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Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Reason I Like Joe Quesada (Temporarily)

To the horror of fanboys everywhere, recently, Spider-Man made a deal with Mephisto. If you haven't read this story, don't: it sucks. But it sucks in the same way that Hal Jordan becoming Parallax: it gave us a new Kyle Rayner moment.

Because I hate this storyline, I'll use the slightly-better-contrived plot from Emerald Twilight. Hal Jordan, current (and intensely unpopular with readers) Green Lantern, has his home-town of Coast City destroyed by Mongul. What follows plays out a lot like a Disney Acid Sequence (DAS): you freak out, let it take it's course, and somewhere along the line, 15 minutes later, your brain kicks in again with no real memory of what just happened.

ANYWAY. Hal Jordan goes Axe Crazy. And I don't mean "heeeeere's Johnny" crazy, either. He goes crazy on a level usually reserved for Chuck Norris power-levels. He becomes a 12.0 on the 10.0 scale of MANLINESS. And by this, I mean of course that he remorselessly tracks down and slaughters every one of the GLC for their rings. Why does he do this? Who the hell cares? It's awesome in a way that only this picture can encompass.

The entire point of this rant, getting back to Marvel comics once again, is that both of these storylines did something for me personally. The key word here is ME. I, like many of my fellows, hated Hal Jordan. (Well, I hated him when I read the comics. I was, like, 8 at the time.) However, I loooove Kyle Rayner. But, as my colleague Linkara once said, "[The fans] liked Kyle Rayner, they just weren't happy about what they had to go through to get him!"

I always agreed with Joe Quesada on one thing: Mary Jane SUCKS. Seriously, look at what's happened to her in comics since his reign began. This (forgetting that she's married and all) is only the latest in a long string of abuses heaped upon poor, poor MJ.

I hate the One More Day storyline for what it represents, yes: executive dickery with plots. However, I bet you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this rant, so I'll wrap it up.

I have four words for you.

Black. Cat. Is. Sexy.

And now that he's no longer even cognizant of the idea that he could've been at any time considering the notion of contemplating marriage to MJ, he's free to hook up with Black Cat again. You know, like how it was, back in the good ol' days? And now we won't have to go through that falling-out stage of Mary-Jane wondering why Pete chose the interesting female lead over her.

Vilify me and Joe if you want. Call us philistines, monsters, irreverent of the fandom. Call us things that would make R. Lee Earmy blush. But I know what I like, and what I like is more issues of oh-so-self-insertable scenes of Black Cat and Spider-Man intermittently kicking ass and making out.

Oh, and she beat down Sabretooth this one time. And during Peter's marriage, she told MJ (her friend, no less!) that she was GOING to sleep with Peter. And you know what? Thanks to the gigantic memory loss concerning the marriage and Peter's revealing of his identity during a certain Civil War...

SHE DID.

I love the potential of what we can do with this new, open-to-Felicia-Hardy-related-romps world that you've created, Joe. Now, never do anything that stupid ever again as breaking up MJ and Peter with Mephisto, or I'll have you're face. I know Moon Knight. Don't get smart with me, or you'll be calling yourself Bushman for the rest of your life.

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About Me

San Jose, California, United States
From beginnings that almost made me one of the dreaded "beautiful people", I've dedicated myself to one simple goal: making sure I stay the HELL away from mainstream pop culture. As a secondary goal, I wanted nothing more than to have a helping hand in rearing the third wave of angry, mal-adjusted, overly-intellectual nerds. Heavy metal. Comic books. Movies. Sci-fi. Lord of the Rings. Led Zeppelin. Conan the Barbarian. Conan the (now-ex) Late-Night Host. Bizarre sexual fantasies involving women of varying degrees of badassedness. Bruce Campbell. Joss Whedon. All of these things, and so, so much more, I will address. And rave about. Or pan, as it may be necessary to do. Till Ragnarok, my brothers! Excelsior!