JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4 – “Invaders from Mars”

* Part 4 of 4 of the New World Order storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4 – “Invaders from Mars”! In the previous installment, the Hyperclan thinks the Justice League is dead when, in fact, exactly zero of them are actually dead. The most useful hero ends up being Batman even though he doesn’t have any super abilities except super-crying about his dead parents. In the end, the Hyperclan gets semi-thwarted. In the actual end, the Hyperclan hails seventy other members from out of secret invisible space orbital transmitters. The extended Hyperclan will level all of Earth’s major cities, including Tokyo, London, Pompeii, and Sim City.

The Justice League has aces up their sleeves though! Exactly what that is…? Er…

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4 [April, 1997]
Written by: Grant Morrison

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4

As members of the Hyperclan leer over Superman, the caped crusader wonders why the kryptonite hasn’t killed him yet. As loyal readers will recall, Superman is strapped to a gurney with an orb containing kryptonite hovering over his face. Superman can sense chaos in Earth’s midst. The invasion fleet of the Hyperclan is landing in, among other high-profile cities, Washington, Paris, Singapore, Tokyo, London, and Fake-Ass Metropolis. The airwaves are jammed with cries for help! The public needs their Super Man!

The kryptonite, though. Oh, god damn this kryptonite! It feels like someone is pressing a hot iron against Superman’s dick. Wanna know how Superman gets out of his predicament? He mind-over-matters it. As in, he starts thinking “hey, there’s no kryptonite here at all!” and then it doesn’t feel like there is any kryptonite there at all! Then he busts out of his restraints looking positively feral and a little hungry.

Superman, realizing these Hyperclan douchebags are Martians, wonders why there are more Martians running around in the first place. J’onn was supposed to be the Last of the Martians. What gives?

He tries to light things on fire because fire is the weakness of Martians, apparently. They’re like Frankenstein’s Monster without the neck bolts. And now that Superman has escaped, the Hyperclan really needs to keep his heat vision away from the Flower of Wrath. I’ve only mentioned the Flower of Wrath once before, but it sounded so stupid that I didn’t bring it up ever again! I guess heat is bad for the flower, too. Let’s keep that flower nice and cool like Miles Davis (who wasn’t nice, as it turned out).

Primaid is the white and blue woman who thinks they can still beat the Justice League, but Armek is the muscle-y robot guy who doesn’t agree. This is because Armek is actually Martian Manhunter, who used his superpower of… mimicry?… to deceive! “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize this city you’ve unearthed?” he says with sassy crossed arms. “Z’onn Z’orr, the most infamous name in Martian history…”

Primaid calls Martian Manhunter a traitor. He owns it.

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4

Look in a mirror, lady. No really, look in a mirror. Your eyes look bloodshot!

Meanwhile, in the Gobi Desert, the real Armek is talking to ZüM about the nerve of some of these Martians doing rude identity thievery. He’ll kill him! He was going to kill him anyway, but now he’ll double kill him!

Superman has the worst hair in the universe as he challenges Protex to a fair fight. No heat vision. No brass knuckles. Just fisticuffs at dawn. Protex’s eyes shine with maniacal redness! “YOU can be as fair as you like, Superman… I’LL stick to my own rules!”

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4

lol

I’m like, okay, then use the fucking heat vision. But Superman is instead taken aback like an old priggy prude and gets enveloped by Protex’s new form: some sort of blobby white thing.

“We Martians have complete control over our molecular structures,” Protex explains to Superman, who is helpless against this newest development. Protex penetrates Superman’s blood vessels! He enters his brain! He cooks and cleans and sews! “Now to finish what we started millennia ago,” says Primaid as they cause a mysterious fissure in the earth.

Martian Manhunter clocks Primaid in the mug. He makes fun of the pale Martians. She makes fun of the green Martians. It’s a real racist good time. Martian Manhunter pulls a simple switch and deactivates the Flower of Wrath (it literally has a screen that says “FLOWER OF WRATH: DEACTIVATED”) Primaid gets killed, I think, before Protex swoops down over Martian Manhunter and gives him a big, long, boring soliloquy.

“Where are your friends now?…” Protex asks before he pops Martian Manhunter’s head off like a cork.

“Where we always were!” says Wonder Woman as she, the Flash, Aquaman, and Green Lantern strike poses. Big ol’ titties on this lady.

The Flash surrounds Armek with fiery candles and Green Lantern drops a projection of a 16-ton weight on his head.

Aquaman gives ZüM a big migraine by fucking with his brain’s basal ganglia. He can do that, you know.

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4

Talk dirty to me, Wonder Lady.

Primaid is still alive, but Wonder Woman wraps her up in rope and they look like they’re humping each other for a bit.

Protex says a LOT of words about the primitiveness of Earthlings and how it’s the Right Thing To Do to take over Earth for the good of the Earth, and other Earth-related nonsense.

“You want the Earth so much Protex – IT’S ALL YOURS!” Superman says as he throws Protex down the fissure created after the Flower of Wrath was deactivated.

That is as stupid as it sounds. You’re right.

Then they start beating each other up in the fissure. That’s also stupid. “They fear you and they hate you and you don’t even have the guts to admit you despise them in return!” Protex tells Superman, referring to the dumb losers of Earth. “You know in your heart they’re INFERIOR!”

Superman punches Protex further into the ground. “They believe in me, and in my heart I believe in them.”

Now that everyone has neutralized their respective fight partners, the Justice League, including Batman, reconvenes. “We can’t waste time,” Batman says, ever the downer. “The invasion fleet has already arrived on Earth and Martian mind control has been overridden by terror.”

They look around the Hyperclan base for equipment to use. There are cameras hooked up that were meant to broadcast their executions to the entire world, maybe they can use those to put on a puppet show? Superman flicks on the camera.

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #4

Looking a little drunk there, Superman.

“I know it’s difficult right now, but try not to panic,” he tells his captive audience as dozens of UFOs are literally destroying cities. “You must fight against the invaders. We’re on our way but we can’t reach everyone in time. It’s up to you to defend one another. They’re afraid of fire! Use fire against them! Stand firm. Right now, courage is all that can light this darkness.”

The dumb people of Earth get out their BIC lighters and make angry, determined faces. As cities burn down, Superman salutes the camera. “The Justice League of America won’t let you down!”

“They’re surrendering!” cries Green Lantern as death, destruction, and devastation makes waves across Earth. “We did it!”

In the aftermath, Martian Manhunter explains that he knew these buttfuckers were all Martians after he saw Z’onn Z’orr. He apologizes for endangering the Justice League, all of humanity, and a couple of gophers due to personal feelings. Superman is quick to forgive because he’s not very smart. “I’m more concerned about what we do now.”

“Martians are shapechangers, Superman,” Martian Mansplainer says. “We’re familiar with a wide range of mind control techniques. There are… methods. Punishments. You may not approve, but I must be the final arbiter.”

What Martian Manhunter suggests is waterboarding them with battery acid and then tickling their feet with a giant feather. I don’t see whether or not Superman approves of the giant feather.

Meanwhile, all the special, idyllic ecosystems that the Hyperclan created in impossible places, such as the Sahara Desert, are dying and withering away. As expected. Let this be a lesson! “Humankind has to be allowed to climb to its own destiny,” says Superman with such poignant gravity.

In the following weeks, the League created a new base on the moon. It’s about 560 stories tall and looks like a complete eyesore. It’s made out of only the strongest adamantium and mudhoney and no one can penetrate it, not even Superman! That’s right, they’re keeping him out!

I wish, at least.

EPILOGUE: “Bob Grey’s had another bad night. To tell the truth, he hasn’t really felt right since they let him out of the hospital, right after the Justice League stopped that alien invasion. He feels like he’s been lobotomized with a corkscrew. And then there’s the dreams… Bob won’t ever know that exactly 69 other people in countries all around the world are having the same strange dream night after night.”

Final Thoughts

Curious! It’s always a good sign when dozens of people share the same dream every night. It always bodes well for future events. I guess we’ll see if it matters at all in Issue #5! If I ever even get to it! You never know…


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The Martian by Andy Weir

The Book Bonfire Disclaimer: There will be spoilers. If you’re even remotely interested in this book and you haven’t read it, or if you’ll be mad if you accidentally read any possible spoilers about it, I’m going to chalk it up to “not my fucking problem”. You have been warned. Also, this is a feature about reading. You came here to read about books, so pictures in these posts will be scarce. Be an adult.

The Martian

Welcome back to the Book Bonfire, you Book Bonfirephiliacs! Today we tackle The Martian by Andy Weir, a gripping tale of heroism and survival on the big red rock we call *accidentally drops all notes into a sewer* … uhm… … MATT DAMON!

Note: I never watched the movie. I don’t know the first thing about this story. I just know that MATT DAMON!

Based on all the Internet crabapples, this is a book that you’ll either love or you’ll hate. If you like hard science fiction with dad jokes and very little attention to the mental and emotional breakdown that comes from being dangerously isolated on Mars for over a year, then you’ll love this book! I loved this book! If you like the exact opposite of everything I said, you’ll hate this book! I didn’t hate this book!

Now that we have that out of the way, I can see why the hard science aspect of the story can be off-putting to even the most stalwart of science fiction fans (the ones who like space operas and aliens with bumpy heads). I’ve read many hard science textbooks for college and that shit is dry as a bone, son. Based on my experience reading old white men’s words on stoichiometry, I can say with FANATIC PLEASURE that Weir makes it as interesting as possible. This is accomplished by writing his main character, Mark Watney, as an instantly relatable everyman. When I read the first ten pages I was starting to expect that Mark was going to be the only character in the whole novel. AU CONTRAIRE! A crazy cast of characters awaits. The NASA guy. The other NASA guy. The NASA lady. A rich mix of interchangeable nerds. They all exist as a plot forwarding catalyst. Here’s a thing that will save Mark! Oh, it won’t work! Here’s another thing that will save Mark, I hope it works! Rrrrrrggghhhh, edge of the seat suspense!

“You can’t kill me, Mars! I will drill a hole in your rocky surface and fuck you silly!”
– Mark Watney

Watney spends the entire book completely unfazed about being stuck on a planet with a death clock slowly ticking down. He reminds me of Deadpool, making jokes while almost dying. Except Deadpool can’t die. Perhaps Watney forgets this aspect of his humanness! While some readers were put off by his impossibly upbeat attitude, I found it charming and likeable. And usually I don’t find that kind of thing anything other than obnoxious, so Weir did a good job here. Hell, Watney was keeping the rest of his crew upbeat during the most trying of times. He’s just that kind of guy, you know? I could suspend my disbelief that, even on Mars, this cat kept his cheerful attitude. Better than succumbing to off-world depression, am I right? We’ve all been there.

I don’t know how accurate all the science is, but it seems plausible enough to me and I’m some sort of real-life smarty man engineer! There’s a lot (and I mean a lot) of descriptive nonsense about converting CO₂ to C + O₂ and then isolating H₂ and combining H₂ and O₂ to make H₂O, for one thing. There’s a lot of other chemical malarkey going on besides this, but I can dig it. Watney also spends an awful long time talking about growing potatoes on Mars using his own feces, which must be accurate. I’ve grown potatoes in my toilet and it works! Watney also fixes a lot of shit by taking apart shit and hammering the pieces onto other shit. I’m not mechanic, but this sounds like a hard thing to do on Mars. Watney’s a genius, though. He works for NASA!

“Watney’s the name, and botany’s the game! LOL!”
– Mark Watney

Most of the book follows the same formula of “let’s help Watney get back to Earth” from NASA personnel, and “I’m gonna try to not fuck up and die” from Watney, and I don’t find a thing wrong with it. Even though you know Watney’s going to stay alive through it all, it’s still satisfyingly suspenseful. Plus, those final pages where Hermes intercepts the MAV? I was so anxious that I shat all over my marital bed!

So that’s about it! Let’s move onto some hard-hitting discussion questions!

BOOK BONFIRE DISCUSSION QUESTIONS!

To what extent does Mark’s log serve as his companion? Do you think it’s implicit in the
narrative that maintaining a log keeps him sane?
Yes, so Mark Watney’s side of the story is told through his log entries. He primarily uses it to talk the reader through his staying-alive process and little else. As a plot device it does the job, but one needs must suspend his or her disbelief that Watney never uses the log as therapy to deal with the unimaginable isolation, loneliness, and fear of the very real possibility of death. Instead he makes jokes about titties and writes at length about potatoes.

“I’m living in My Own Private Idaho!”
– Mark Watney

I found a good explanation for this. Watney eventually realizes that he may really survive the whole ordeal, and that his personal log may be read by thousands. He mentions cleaning up some of the rougher edges of the log, which he may have already done for the reader. Perhaps he decided to remove all the entries where he whines hopelessly about being unfathomably cold, tripping on moon rocks, and watching so much Dukes of Hazzard that he wants to commit suicide all over the place.

Of course, it’s more likely that Andy Weir had no idea how to write that type of characterization. So it was all potatoes. And shut up, I know they aren’t moon rocks.

There’s no mention of Mark having a romantic relationship on Earth. Does that make it easier or harder to endure his isolation? How would the story be different if he had a partner back home?
I thought about this a lot. I have no idea what Watney actually looks like, but I would guess based on his ability to not immediately stuff his fucking face with all the available rations that he’s probably some noodle-armed 105-lb nerd. Did they ever mention his physical characteristics at all? I don’t remember. But I picture this very happy, very content, hopeless virgin with high self-esteem in his late-20s/early-30s who devoted his life to botany and fixing shit. He still lives with his parents, who live 20 minutes away from Cape Canaveral, and enjoys eating his mom’s cooking. He had a girlfriend once probably in 4th grade who chased him around the playground during recess for about two weeks before she got bored.

“This actually really sucks hard and I wish I could just have the courage to die.”
– Mark Watney

Mark Watney has no romantic relationship on Earth. Ironically, this makes it easier for him to endure his isolation because no one loves him anyway. The story would be different if he had a partner back home because he would miss him/her and would spend less time posting ASCII boobs to NASA Mission Control. Maybe.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Great book! Would read again someday! A good novel to embrace your geekiness. Everyone who hated it probably didn’t understand all the technical mumbo-jumbo about using encased plutonium pellets to heat up bathwater or fixing spacesuits with duct tape. Only the most intelligent of brain geniuses can parse such Mensa concepts.


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Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61 – “Carnage (Part 2)”

* Part 2 of 6 of the Carnage storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61 – “Carnage (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Spidey gets into a scuffle during a hostage situation at the local Brooklyn Museum of Commemorative Belt Buckles and Spurs and gets injured enough to need medical attention. Dr. Curt Connors is not a medical doctor, but he plays one in Ultimate Spider Man and he stitches the kid up. Curt Connors is having his own mutant-related problems, and Parker’s blood just might be the key…

I expect a whole issue of blood-letting. Issue #61 will be like a snuff film. Get the kids out of the room!

Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61 [September, 2004]
Written by: Brian Michael Bendis
“Carnage (Part 2)”

Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61

“Doctor Curt Connors, Eddie’s [Brock] college professor, in an attempt to regrow a missing limb using lizard DNA strands, accidentally turned himself into a lizard creature. Spider-Man saved Connors and in return, Connors offered Peter Parker his trust and friendship.”

I don’t remember ANY of that happening, but I also have dementia at 37 years old. And 6th stage fingernail cancer.

Peter Parker is going to be late for school because his hormonal teenage rumpus is sleeping in past 7:30am. Aunt May is about to slap him with a yardstick until she sees he’s sweating buckets in his bed. “Dnnn’feel well…” Peter moans while May feels his clammy forehead with her equally clammy hand. A fever! How exciting for a comic book storyline! “Guess all the supervillains will have to make do without me today…” Parker thinks as he lies in his bed dying. “Least there’s no big drama brewing…”

Speaking of big drama brewing, there’s some big drama brewing down at the ol’ university. It appears that Doctor Curt “Hypotenuse Fucker” Connors checked into the lab the previous night and never checked out. Burning the candle at both ends, eh? Heh heh heh, that’s our Connors!

Doctor Ben Reilly, another dude in a lab coat, discovered Connors asleep at a desk. Reilly looks around at the computers and microscopes that are just strewn about everywhere and decides to poke his eyes into the nearest microscope that happens to have a sample of Parker’s blood just flowing around. “Wow…” he says in a hushed whisper.

Connors suddenly wakes up going “XPTBXTPVEKBLUB”. He realizes where he is and clutches his head like he has the largest hangover this side of the Mississippi. “What- what was on the slide I was looking at?” Reilly asks. Here’s Connors’ answer: “No!!” It’s not a yes-or-no question, Dr. Stupid.

Reilly is astonished by the behavior of the blood, but Connors just keeps going “It’s nothing! It’s nothing!” and asks Reilly to swear that he’ll just drop it for now until Connors gets his head on straight. Reilly arches an eyebrow with suspicion, but honors Connors’ all-night marathoner.

Parker is on the couch watching bikini girls strut around on TV. He doesn’t get much time to flog his boner before the telephone rings. It’s Curt Connors, and he needs to meet and talk with Parker post-haste. He tells him he’s sick, and Connors returns with “YEAH BUT I NEED YOU NOW, SON” and asks if he can come over there. The last thing Parker wants is this smelly man over his house, so Parker, with his 108° fever, agrees to meet with Connors at a neutral location

Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61

Quit coughing on my mocha latte, kid.

Parker is inches from death as he talks to Connors at the coffee shop about the blood. Parker immediately looks nervous and miffed, but Connors assures the kid that he hasn’t done anything with it. He just looked at it under the microscope is all. And he tasted a little bit of it, that’s it. Now he wants to bite your neck! Ha ha ha! Just kidding! *cleans Parker’s neck with a napkin*

“Am I okay?” Parker asks.

“What?” Connors replies.

“Am I-?”

“What?”

“Am I dying?”

What? Ha! No, it’s not like that. It’s not like you have 6th stage fingernail cancer or anything. No no no, this is good news! Parker’s DNA sequences are superhuman! “How did you get your powers again?” Connors whispers. Parker isn’t really in the mood to get into that right now, so Connors moves on and shows some readouts of a normal DNA strand vs. Parker’s DNA strand. The proteins are like mega-proteins! Giga-proteins! “This is an amazing scientific find,” Connors smiles. It could be a breakthrough in genetics!

Parker starts to get a little nervous, but figures he can trust Connors on this subject. After all, Parker had wanted to look into how the spider bite has altered his DNA. “And, to be honest, part of me was scared about what I would find.”

HERE COMES THE BOMBSHELL! Connors wants to run experiments! *jazz hands*

Parker gives Connors the ol’ “go fuck yourself” face.

…on the blood sample, of course. He’s not looking to probe the kid’s butthole or anything. Connors talks about how researching his DNA could lead to breakthroughs in curing diseases and the like. Plus, it might even help him cure his own Lizard DNA problem. So, c’mon kid. Make with the blessing.

“How would you explain to people where you got the DNA from?”

“Lab accident,” says Connors. “Happens all the time.”

So he requests Parker’s permission and offers a split down the middle on all money, rewards, recognition, and accolades. “And this could take years, Peter, years and years. You might very well be one of my students at the university by the time anything comes of anything. But, we have to try. It’s almost our responsibility.”

There’s the magic R-word. Parker offers up a wan, sickly smile and grants Connors permission.

Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61

Get one of those superhero catheters. Captain America never leaves home without one!

Two months later, Parker is spry and beating up rogue thugs again with his puny little fists. He’s in the subway station. One of the guys is the Punisher, whom Spidey thwarts by snatching those guns out of his hands. But the other guy is someone unknown in a purple suit, and he tried to rob a bank or something and that’s why Punisher is trying to murder the doofus. Spidey’s not going to let this crazy asshole gun down people in public. Yada yada yada.

“Hey, can we call a time-out,” Spider-Man says to Punisher. “I really have to go to the bathroom.”

Punisher just looks at him with gritted teeth. Then, in a surge of adrenaline that can only be obtained by a teenager in dire need of a toilet, Spidey kicks the Punisher right in the ribs and sends him flying across the room. He’s all thwipped in the face and is duly rendered incapacitated, verily. The purple-suited bank robber thanks Spidey and offers him $20,000 to help swing him out of the subway station. Parker meets him halfway and webs him all up at the entrance for the cops to find. “Hey, I almost did that one right. Coulda used that money, though… oh well.”

Parker had sustained a laceration on his back during the fight, so he visits Connors to get stitched up again. Everyone’s cool, Parker’s in good shape, Connors got a grant for the year, things are coming up Milhouse! Good thing nothing at all nefarious is going to happen very, very soon!

Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #61

Erotic!

Parker wants to see Connors’ research so far, but Connors gets shifty and deflects. It’s all good, bro. He’ll come by another time! Bye, friendo! *jumps out of window, falls to his death*

Connors gets a little frowny face on him before he keycards his way into the lab. Ben Reilly is there watching a tank.

“Hey,” says Connors.

“Hey…” responds Reilly.

“I gotta get outta here.”

“Thought you were already gone.”

“Got distracted. How’s it going?”

Here’s how it’s going: the two are incubating some terrifying-looking X-Files Flukeman creature in a tube full of green liquid. And they do an extreme closeup of the thing and it shows the same DNA sequence patterns as Parker’s! Who woulda thunk it?!

And here I am sitting on my ass reading comic books. Why don’t I ever get to incubate some sort of monster in a lab? Really makes me wonder why I’m even living this life right now.

Final Thoughts

Now I’ve depressed myself. I’m going to go eat an entire family-size bag of mozzarella cheese and watch Designing Women.


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I’m So Tired

me lol

I went to bed at 7:30pm last night. Well, it was last night as of the day I’m writing this. I’m sure this post won’t actually go up for a few months because I’ve been a lazy asshole about updating the blog. For all I know, the actual last night probably showed me staying up until 4am completely shitty hyper on crushed up amphetamines, but last night (keep up, please) I went to bed at 7:30pm.

I hate going to bed early. My entire life revolves around looking forward to my evenings when everyone is asleep and I can do all my introverted nerd activities in peace, so when I fall asleep before my kids do it makes me rather fucking grumpy. Like this: *grump*

My day at work is considerably light today, which is why I decided to write this very unfunny post about how tired I am all the time. I don’t know how many thyroids a human body has — 4? — but all of them are likely functioning poorly, leading me to a life of constant ineffective cups of coffee and walking in the terrible, awful sunlight just to try to find a modicum of energy. Last night, I was trying to watch that episode of Farscape where the crew finds a gaggle of cannibals on a totally fucked up, deteriorating Leviathan ship. I could barely keep my eyes open, even during close-ups of Ben Browder’s sexy blue eyeballs. How am I supposed to enjoy an evening of cringey sci-fi television and working through my backlog of 85 Xbox games when I’m zonking out on my couch before the sun even goes down? How many Red Bulls am I supposed to chug to get my nights back?

me lol

Every day, every fucking day, I spend my commutes dozing on the trains and buses. Dozing on the way in, dozing on the way home. Are you aware of how many times I’ve probably dodged the bullet of a very smelly, heroin-addled homeless man stealing my backpack full of pens, movie ticket stubs, my kids’ hair clips, and an umbrella with barely-working Velcro? How many times have I avoided getting penises drawn on my face by those seven unruly children who get on the Green Line at the Central stop? That 12-year-old with the forearm tattoos looks awfully shifty to me.

Then there’s the actual work day. Pushing paper is sleepy work, my friend. Oh, how I look forward to noon. There’s a couch upstairs in the abandoned Sales office. I scurry away during every lunch period to the quiet dimness. Typically, that’s the time I attack my comic book write-ups, but more often than not you’ll catch me snoozing for an hour instead. I’d rather not sleep. I’d much rather read comic books. But I can’t help it. I’m so goddamned tired all the time. And do I feel rested after this nap? Hardly, son. Hardly.

Let’s talk about the weekend. Man, am I tired on the weekend. Some Saturdays I’ll even take two naps! How fucked up is that? On a regular spring day, normal people are enjoying a traipse around town. Perhaps a lunch at their favorite restaurant, sitting outside in the sun and eating their delicious bagels, lox, and capers. What am I doing? I’m fucking sleeping in my bed while the rest of my family is antsy about going outside and actually doing something for the day. How selfish can you be?

me lol

Loyal readers of the blog (ha!) will notice that my updates have really tapered off. This is because I’m so shitfucking tired all the time. I don’t do the things I write about, so I have nothing to write about unless I do the things. Am I partaking in fun solo journaling games? Nope. Am I catching up on blockbuster movies? Not a chance. Am I enjoying a book or two? Nada. When I’m not unconscious, my free time in spent rewatching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and fucking around in Skyrim. How many times can I really see Xander fall in love with an inhuman monster? How many Falmer can I kill with dwarven arrows? These are the things I think about now.

I’m so tired that I can’t even be bothered to post the stuff I already wrote about. Are you aware of how many posts, articles, and reviews I currently have on tap, ready to post? Would you believe it’s somewhere around 200? Two hundred! So why am I not churning these out on the regular, giving myself a reprieve for the next 2/3 of a year? It’s because I’m so damn tired all the time, that’s why. These posts still need to be proofread, and reading is exhausting. I have 42 movie reviews just waiting there, ready for the world to see. But I’d rather take a nap than show it to you. You don’t deserve to see my Zoolander musings anyway.

The culprit? Work. Kids. Life. Depression. Anxiety. Responsibilities. I can’t handle any of it, man. I wake up every morning at 6:10am to pack the kids’ lunches (loaded with nutrient-free carbohydrates), take a shower, get dressed, get my kids dressed, make sure they have everything, and leave the house by 7:10am. I’m beat just thinking about it! What an awful hour that is. There’s nothing I look forward to less than getting ready in the morning before I even commute to work. I’d rather rake out my eyes with, like, you know, a rake.

Should I go to a doctor? How is a doctor going to relieve me of my myriad responsibilities? I’m already going to therapy once a week and meeting with a psychiatrist once a month. I’m taking more pills than any human should probably take at 37.

Writing all this made me tired. I’m going to go take a nap.


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JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3 – “War of the Worlds”

* Part 3 of 4 of the New World Order storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3 – “War of the Worlds”! In the previous installment, the entire Justice League fights the entire Hyperclan and the entire Justice League dies. They die! They all die! Hyperclan wins again!

Well, all are dead except for Superman. Surely he will cobble together a new Justice League out of dismembered old Justice League body parts. Want a Wonder Lantern? Flash Woman? Aquabat? It’s all here, baby.

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3 [March, 1997]
Written by: Grant Morrison

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3

They’ve got Superman hooked up to a very uncomfortable-looking metal reclining chair. They’ve got a chunk of green Kryptonite in a glass orb hovering three above Superman’s head. “Oh, Superman…” mocks Protex. “All those people you’ve saved over the years: where are they now? No one is coming. No one cares. You are alone at the end of the world. Completely alone.”

Alone like a fox! Superman isn’t going to take this lying down with Kryptonite in his midst! …oh, wait.

Batman is still alive! He managed to not get blown up by a heat-seeking missile somehow, which is crazy impossible but fuck it, right? “The Hyperclan thinks I’m dead,” he thinks. “That gives me an edge.”

You couldn’t even shave a beard with that edge, sir.

Batman penetrates the Hyperclan’s space stronghold by bashing through the window crotch-first. How and why Batman doesn’t get destroyed by the harsh vacuum of space is anybody’s guess, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that he’s getting surrounded by sentry jellyfish… (?)

Meanwhile, the Flash is also not dead. He’s getting chased by ZüM, who may actually be faster! Flash is ahead, but ZüM is gaining on him micrometers at a time! Then he suddenly speeds ahead and starts throwing bricks behind him at Flash. “From what we can figure, all of these guys have powers in the Superman class and then some!” Flash thinks as he dodges fuckin’ bricks to the head. “If I don’t start thinking the way he does, I’m in trouble.”

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3

This ain’t school, son. Though you ART better WORKSHOP some ideas or else you’ll get a little chin MUSIC with the PHYSICS of the situation!

Flash moves toward light speed as he barrels around town narrowly killing any and all civilians. “The speed field beginning to form around me;” he says like a Big Bang Theory character. “A flowing world of mystery. Silver, morphing, hyperdimensional gels. Speed heaven, the source of my power.” It’s like, what the fuck are you even talking about? What is all this pseudoscience?

Flash successfully “uses his science” (aka. runs faster) to catch up with ZüM. With all that momentum, one punch in the jaw should take him out! And it sure does! Flash punches ZüM so hard that he flies seven miles per second, eventually landing in the middle of what looks like the Sahara Desert, creating an enormous crater at the impact site. Yeah, baby.

Who else is still alive? Green Lantern! He’s in the Gobi Desert where he’s getting choked to death by a Captain America knockoff with a lasso. “What is it with supervillains nowadays?” he thinks as the oxygen stops flooding his brain. “What happened to crazy jewel heists and dumb traps? Now they murder your girlfriend and stuff her in the fridge for kicks.”

Knockoff Cap yells to his robot companion that the color yellow is the Green Lantern’s weakness, so his robot companion turns yellow. Badabing badaboom. But, thankfully, it’s plot hole time! Those were the old rings! Kyle Rayner has one of them new rings where yellow doesn’t work! Bwahahaha!

He creates a projection of an identical robot copy and punches the real robot to fuckin’ Saturn. My hero! *swoon*

A crowd of civilians gathers to turn against Green Lantern for harming their precious, precious Hyperclan members. Boo Justice League! They smell like farts and we’re going to kill them, right? Well, Green Lantern gets so distracted by the crowd that he doesn’t see Knockoff Cap’s shield spinning toward his face at 4,700 mph…

…Flash saves him though, like he always does. Then he whips the shield back before Flash and Green Lantern skip off into the night.

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Ha, Cindy Crawford. How very ‘90s of you, comic book!

“These guys are gonna recover pretty soon,” Flash says to Green Lantern. “Knocking them down’s one thing, but I get the feeling they won’t stay there long.” But Green Lantern is feeling pumped and ready to fuck more Hyperclan ass! I mean, “kick”. “Kick” is what I meant.

The duo infiltrates the Gobi Desert base and finds the monitor room. They find footage of Superman getting tortured by Protex with a news bite indicating that they’ll cover Superman’s trial and execution for the Justice League’s crimes against the Earth! Green Lantern is beside himself with exasperation and incontinence! “Look, I say we just trash this place and then make sure the others are okay,” he says while Flash attempts to get some info out of the room. He finds a large orb with an image of the Earth on it and the positions of the Hyperclan’s orbital transmitters. Flash discovers that they aren’t hidden in space; they’re hidden in hyperspace! Doy! That’s why they couldn’t detect them!

Green Lantern catches on quickly. He realizes that this is how those bad guys seemed to come out of nowhere either an issue ago or two issues ago, I forget. Anyway, what if there are dozens more bad guys waiting to come out of these orbital transmitters? What if there are fleets upon fleets? It’s not looking good, that’s for damn sure. Maybe they should call it a day and play some Crash Bandicoot at home.

They should have left a minute earlier, because Knockoff Cap and his Large Robot Buddy showed up to kick some ass again. We’ll leave them to it.

The Hyperclan at one of their bases discovers through their console that five defense drones have been neutralized on the upper levels. What if Batman is still alive and also on the base and also upstairs and also ruining everything?

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3

Batman?! Ha! You mean the dude with rabies? What’s he going to do, get stuck in your hair? Stupid Batman.

Protex tells A-Mortal that if Batman did survive, then cripple him and bring him back. He’s going to make him and Superman kiss. A-Mortal breaks through the upper levels in search of the ever-elusive Batman. “I know you’re here, Batman. I can taste your pheromones,” he says disgustingly. “I can see through walls. Don’t waste our time.”

Batman is trying to hide rather clumsily. He stuffed himself in a corner where more than half of him is exposed by light. How will he turn the tables? We’ll have to see in a minute, because Wonder Woman is also still alive and Protex fits a snug fishbowl over her head. “It seems almost a shame to destroy this one…” Protex says, probably because she’s the one with the vagina. The Hyperclan White Lady, whatever her name is, gets itchy and nervous that A-Mortal hasn’t reported back. Has the Batman clobbered his butthole? They all start scrambling to look for A-Mortal, and they find him on the upper floors unconscious and hanging by his waist on a pole with a note taped to his chest: “I KNOW YOUR SECRET!”

JLA (Vol. 1), Issue #3

THE TOILETS ARE BACKED UP AGAIN!

Meanwhile, Batman gets surrounded by three Hyperclan goons. “Any last words?” says the bald lady with 5,000 eyebrow piercings. And yeah, Batman’s got a few.

“Super-strength, flight, invulnerability, shape-changing, mind-control: you’re Martians, aren’t you? And when you brought down my aircraft you didn’t dare search the wreckage because of the one thing which robs your people of your powers.”

Batman smiles devilishly as he holds up a box of matches. “Fire.”

He strikes a match while the Bald Hyperclan Lady begins to panic ever so subtly. The place happens to be doused in gasoline, and after Batman happened to somehow figure out that the Hyperclan can be destroyed by fire, Batman happens to flick the match onto the floor, which happens to ignite. “SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING!” Knockoff Cap yells as he’s engulfed in flames.

Batman strokes his chin.

Protex is still yelling about Batman being useless and stupid and mortal and smelly. How can he beat a clan of superbeings?? Of hyperbeings?? It don’t make no goddamn sense!

“Your puh-plans… are… falling apart… Protex,” Superman pants with labored breathing. Protex has an ace up his sleeve. “ACTIVATE THE FLOWER OF WRATH! KILL THE HUMANS!”

Invaders appear out of the orbital transmitters. Seventy more Hyperclan members ready to level all of Earth’s major cities! “WE WIN! WE WIN!” Protex yells maniacally.

Final Thoughts

Look forward to Issue #4 when we learn why the Hyperclan doesn’t win. It’ll involve Batman and a can of Raid bug killer.


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