Brain Bleach – Furby Edition

Ok, so I meant to actually write a couple reviews and post them in a somewhat timely fashion today. Clearly, that didn’t happen. I could blame the change back to Standard Time, my vodka induced hangover from last night or my generally poor work ethic, but…meh. Hopefully, I’ll be less damaged and more productive tomorrow. In the meantime, via The Laughing Squid, here’s a Furby trying to make itself understood by Siri. Now, I’m going to go kill this vodka hangover with Scotch.

The Man of Tomorrow, Tomorrow: Action Comics #3 Review

EDITOR’S NOTE: Yes, it’s Superman! Strange visitor from another planet! With spoilers and ruined story notes far beyond those of mortal men!

I was initially skeptical about Grant Morrison’s take on the new early days of Superman in Action Comics – the only attractive thing about an urban hipster blogger with a mad-on for corporations and a Justin Beiber haircut is that when he’s also Superman you won’t do any time if you hit him in his John Lennon glasses with a fucking pipe.

And truthfully, the concept of a Superman who takes on slumlords and capitalists is a wonderful idea, provided it’s 1939 and nobody’s invented Brainiac yet. Even a partially-depowered Superman against, say, a CEO is like deploying a fuel-air bomb against Cookie Monster. As a power fantasy for the unemployed it might be fun, but from a storytelling standpoint, it presents the same problems as a 12 to 2 Red Sox / Brewers blowout: fun, but sure as hell not exciting. Particularly when you stop for a second and realize that you can kill your average American CEO by putting a plate of prime rib at the top of a flight of stairs.

It turns out that Morrison seems to realize this, so in just a couple of issues, we’ve transitioned from Superman as hippie anarchist to Superman as fuckup.