Is this a hint, that the jolly mercenary with the unstoppable mouth should be joining the scene pretty soon? Sure, there were a few times before Deadpool's appearance had been teased:
So this is from an episode of Ultimate Spider-man titled 'Freaky', probably in reference to the movie 'Freaky Friday', in which Spider-man and Wolverine got the good ol' fashioned switcheroo treatment, courtesy of Mesmero, a mutant with mind manipulating abilities and definitely an individual seen far more treacherous than a fortune cookie.
Is this a hint, that the jolly mercenary with the unstoppable mouth should be joining the scene pretty soon? Sure, there were a few times before Deadpool's appearance had been teased:
Still, one mustn't give up hope. The thought of Deadpool and Spider-man fighting over who gets to break the fourth wall is nothing short of exciting... and probably a bit confusing. What's his face doing on a magazine anyway?
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I've been watching random episodes of Ultimate Spider-man recently, and I can't say for sure that I love or hate it. So consider this a somewhat honest review of the show coming from a fairly non-spidey fan.
The show basically tries to balance between Spider-man's serious, 'with great power comes great responsibility' and wackier sides in his heroics; or so it seems, considering there are points throughout where the dichotomy simply collapses, as the picture would suggest. Apparently, SHIELD's been busy in the show, with Nick Fury being reduced to the babysitter of all superheroes under the age of twenty. Not only is Spider-man acting as one of the agency's many operatives, so are Luke Cage aka Power Man, Danny Rand aka Iron Fist and Ava Ayala aka White Tiger, Sam Alexander, aka Nova, and yes, all three went to the same school as Peter Parker, aka Spider-man, which I'm sure you already know. Not sure whether they named their little super-powered team, though.
All five superheroes getting a teenage redesign, facing usual teen issues, school, friends, beating up supervillains almost on a daily basis. 'Fury's lapdogs' isn't the right phrase, though it's the first that comes to mind. From the few episodes that I've had the chance to watch, there are a few things I like, such as the fact that the show introduces characters rarely seen on the screen, let alone on the same one as Spider-man, namely Taskmaster (whom I totally adore, handing both Spidey and White Tiger their own butts once, and whoever voice-acted him must be totally sexy in real-life... did I say that out loud?), Nightmare (not so much) and Batroc the Leaper (Eh).
What I hate about the show is that the show would tend to go overboard, weighing more on utter wackiness to the point of being extremely infantile, and not in a side-splitting manner. I can't quite bear with the regular fourth-wall breaking, which I have always attributed to be a thing of Deadpool's...
...not that Spidey's not entirely good at it, every fourth-wall breaking moment in the show simply seems dramatized, hence my using the word 'infantile'. 'Course, that's what being a teenager's all about: adding drama to just about everything.
I'll be watching Ultimate Spidey maybe till the end of the season as an alternative for entertainment since the unjust cancellation of The Avengers: EMH, looking forward only to any future team-ups with Spider-man and future confrontations with Taskmaster, who I agree with Deadpool should seriously consider a name change. Speaking of which, a question to the producers : was the design of Doctor Strange supposed to be a homage to Criss Angel, or was the resemblance simply coincidental? Oh, and what exactly was the reason behind the lack of wrinkles on two specific seniors in the show? 'Cause Aunt May looks like Martha Stewart with hair dyed white. The Dr Animaux look given to Doc Ock? Yeah, saw what you did there.
Sorry if it ended a bit... rant-y.
It's that time of the year where everyone comes around for family reunions or office parties, exchanging gifts, generally enjoying oneself with good company and good food, and so on. I'm not a Christmas person, though I greatly enjoy various affairs associated to it, such as giving myself an excuse to buy comic books and pretending to be surprised about their 'sudden' appearances beside my bed, and watching reruns of the Christmas episode in Community, Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas.
In related news, Deadpool decided to bring about his own brand of Christmas Cheer in this issue of Deadpool MAX, by faking the death of associate Bob: Agent of Hydra, wanted for committing acts of terrorism allegedly in the name of Hydra, in an attempt to show how his death would affect everyone Bob had ever known. It rather put me in mind of an episode in Fairly Oddparents where Timmy wished he'd never been born, and found that everyone's better off under such a circumstance, a similar epiphany that struck Bob as well.
From infiltrating a secret government intelligence facility dressed up as a pair of Santa Clauses, the idea of which, as Deadpool later figured, flies in the face of the the fact that there can only be one Santa Claus; to visiting Inez, Deadpool's lunatic wife, who also adopted the role of a scantily clad Santa Claus, the dynamic duo sure stepped up their own insanity into every nook and cranny they could worm their way into. Unfortunately, do keep the untainted minds of children away as, if you're new to Deadpool Max, bear in mind no punches were pulled back on the sexual material department. Note that every pervert in this issue is glued to Cable's up and running porn site, showing various depraved acts of sexuality involving him and an Asian slut named Colleen, who I gather played an integral role in Bob's origins.
From this rather hackneyed exercise, offset by the fun-loving, mentally-addled mess of a government agent, Bob learns something important about his life, and I was greatly entertained. Win-win.
The psychics of SHADE, short for Super Human Advanced Defense Executive, have gone berserk, and it turns out Monster Planet isn't merely a planet filled to the brim with monsters and mountain-sized monsters; it's actually a living thing on the verge of dying, slowly being fed off by its unseemly inhabitants. Team Frankenstein have parted ways; Frankenstein and Dr. Mazursky the hideous depths of the sea, while Lady Frankenstein, Vincent Velcoro/ the vampire and Warren Griffith/ the werewolf the hideous wildlife of ogre continent.
This is certainly as fun and explosive a read as extermination work is, considering it involves abominations and ordnance abuse of course. Nina Mazursky was somehow mistaken as a mother figure for the monstrous sea creatures dwelling on Monster Planet and as a probable mate for their titan of a father, the experience of which, disturbing as it seems, resonate with the mermaid's tragic and mad scientist-esque journey to motherhood, not to mention her scientific curiosity as expressed by her reluctance to kill the sea titan in order that she could learn more about its aquatic anatomy or something along those lines.
As it becomes quite obvious, it takes more than the wife of Frankenstein's monster, a vampire and a werewolf to run a genocidal campaign against the populace of ogre continent, including their one-eyed, mountain-sized president. The Toybox was sent down, a box literally full of toys only conceivable in the wildest imagination of any six-year-old boy with an obsession over G. I. Joe action figures. That, together with a butt load of money. Father Time certainly lived up to his fleshly exterior of a schoolgirl while handling the controls of the Toybox, which resembled the typical game controller of a playstation. There were also a few references to conventional superheroes, this for instance:
An exciting conclusion to the Monster Planet story arc, and Frankenstein's found a family of monsters to spend the holidays with, considering Frankenstein does celebrate the holidays. Or that he even has any plans for intimacy with his teammates and his ex-wife.
In this issue, the Greatest Detective in the World faces off against a pack of frenzied Joker lookalikes all wired up like marionettes in order to justify the authenticity of the vigilante before the Dollmaker's clients bidding for the body of Batman, including one of Batman's notorious foes, Penguin. Meanwhile, Commissioner Gordon remained under less unsavory circumstances as well in the company of the mysterious Olivia, who, in the last issue, was seen to have murdered a police officer of seemingly ill intentions and, not surprisingly, was responsible for setting Batman up with the Commissioner's help.
From watching episodes of Batman: The Animated Series, it caught me by surprise that Sergeant Bullock would trust Batman enough not to place him as a cop-killer, during the investigation held over Olivia's victim, and with the Commissioner placed out of commission, it is certainly unwise to hold out one's own prejudices while taking charge of things. This is also the first instance where the Dollmaker's cronies, aside from the psychotic nurse, were seen fully capable of speech, both monkey and gorilla, what with their tongueless jester acquaintance, previously manhandled by Batman. Olivia's relationship with the Dollmaker remains unresolved, as is the identity of the villain, whose questionable connection with Wayne Corps might aid Batman in bringing him closer to justice, not to mention for the Dollmaker's corruption of a young innocent soul.
The real Joker, being yet to be found, somehow gathered a cult-like following around an idol that is the man's grotesque face peeled off and presently under deep freeze, which is uncanny in the way it mirrors how the first issue ended. There is also the possibility that the Joker had died from excessive bleeding while limping around without a face, though we all know by now the man is practically unkillable. All in all, this issue left only a few knots resolved and poorly done action scenes which I've given up trying to reason with while probably stirring up something beneath Gotham's underbelly.
Previous issue: Detective Comics #3
It's the ultimate showdown between good and evil in this issue; well, so to speak. Deadpool, our morally ambiguous Merc with the Mouth, finally comes face to face with a nightmarish duplicate of himself, named Evil Deadpool, born from a chain of events involving a British psychotherapist love drunk bordering on the psychotic and her refrigerated stash of various appendages discarded from past mercenary escapades, which was also referenced to in the issue cover by Evil Deadpool himself.
Deadpool threw it down with an adversary unlike any he had ever faced: himself, in the flesh, both of whom throughout this issue efforted to outdo each other like a mentally distorted pair of sitcom characters, only more graphically than conventional television could afford innocent young minds, and under the circumstance in which both man and monster mirror each other with their capacity for everyone's daily dose of insanity and caprice, rendering their own attempts to kill each other off as futile as Deadpool's own attempts at suicide.
Chaotic as always, with seemingly devoid of any sense of direction, doesn't it bother anyone that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing? They've seemed to have taken out Deadpool's tendency for pop culture referencing, and in so doing, proceeded to choking him with the mercenary's inherent self-loathing so far. The odd thing, in the process of failing to commit suicide, Deadpool somehow lose himself bit by bit, probably the least entertaining manner of suicide that should not even appeal to himself, as paradoxical as the man is.
The issue culminates in the guest-appearance of one of the biggest stars in the Marvel Universe, and it's certainly not Bea Arthur, of whom so far Deadpool had not even make any mention. It's so depressing that the writers want him be done with eventually...
I miss Weasel.
Previous Issue: Deadpool #45
A beyond epic trailer featuring the latest Elder Scrolls installment by Bethesda: Skyrim! In place of Cliff Racers (hopefully), Dragons will be reigning the skies of Skyrim, and as far as I know, you'll be killing/ maiming these magnificent creatures as well as learning their tongue and the words of power, being the Dragonborn, in which you'll be wasting the harvested souls of dragons instead of your magicka reserve. The trailer music still sends me chills, despite being merely a derivative of the theme from Morrowind and Oblivion. The standing attribute in this case is the viking chant in the dragon's tongue, somehow putting me in mind of Wagner's Rise of the Valkyries, and here are the lyrics, incoherent and seemingly meaningless as it sounds:
Naal ok zin los vahriin
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal
Ahrk fin norok paal graan
Fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin Fah hin kogaan mu draal
Ahrk fin kel lost prodah
Do ved viing ko fin krah
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein
Alduin feyn do jun
kruziik vokun staadnau
voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein
By his honor is sworn
To keep evil forever at bay
And the fiercest foes rout
When they hear triumph's shout
Dragonborn for your blessing we pray
And the scrolls have fortold
Of black wings in the cold
That when brothers wage war come unfurled
Alduin bane of kings
Ancient shadow unbound
With a hunger to swallow the world
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Instead of slapping together a shoddy comic book review, I've been indulging myself in the third Elder Scrolls game: Morrowind. So far, a level 11 Nord Crusader who'd only recently slaughtered a Dremora Lord (which wasn't at all a walk in a park as I expected; yes, it was my first encounter), unleashed upon myself by my annoying disposition to take things which do not belong to me. What can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment, still stranded within the confines of Ramimilk Shrine, with a variety of Daedric entities (I caught a glimpse of a Frost Atronach lurking around behind one of the stone pillars) swarming outside.
Anywho, I've never loved a game so much. Then again, I've never played anything outside Pokemon and games that run in gameboy emulators before, so you can probably imagine the euphoria I would feel, to leave reality behind as I delve into the fantastical, into a place seemingly without bounds. The mind-blowing amount of detail put into it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, from the landscape to the weather's caprice. Killing unsightly creatures, raiding tombs and lost shrines, it was enough to keep me hooked on to it for hours. The music alone sufficed to turn me on all the more as I wandered about, and now I find myself humming to the tune every time I leave the house, commencing a new adventure beyond the comfort of my abode to uncharted territories (a nearby convenience store).
I should also make a mention of the game's interactive gameplay. A vastly customizable character, a vast range of races to choose from, each with their strengths and infirmities. For instance, Nords are highly frost- and shock resistant, though lacking in the way of the mystic arts. Loads of quests available as you progress, loads more as you join a guild or a house, bringing you to new places scattered across the island of Morrowind. I joined a temple in Balmora, which may seem out of line from my being an atheist, the concept of which is possibly a nonexistent one in the Elder Scrolls realm, considering gods do exist, and from much Googling, you'll be fighting one at the end of the game, and the fact that bartering with any god of your choosing in exchange of a blessing seems a better deal than maintaining my personal values. Quests are also one among a range of ways to make money or receive better equipment. Still, it would eventually seem that a portion of them run along a single-minded trend; be sent somewhere else to either kill/ maim someone/ something or retrieve something. Nothing to complicated so far; save the dizzying routes I had to take sometimes, though it probably won't pose any problem to the navigationally superior g I'm nowhere near completing the game yet (too much to explore; I'm quite easily distracted, do note), so I'm not at liberty to judge at the moment. The game's combat system is staggeringly elementary; simply click the left button of your mouse till your foe submits to your blows if you're wielding a sword or anything else with a grip. Blocking is automated, unfortunately.
Overall, Morrowind, in my opinion, borders on the fantastic, despite its various faults. My happy place as well, so to speak. I don't particularly relish being jumped upon from behind by a walking corpse. Now, to find a way out from the shrine...
Politically incorrect, highly irreverent, I should have started reading the Goon series sooner. From what I gathered, the Goon deals with the occult and supernatural forces alongside Franky the pupil-less sidekick, with whom the course usually takes on a humorous if slightly demented manner.
Death's Greedy Comeuppance comes with three stories: the first accounting Franky and the folks at the bar attempting rather unsuccessfully to drop on the Goon a birthday party, cake, beer and all, including a self-reference where Eric Powell himself discusses his formula for irreverent humor with a Mr.T-themed Terminator robot; the second, the Goon and Franky caught in a conflict between a Scrooge-like figure and a seductive whore, where dialogues are replaced by symbols reflecting one's own thoughts and symbols; the third detailing the course of Buzzard, the Goon's immortal acquaintance, which led up to a face-off with an equally immortal beast, equally fed up with immortality itself.
Coupled with fantastic art, this volume hits a high note in the spectrum of the far-fetched and nonsensical (the raping gorilla idea was a nice touch) in the first one, then a lower key in the second story as the only thing I could draw a few short chuckles out of was Franky's fluctuating sexual inclinations, which was just as well a delight as the last, where the Buzzard's brooding reflects the face of immortality impeccably, while being employed as an ironic reference to the Horseman of Death at the same time. Despite being quite new to the Goon series, I was largely entertained throughout and am wanting for more in the future, though money-wise, I don't think it would be any more possible considering my limited financial capabilities at the moment. Bummer.
Continuing the second issue, Shang Chi, the master of kung fu, who'd grown a pair of spider arms due to the ongoing spider plague, faced off against Ai Apaec, a spider god of sorts with the hair rivaling those of Medusa while Iron Fist went off to free his fellow Immortal Weapons. Despite his enhanced physical prowess, Shang Chi was no match for the abomination as he further evolved into something doubly hideous.
The Immortal Weapons subsequently joined the fight upon being freed from their webbed imprisonments, which meant more fancy fighting techniques such as Flying Bear Kissing Dragon's Butt (Sorry, couldn't help it). The arachnid persona began dominating over the will of Shang Chi, who probably would spend the rest of his days feeding off flies caught in a homemade web had Iron Fist not tried to cure him of his ailment.
Shang Chi displayed quite an inferiority complex, so to speak, in fighting the spider demon by his lonesome while letting the Immortal Weapons go, unwilling to allow them to protect a mere mortal such as himself, before dropping the whole building on Ai Apaec and himself.
They really should have a move named Flying Bear Kissing Dragon's Butt. Nevertheless, Shang Chi's humanity saved himself from succumbing into his inner spider as well as others from being fodder for a spider chimera god, which makes this issue somewhat beyond merely filled with senseless violence and a vapid plot to go with. The flurry of brushstrokes that comprises the artwork throughout wasn't terrible, in the sense of accentuating the fast-paced action carried about, though it wasn't outstandingly done as well.