In Defense Of Justin Bieber
It’s the eyebrows, I think, that really send people over the edge about Justin Bieber. He’s locked them in a position of permanent surprise, like everything he’s seeing – from screaming teens to Brazilian prostitutes – has left him dumbfounded. It’s an infuriating expression, one seen on club-bound bros and Jaden Smith, and they transform his already-punchable face into a neon sign flashing the words “PUNCH HERE. PUNCH HERE AND PUNCH HARD AND NOT EVEN THE MOST VENGEFUL JURY WITH THE HANGINGEST JUDGE IN THE DEEPEST DARKEST PART OF TEXAS WILL CONVICT YOU.” Credit to the lawyers at his recent
Ninja Blues
There’s a new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie coming out. I’m not here to savage the thing. That’s the work of countless, more predictable others. I am here, though, to explain why I ever liked the goofy comics in the first place. Partly because Unwinnable’s boss man so flippantly dismissed ‘em. He’s totally right, though.
Hellboy and the Right Hook of Doom
The first time I came across Hellboy was after a particularly nasty winter storm on a Saturday afternoon in February of 1994. The New York Comic Book Spectacular was being held at at the Javitz Center despite the cruddy weather. Dark Horse Comics was showing off their Legend imprint. Legend was an umbrella for creator owned comics that featured Frank Miller’s Sin City, Miller and Dave Gibbon’s Martha Washington Goes to War, John Byrne’s Next Men, Paul Chadwick’s Concrete, and the debut of Mike Mignola’s Hellboy. See, I went to the show to get John Byrne to sign some X-Men
