down to a secret containment chamber, where a secret thing is being contained within the secret containment chamber!

A large, green crystal shard in a sealed glass tube.

“Marcy? Clear my appointments for tomorrow,” Luthor speaks into the phone, smirking fiendishly, “Tell Mr. Kent I would like to see him.”

Final Thoughts

I can’t wait! Clark Kent is going to show up at Lexcorp and Luthor is going to start stabbing the guy in the chest with a sharp piece of kryptonite, unprovoked, like goddamn Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Paper Girls, Issue #6

Paper Girls, Issue #6

* Part 1 of 5 of the Paper Girls Volume 2 storyline *

Yo, if you’re the kind of person who likes the United States of America for some reason that I cannot fathom, then Happy Independence Day… I guess.

ANYWAY, with that completely out of the way, welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: Paper Girls, Issue #6! In the previous installment, and technically the end of the first “storyline”, Erin and the teenage mutants travel back to the present. The bugs fixed Erin’s horrible bullet wound, but the two mutants kind of morphed into each other during the time travel and are now dead.

In the abandoned house, Mr. Hipster T-Shirt and Beard tries to goad the girls out to the lawn, but the time-traveling pod slowly hums and glows, eventually turning the whole house into one big DeLorean! And by that I mean, it goes back to the future, Marty!

How do they know it’s the future? They immediately encountered an adult version of Erin! And that’s where we left off!

Also KJ is missing, but I’m sure we’ll find her eventually. I ain’t worried. She can take care of herself.


Paper Girls, Issue #6 [June, 2016]
Written by: Brian K. Vaughan

Paper Girls, Issue #6

Erin’s got herself a desk job, per the cover art. Looks like my own cubicle, all messy and disgusting and roach-infested and slathered in toxic waste and covered in hundreds of Clif Bar wrappers.

“Welcome back to ‘Coast to Coast AM’ on this first day of June, 2016,” blares the car radio. That means this takes place in the immediate present! Well, not exactly. Not July 4th, 2022! Happy birthday, America, you giant trash fire. “Present” as in when this issue was dropped, five months before over 62 million really stupid people in the United States voted for quite literally the stupidest man alive today. But hey, whatever, we’ll all be dead some day! Not gonna matter.

That would make Erin roughly 40 years old. The talk-radio station is discussing Native American Mound Builders and extraterrestrials and other paranormal nonsense indicative of Art Bell’s famous conspiracy theory radio show. He starts introducing his special guest, a bestselling author of ebooks involving, among other colorful subjects, “pre-Columbian tribes who constructed elaborate geometric earthworks” when Erin’s phone starts buzzing. Erin fumbles with her earbuds and plugs into the dashboard.

“Is mom insane?” asks the caller.
“Obviously. Why, what did she do now?” asks Erin. Apparently, Erin’s sister received a text from her mother that was just an emoji of an anchor. Sometimes my own mother does things like that! So yes, insane.

“She’s not going to be around much longer, so just let her be old and weird,” Erin advises rather impatiently. It’s 4:40am, which might be the time Erin was awake at the very beginning of Issue #1 getting ready for her paper route. I don’t remember! She does confirm she’s 40 years old though.

Long story short, Old Erin comes across Mac, Tiff, and a Young Erin in the middle of the street, gets out of her car, and everyone goes BBUUUHHHH?? And this is exactly where we left off.

Paper Girls, Issue #6

Great Scott!! Ronald Reagan?? The ACTOR??

It seems Old Erin has no recollection of her past self visiting her future self or else she would be like “oh yeah, this…how could I fucking forget?”. She’s quite confused actually. Mac is too, but in an angry way!

“Could you please tell us when the hell this is?” Mac demands.
“It’s…it’s twenty-sixteen,” replies a rather tired Old Erin.
“What is that, military time? We’re trying to figure out what year we just got zapped to.”

Tiff gets it. 2016. 21st century. Flying cars, hover skateboards, Biff Tannen’s eldery almanac-stealing ass.

Old Erin tries to get Young Erin to prove she’s actually her:

“What’s your social security number?”
“I have no idea.”
“Where does your little sister keep her First Communion money?”
“Behind the Encyclopedia Britannicas.”
“What was your secret name for your first goldfish?”
“Who, Mister Percy?”

Paper Girls, Issue #6

I always assumed I was pranked one night with a tattoo of the Kurt Vonnegut butthole while I was passed out.

Tears are welling up in Old Erin’s eyes. Tears of disbelief, perhaps? Or maybe because it’s super hella early in the morning and all this is super hella taxing! “Lift up your shirt,” Old Erin says, and Young Erin interprets that for a split second as an older woman trying to get a preteen girl to flash her some titties in public. Old Erin quickly covers herself: “Your stomach. Do you have a scar?”

And the shirts are lifted up, revealing two identical asterisk-shaped bullet-wound scars.

“I have wanted to know where this came from for almost thirty years,” Old Erin says, looking down vaguely at her own abdominal disfiguration. Young Erin can’t believe that. How the hell does one forget they were shot?

Mac and Tiff are getting antsy! KJ is out there somewhere being subjected to god only knows what kind of futuristic torture. Playing Pokemon Go? Listening to Kendrick Lamar? The horror!

Old Erin doesn’t know who KJ is. “Who is she talking about?” she whispers to Young Erin after Tiff insists that they have to find her. Young Erin asks her why she doesn’t remember. Old Erin wipes away tears and simply states that it was a lifetime ago. Sounds like amnesia brought upon by too much late-night screentime and/or excessive Obama drone strikes to the head!

Mac is all “fuck this shit” and starts storming away. Finally, Old Erin wakes up a little bit. “Wait! Jesus Christ, you can’t just be out here!” she hollers frantically. Great, what’s going on here? Some dystopian future where Vladimir Putin is invading Cleveland, Ohio?

Well, we don’t get an answer to that just yet. Old Erin demands that they all stay at her place for now while it’s safe. For all they know, their friend KJ time-traveled to a point way before the rest arrived, and she already fucked off somewhere else long ago! So let’s get cracking! She’s got Netflix, an Xbox One, and 100 flavors of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. You guys are gonna never want to return to 1988 again.

Young Erin is covered in about a gallon of flop sweat. Something tells her that she shouldn’t trust herself, but if she can’t trust herself, then who can she trust? Herself? Maybe? Herself? Hardly! It’s a tough predicament.

Anyway, that might be important. The fact that Erin doesn’t trust herself. I mean, it’s all important I suppose. Don’t mind me, I’m having a stroke again.

Back in 1988, Cardinal asks the old man, and I quote, “Dafug jus pass, Grand Father?”

Something about a “folding” and “bending the cube” and some other rad skateboard tricks just happened.

Paper Girls, Issue #6

This isn’t the time to throw out social media buzzwords, pops.

The good thing is, even if these girls could be anywhen (so to speak), the force of this particular…timewarp…ensures that each one has to be specifically in this spot. So that means that KJ is definitely not in 2016. Or at least not on the same day as the other three.

“If any of us were to break curfew now, it would only make this mess more impossible to undo,” says the old man after Cardinal suggests putting a shrimp on the barbie or gettin’ a heid full o’ mad dug’s shite, or whatever, finding the girls now. They can’t find the girls now. Now, the girls have to find their way back on their own. And quick. Or else “home” won’t be here anymore if/when they get back.

So good luck with that, ye wee bairns.

Meanwhile, in the same exact spot 28 years later, the three accounted-for girls tell their full story to Old Erin. She doesn’t remember a lick of it, AND she looks concerned that she doesn’t remember it! Perhaps someone wiped her memory. “Maybe the guys who invaded my year had some kind of…amnesia ray or something?” hypothesizes Young Erin, who read one too many AMNESIA RAY science fiction books!

Paper Girls, Issue #6

If you think Smart cars are dumb, wait ‘til you get a load of this: some cars you have to plug in overnight.

Old Erin’s a little jumpy and tense, but don’t worry. Her house is just up the street! No leaving town ever for this lady, no sir. Born and raised and continuing to live in Stony Stream, Ohio! How’s that for sad as shit, ladies? Please, hold your applause.

They arrive at her charmingly small Craftsman-style house. The girls are free to help themselves to, like…water. By the way, Old Erin still works for the newspaper too! Isn’t that silly and heartbreaking?

Old Erin starts getting into more detail about her desk job at the newspaper, but then she gets neurotic and starts worrying about saying too much. “Fuck, I can’t be talking about any of this. If you know about your own future, couldn’t it, like, fuck with the space-time continuum?” she starts grabbing her head and wigging out. Young Erin is getting a hard dose of reality here, and it’s looking bleak.

Mac tells Old Erin to calm down.

“You don’t get to tell me to calm down! None of this is normal, all right!

Tiff interrupts, for something vastly more important has just been brought to her attention:

Paper Girls, Issue #6

The cars got smaller and the TVs got bigger? What a future!

Old Erin looks so very tired. Mac and Erin are fucking floored, man. “How do we ever afford this? Do we win the lottery?” Erin asks as eagerly as she can muster at the moment, which is not very. Tiff fumbles with the remote control, which has a trillion buttons, and the TV turns on to the middle of a commercial for, I’m guessing based on the year, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows! Tiff, Mac, and Erin’s eyes couldn’t get any bigger. They’d fall out of their sockets, they would!

“How…how is this real?” Tiff asks. Old Erin looks bored and annoyed as shit.

The commercial is over. The news is back on. “This just in from our social media department, an extraordinary Vine posted by Twitter user @JoanyFootball2.”

“What language is this?” Mac asks, making a big frowny face at the giant future television.

The Vine, as it were, which is ironically outdated, shows crazy lightning storms in downtown Cleveland. The kind of crazy lightning storms that were happening in 1988 Stony Stream before the dinosaurs and the motherfucking cockney soldiers started showing up!

The girls ask Old Erin to take them downtown immediately. “I’m not taking a bunch of children to look for some Time Tunnel that a-a-a fucking T-Rex might fall out of!” Old Erin gibbers and flails. Young Erin asks her not to swear so much. “It, um, just sounds like we’re trying to be cool,” she says passively.

Old Erin is an anxious mess and Young Erin is politely tired of her shit. She tells her if she’s not going to help them, then at least don’t stand in their way while they help themselves. Old Erin thinks about it.

Meanwhile, a gibberish-speaking individual clad in a red rubber suit and a gas mask, possibly for sexual reasons, lands in the middle of an office building parking lot. A regular non-gibberish-speaking man clad in a raincoat notices, but Mr. Bondage Alien quickly rips the guy in half with a time-warp swirlie using magic hand-waving genie powers.

The individual removes their helmet.

Paper Girls, Issue #6

Translation: Hey, this doesn’t look like Planet Zebes!

Well that’s unexpected. It sure looks like Erin! Seems like she’s got a mean streak in her after all.

Anyway, back at the Casa de Old Erin, she agrees to help but she doesn’t want to give them a ride in her stupid little car. “We need information first,” she also says, which sounds like such a boring grownup thing to say, for serious.

The power goes out, which still happens in 2016 if you can believe it. The power went out the first time all hell broke loose. “Right before everything went apeshit. Power went out for the whole Stream,” Mac says, closing her eyes, bracing herself…

Old Erin checks her iPhone, which still has a signal. Before she has a chance to explain what an iPhone even is, Tiff recognizes the Apple symbol from the device Erin found earlier! She still has it in her pocket, the little square, screenless iPod Shuffle thing…except even Old Erin doesn’t recognize it. “I could probably retire if I sold that to Gizmodo,” she says, examining the thing. It must be something from even further in the future! Like an Apple Vibrator that also plays sexy music while it vibrates.

Old Erin touches it, and a voice that only she can hear asks her if she wants to connect her existing user ID to the device.

“And?” Mac asks, intrigued, “Do you?”

Old Erin smiles.

“Fuck yeah.”

Final Thoughts

“Fuck yeah” is right! Get that vibrator a-hummin’!

Can, Amon Düül II – Krautrockin’ and Krautrollin’

Aha! I’ve got more music-related derelict opinions about some of the stuff I’ve been listening to in the last couple of weeks. Can? What’s that? Amon Düül II? HUH? And so on and so forth.


Can

Can

Damo Suzuki was just some guy busking in Berlin, now look at him. LOOK AT HIM.

Can is the arguably most important krautrock band of the entire movement, fighting for the top spot with Kraftwerk. Many contemporary genres and subgenres can be traced back to Can: post-punk, techno, ambient, avant-rock, trip hop, post-rock, and alternative dance. Big names that were heavily influenced by the group include Radiohead, the Fall, Brian Eno, LCD Soundsystem, Sonic Youth, even fuckin’ Kanye West. They were certainly always more accessible than the electronic noise that contemporary influencers Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream were making at the time, too.

I had admired Can for a long time, but only found the urge to listen to an album every once in a while. Mostly relegated to background music, I’d throw something like Tago Mago on while reading or writing; never really sitting down and never actually listening attentively to its hypnotic, extended grooves. When I recently started getting more into Bardo Pond and its fuzzed-out, stoned, psychedelic noodling nonsense, I began to think about the space rock and krautrock of the classic rock era: Hawkwind, Popol Vuh, Guru Guru, Ash Ra Tempel, et al. And when even that wasn’t proving to be musical enough for my RHYTHM-CRAVING BRAIN, I turned back to Can.

I never saw the problem with the debut Monster Movie. I actually like Malcolm Mooney’s horrible, phlegmy voice! Plus, for me, it served as a good connection for the early psych-rock Pink Floyd and the mesmerizing loops of classic Can. Now I love the Damo Suzuki trifecta of brilliance that is Tago Mago, Ege Bamyasi, and Future Days.

Just don’t ask me to listen to anything else post-Damo Suzuki. That’s a whole other vibe.


Amon Düül II

Amon Düül II

These rapscallions decided to play guitars and synthesizers instead of hurling pipe bombs through hospitals!

And then there’s Amon Düül II with its goddamned umlauts. I can’t think of bigger, more insufferable gang of German hippies. The band members started off, unmusically, living together in a smelly commune. Some of its members joined the extremely leftist Red Army Faction and started bombing and kidnapping politicians for ransoms and sometimes killing them! Other members created a nice band that made fun music.

I have a hard time classifying Amon Düül II as “krautrock”, and they seem to be lumped into that genre solely because of the “hi! I’m German!” part of it. They lack the mechanical repetition and motorik beats that codify other bands into the genre. For instance, I’ve never thought peak-era Can, Kraftwerk, Neu!, or Tangerine Dream were particularly psychedelic or weird, but Amon Düül II is totally both of these things. They’re the German answer to the weirdo British sensibilities of Soft Machine, Gong, and Arthur Brown.

But man are they good. The early albums are rife with extended acid-bluesy improvisations.  The middle albums are more song-oriented and sophisticated. The later albums are way more grounded, accessible, even poppy, but still delightfully strange. I personally like their sloppy debut Phallus Dei (translation: God’s Penis) and the earworms of Hijack.

I believe that anyone with an ear for early-’70s art rock and prog rock would find something love somewhere in the Amon Düül II discography. And you can take that to the bank! The spank bank.


Other Quick Thoughts

John Zorn

Look at this guy. He absolutely does not get laid.

-Speaking of krautrock, there are plenty of good semi-modern bands that follow in the footsteps of the early greats of krautrock and space rock without being complete carbon copies. They even, dare I say, add in new elements to make their own voices! In particular there’s Loop, Stereolab, Spacemen 3, Flying Saucer Attack, and Tortoise. And hey, you wouldn’t have the Fall or Ladyton or Swans either without a heaping helping of krautrock influence! So put that in your smoke and pipe it!

John Zorn, man. He’s a total control freak spaz. Never even mind his music, his lifestyle is odd and unapologetic. He doesn’t have a kitchen in his house. Unless he was constantly banging girls while he was in Japan in the late-’80s/early-’90s, he seems to be completely asexual. He’s like a Buddhist monk who has dedicated his existence to skronking in a saxophone while real musicians play real music under him. But I kid. John Zorn deserves his own real AudioBiography blurb someday, but let’s just say I’ve been really delving into his many catalogues again recently. It took me a while to realize that I unconditionally love the guy.

-2022 doesn’t seem to be the same deluge of awesome new music we got from 2021, but the year is only half over. It being summer, I tend to gravitate toward old favorites or unheard “new to me” music from the last 60 years. The year is weird like that. Experimental prog rock or international music in the fall, extreme metal in the winter, indie rock in the spring. All three of those seasons I’m apt to devour brand new albums constantly, but summer? I dunno.

All right, thanks for reading my blither and blather! Stay tuned for the next AudioBiography installment where I discuss Vladimir Putin’s favorite country albums and why he has posters of Darius “Hootie” Rucker all over his bedroom.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3 – “Infinity”

* Part 3 of 6 of the Everything Dies storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3 – “Infinity”! In the previous installment, The New Avengers Illuminati Comedy Troupe convenes for a serious discussion: the universe is literally colliding with another universe, and they need to stop it in eight hours!

So half of them are working on building an early warning system, the other half set out to find dead Professor Xavier’s Infinity Gem (gotta collect them all!), and, meanwhile, the heroes have to contemplate the possibility of destroying a world to save their own.

Heavy stuff. I hope someone ordered pizza, it’s gonna be a long night.


New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3 [April, 2013]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“Infinity”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

Cover analysis! Everyone’s looking at a shield on the floor EXCEPT Captain America. Remember when Captain America lost his shield in the Mark Waid story? Now the shield has lost the Captain! If I were the shield I’d try to lose myself as often as possible too. That guy’s always whipping that thing around; not really what the shield signed up for.

Opening scene! New York. Dr. Hank McCoy, aka Mr. Beast of the X-Type Men, sits behind the desk in his luxurious study reading a letter. A letter personally requested to be delivered to McCoy after Professor Xavier kicked the bucket. It was in his will and everything.

It’s a very important letter.

McCoy opens it and it’s just a piece of paper with one word written on it.

“Remember”

What a goddamned ripoff that is! No extra money? No keys to the Private Blowjob Jet? Not even a lousy thank you card? Bah.

“I will have this memory buried deep within your mind, Henry,” speaks and standing-upright-on-working-legs Professor Xavier. Beast has leaned back in his chair and tapped into the POWERS OF THE “REMEMBER” NOTE! If he’s now “remembering” that means it worked! And also Xavier is dead! So that’s, like, two good things.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

Remember what? The Alamo? The Titans? Eat a dick, Professor.

Xavier takes Beast on a little mind-walk across the room that is Xavier’s own mind-study and shows him a secret mind-vault. “I hope you understand the burden I am about to place on you is the highest praise I can offer. I also hope you can find it in your heart to someday forgive me when you find out what I have done.

If I were Beast, I’d start getting worried. What could he have possibly done? Sleep with his wife? Given him the whole school? Oh no, it’s not the Mind Gem is it? Please, Professor, if I have the gem then all those nerdy Avengers are gonna start bugging me! Please don’t. Those guys are annoying!

Xavier starts opening some panels, exposing the keypad that unlocks the vault. “Inside here are journals. Records of clandestine activities. I have been part of something that was both necessary and unthinkable.” No, please, I can see where this is going, sir! I seriously hate having to hang out with Captain America and Iron Man. Jesus fucking Christ, dude. Couldn’t you have put plane tickets to Maui in that envelope or something?

“How do you know you are special, Henry?”

“You always told me I was.”

Bleecchh. You’re a grown man. A grown beast, at least. You don’t need validation from the bald, dead Father of the Freaks! If he was so damn smart, how come he’s dead? Huh?

Beast is now alone. He looks at the keypad on the door and types in “GIFTED”. The keyboard snorts and groans and rolls its eyes and gags and then opens the door.

It’s the stupid stone.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

Ohh mmyyyyyy! That is sooo Takei!

Immediately upon acquiring the dreaded Mind Gem, the Avengers search team in charge of finding it PHASES INTO THE ROOM in a haze of ethereal, blue light. “Welcome to the rabbit hole, Doctor McCoy. Pack a bag,” demands Captain America.

I can hear Beast muttering under his breath from here. “Fuckin’ Avengers. My day is ruined.”

One day later, Beast is in that Wakandan Temple hideout getting his palms sliced open so that Reed Richards can surgically place communication devices within them. If I were Beast, I definitely wouldn’t ever forgive Professor Xavier. High praise or not, this gig sucks.

“It will broadcast certain simple commands to each of us. Run. Fight. Assemble. And so on…” explains Mr. Fantabulous. Other commands include Sit, Stay, Fetch, Roll over. Good boy.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

You thought the knife hurt? Wait ‘til I place this piping hot 1600°F chip in the wound.

Finally, Mr. Beast speaks up. “Assemble, you say? Funny that, because I don’t ever remember actually agreeing to join up with this little cabal. I’ve heard what you have to say, and…I don’t know if I should be here.”

Very reasonable. I’m sure Reed Richards will apologize, honor your feelings and decisions, and allow you to–

“The Beast makes a good point, Richards. We should take what we need and send him on his way. This one lacks the constitution for hard decisions.”

What did you just say to me, Namor, you shriveled up old butthole?

Richards respects Beast’s hesitations! After all, Beast does lack the constitution for hard decisions! Someone said that once and it stuck with him. Plus, Professor Xavier should really be here, but he died on the toilet trying to jerk off. BUT, be that as it unfortunately may, Xavier did trust you with the gem. So suck it up, and not another word about it!

That pointy and excruciatingly painful surgically-implanted palm device also acts as an interdimensional homing beacon. If you’re stuck on some Knife Planet full of stabby knives, we will find you. If you’re stuck on some Ghost Planet full of spooky ghosts, we will find you. If you slip off and travel back home to your cozy, comfy bed, we will find you! Don’t worry!

All right everyone, get in the room! Let’s test our tracking devices!

Cool, they all work. Get used to them, they’re in your palms forever.

Now we sit back and wait for one of those apocalypse dealies.

Let’s see what that gray lady is up to these days. Richards is feeding her French fries, and oh damn son are they ever delicious. Makes being captive worth it.

But enough about French fries and similar indulgences! End of the many universes coming up quick. “Have you decided upon meekness, accepting your end, or will you prepare an offering?” she asks, eatin’ dem fries.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

I’ll tell you the plan. It involves taking you down to Chinatown, baby.

Richards is like “grumble grumble we do have a plan you know”. Black Swan asks him to put his sexy money where his sexy mouth is. Richards starts talking about Infinity Gems and gauntlets and, listen, it all sounds so profoundly stupid out loud, doesn’t it? However, Black Swan is familiar with these sacred Chaos Emeralds! Only she calls them the “Ina Abanayyartu”, and I’m never writing that out again.

“This is a good plan,” she admits, “the stones will not work outside their native universe, so they have limitations. But the stones will buy you time.”

Reed Richards is quite chuffed at this compliment! Then she tells him that all that bought time will run out before you succeed! lol! This makes him sad, and he then announces that they are done here. Ridicule our ideas, huh? We’re the fucking Avengers, lady. The new ones.

So Reed “Between the Lines” Richards takes his leave and Black Swan meditates for four straight days. On the fourth day, she opens her fire-red eyeballs and proclaims “Rabum Alal”. This may be important, make a note. I’m not gonna make a note, but maybe you can for me.

The Gang of Teenage Mutant Ninja Avengers assembles on a Pakistani mountain. They need to spread out and find something, but what that “something” is exactly? I’m not sure. It may be important, make a note of this too! You’ll be making a lot of notes for me.

Iron Man uses his Pentium 8505 processor and hones in on the precise location of their mystery “something”. Forty yards up the face of the mountain. About half a football field. Start hoofin’.

There is not only 6 hours, 37 minutes, and 45 seconds until the universe implodes. No more lollygagging. Namor finds the “something”, the invisible portal to the scary red dimension and the team starts crossing the threshold. They all make a note of how peaceful and unassuming the atmosphere is, giving everyone the booboo-jeebies.

The six gem-holders huddle together and present their shiny little round rocks.

“Focus on the gems. Imagine the six becoming one…remember…they want to be together.”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

Taste the rainbow.

It’s a veritable gangbang of spiritual and supernatural proportions. The gems join with the Infinity Gauntlet. If the glove don’t fit, you must acquit.

“What now?” asks Captain America, bored. Now, my dense friend, the gauntlet is to be used to push the other Earth – the other universe – away. Yeah? And who’s gonna do that? Captain America doesn’t wanna do it! He tries to pass the buck to literally anyone else there, but Iron Man insists. This was your plan, doofus. WE all wanted to commit fiendish atrocities, but nooooo! You didn’t want to hear any of that! Wear the stupid glove, Steve.

“Okay,” he says simply as he advances toward the luminescent, floating glove. He puts it on his hand and it feels like his dick just grew another six inches! So powerful! Wowee Zowee!

The others simply marvel at the beauty of Steve Rogers pushing a planet away with a focused glove beam. So radiant. So decadent.

“Steve! You have to push it away! You have to send it back to end the incursion!” yells Iron Man, carefully attempting to avoid too many three-syllable words.

Stephen Strange declares Cap’s victory, but Reed senses something off. Iron Man senses it too. Weird vibrations. In his pants.

The team gets blown back by blinding, white light that goes “ZZHHRRNNGGGG”.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

Imbeciles! Those were expensive!

“What was that? What just happened?” Beast stutters. Cap says he tried one more final push, but the sky bit back! Now everything’s gone and ruined! Oh me! Oh my!

“You just killed us all, you incompetent fool!” shrieks the over-emotional Namor. Gotta agree with the angry seaman on this one. He punches Cap in the jaw. Cap absorbs the punch pretty well.

Beast watches from afar as Cap retaliates, and now the rest of the team is in a petulant skirmish pile. He’s probably thinking “yeah, I should’ve just stayed home. These guys really are the worst.”

Later, back at Necropolis, Captain America does some alone time staring pver the large city landscape. “Everyone’s ready to reconvene,” Black Panther tells him, but Cap ain’t ready. It’s just been a lot of angry purple-faced screaming. It’s more peaceful out on the balcony away from all the damn screaming. It’s a nice, peaceful city, this Necropolis. “Necropolis is a city populated by the spirits of noble warriors who never knew defeat. It’s your kind of place,” Black Panther comments, “We have to go. It’s time.”

Captain America stops him. He already knows what this meeting is going to be all about. Compromising their values for the sake of expediency. Justifying the necessary evil option. Fuck that! America don’t play that! “I’m not going to just sit there and watch it happen. I can’t.”

Cap needs T’Challa’s word, right here, right now. “Are you with me?”

And that sly cat, he walks away going “When have you ever known me not to do the right thing?”

Captain shuffles into the dark meeting room, hoists up his cajones, and tells the team that “yeah, sure, maybe I couldn’t use the glove properly. So fucking what? I still stopped the incursion, bitches!”

Strange disagrees. Sure, maybe this incursion was stopped, but what about a possible next one. What if it happens in ten minutes? Stones are gone. No glove, no love.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #3

No, you’re the poopy head, Reed.

Well, be that as it may, Cap still wants to consider non-atrocity options. Right T’Challa?

T’Challa disagrees! He has to put his nation first. His own desires mean squat. “Doing the right thing” didn’t mean “doing whatever Captain America wants”. And, in T’Challa’s opinion, he will do whatever it takes to help his people.

Captain America goes around the room to try to guilt everyone into agreeing with him. Nobody does. Not the silent Black Bolt. Not Hank “Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs” McCoy. Not Reed “It and Weep” Richards. Nobody.

“You will wake up one day and have no idea who is looking back at you in the mirror,” Captain America warns to Richards. To everybody, really. He sees how this will play out: they’ll build a dangerous machine, then they’ll debate over when the correct time and situation occurs to justify using it, then one by one, they will be ok with their decision. “We’re doing it for the right reasons. There’s no other choice. It’s the lesser of two evils.”

He turns to Stark. “Isn’t that right, brother?”

Stark sinks about three inches, looking all coy and sheepish.

“Dammit, Steve. Why do you always have to be this way?” Stark grumbles.

Cap goes “buh?”

“Do it, Stephen,” Stark instructs Strange.

Dr. Strange uses his Cumberbatch powers to render Steve thoroughly memory-wiped.

He lies there on the floor like an amnesia-riddled dumbass.

Final Thoughts

Give it two more issues before everyone starts kissing Cap’s dick, apologizing and hoping they’ll forgive him. Especially Namor. He’s done a lifetime of dick apology-kissin’.