From a rather bland story called “Grounded” in Superman #700, in which a woman pushes through a crowd to slap Supes in the face for (seriously) being off-planet and not knowing that he should have saved her husband’s inoperable brain tumor with his x-ray vision and heat vision.
Then he like stops flying and starts walking, or something.
Happy Scott Pilgrim day! The sixth and final installment of the series is released today, so I’m rerunning this post from last February, when I first discovered the glory of the SP. Enjoy!
(Originally posted Feb. 27, 2009)
Here’s the video for the song “Scott Pilgrim” by Plumtree that inspired the graphic novel/Canadian manga of the same name.It’s also being turned into a movie starring George Michael and being directed by Edgar Wright, one of the Britelects (that’s Brits+intellects, fyi) behind Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz and the terribly clever show Spaced.
I started reading the Scott Pilgrim books this week and have been devouring them at a rate of two/day since. They were blown into my room on the winds of rave recommendations from the roommates, all who have been singing the series’ praises since I moved it. They’re great little books, irreverent and funny and cute, full of a thousand geek references to old-school Nintendo and comics to make every fangirl or boy feel happy to be part of a bigger creative world (Scott’s band’s name in the book, for
Scott Pilgrim Vol. 4
instance, is “Sex Bob-Omb.” When someone asks if Scott and Romona are an item, he visualizes a mushroom, a star and a flower.) They also manage to capture, in doe-eyed, exasperated excitement manga-style, the wandering, confused, sometimes shiftless generational malaise that can haunt the years in the mid-20s when everyone is scouring for direction and meaning in a post-college world. Or at least, I, um, can connect with that.
Plus it dabbles in (or outright states) the dangerous nature of modern relationships and the perils of emotional baggage that can chase after you, sometimes with a gigantic freaking hammer or psychic vegan powers. Roommate Charlie met the author at Comic-Con and has a signed copy of Vol. 4, plus the special holographic cover version of Vol. 5.
Ramona Flowers
Also, I’m madly in love with Ramona V. Flowers. Ok, she’s a cartoon, and fiction, but I couldn’t help looking around Brooklyn all week long for a real life version approximation. And, no joke, as I’m writing this, a girl who looks pretty damned close came into the coffee shop and sat two tables away.
I probably won’t get up the courage to talk to her. If only I had psychic vegan powers.
Peter Parker and Aunt May, from the Amazing Spider-Man #599 (Marvel Comics Sept. 2009)
1. Would it have been less painful, May? Would it? At least they didn’t say the word that rhymes with “leet”
2. Internet classes! LULZZ @OldPeople
There’s a very long blog post to be written about how comic book newspapers are somehow still surviving amid the industry’s decline, but that will have to come later. One simple theory: the way to keep your newspaper in the black is to unknowingly hire a superhero and promise readers non-stop exclusive coverage of their escapades. Except I guess Spider-Man is already scooping them.
And what about Clark Kent? That poor old fashioned country boy never stood a chance against the changing technology:
[Thanks, of course, to @Chozzles for keeping our apartment buried under an avalanche of comics at all times, ensuring that the only even semi-productive work I get done on a Tuesday is to blog about the comic book I just read.]
Inverted Soapbox 