Let me first say thank you to James who, despite being a complete idiot for enjoying heroes, has put out one of the best comic books I’ve read in some time (and yes, I’m told to say that, but I do mean it).  For all of you hesitant in purchasing MYTHOI, don’t be — it’s the real deal.  James however, is a moron.  Moving on…

This weekend is the first annual Long Beach Comic Convention.  Ben (my boss) has decided to take James (the schmuck) with him this year…  That’s fine.  The rest of us didn’t want to go anyways.  Conventions are stupid.  All those talented writers and artists, the hot women in skimpy, character outfits, and the breaking entertainment news — who cares about that stuff?  *sigh

So, today we’re going to discuss (and by “discuss” I mean I am going to observe, judge and ridicule) the five types of people James and Ben are guaranteed to see this weekend and at every comic con ever.

1. Jedis who look more like Jabbas.

To be clear, I’m not saying that these protectors of the universe are fat (though they do tend to be), but what I’m saying is they look like anything but Jedis!  I’ve seen all three Star Wars movies and neither Luke, nor Darth ever appeared in any way similar to the pudgy, old, bifocaled weirdos I see at conventions.  Whenever I complain about this fact my friends always defend the not-quite-metachlorine-filled bastards with, “leave ‘em alone, their just having fun!”  Fun?  Really?  Then I suppose it would be okay with you if I dressed up in a red cocktail dress, called myself Santa and had sex with a dog in front of some prestigious hotel?!  Because that’s the type of fun that these awkward, bastards are having at my expense!  They have taken something dear to me  and don it as if they ever had the right…  No!  Enough is enough! I’m sorry that you never made anything substantial out of your life and that your adopted (I know you’re a virgin) children hate you because you say tried coaching them through life with sayings like, “use the force,” and, “I find your lack of faith disturbing,” but for the love of all things sacred stop dressing up like you are the knights of Lucas’s wet-dream!

If I had a son and took him to a comic convention I would demand he close his eyes each and every time we passed by one of you assholes because you’d only give him nightmares about Luke getting old, fat and pathetic.  You know what you people are?  You’re like the movie HOOK for Star Wars.  You’re a reminder of how unfortunate make-believe is, because at the end of the day, when the fiction is done, we don’t get light sabers and mind powers — we get wrinkles, hemorrhoid cream and cancer spots.

Stapler Guy from Office Space?

“Stay back! This child must ride my X-Wing…”

F*ck you. Seriously.

This video has nothing to do with Comic Con and is as old as the internet, but damn it’s funny.

2. “Look at me!  This is funny!”  No.  It’s sad.

I’m willing to admit I don’t know everything about comics, vinyl toys, movies, anime, or manga.  But some of the sh*t you attention whores are willing to wear in order to get somebody to look at or, *gasp, maybe even take a picture with you, is f*cking pathetic.  For some of you, Comic Conventions are the few times a year where your penis has the possibility for fun times, but you seem hell-bent on breaking the will of your mini-man-muscle before you even gave it a chance.

“But Mr. Wolff,” you might say, “It’s not all about sex!  We do this to express ourselves, or to show our care, love and adoration of a certain character!”  Okay.  Fine.  But maybe, just maybe you could find a way to spread your love without losing your pride?  YOU LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT! Not the funny kind of idiot, but the oh my god, that-guy-would-juggle-babies-if-he-thought-people-would-watch kind of idiot.  Don’t believe it can be that bad?

The Grudge 3: Man Maid

Dear Asshole, please see point #1.

I wish it was the apocalypse so I could kill you.

3. Star Trek Fans serious enough to scare a Vulcan.

When it comes to the battle inherent between Star Wars and Star Trek, I’ve always landed on the side of The Force.  Though I’ll be the first to admit that at comic conventions it’s never the jedis who scare me (they just make me angry), it’s the Trekkies.  You see, to these pointy eared bastards, cosplay isn’t a game, most of them dress like they’re in Federation employ on normal days.  Comic conventions are just a way for them to congregate.  Think of them like drag queens…  Most hours of the week, they shave their legs, tuck their balls and throw more make-up on their face than a clown on cocaine.  Gay bars are just a place where they can be surrounded by fellow shims.  Trekkies are the same way.  Exactly the same way.

Trekkies are drag queens.

After this photo, the photographer was never seen again.

All of them should be doing something else. Anything else.

4. Asians (or Americans who wish they were Asian) wearing anime costumes you’ve never heard of.

Now, from what I understand, I should know some of these costumes.  Well, that doesn’t say much for those wearing them.  If I do know the characters they are dressing up as, then they are doing a pretty sh*t job of disguising themselves.  Even more likely however, I have never heard of these characters because they are MANGA or ANIME and I do not like either.  Yeah.  That’s right.  All I see is the same thing every time: kid with big hair and an even bigger weapon running around in brightly colored clothing and usually wearing at least one piece of clothing that stands out obnoxiously from the rest.

Regardless, you all look dumb.

The Walking Placenta?

Okay, I know this one… No. I don’t. Thank God.

Anime or 80s-Chick-Hair bandmember?

I’ve never felt pity for a couch before…

A Parent’s Nightmare on Elm Street?

Your parents don’t love you. I promise.

5. Hot Girls.  Yeah, I know…

It may be hard to believe but there are attractive women at comic conventions.  I’ll admit that the hottest ones are usually there because they’ve been paid to be, but every once in a while we geeks get lucky and meet up with a nerdy hot chick just begging to let her freak flag fly!  Finding these women isn’t hard because they usually have a crowd of slobbering, pasty, fat, bearded men circling them like hyena’s ready to eat a limping gazelle.  Though getting their attention often is…  So while you may look forward to looking at these fine specimens, plan on loving them only in the form of your hand and your memories.

So have fun with all the losers Ben and James!

…and the hot girls…

*sigh

Until next time,

Mr. Wolff

Hello fans of fiction!

My name is James Ninness, writer of Mythoi, lover of the Bootie and closet fan of Heroes (don’t tell Mr. Wolff).  I’m flattered that Ben, Mr. Wolff, Ash, Street Fece and Akatzen have asked me to write a little something-something in preparation for our departure to Long Beach for the first annual Long Beach Comic Con this weekend!  Ben tells me that we’re getting t-shirts to wear with the Semantink logo, so if you see us meandering about please feel free to come up and say hi!

I’ve known Benji for a while and I knew that he’d been talking about starting/running a publishing house for some time, but I was honored, elated and nervous as hell when he asked MYTHOI to be Semantink’s premiere property!  I’ve published a few short stories and some poetry here and there, but writing comic books has always been a dream.  All I have to do now is make out with a midget and I can officially die a happy man.

I was born and raised in San Diego, California, but I got my degree in English: Creative Writing from Cal State University Long Beach.  I did a bit of traveling and-  Okay.  This is boring.  How’s this:  Once I hog tied a crazy, drunk girl and threw her in a trailer because she threatened to stab me in my sleep.  True story!  She wriggled her cell phone out of her pocket and called the cops, but didn’t know where she was.  When I checked on her an hour later she was still on the phone with them so I took it and found out that several cop cars and a helicopter had been scouring Irvine looking for the motor-home she was in!  I gave them my address and when they showed up they asked me to keep the girls phone so she didn’t bug them anymore.  What does that have to do with comic books?  Nothing.  But it’s more fun than knowing anything about my education, publishing history and/or travel experiences.

So, as you’ve hopefully heard, I’ve got this title coming out through Semantink called MYTHOI.  I actually wrote MYTHOI almost four years ago while I was in college.  The idea for the premise came out of my fascination with mythology, legends and all things supernatural.  So, I picked elements from my favorites and created my players…  Combining ghosts, Buddhism, dragons and yeti, I got Yuki (our only femme fatale).  Vampires, werewolves, mummies and zombies gave me Vito, the oldest 10-year-old-bodied vampire ever.  The Terminator movies, Universal Soldier (yeah, Lundgren and Van Damme), anything post-apocalyptic and ninjas helped to create Touch.  Wiglaf arose from ancients texts like the Bible, Beowulf and Norwegian texts.  And last but not least came Taros, birthed out of my love of Greek/Roman mythology.  Now take all of those parent-ideas and all of the concepts, ideas and beliefs about each of them, throw them in our world, right now and shake it up — that’s MYTHOI.  Actually, let me introduce you to one of the minor characters, Cat — This is a sketch from my amazing artist, Jed Soriano (ironically, Cat is a werewolf):

MYTHOI is 60 issues long.  That’s it.  After 60 issues the story is done.  And while I can’t give away too much of the plot, I can lead you with a few questions…  If all gods ever conceived actually existed in today’s world where they are forgotten and cast aside, don’t you think they’d be a little upset?  If so, who would protect us humans from the big, angry gods?  I should also tell you that there are no superheroes in MYTHOI.  That’s it.  I’m afraid I can’t say anymore.  If you want to know more you’ll have to pick up issue #1 here.

If you haven’t already bought you tickets for the Long Beach Comic Con then you should do so immediately.  Even though it’s their first year, they’ve rounded up a pretty kick-ass line up:  Stan Lee, Jim Lee, Thomas Jane, Berkeley Breathed, Seth Green, Tim Bradstreet, Jeph Loeb, Jon Bogdanove, George Lazenby and many, many more!  I’ve been poking around the people who set the whole thing up and I have to say, they seem like a good group to be throwing this shindig.  I’m sure Benji will do a write-up of the whole event when we return, but if you care at all for comics and are anywhere near the Long Beach area you should definitely roll out this weekend (10/2 — 10/4).

I think that’ll do for now.  I hope I’ve piqued some of your curiosities about the comic and haven’t bored you too much.  If you want to write me, feel free to at jamesninness@yahoo.com.  Otherwise, enjoy MYTHOI and I hope to meet you soon!

James Ninness

Hi, kids! For today’s Book Report I’m reviewing a novel that spawned a series popular worldwide. It’s the story of a group of special kids, and one in particular, who band together to save the world.
For those who felt their chest seize up because they thought I was going to review Harry Potter, you can relax. For the record: I promise never to review Harry Potter on The Book Report.

The book I’m talking about is Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

First published as a novelette in 1977, and then released as a full-length novel in 1985, the popular novel won both the Hugo and the Nebula Award, spawned two series, several supplemental short stories, there is a movie in the works, and Marvel is working on comic adaptations. The novel has been translated into 27 languages and is part of the leadership curriculum at West Point.

Ender’s Game has probably one of my favorite openers to a science fiction novel (though most favorite would be the first line in Gibson’s Neuromancer: “The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.”):

“I’ve watched through his eyes, I’ve listened through his ears, and I tell you he’s the one. Or at least as close as we’re going to get.“
“That’s what you said about the brother.“
“The brother tested out impossible. For other reasons. Nothing to do with his ability.“
“Same with the sister. And there are doubts about him. He’s too malleable. Too willing to submerge himself in someone else’s will.“
“Not if the other person is his enemy.“
“So what do we do? Surround him with enemies all the time?“
“If we have to.“
“I thought you said you liked this kid.“
“If the buggers get him, they’ll make me look like his favorite uncle.“
“All right. We’re saving the world, after all. Take him.”

The are so many reasons why I like this opening. Firstly, it takes a risk by beginning the book-and the first page-with only dialogue and no discription, no clue as to who is talking, but it sets up a series of questions that intrigue me enough to keep reading.
Who is talking? How can someone see through someone else’s eyes and hear through someone else’s ears? Who are they talking about? Why is he the one? What happened to the brother and sister? Who are the buggers? What are their intentions, saving the world by surrounding a kid with enemies? “Take him” where? For what?

As these questions get answered more arise as Ender, the kid in question, is taken to a Battle School where he government trains military geniuses through various games. To save the world.

What follows is a novel of incredible depth and an incredibly complex and interesting main character cought up in the literal games of the Battle School and the somewhat more obscure political games of the military, his fellow students, and the government.
In the end, the book is an interesting examination of what exactly it means to be human. The two ensuing series which came from the novel also explore what it means to be human, each novel attacking the issue from a different perspective.

My big criticism with the novel is Card’s unwillingness to let the novel be what it is. When it was first published in 1985, the Cold War was reaching its peak, and the politics of the novel take it further, not anticipating its collapse. The aliens are called “buggers”, reflecting mankind’s xenophobia and habit of attaching durogatory terms to species or races they do not understand and/or fear. In 1991 Card released a new version, updating some of the politics and changing some of the language. Card recently announced his plan to revisit the novel again, updating the political atmosphere to more accurately reflect the changes the world has undergone since its original inception.
The most valuable aspect of history is the opportunity to learn from it, and science fiction excels in commentating on the state of the world in a way unique to its genre (for example, check out Mythoi). I understand the idea that an artist’s work is never finished, but I can’t get behind Mr. Card’s decision to continually edit his most popular novel to more accurately reflect the present.

I’d rather he write a new novel. Let Ender’s Game become the classic it deserves to be.

Until next time,
Still paddlin the old knew…
_-Akatzen-_

Rare photo MR Wolf caught workin on his next blog. He only comes out when his host sleeps.

Mr. Wolf helped out last week. I was worried about what would get posted as I didn’t know if we could have another rant twice in one week. Our heads could have exploded. Instead he went all Geek on it and posted a really cool blog. So thanks to you sir.

This week it is all about sleep. We here at Semantink do not seem to get this anymore. There is a lot that goes on behind the scenes that keep us going through the night and into the early morning hours. While staying up late for our generation is not unusual, I started to wonder how much sleep do we actually need?

The most common accepted hours of sleep one should get is 8 to 9 hours. I read somewhere that 7 would be the optimal but really I think it comes down to the individual. I personally would love to get 9 hours of sleep. Sleeping, while dearly missed, is more like an enemy trying to keep you from getting the things you need to get done. I say enemy because the US government treats it as such. They have done many studies on sleep. They would love to make it so soldiers could stay awake indefinitely without any side effects.  The Military has released many of their studies to the public. In some of these studies just good ole caffeine was used to keep troops awake. Apparently, while not officially endorsing energy supplements, there are many different kinds of energy products to be had on base. One military paper called “Facilitation of Task Performance and Removal of the Effects of Sleep Deprivation by an Ampakine (CX717) in Nonhuman Primates” found some interesting results. The results showed that monkeys kept awake and given Ampakine were faster and more alert than monkeys who were allowed to sleep.

This war with the enemy sleep is why there is such a big industry developing things to keep you awake. You have Coffee, tea, 5hour energy, Red Bull, Monster Energy, and Orexin A to name a very small few.  Your probably asking yourself what the hell is Orexin A. Well I’ll tell you. There is a professor of psychiatry at UCLA, named Jerome Siegel, that found an interesting way to keep us awake. If what he has figured out is released to the general population we will all be snorting a spray to stay awake (that should be the tagline : Spray Awake). Apparently we lose Orexin A during the day. The loss of this chemical makes us tired. Narcoleptics don’t seem to produce much of this stuff. Jerome Siegel made pure Orexin A into a spray that you should snort through your nose. This will wake you right up and without any side effects because your body would have produced the same stuff anyways.

I look creepily into your eyes as I spray awake

However the best way to finally beat the sleep is to catch a fever. Yeah that’s right if you catch this specific kind of fever you might never sleep again. Don’t believe me well then I would like to introduce you to Sixty-four-year-old Thai Ngoc. This guy has not slep in 33 years. My eyes bugged out when I read this. I was like BS he had to of taken a nap sometime. No he hasn’t because he tried and just couldn’t sleep. Thai Ngoc caught a fever in 1973 and since then has been unable to sleep. Not even drinking makes this guy pass out. He uses his new ability to work on his farm. Maybe Batman found this fever because how would he have time to sleep when fighting all night and then acting like nothing happened the next morning.

I’m going to just stick with my 5 min energy routine. You can watch it below. Oh man this helps me relieve my built up toxins of stress. Just make sure your home alone when your Three thumping in your Wayne Cook Posture. Until next weeks geek

Neil Patrick Harris did a great job at the Emmys.  Granted, I have never, not-once seen the Emmys before, but from what I hear, they usually suck.  Maybe not, but probably — most award shows do.  Regardless, I found Doogie quite entertaining and to me, the whole event was educational, as I have no idea who more than half the people who won are.  There was, however, one awkward moment where I found myself questioning all things right with the world: the reality TV segment.  I know that award shows often feel like Hollywood patting itself on the back, but giving time to “honor” the best in reality TV feels like Superman giving a keynote presentation on the awesome power of his Kryptonian erection to a group of male high school students, it’s just going to make everyone feel awkward and impotent, and it’s not really anything special, it’s just a matter of circumstance.  Superman (reality TV) didn’t do anything to earn his super-dick, he just happens to be at the right place at the right time, but there he goes, blabbering on about how awesome it is, and how his penis could puncture steel if improperly aroused.  I think I lost track of my metaphor somewhere…let’s back up a bit.

And Timmy went to his own fortress of solitude…

Reality TV has been around for a while, but the reality TV we know and love began as a result of the Writer’s Guild Strike of 1988.  Can you guess what show came out of that desperate need for programming?  COPS.  Quite frankly, I think COPS is awesome.  I love watching the crackheads, pimps, hos and drug dealers scramble and run around like animals in a zoo.  The only thing better than that is when we get to see white trash in some podunk town rolling around in his own feces holding tight to a six-pack of PBR screaming out about how much he loves his cousin.  Bless you COPS, bless you.  But COPS isn’t the type of reality TV I’m ’bout to get all flavors of rowdy on…

I blame Paula for this.

I understand the draw for some of these shows, I really do.  Take American Idol.  I know it’s fun for people to get together and vote on who they think is the best singer, essentially making that person rich off of their talent without having to work for it like other truly talented singers — it’s a god complex thing.  That’s cool.  But the problem is this:  Why is it that everyone from California to New York is all abuzz about Paula leaving as a judge and lesbEllen taking her place, when only 1/3 of the American population can name the three branches of our government?  I feel like every single fan of American Idol would live like the fat twats in WALL-E if they could, as long as they were given proper entertainment.

Like cattle…

How about Survivor?  I realize that the title is alluring to the fact that these people have to survive each other, and not the location they are in, but what the f*ck?  They won’t die and all they really do is bitch about each other the whole time.  If I wanted to be entertained by people fighting each other and talking sh*t behind each others backs I’d just go to my family’s house for dinner.  There’s no story being told and at the end of the show nobody watching it is any smarter than they were before, so what is the entertainment value?  And more importantly, why is it eligible for a f*cking Emmy?  For what?  Filming people being people in a place where people don’t live?  Oooh, innovative!  You can try and defend it if you want, but Survivor is one of the biggest mistakes our civilization has ever endorsed.  If you take every fan of survivor and asked them how to spell bug, they’d probably stare at you waiting for tribal council to vote you off the island like a mesmerized twat.

These shows are everywhere:  Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County, The Amazing Race, Project Runway, America’s Next Top Model, Fear Factor, Wife Swap, The Apprentice, Big Brother and Dancing with the Stars… This sh*t has taken over my TV.  I can’t switch through more than five channels without seeing an ad for one show more “real” than the next.  But what are they, really?  I think that giving the general public an insiders look into the lives of crab fishermen is fascinating, I really do, but why do we need to know about bored, rich, white women with nipples under their jaws, more make-up then some geisha-clown monster, glowing orange from fake tan spray?  There need to be a line!

And you know why these shows are on the air, don’t you?  Because of all the stupid dopes in the world who would rather live life vicariously through the boob-tube than getting on with their own.  Put down the remote and try learning the guitar!  Read a book, or a comic book (preferably Mythoi)!  Walk your dog!  Or, heaven forbid, spend time with your family and friends!  Hey, I know, get a lover and make your own reality show!  Who gives a fluorescent-flying-f*ck about who voted who off of which island, boat or house?!  If you said, “I do,” then I need you to do me a favor:  I want you to hold your breath until everything turns black.

The Emmys has a category for reality TV.  Hollywood has been selling us bullsh*t for quite some time.  I, like many of you, allow myself consumption of said feces when the trade off between my time and the entertainment provided is acceptable.  At some point, we let those bastards sell us pictures of ourselves under the banner of “reality.”  They figured out that they can entertain us without great writing, action or directing (aka $)…  They have only to let us see each other — then they cash their six-figure checks.  And now, the Emmys have a category for reality TV.  It used to be that Hollywood danced when we paid for it.  Now, we (the patrons of television) all stand in a room naked, jerking each other off, letting the cameras catch everything — then we pay Hollywood to see it.  And now, there is a damned category for reality TV at the damned Emmys.

*Sigh.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go check out Superman’s boner.

Mr. Wolff

Good Wednesday everyone!

It’s solicitations time again! That’s right, a monthly Christmas for the eyes has again arriven, which means I get to grace you all with my monthly cover of the month picks. Huzzah!

So, for my favorite big boy cover of the month let me present:

This cover is from DC’s ARKHAM REBORN #3 by Frazier Irving. I’m not normally a big fan of Irving, but this piece really sings. I think its mainly that I greatly enjoy any time I see the jigsaw effect in a comic. The yellow on the occasional piece really pops well.

My favorite little guy cover for this month goes to:

This is MATEKI: THE MAGIC FLUTE by Yoshitaka Amano. Amano’s work is always beautiful and this piece is no exception. This is released by the guys over at Radical comics.

Also, only one week until MYTHOI #1 is released! Be still my beating heart!

One more reminder, Semantink is going to be up at the Long Beach Comic Convention October 2nd-4th, so feel free to find us and chat, we love chats!

Thanks for stopping in all, see you tomorrow!

Good Morning all!

So with Mythoi #1 coming out next week (!!!) I am so ramped up, I can’t really focus on much else. Now, I do not want to bore people with sub-par bloggeration, so, I was hoping you all could help me out with some of your own words (more on that in a second).

I get my comic books and graphic novels from a comic book store, I get my books from a book store, and I get my magazines from 7–11 (I just don’t read many magazines). I like going into my Local comic book store for comics because of the feeling that I get from being there. There is something about the smell of Mylar and longboxes that makes my heart sing.

Lately I have read quite a few articles that predict the end (or at least a great change) for the local comic book store, based on an increase in trade paperback sales (which people could go pick up in Borders), the new set ups at Dis-arvel and DCE now, and the crappy economy. All this is a blog unto itself, which I will probably talk about when I’m not so geeked up about MYTHOI!

This is where you come in dear readers. If you come to this site, you probably have at least a passing enjoyment of the comic book format, so I my question to you folks out there is this: Where do you go for your comics and why do you go there? Please, let me know!

Thanks all, oh, and 1 week until MYTHOI! Woo!

Oh, and since the militant panda picture went over well, here’s something else for you.

Hello all.  Street Fece is developing a whopper of a story othat’s not quite ready yet, so he’s asked me to jump in and write a little something-something to keep his throng of followers occupied until his return.  Unfortunately for you all, that means you get to read me for a bit.  Equally unfortunate for you, I haven’t got a scientific bone in my body and my interest in all things natural ends when I flush a toilet.  So, today we’re going to “geek” out on something that has been a fear of mine since I first saw Sarah Conner in the eighties:  ROBOTS ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD!

We’ve all seen at least one of the Terminator movies, 9, The Matrix, and/or the Short Circuit films, so we know that in the end we’re all going to be stripped for parts by our creations in a technological throwback to Frankenstein.  But what many of you may not know, is that it is getting ready to happen now — as in right now.  All robots need to end us is will, mobility and weapons and we’re all f*cked!  So, without further adue, allow me to introduce the methods of our destruction.

WILL

Let’s start with this little gem from 2001 — yes, 8 f*cking years ago!  A group of deathbringers decided they would fuse tchnology with flesh and gave control of a robot to the brain of an eel!  “The robot is controlled by an immature lamprey eel brain that was removed, kept alive in a special solution and attached to the hockey-puck-sized robot by wires so it can receive signals from the device’s electronic eyes and send commands to move the machine’s wheels.”  This means that robots themselves may not need to have any will, but some pissed off sea creature with all the right connections could go all Al Gore on us all and bring about death and destruction from the comfort of their wet home.  Or worse yet, what if a redneck get’s connected?!  Think about it…

But don’t think for one second that they need us…  Robots are learning just fine on their own.  Yesterday, on the 17th of September, 2009, I ran across this fun little story.  According to the article, a bunch of geeks in California have created a beastly borg that actually learns!  It holds out a rock and says, “Hello, whats is this?”  You say, “WHy hello robot, that’s a rock.”  Then it beats you to death with it.  Well, maybe not yet, but what happens when the learning robot LEARNS that it doesn’t NEED us to survive?  What then?  Does nobody in robot research and development watch movies or read comic books!?  You’re killing us all!

So we’ve got the thinking machine, the one that can hack into our nervous systems, but what about on the spot problem solving?  Well, for that piece of fun, we get this:

A bunch of robots that can, like zords, form together to make whatever they need to kill us all.  Sweet.

MOBILITY

They can RUN, they can JUMP, and as of last year, they have four legs:

This scary bitch not only will chase after you with out needing a break, but if you do try to knock it over, it won’t go anywhere except sideways and then back up in your face to eat it!  And it doesn’t manner when or where you run to, because BIGDOG hunt in ALL SEASONS!

Or how about this little guy, designed to crawl through your body without you ever knowing!  We could all be infested with these guys as you read this and you would never know it.  Yeah.  Awesome.  One night you’ll be sleeping when all of the sudden, a thousand little fly-bots come swarming out of your own ass then connect to form an alternate version of you!  They’ll eat you, and go on pretending to be you — and nobody will know the difference…  Sleep well.

And you don’t need mobility as much when you hide well…  Take the following video for example.  A dutch (it’s always the Dutch…) gas station has a robot hiding in their station to fill up your car.  Sounds nice, huh?  WRONG!  Just wait until your child walks by and the mechanical arm extends to pop off little Timmy’s head thinking it’s a gas cap!  Tell me how nice it is then!

WEAPONS

I’ve always thought that the greatest weapons we’re then sneaky ones.  You know, like knives, daggers, rocks and women?  Don’t laugh!  See this pool-playing borg?  Imagine the stick is a katana blade.  Yeah — instant death.

“Well,” you say, “I’d never let the robot get close enough.”  Oh yeah?  They don’t always look like this:

“Wait, you never saw Terminator?”

Sometimes, they look like this:

You’re cute… Is that a knife? Oh sh*t, run! She’s a T-1000!!

You see, in Japan, they’ve created modeling robots that “are the average woman in Japan.”  Great.  Now the enemy has a way to get close to MANGA fans everywhere…  Actually, is that such a bad thing?

And finally, for you’re viewing pleasure, I give you the four most terrifying robot videos I’ve ever seen.

1.  The Death Hand.

2.  The Flesh Eaters

3. The Snow Pooper (Sorry, you gotta click to see that one)

4. The Death Dealer

Run and Hide.

Filling in for SF,

Mr. Wolff

Happy Friday all!

I didn’t get a chance to give my weekly list this past Monday, so I wanted to rectify that today. Today I woke up and I thought about how fast this year is flying by. It also occurred to me that next year is going to begin a new decade. Wow! That got me thinking back to the 1990’s. While this decade might have been prosperous for our country, it was a dark time for comic books, and the folks who read them. And so, in honor of the 1990’s, my list today is the top ten reasons I’m glad the 90’s are long gone. I know that this might seem like a fish/ barrel kind of thing, but I feel this is a list what needs to be made. So, away we go!

“I keep extra untensils in my pouches in case of a snack emergency!”

1) Pouches Pouches everywhere– In the 1990’s everyone needed pouches. Why? No one knows. I get that the guys carrying around 500 guns needed a great many pouches for ammo, but why did Cyclops need 23 pouches? Did he keep extra visors in them?

The Scarlet Spider– Fighting crime and looking homeless.

2) Clone shennanigans– Oh Spider-man, you were so great, and then your clone came back to haunt you. He made a fool of you, running around in what appeared to be a sweatshirt that even a bum would discard, and peroxided hair. And what did you do? You ran away like a little girl and let hobo-sweatshirt Spidey run the show. 1990’s Spider-man, you sir, were a bitch.

Super dead

Super lame

Super Cateracts

Superfluous

Super sad

3) The many (sad)faces of Superman– When Superman was killed it was sad. I felt like it was the end of an era. When Superman came back as a teenager (secretly a half-clone), a bad-ass who wore old-people sunglasses (secretly a Kryptonian energy thingie who took Supes shape), a cyborg (secretly an old villian who found and replicated dead Super particles) and Steel (not-so-secretly a black guy), I was confused. When Superman turned into Blue lightning I threw up a little. But this?

Super Macgyver Hair!

No one deserves the Super-mullet. No one.

That’s a huge… gun!

4) Someone’s overcompensating– In the 1990’s it was apparently mandate that everyone carry a gun that was three times their own size.

A special “burn this comic before reading” cover!

5) Die-cut Debauchery– If you like die-cut, chromium, triple gatefold, holographic covers, then you love the 1990’s.

“I’m so extreme I fight with boomerangs! BANG-A-RANG BITCHES!”

6) X-tremification– In keeping with the whole pouches/ big gun motif, everyone in comics became a bad-ass in the 1990’s. Worse than that, if you were a character born in the 1990’s, like Adam Extreme (pictured above) you were probably not going to stick around too long, because you were EXTREME! Ungh.

Behold! Chrome-plated trash.

7) The Avengers-No clever title for this one. There isn’t a short way to explain how bad the Avengers became in the 90’s, but I’m going to try. The art was terrible (see above). The stories just kept getting worse. Iron man went crazy and killed people, so the avengers had to go back in time and get young Tony to defeat old Tony, but then young Tony became old Tony… Thor started to look like he owned an S&M club. The Black Knight had a laser sword. The wasp turned into a wasp. I can’t go on, I’m tearing up.

I’d make a joke, but this one is too easy.

Onslaught of the senses– So Magneto got out of line, and Professor X gave him the mental pimp slap. This resulted in the ugliest possible amalgamation of Prof. X and Magneto possible, and wound up killing half of the Marvel universe (for about a year).

The Nutty Professor 3: Captain Clump

Everything that’s wrong with the 90’s all in one cover!

9) Rob Liefeld– The man responsible for making half the things on this list popular, it took 10 years of the Rob before people realized he couldn’t/ wouldn’t draw feet.

Anyone involved in this should be fired.

10) Superpro– One look says it all.

So let’s hear it for the end of this bygone era. Hoorah! If you think that I’m being too hard on this decade, remember, this is the same decade where Kris Kross made it cool to wear your pants backward. Don’t pretend you didn’t do it.

Thanks for stopping by, see you tomorrow!

It’s official:  The new expansion, Cataclysm, is coming.  I played the WoW but quit about a year ago.  Some friends have been asking me, “Mr. Wolff, will you return and explore this new world with us?”  I’ve thought long and hard about my response, each time saying something profound, akin to, “I dunno.”  But I think I finally have my answer and I’m ready to give it to the world:  No.  I will not be playing World of Warcraft ever again because that game is f*cking stupid.

Now, before you level 80s get all bent and start drafting your hate-mail, allow me to explain why you are retarded. I have a logic behind my answer and I’d love to share it with you.  Perhaps, if all goes well, you will read this blog and come to understand the clusterf*ckery of your ways.  Then maybe, just maybe, you too can ween yourself off of the WoW, heal over time and become a functioning member of society once again.  And I’m not talking to the occasional players who have been stuck at level 39 for the last three years of their life and I have no idea what a Death Knight is.  I’m talking to the hardcore bastards who haven’t seen daylight for more than 1 hour a week and only go outside to run their paper routes in the morning in order to pay their monthly fees to the Blizzard gods.  Yeah, you idiots.

“This is my tier 2 virgin suit.”

Reason #1:  Playing World of Warcraft isn’t real.

I know that some of you believe that you are cool for reaching level 80, getting all epic’d out, raiding the highest heroic dungeons and pwning members of opposing factions, but you’re not.  You’re really not.  It may feel good to be somebody online, but that’s only online.  It’s intangible.  It’s not real.  When you badass Taurens go to your 9-5s, sweating under the fluorescent lights at FedEx Kinkos, or whatever brainless job you may have procured, THAT’s the real you.  You’re not tough.  You cannot fly on a griffin.  And you sure as hell can’t sleigh a dragon.  It’s all make-believe.  Fun?  Sure.  But make-believe.

Don’t get me wrong, I thought I was cool when 60 was the cap and I brought down Onyxia.  But when it was over I was left with an empty hole in my chest, wondering, “Now what?”  I have some new gear?  Well, not really — my avatar has some new gear.  All I have is a backache and a pissed off girlfriend* that I could have been naked-wrestling with, were I not trying to kill a collection of pixels in the shape of a dragon.  I could have been having sex, learning guitar, earning money (not gold, I am referring to US dollars here), reading a book (comic or novel, you choose), having sex, or any number of other REAL activities.  I could have been having sex.  Sex. If right now you are thinking that WoW is better than sex, you should smash your head into your laptop because you are a lost cause and are currently wasting air for the rest of us.

*A girlfriend is a woman that chooses to date a man exclusively and every once and a while allows said man to rub flesh with her.

This is real. Too real.

Reason #2:  Their are too many Douchebags online for my tastes.

Near the end of my Warlock career (yes I was a lock in the end, but I also had a lvl 80 warrior, mage and priest), I realized that people who play WoW were assholes.  Not all of them.  Some of you are nice.  But more often than not, you’re all a bunch of dicks.  Every time I would look for a party for an instance there was always the bastard who called out some other poor schmuck for not having good enough gear.  THAT“S WHY HE“S RUNNING THE INSTANCE YOU TWAT!  He’s trying to get better gear, gear that exists in the instance we’re about to run!  These are the guys who blame every wipe on somebody else — it’s never their fault.  “Our healer sucks!”  “The tank can’t hold aggro!”  “DPS isn’t high enough!”  Well, the healer can’t heal you fast enough because you’re tanking in cloth you retarded mage!  The tank can’t hold aggro because your hurling frostbolts before he gets a strike in!  And if the DPS isn’t high enough, I guess you’ll just have to hold aggro an extra second or two, you lazy prick!  Look, I know that in some cases, especially heroic instances, you really do need a group on their a-game, but I’m talking about the pricks who make a scene at the entrance to Hellfire Ramparts because they want to run it in two seconds and get all pissy after one wipe.  It’ll be okay.  This isn’t real.  Go jump off a bridge.

Then there is the snide bastards in chat — holy sh*t.  You are the real pain in my ass.  When a n00b asks for help, give ‘em help.  Don’t get all crass and trash talk them because they don’t know as much as you.  In fact, grovel at their feet because while you were in Azeroth, those n00bs were doing things in the real world that probably advance them socially, intellectually, or physically, far beyond yourself.  Like Mamma Wolf always said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say then STFU!”  In truth, all of you snarky bastards are the ones I hope to meet irl so I can smack the sh*t out of your lippy, zitty, pasty faces.  We all know that you only talk tough in the digital world because in the real world you’re flipping my burgers, and I’m sorry about that, I really am.  But it’s not my fault, nor the n00bs, that you are a loser.  So please, don’t confuse being King Warcraft with being ANYTHING in the real world.  It’s not the same.  You may be a mighty lvl 80 in Wow and a virgin in the real world, but if I unplug your computer, you’re just a virgin.

And I’m the idiot because I can’t a Flight Path somewhere…

Reason #3:  It looks like sh*t.

World of Warcraft is one of the ugliest video games on the market today.  Go ahead, try to argue with that.  When they released it, Blizzard made the game such that OUR computers hold all the data.  What they should have done, was keep the graphics and such data on their end, so that they could upgrade them with time — I believe this is called a cloud server?  If it’s not, I don’t care.  The point is that Blizzard didn’t do it and now we have to rely on expansions to up the ante.  This isn’t the end of the world, but it is an annoyance.  When I play a game with great graphics and then switch over to WoW, I realize just how shoddy the whole thing looks.

I realize that this is one of the weaker complaints I have, but it really does get under my skin.  However, to be fair, a macro  surfaced allowing players to get quite a bit more out of their gaming experience visually, but killing the fun with lagtasticness.  It doesn’t go against my concern because most of us have to choose between gameplay or look — not fair.  In case you missed it from a while back, here’s the how-to:

Reason #4:  I have friends.  Real friends.  Real, human friends that live on Earth.

This is going to depress some of you, but I’m going to go through with it anyways.  I don’t want you to go home and cut yourself, but I do want you to try and socialize with something other than Night/Blood Elves.

Friends are people with whom one shares common interests and enjoys the mutual company.  You may think you have friends in WoW, but those aren’t friends, those are guild members — it’s not the same.  You see, with my friends I can actually see their REAL faces, touch them, hear them and all at the same time!  We can also do things that you can’t do in the World of Warcraft, like: see a movie, go to a concert, play good video games, or maybe just watch some TV.  You die hard WoWers probably don’t have real friends.  You may have acquaintances or people you recognize, but those aren’t friends.  The pizza guy isn’t your friend.  Celebrities you think about when you touch yourself are not your friends.

These are pixels, not friends.

Now, in closing, let me just say that I do not condemn WoW, or WoW players.  I don’t think you’re all stupid, useless bags of flesh, rotting in a pile of your own feces — but most of you are.  Grow up, move out of your mother’s basement, get a real job and try finding a member of the opposite (or same if that floats your boat) sex and try, just try, to discover what people did before Warcraft.  Or just trick yourself into thinking your character has some tangible meaning in life and die — I don’t really care.

Until next time -

Mr. Wolff

PS: Buy Mythoi.  Seriously.  Buy it.