Sucky Funnies for June 26, 2022

Remember when the Supreme Court overturned Roe. v. Wade this week? That’s absolutely fucked up. Luckily, the obese governor of my state of Illinois is preparing to accommodate tens of thousands of out-of-state women, per year, who are seeking abortions! That’s awesome. I hope that guy gets elected again this year, but since this country is a complete shithole from top to bottom I’m not going to hold my breath about it.

SO, time to read some of those Sunday funnies to take all our minds off of it!

Carpe Diem

Katzenjammer Kids- June 26, 2022

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How annoyingly wholesome. Carpe Diem doesn’t even have its own Wikipedia page, so I can’t vet this strip to make sure that the guy who writes it, Niklas Eriksson, isn’t a Norwegian/Swedish evangelical born-again Christian asshole who appeals to American Bible Belt hicks with second-grade educations.

I won’t even talk about this particular Carpe Diem strip. I’m mad at it.

MJ N: “Good dog…”
Keith Pixton: “If there are no dogs in heaven, I want to go where they went.”
SeaFox01: “I have so many dogs waiting for me!”

Thanks everyone. Mind-numbingly banal as always.

Katzenjammer Kids

Katzenjammer Kids- June 26, 2022

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Oh my god, dude. Is this yet another one of those 900-year-old comic strips that are still EXACTLY like they were when they were launched. Un-fucking-believable.

You’ve got characters still dressed like it’s pre-Depression. Who is this idiot with the hairy yellow hat speaking like a medieval stroke victim? I hate him! Whose favorite comic strip in 2022 is Katzenjammer Kids? I will murder them in cold blood.

Please tell me no one bothered to write any comments for this one today. Please. I beg of you…

Mike: “Knew that last panel or segment was coming.”
djed: “If you have to know how it tastes before you taste it, I guess you’re out of luck.”
cane75: “The captain is a lush.”
truth hammer: “That first batch of punch apparently had quite a kick . . .”

Fucking GRRRROOOOOAAAN. Four comments. Only FOUR comments, none of them upvoted, and all of them stupid as shit. I’M ANGRY RIGHT NOW. My hypertension is out of control, thumping on my throat relentlessly like a mouse with a boxing glove.

Please, let’s just move on.

Mary Worth

Mary Worth- June 26, 2022

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Aha! Mary Worth! It’s been a while! This is the breath of fresh air I needed! Let’s catch up. The last time I was paying ANY kind of undue attention to this strip, Toby was being hit on by a creepy college student without even realizing it because she’s supremely dumb. That was two and half months ago.

Uh oh, trouble in paradise! We seem to be on a brand new story arc but it’s related to sexual deviancy and promiscuity. An individual who looks so much like Jane Lynch that nothing and no one could have convinced me he wasn’t a woman otherwise EXCEPT for the extremely gender-specific name of Jared. After some quick-ass Wikipedia-ing, I discovered that Dawn is the more established character of the Mary Worth canon; one of Mary’s friend’s daughters. So, surely, too far removed for Mary Worth to even get involved in her personal life. But, certainly, that won’t be the case when the storyline resolves itself in 45 months.

This ain’t no Katzenjammer Kids. Mary Worth gets 177 comments and it’s just a bunch of old people who are positively horny about the progression of the story! There are also the ones who poke holes into the continuity like a real Comic Book Guy.

Chucky Quartarolo “*BOING!!!*”
Ronnie: “But Dawn, don’t you remember asking for Jared’s blessings so you could fly to New York to spend the weekend with Hugo. You wanted one last ‘comparison’ before you chose between the two. Jared just wants to drive up to Fresno. Surely, you can be at least a little understanding.”
activist1234: “Dawn is such a sweetheart. Why would Jared possibly prefer someone who listened, took his advice, complimented him?”

Looks like we’re all going to have to wait for tomorrow’s installment, fellow Mary Worthingtons!

And to requote my buddy Chucky Quartarolo, *BOING!!!* indeed.


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New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2 – “In Secret, They Rule”

* Part 2 of 6 of the Everything Dies storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2 – “In Secret, They Rule”! In the previous installment, we see some brief backstory that shows T’Challa (roughly translated to “the bread”, lol) didn’t want to be part of the secret society of superheroes who secretly wanted to secretly run the world. We also see three young members of the Wakanda tribe who got thoroughly murdered, literally, by Manifold, some other lady, and their army, who descended from a strange planet that was swirling and throbbing very close to Earth. Well, this Earth, at least.

It was all very unclear and confusing. Hopefully things start making sense or else I’m gonna have to go back to more Death Note. And trust me, NOBODY wants that!

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2 [March, 2013]
Written by: Jonathan Hickman
“In Secret, They Rule”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

Ah yes, the “Previously on” pages. How nice. Write my recaps for me, Marvel. See if I care.

I get a roster page too! Now there’s somethin’. “The Illuminati – Holders of the Infinity Gems”. Ohhhhh boy. Here’s the list of people who deemed themselves the most important people in the fucking universe *jerkoff motion*: Black Bolt (Celestial Messiah), Namor (Power Gem), Reed Richards (Reality Gem), Iron Man (Space Gem), Captain America (Time Gem), Doctor Strange (Soul Gem), Black Panther (King of the Dead), Professor Xavier (deceased) (Mind Gem) (dead) (so where’s the Mind Gem?) (fucking dead guy).

This sounds like some serious Sonic the Hedgehog stuff. I hope the New Avengers can keep their gems away from the thieving, stinky hands of Dr. Robotnik.

Professor Xavier being dead is probably something SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME ALREADY, but since he’ll be alive again somewhere else in the future, I doubt it matters too much.

Three hours ago, at the Necropolis at Wakanda, the monochrome villain lady is chanting gibberish while imprisoned in a large glass cube. The sound of approaching footsteps causes her to break her concentration.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

I’m actually David Boreanaz AS Angel, here to sulk and brood in your direction.

The approaching footsteps come from Reed Richards, aka Mr. Fantastic, aka the smartest man in the world even though he sucks at Jeopardy while we’re watching it on TV. He’ll be your interrogator for the evening, so sit back, relax, and try not to force him to jab wooden splinters under your fingernails.

“I do not fear pain,” this woman says, accidentally calling her own bluff by bringing attention to it apropos of nothing. Richards is like “that’s cool, that’s a whole mood” and tells her that he’s just interested in talking. No shit, this is what every interrogator wants. That’s the whole point, smart guy.

In return for a friendly, genial interrogation, Richards can “pretend that he can’t see and doesn’t know what she has inside her”, which pops up on his little Samsung Galaxy Tab S8. It looks like a flux capacitor with a xylophone attached. Deal? So, you jumped here from another world, accessed a device, then destroyed that world, hmm? So…what was that planet called? And don’t say “Pluto” because that’s not a planet! I’m on to you, missy.

“Earth,” she responds, “But surely a clever man like you knew that already.”

Fantastic Mr. Fox is like “Yep! As far I see on these records! But you might be lying! So are you?? ;-)”

She tells him that the “wheel demands its offering”. She had no attachments to Earth, she wasn’t from there, it’s just business. “The Great Destroyer always gets his due.” Richards is skeptical, but moves on. In addition to the whole world-destroying part, she also killed her companion. What was his name again? Manifold? Did you have a beef with Manifold? Was he also an “offering”? Did he “smell too much like old potato chips” and you didn’t want him around anymore?

Listen, dude, nothing is personal. None of this is personal. She needs to do what she needs to do, ok? Stop being such a MAN about it. “So why don’t you simply ask me what you want instead of trying to maneuver me into the conversation you want to have.” The jig is up, Fantastic Sam! Give the lady what she asked for. “Very well…”

“Why did the security cameras in this room capture you crying out for help and weeping in your sleep last night?” he interrogates (very interrogatingly, I might add). She didn’t like that question!

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

I need to focus on my mental health right now! Wah!

Reed Richards challenges this notion that he might not have any idea what’s coming. He probably does! He’s a smart guy! He got tested into gifted kindergarten programs even though he ate all the magic markers and hid from the teachers in the school’s boiler room for six hours a day while playing Pokemon Alpha Sapphire on the Nintendo 3DS! “Why don’t you tell me?” he says, smartly.

Flashback to an hour ago. That means we are now FOUR hours earlier than we were at the end of Issue #1, in case you’re keeping track on your trusty wristwatch. Black Panther approaches the Temple of Whatsits and speaks to the female guards standing outside a steel door. One of them briefs Black Panther on all the sorry shit that’s been happening: “The walls were broken. Blood was spilled. Thousands of Wakandans died, and our nation is now at war. If the people–if the Queen–finds out that we have allowed…that man here…” well, she doesn’t really do into details, but it sounds to me like Black Panther is gonna get roasted on a spit! And that sounds nasty, because nobody likes to eat panther. It’s like shoe leather.

Black Panther tells her to stop being afraid of him and focus her attention on being afraid of EVERYBODY! So that’s a good piece of advice right there. Black Panther enters the guarded chamber, which looks quite cozy with its large fireplace and the table of wine. It’s Namor, whom I DO NOT KNOW, but he looks like a weird vampire elf, and I don’t like that one bit.

Black Panther lays down the ground rules: 1) don’t talk to anyone but him, 2) don’t let anyone see you, 3) don’t go anywhere, 4) don’t do anything. Cool?

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

5) turn the hot tub OFF when you’re not using it, 6) keep the DVD shelf arranged in order of color…

Namor smugly attempts to regain a semblance of the upper hand and reminds Black Panther that both of them are part of the secret Illuminati gang of spandex tights and colorful gems. Remember when you walked out of the meeting. Well, are you going to admit you were wrong? Or are you just a desperate little minx these days? Me-ow.

Black Panther doesn’t answer and tells him to shake a leg, it’s time to meet with the others. Oh, and one more thing: you’re a dead man once I get everything I need from you. Capisce?

Remember how Issue #1 (YES, I’M LINKING TO IT AGAIN) started with Reed Richards talking in a dark room about accepting that everyone dies? It repeats again, and it’s revealed that he’s talking to the rest of his Super Illuminati Bros. team. While he accepts that everything dies, he will not tolerate an unnatural acceleration to that end. Capisce?

This is why T’Challa Black Panther Jones assembled everyone here today. So grab your coffee and doughnuts NOW and sit back down, you lollygagger, because the unnatural acceleration to death is happening as we speak.

Tony Stark all but BOOOs this buzzkill.

Doctor Strange speaks up and asks Black Panther what makes THIS particular cataclysmic event different from the OTHER seven million cataclysmic events that he didn’t want to attend. Not even to make a quick, fashionable appearance! Black Panther tells Strange that his people are dying so he cares more now. Namor interrupts this reunion to hover his own personal gem in his hand in front of everyone. “There are precautions that need to be taken. Prove yourselves.”

Kiss-ass Captain America and Reed Richards agree, probably because they want to flaunt their own gem-having statuses. “Stephen… Tony…” Cap asks from the other side of the table, “Where are your Infinity Gems?”

Strange says that his sealed tightly in an alternate universe box and charmed with cherub kisses and siren orgasms. Stark says his is balled up in his stinky sock drawer at home; his voice, face, and knowledge of his own name is quite enough for all of them! “I’m pretty anxious to find out what’s put the fear of God into the two smartest people I know,” he arches an eyebrow.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

If you could all please direct your attention to the BE-DOOP cube, it will take all your questions from here.

The members of the Blowjob Alliance sound off one by one: Tony Stark, Black Bolt, Reed Richards, Stephen Strange, T’Challa, Namor, Steve Rogers. As usually, Captain America is confused and needs Reed Richards to tell us what happened to T’Challa.

It’s like this, yo: this dot here is the big bang, and this dot here is the heat death of the universe. We’re somewhere in between! Here, let me put another dot…there we go.

Now there are multiple universes, right? So let’s put a bunch of dots.

However, they all meet at the same end, right? So let’s make it all converge to one dot.

So what’s the problem? THIS universe *points to dot* died early. So now the real endpoint has been contracted backward. So everything is going to die sooner? Hey, Cap, you listening? Stop drooling.

Also, that universe dying causes two other universes to kind of bang into each other. Like a highway collision! Or a couple of young lovebirds fuckin’. Anyway, this caused those universes to destroy each other, which contracted the endpoint back even further, causing more calamity with other universes, and so on and so forth! That’s what T’Challa saw, an Earth colliding with another Earth in the midst of it all.

“A multiversal apocalyptic death scenario…sure, I’d say it’s a situation that needs handling,” Tony Stark mutters unhelpfully. Captain America still doesn’t understand, because he’s really dumb and there’s nothing that anyone can do about that.

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

We’re looking for SOLUTIONS here, Stark. Not MORE PROBLEMS. Who invited you again?

Reed Richards shows a hologram of the flux-capacitor device that this black and white lady, henceforward known as the Black Swan, had in her possession. The device AND the trigger mechanism are both in Reed’s hands! So all we have to do is blow shit up? Yes, Captain America, you have a question? Please refer to the Cube.

Captain America halts the conversation in its path and diplomatically advises that they should all learn as much as they can about the next event, and then figure out a way to win when the time comes! Sounds like he doesn’t want to deal with it right now. Sounds like he has a roast in the oven.

Richards implores the room that there’s no time to wait like that. He goes back to his boring charts and graphs. Using the magic of physics and harmonics, they should be able to predict and detect a short period of harmonic alignment between two different Earths. Each incursion lasts eight hours, after which both Earths blow up to smithereenies and BOOM, everyone’s dead as shit and both universes are destroyed! OR, one Earth can be destroyed manually which will save the other Earth, and then both universes will be saved! The latter option sounds better, buuut I’m open to the first option as well!

In short, Captain “Explain Like I’m Five” America rubs two half-brain cells together. Something to the tune of “we’re in the middle of those eight hours, so let’s figure something out quick!” I hope no one has to use the bathroom! I’m looking at you, Namor. No toilet diving today.

Namor says what they’re all thinking though: there’s some hard decisions that will have to be made very soon. “The question you have to ask is, who here would kill to save their world?”

Before Captain America has a chance to answer (possibly with a “good gracious, not I!”), a low rumble shakes the room and cracks their meeting table. Shit, that’s not a good sign! The earth doesn’t just quake like that once in a while! Or does it? “We have a problem that demands a perfect solution,” Stark chimes in, “To find that, we need time, and we need to be able to work without tether, which means secrecy.” Sounds like Tony Stark’s gunning for some bathroom jack-off alone time. Once Namor is done in there, certainly.

Cap doesn’t like where Stark’s going with this. “I will not tolerate–I will not allow–any talk of the necessity of necessary evil.” the America Man says, standing upright broom-in-ass style to drive home the seriousness of his chastising. Don’t forget, gentleman, we have THE GEMS! THE PRECIOUS GEMS! THE GEMS ARE THE KEY! DIDN’T ANYONE THINK OF THE GEMS AT ALL?

Reed Richards ponders this unprecedented burst of inspiration from the team’s biggest dullard. “We would need all six gems to be sure.” With Professor Xavier decomposing in the next room as we speak, the Mind Gem is gone with him. No hope! No hope!

Namor scoffs at the preposterous notion. “We can use the five we have to find his– the stones want to be together.”

New Avengers (Vol. 3), Issue #2

We probably should wash it first. BE-DOOP!

BE-DOOP! A glove appears! Time to get those stones back! Gotta look for the thumb stone.

So a plan is in action. Stark, T’Challa, and Richards will work on constructing the magic multiverse collision early warning system, and Namor, Black Bolt, and Captain America will look for the Mind Gem. Doctor Strange can get us all coffee.

Cap gives everyone one last pep talk and they all go their separate ways.

Later, at the Temple I Think, Richards tells T’Challa that Stark is almost finished with the early warning system. Captain America and his crew are ready to go gem-hunting. “Well then, it appears everything’s going to work out fine…but we know better than that, don’t we?” T’Challa asks with his frowny brow furrowed. And because he’s everyone’s favorite party pooper, Richards says “Infinite worlds. Infinite outcomes. If this could easily be stopped…it should have been stopped. Which means there are two more likely possibilities…”

Either the problem is inherent in the universe’s design and can’t be stopped…

Or someone (or something) is actively pushing the universe toward that direction…

T’Challa asks what they can do if nothing they try works? At least in the righteous and good and honorable direction?

Then they all have to learn how to do the necessary evil kind of stuff instead. And Goody Two-Shoes Cap will be a hard sell on that one. That guy can’t even kill germs without praying to the Lord for forgiveness.

“We have to learn how to destroy a world.”

Final Thoughts

Stakes are high! It parallels the whole Ex Nihilo arc from Hickman’s Avengers World where the big bad gods were harming the universe by creating. Now the good guys have to save the universe by destroying.

As always, the second or third issue of a storyline seems to be its peak. After that, well…*fart*


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Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

Death Note, Vol. 1, Chapter 3 – “Family”

* Part 3 of 7 of Vol. 1 – “Boredom” *

Welcome to Manga Cum Loudly Presents: Death Note, Vol. 1, Chapter 3: “Family”! In the previous installment, there’s a super secret unknown detective guy named “L” who has taken on the case of the mysterious dead criminals. L bats 1000 on every case. He’s the best.

And he already knows Raito is located in the Kanto region of Japan. And since he is only known as “L”, Raito can’t murder him with pen and paper. This really sticks in Raito’s craw, and he vows to find this douchebag and kill him.

It all seems so very psychologically healthy.

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3
Written by: Tsugumi Ohba
Illustrated by: Takeshi Obata
“Family”

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

This chapter begins in the location of…a frightening, spiral tunnel of dead trees and skeleton pals? It must be other Shinigami, gossiping around the water cooler about that dumbfuck Ryuuku losing his Death Note and having it become instantaneously retrieved by the worst human on Earth who could have found it.

So now Ryuuku has to wait until the human dies OR the notebook gets filled up completely before he gets it back. And, as we all know, Raito writes in teeny, tiny, feminine scrawl. It’ll take decades.

Rumor has it, though, that Ryuuku has two notebooks. Plus, this guy wouldn’t be one to “accidentally” lose Death Note. This smooth operator probably did this on purpose.

Back in Raito’s homestead, they sit in silence. Ryuuku stares at the lad with reverent fixation. Raito doesn’t feel like doing anything about his situation just yet; he’s going to wait and see what the police come up with first.

“All you hear about these days is talk about L and Kira. I can’t escape it,” he mumbles, perhaps a little bit proud of his notoriety. He thumbs through a couple magazines that all claim that L and Kira are fictitious entities. Merely inventions of the police in order to scheme their way through assassinating political enemies. Yada yada yada. Raito’s just gonna take it easy and let it play out.

“‘Take it easy’?” mocks Ryuuku, “For somebody who’s got the entire world’s police force hunting for him, you sure have some confidence.”

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

If there’s one thing a Shinigami knows… *sunglasses* …it’s confidence, Jack.

Confidence! That’s the ticket. Confidence is what Raito’s got in spades, son. Confidence is why he knows he can fight back if the authorities start closing in on him. Fisticuffs! That’ll be a sight to see: Chapter 48, Raito flailing his limbs at the police in between breaths into his inhaler.

The knob on Raito’s bedroom door starts rattling. “Raito, why’d you lock the door?” asks his cloying, overly-happy sister. I think. The sound of the locked door rattling displays the following onomatopoeic cadence: KACHA KACHA KACHA! My favorite dance.

Raito panics. “Oh, Sayu. What is it?” he scrambles to hide his Little Black Book, a real Nixon’s Enemies List. “Help me with my homework!” she says. Whines, possibly. When the door is unlocked and Sayu makes her appearance, she looks annoying. She wears leggings and a frilly hip-level dress. “Quadratic equations!” she chirps. Raito accommodates. Ryuuku tells him to be careful. “If a human touches the Death Note, they can see me!”

Ha! That complicates things, doesn’t it! Looks like you need to find a fantastic hiding spot for your Book of Grim Death, poopypants. Might I suggest your cavernous butthole?

Raito smirks amusedly at the Shinigami, wondering why this important kernel of knowledge waited until now to make itself known. Sayu is being Mrs. Snoopy and prowling around Raito’s room.

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

Oh my, these ladies are doing unspeakable acts with sea creatures!

She happily discovers some porn on the floor. “So that’s why you locked the door! Any dirty pictures?” she interrogates with rapt attention. No way, sis! Gross! Raito is Japan’s most persisting incel and you know it! “I was taking a look at the article on L and Kira,” he claims, concealing his little teenage erection.

Sayu believes the story. After all, Raito has spoken on numerous occasions of his ambitions to become a police detective someday. Even Ryuuku starts to get nervous about this display of dishonest confidence. “But how long does he think this can last?” the smiling death fairy asks himself, “What’s he thinking?”

Elsewhere, the man know as L ruminates over his thrilling encounter with Kira. He plays back his recorded conversation with Mr. Death Note murderer, wondering aloud why, exactly, Kira wasn’t able to kill him. What’s the secret? What’s the angle? What’s the scoop? What’s the biz? What’s the skinny?

This L cat looks like a teenager too, honestly. Long, greasy hair. A t-shirt. Baggy jeans. “Did he just not try because I’m not a criminal? No…in that situation he definitely must have tried to kill me. So it must have been because he didn’t know what I look like.”

Wrong wrong wrong wrong WRONG! He didn’t know your name, dingus! Haven’t you been reading this story?

Trenchcoat Man comes in on the laptop screen. Watari, L’s only contact. “The investigator’s report is about to begin,” he informs this disheveled L of a possible child. “Good, patch me through,” instructs L. He’s one accidental “Display Video” button away from revealing his super-secret identity. He should be wearing a bag over his head.

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

In other news: rain is wet!

The VICIOUS CRIMINAL SERIAL MURDERS SPECIAL INVESTIGATIVE FORCE (seriously, that’s the name of the department) briefs L on what’s what. It’s nothing groundbreaking.

OK, here’s some business: all the deaths occurred between 4pm and 2am, Monday through Friday, Japan time. Oooooh, a daily 10-hour window? That really narrows it down.

On weekends and holidays, there’s no consistent pattern.

Cool, bro. Not helpful. What else you all got? Sparky! You’re up!

The department has received 3029 calls from the general public. Most of them were inquiries about the legitimacy of the L broadcast, the legitimacy of L, the legitimacy of Kira. In short, the general public thinks this all a stupid, limp-dicked hoax.

14 calls were by individuals with claims that they are close personal friends with L or Kira. Butt buddies, if you will. None of them are credible.

21 people claim they ARE Kira! They’re looking into that.

Cool, bro! Not helpful! Still not helpful! What are y’all doing all day, daydreaming about getting that Marilyn Manson rib-removal surgery? Who’s got something useful to say?

Matsuda might. This guy stands up and gives his opinion that Kira killing all the criminals has brought crime down tremendously. Good for him!

*crickets*

OK, end transmission! BUT WAIT, ONE MORE THING! L has something to say, specifically to the Victims Unit, the Media Unit, and the Internet Unit. “I’d like you to carefully examine how the Japanese media reported information on these victims. I need to know whether or not images of the perpetrators were shown. Thank you for your cooperation.”

End transmission! What a big garbage bag of nothing. The Director of Murder Affairs, or whatever, tells his people to either “keep working or go home and rest up”, which sounds like a spineless display of leadership to me. Keep working! Or don’t! It doesn’t matter to me, I get paid either way!

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

Hey, wait a minute, I think you’re onto something here, sir!

The Director of Murdery Murders leaves the building and starts heading home, but this Matsuda guy catches up with him. “The announcement I made…’crime is falling’. If you think about it, everyone already knew. Do you think I should have kept it quiet?”

Director Spielberg tells him not to be ridiculous! All opinions are worth expressing, even the stupid ones! Just don’t…don’t, like, be TOO enthusiastic…like…outwardly, you know?

MEANWHILE, Raito is being quite the helpful, yet porn-addicted, older brother. He seems to be helping Sayu with her homework with poise and grace. Much like Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis! If you don’t get that reference, you need to watch more Seinfeld and read less fucking manga.

The doorbell rings. “Looks like Dad got home early,” Sayu observes. I don’t know about you, but when I come home from work I’m not ringing the goddamn doorbell to my own house.

“You’re back?” asks Raito.
“Yeah, I’m back,” answers his father.

His father is the Director! Oh snap, yo!

The family eats their evening meal while Ryuuku leers over them like an even more autistic Edward Scissorhands.

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

Would you like to join us for dinner? We have plenty of black squid ink California rolls and Mountain Dew.

The family has a very boring family conversation that isn’t even worth transcribing. Even the manga fan who translated this shit from Japanese to English shouldn’t have bothered.

“Dad, you seem tired,” Raito observes.
“Yeah, I’m working on a tough case, that’s why. It’s like trying to catch a ghost,” he mumbles tiredly. Like a tired man trying to catch a ghost, he is!

They’ve got a breakthrough in the case, though! Bitches being killed between 4pm – 2am on Mondays through Fridays. It’s possible the perpetrator is a student.

The room goes silent.

“Let’s not talk about this at dinner time,” urges Raito’s seemingly 19-year-old mother, but Dad presses on. “Raito’s helped me on cases before,” he adds.

IT ALL MAKES SENSE! Well, the confidence part makes sense, according to Autistic Edward Scissorhands. Dad’s a police detective. Director of Only Murders in the Building! The plot thickens like so much sweet, sweet gravy.

After dinner, Raito excuses himself and tells his mother not to enter his room. He’ll be cleaning. Yeah, cleaning. Cleaning his testicles completely free of semen, that is.

Mother is suspicious. She cleans Raito’s room EVERYDAY after dinner! Curious.

“Looks like my big brother’s growing up!” exclaims Sayu with misguided admiration.

Raito looks like he’s seen a ghost! That ghost his dad’s been chasing. Ryuuku eats this up. “Well, well, not only do they know you’re in Kanto, but they also know you’re a student.”

Death Note, Vol. 1, Ch. 3

Eat shit, Pops. I’m killing you next. You and every other police detective on Earth, bro.

Don’t worry, Raito’s always one step ahead…after he finds himself three steps behind! Confidence. Time to up his game. He rereads the Death Note rules to Ryuuku. The whole thing about not writing the cause of death within 40 seconds means it’ll be a heart attack, but writing the cause of death within 6 minutes and 40 seconds means it’s be whatever you want it to be: drowning in ketchup, masturbation fiasco, prolapsed anus, launched into space, choking on a rat! The possibilities are endless!

Nah, he gets boring with it instead. It’ll still be “heart attack”, but now he can add some conditions to throw everyone off the scent. Now people are dropping every hour on the hour, like clockwork. That shoots all sorts of Swiss cheese holes right through the student theory. Everyone at the VICIOUS CRIMINAL SERIAL MURDERS SPECIAL INVESTIGATIVE FORCE (or the catchy acronym “VCSMSIF”) is up in arms over this, but not L. This L fella tells everyone to cool their jets. “He’s trying to tell us…he can kill whenever he wants,” exclaims L over the laptop.

“He’s challenging me directly…” thinks L, the disheveled whipper-snapper.

At Casa de Raito, the little felon congratulates himself on throwing the feds off the scent. “However, there’s still another problem to face…you’re visible to whoever touches the Death Note right?” he asks the leather-clad death clown. That little tidbit of info scares Raito. He hasn’t taken the notebook out of his sight since, but he’s also incredibly nervous carrying it around town. One theft and it’s CHAOS. He’ll still need to keep it at home.

“If Kira isn’t careful…he’ll end up…KILLING HIS WHOLE FAMILY.”

*jovial end credits*

Final Thoughts

I hope Raito kills his whole family. Gonna have to kill Pops eventually! He’s like Walter White’s brother-in-law Hank, gonna have to go at some point.


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Black Country, New Road

Black Country, New Road
Look at these dorks. They look like kids in the marching band. They look like science majors. This was one of the first things that endeared me to Black Country, New Road: they look like regular, unassuming, young people. There’s never anything too flashy or overly artistic about their official band photos; they always look like friends hanging out in a park, or on a college campus, or in front a stage. Sometimes a couple of them are hugging, or a few have arms around someone else’s shoulders. They’re almost always smiling, not goofing off too hard or joking around or trying to look cool. The above photo looks like it was taken at grandma’s house. I find this simply wonderful.

Black Country, New Road is an ensemble cast of musicians from Cambridgeshire, England. The group formed a new band in 2018 after their old band splintered following a toxic band member’s history of sexual misconduct, and no one wanted to be associated with that asshole anymore. Isaac Wood (guitars/vocals), until February 2022, was their reluctant, fan-appointed frontman. He’s gone now! Mental health issues are a bitch. The remaining six members are continuing; they are Tyler Hyde on bass, Luke Mark on guitar, May Kershaw on keyboards + mallet percussion, Charlie Wayne on drums, Lewis Evans on saxophone + various other wind instruments, and Georgia Ellery on violin/mandolin/cello. They all agreed to split vocal duties following Wood’s departure, so now they have to get their chops up to speed.

As of this writing, they have two fantastic records under their belt. Now that Wood is gone, the band’s reinvention is simultaneously optimistic and unpredictable. Time will tell.

Black Country, New Road’s Bandcamp Page

JUMP TO:
(2021) For the first time
(2022) Ants from Up There

For the first time (2021) – Rating: 10/10
Click Here for the Full Album Review

Black Country, New Road - For the first time

The more I listen to this album, the more steadfast I remain in my position that it’s a modern masterpiece. I say that without hyperbole. Do you see that 10/10 up there? I ain’t foolin’ around.

I’ve already said quite a bit about For the first time, but an extra year of constant listening under my belt has allowed me to appreciate every nuance, every new element discovered each time I spin the record, and every member’s contribution to the project. From the bombastic klezmer “Instrumental” opener to the bombastic klezmer closer “Opus”, there’s almost nothing I can criticize…save for some of the slightly immature lyrics and namedropping, but it’s not enough for me to bring the score down. The music is too damn good.

At forty minutes with six tracks, the album’s structure is obviously a direct homage to Slint’s Spiderland, with the musical tension also comparable. However, Black Country, New Road has their own voice here. Between Isaac’s trembling baritone stream of consciousness ramblings and the post-rock progressions, this is definitely not the Steve Albini-style vocals and guitar-forward angularity of Slint’s effort. I will say this: BCNR are likely the first band since Slint to display mastery of the art of cathartic release.  I can’t think of many other bands in the last 30 years on the same level.

Isaac Wood brings most of the personality to the record, but the undisputed unsung hero of For the first time is Charlie Wayne on the drums. He knows when to maintain restraint (the constant, robotic cadence throughout “Science Fair”), he knows when to surprise the ear with elaborate drum fills (the whole “Instrumental” opener), and he knows when to hit that hi-hat pedal at the perfect moments (countless examples, but I like the ones on “Sunglasses”). Not to say that anyone else in the band is a slouch, but keep your eye (and ear) on Charlie Wayne. That kid is going places!

For my money, “Science Fair” and “Sunglasses” are perfect songs, from beginning to end. The former slowly builds tension the entire time. For six straight minutes! The progression of this track reminds me of the Swans krautrock exercises on their more recent albums like The Seer or To Be Kind. Chugging guitar, two passages of free jazz guitar/saxophone freak outs, immaculate crescendos, ominous keyboard loops, and a lot of Isaac Wood’s pained yelling. The best part is that the subject matter of the song is (from a big picture perspective) completely mundane and low-stakes. Just a pathetic, insecure, white guy point of view. But to be able to project the narrator’s real-time mental collapse about sometime mundane with such palpable, scary restlessness is genius. Genius! GENIUS!

Then “Sunglasses” is a just a beautiful piece of art during its entire 9:50 runtime. You get the first half, the slow fuzzed-guitar breakdown and pastoral post-rock whimsy as Wood contemplates his place in his family’s dynamic — in society, really. Then you get the second half, which weaves Wood’s untethered insecurities through the most catchy, atonal, ugly catharsis you’ll hear in your lifetime. Let’s not forget the album’s best line: “LEAVE KANYE OUT OF THIS!”

With a debut like this out the gate, with such a varied range of tones and emotions, it was impossible to know what was to come next. And that made the wait all the better.

Ants from Up There (2022) – Rating: 8/10
No Full Album Review Yet

Black Country, New Road - Ants from Up There

Don’t me wrong, an 8/10 is wonderful! An 8/10 is something to strive for! An 8/10 is nothing to sneeze at! And, in my gut, Ants from Up There is a solid 8/10!

I’ll cop to it. I had hyped myself up so hard for the second album that I think I was destined to be disappointed. HOWEVER, don’t let my personal tastes get in the way! This album is great! You’ll probably like it better than the debut, and that’s ok. I don’t, and that’s ok too. Two main reasons for my opinion: 1) there are very little, if any, moments of the kind of ugly catharsis that gives me that “oh wow” reaction, and 2) there’s a lot of filler.

Let’s start with the first point! Free jazz build-ups like the bridge in “Science Fair”? Sardonic, even mocking, saxophone responses in “Sunglasses”? Not here. All the catharsis is pretty. That first time the band revs up in “Chaos Space Marine”, with the fluttery flutes and Wood’s peak vocals (“So I’m leaving this body/And I’m never coming home again, yeah…“), the whole reason that the band has now been compared to Arcade Fire, is probably the best moment in the entirety of Ants from Up There. Those surprising, dynamic upper-register sax and piano phrases in “Haldern”? Absolutely exquisite! The last two slippery minutes of “Bread Song”;  the pathetically crushing romanticism of “Concorde” conveyed in one flawlessly delivered line: “I was made to love you/Can’t you tell?“; the final crashing denouement of “Basketball Shoes”. Hell, the entire seven minutes of “The Place Where He Inserted the Blade”, an ode to the vulnerability of a new relationship with a lot of baggage attached, is breathtaking. The instruments are woven together with the kind of positive energy that paints an immaculate, picturesque, sunny day. The vocal performances from Wood are emotive and run an impossibly genuine, wide range of feelings. From top down, this song is the album’s peak! …but, while this cherubic indie rock with a somber, almost sinister side is perfect on paper, I can only find myself admiring it from an analytical point of view. It just doesn’t hit me in that sweet spot.

The second reason for my slight disappointment? Filler. This album is almost twenty minutes longer than For the first time and it shows. Not bereft of musical ideas by a long shot, but many tracks meander or feel tacked on (I’m looking at you “Mark’s Theme), showcasing lulls that just weren’t present in the debut. The first album didn’t waste a minute; the second album is not as innocent. “Concorde” is a lovely song, but you can trim almost two minutes. “Good Will Hunting” is a middle-of-the-road offering, and while I like the cool buzzing synth imagery of, perhaps, the burning starship traversing the Milky Way, and the humor in the “Billie Eilish-style” refrain, nothing else stands out as particularly notable. “Snow Globes” is entirely disposable, I’m sorry. Even that intro track feels weak and pointless, like it was hastily recorded at the end of their sessions to get something to lead into “Chaos Space Marine”.

The positives overwhelmingly outweigh the negatives. I don’t think Isaac Wood peaked at all with this release, not even close. He had the potential to single-handedly define an entire generation of young musicians with his one-of-a-kind poetry and unmatched vocal performance. But, that’s not the path he wanted for himself. I hear he works in a cake shop now, keeping it real, working on maintaining a healthy mental wellbeing, and the world doesn’t need him to tough it out in the music business just to entertain dumbasses like me. I wish him the best.


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Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3 – “A Legacy Reborn”

* Part 3 of 12 of the Superman: Birthright limited series *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Superman: Birthright, Issue #3 – “A Legacy Reborn”! In the previous installment, Clark Kent does a pretty poor job of keeping Kobe Asuru safe and he gets knifed in the gut. Abena is pissed, but Clark thinks he did the Ghuri a great service! Oh well.

Clark Kent goes home to his parents’ farm. After a small how-do-you-do, he tears up the barn to find his famous crashing-on-Earth-as-a-baby space pod. There he finds the large piece of fabric with the trademarked Superman logo on it (all rights reserved). He asks his mom to sew him a costume.

And the rest is history!

But no, we still have ten issues to read.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3 [November, 2003]
Written by: Mark Waid
“A Legacy Reborn”

Superman: Birthright: Issue #3

I think it’s nice that Clark’s mom sewed a costume for him at Age 25. If the guy’s so fucking super, you would think he’d be able to handle this task himself. Women’s work, I suppose, right Clark?

“It’s not like I can just take this project to a tailor. No… I think we’re wise keeping this all to ourselves,” muses Clark as he and his mom walk down the farm. A guy in the shadows is listening to all this. There’s always a Guy in the Shadows, isn’t there? Even when there really shouldn’t be any shadows to speak of.

Clark is positively excited that this is all coming together! Pants are moist with anticipation! He’s even got DRAWINGS and SKETCHES laid out on the kitchen table for the costume design and colors! And that dastardly Guy in the Shadows, he’s peeking in on this part too.

Never fret, dearest readers, the guy lurking is only Jon Kent the Chainsmoker. There’s a look of sadness in his eyes as he peers at his family in secret. He takes a trip to Clark’s childhood bedroom, which looks untouched since the day his boy left home…

There’s also a large hole in the ceiling, no doubt a relic of one of Clark’s early-aged misadventures.

“Son,” Jon comes back downstairs and tells his beefy hunk ‘o junior that he needs help with a few farm related farm chores. Clark is all yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah just a second pops.

Clark and Martha boot up Clark’s endlessly-charged Kryptonian iPad to view a picture of a few superheroey-types for reference. They look stupid in their costumes. Perfect!

Clark is currently wearing a “got milk?” shirt, lmfao.

They both start oohing and aahing and strokin’ and fawnin’ over all these really hot Kryptonian scientists and warriors. “They wanted me to carry on for them here…like it’s my calling, my birthright.” Ha, sounds familiar. Maybe they should make a limited series about that. Ooops! I completely forgot about Dad! He’s probably upset that I forgot all about him and his stupid farm work.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Sorry, Pops! The last two minutes and fifteen seconds really got away from me!

“Pretty soon, you can go play-acting in your little costume. That’s great,” Jon huffs as he walks on through.

It’s like, look dad. You should be happy I even bothered to come back. I was having way more fun in Ghana getting shot at.

Martha gives Clark a look like “BRORRT”, like “BZZZRT”, like the artist doesn’t know how to draw eyes or faces or noses or expressions.

Later that evening, Martha confronts her passive aggressive husband about his weird, closed-off behavior ever since THE LIGHT OF THEIR LIVES came home.

“Got no axe to grind. Don’t see the problem,” Jon grunts with a frown and tries to continue with his bedtime routine of bottling up emotions until he’s killing cows with his shotgun in a murderous rage.

Now’s not the time to shut down, sir. Clark is home and he’s at a very crucial turning point! Maybe talk to him and bring him back down to reality. Make him see that he’s still just like us!

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? He’s not.”

Martha freaks out at this and tells him to hush his goddamned mouth.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Whoops! Heh heh, super hearing! Look on the bright side, at least the bed springs aren’t squeaking.

The next morning, Martha talks about an early school memory where a science teacher posited the notion of alien life. The whole class laughed and laughed at this. Even Martha! Well, ever since Clark’s ship crashed, she wishes she could go back in time and apologize to that teacher. “Hardest secret I ever had to keep, Clark.”

Clark is barely listening. He’s snooping around the barn. “Found out last year that I could focus my vision like a microscope, and it’s been a while since I’ve examined the rocket.”

Martha starts guilting the lad about being away so long and visiting so infrequently. It’s not Clark’s fault that his dad doesn’t like reading emails! The old man can barely work a calculator. And not even one of those TI-83 Plus graphing calculators! Like, the solar powered ones that ain’t need no batt’ries.

“You’d think someone who didn’t get along with his own father would be a little warmer to his son,” Clark grumbles as he shoots eyeball lasers at a shoe for some reason. What he should know about Jon’s dad, Matthew Kent, is that he was a “spiteful, needy man who worked hard to make Jonathan feel stupid and insecure.” And how dare you entertain the idea that Jon feels any differently toward you now than he ever has before? Now go to your room, young man, or you’ll get such a spankin’.

So what’s up Dad’s butt? Martha doesn’t really know.

Jon walks into the barn and they’re both like “HA HA WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT YOU! Hehe, not like that, it’s all good! Hey, wanna see the progress on the costume?

Jon’s like “nah.”

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon/Little Boy Blue and the man in the moon…

Martha and Clark leave the barn to Jon. When they’re out of sight, Jonny Boy picks up a sledge hammer and starts bashing the rocket. Just wailing on it for about nine panels. It doesn’t scratch the thing one bit, but wooden pieces of the barn start splintering and breaking, effectively exposing the outside.

“Uh oh…” Jon thinks before the rocket blasts the fuck off outta there, punching itself through the barn’s framework and turning what was left of the structure into kindling.

Next thing Jon knows, he’s up in the air, safe from the harm of the collapsing barn. A frazzled, shirtless Clark holds his dad about 80 feet in the air. “What on Earth was that about?” Clark demands. Guess who has leverage here? Literally. Don’t anger the kid, he’ll drop you like a rock.

“No good reason,” Jon gibbers, referring to his insane outburst, “Pretty damn fool thing to do. Won’t happen again.” The dude is sweating bullets.

It dawns on Clark that he’s never actually taken his dad up to the sky before. He didn’t think Jon ever wanted to, but Clark was wrong about that. “Fly? Why wouldn’t I [want to]? Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought, huh? Don’t feel bad, Clark, that’s my fault…and now I’m paying for it.”

Clark starts taking the man back down to the ground, all the while Jon moans about not being a real dad and how big of a failure he is. He tried, OH DID HE TRY! But it was no use! Things are weird! Waaaahhh!! “A dad’s job is to give to his son. Pass along what he knows… and enough of who he is to matter. That’s their bond. And if ours was that strong, seven years apart wouldn’t wipe it out.”

Clark tries to start with a big “aww hell no, pops”, but Jon cuts him off again with another pile of speech balloons. Jon’s been quiet because he didn’t want to believe shit is broken between them! But when you, YOU, *shakes angry finger at his degenerate son*, you little snake, you want to CHANGE YOUR NAME? YOU WANT A NEW IDENTITY? What the fuck, kid??

This old man is reminded that he, too, left the house at 18. He, too, spent time as a young man trying to find his place in the world. He, too, embraced a journey to find a sense of self rather than let others decide who he was.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Who gives a shit about your courage, son? I certainly don’t! I’m a bad dad! Waaaahhhhhh!!!

So we’re a lot alike! Remember when you said that I wasn’t like you? No, I fucking HEARD you say it while I was jacking off 70 yards away from the house at 1am. Don’t try to backpedal on that one, Dad.

ANYWAY, Clark doesn’t want to find a new identity, per se. He doesn’t want to stop being Clark Kent. He just wants to find out what else can be incorporated into the whole Clark Kent package! And if that means sexy blue tights, then it means sexy blue tights.

And that also means NO MASK. “If I want people to trust me, they’ll have to be able to see my face.”

No mask?

NO MASK.

So, you’re anti-mask?

YES.

Son, you should wear a mask to protect yourself and others.

NO MASKS. I’M AN AMERICAN AND I HAVE THE FREEDOM TO REJECT THE TYRANNY OF THE MASK.

Ok then. I guess we have to figure out how to hide your real identity then if you won’t wear a mask. You’re making this hard for yourself.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Assless chaps are off the table, then.

First of all, no t-shirts. I can see your 40-pack abs. Every woman on the street will be drooling. Put on this sweater.

Next, let’s brush your hair. Can’t have a disheveled, homeless-ass-looking superhero.

OK, say something out loud…yuck, your voice sucks. Bring it up a notch and speak a little softer, you’re scaring the kids.

Slouch a little bit more, you’re standing up too straight. You look like some military asshole. Put on this suit jacket. Now you look like Don Draper! What do you think?

…

Not quite. Also, your eyes are WAAAYY too blue. You look like a creepy alien. Here, put on these nerd glasses. There, now your eyes are less… well, it looks better.

Superman: Birthright, Issue #3

Nice look, Four-Eyes. Did your mom dress you?

No one will ever guess that the tall, buff, dark-haired, blue-eyed man with the glasses is Superman! Very camouflaged. Incognito as all get-out.

Martha advises him to work on being a boring white guy, which means Clark really doesn’t have to change too much about himself. No one will think twice.

One last thing: working as a reporter? That’s just asking for trouble. You’ll be hanging with piranhas for eight hours a day. You’ll be around a bunch of people whose job it is to expose the truth. Do you think that’s wise, Clarky old boy?

YES! AND NO MASKS!

Fair enough. Now, hanging around a small town is no place for a guy like Clark. He has to be anonymous, and what better place to be anonymous then a large city? New York! Los Angeles! Even Gotham, ha ha! Where do you want to go?

No better place than a fake city like Metropolis!

Final Thoughts

I’m glad that this story started picking up a little bit. I was afraid Clark was going to be hopping around to different exotic locales just to accidentally screw things up for an endless cavalcade of innocent civilians.

I also like seeing more of the human aspect of Superman. He always comes across to me as some dimwit who brute-forces his way through every problem, but it’s nice to remember that he had a somewhat mundane upbringing. I’d like to see a lot more of the Smallville years someday.


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