Holy Last Regular Season Game… What’s Your Name Again?

As with every other Wednesday since this site’s launch, we must now end our broadcast day. Not just because of the comics, of which we have plenty…

…but because the Boston Red Sox are battling for a berth in the post-season against the Orioles, who are battling for a berth for being the douchebags who kept the Sox out of the playoffs.

But look at those books: the last of the New 52 including Geoff Johns’ Aquaman, All-Star Western, Superman, and Justice League Dark, which Amanda is just ITCHING for.

Plus, Yep: That’s Frank Miller’s Holy Terror, which we paid 30 dollars American (or for our overseas readers: 927,539 Euros) for what appears to be a Dr. Seuss-length treatise on How To Kick Mohammed’s Chosen In The Taint. And we WILL be reviewing it. Once Ortiz’s at-bat is over.

See you tomorrow, suckers!

Fairness Doctrine

And as always, it is Wednesday, and this…

…signals the conclusion of our broadcast day. For the past couple weeks we’ve featured the week’s New 52 releases – and yes, all 13 of this week’s are in that pile – but it seemed like a good time to take a step back and prove that those aren’t all that we read (I also read hardcore pornography! For the articles! Like when she screams “Aa!”).

Tune in throughout the week as we review the best and worst of this week’s new comics… And yes – at the top left you’re seeing the new Marv Wolfman and George Perez retro Teen Titans graphic novel Games. Is the hardcover-only release worth the 25 clams? Shit, we don’t know! Let us sober up, read it and get back to you!

See you tomorrow, suckers!

Can’t Think of A Title, So: GIANT-SIZED MAN-THING

Hi, and welcome to to Crisis On Infinite Midlives!

We’d like to tell you that Crisis on Infinite Midlives is the hottest, most exciting and comprehensive new comic book and geek culture related site on the Internet, but we think that if you’ll just take a look around you’ll discover for yourself that it actually and truly is a weird little vanity project that we idly came up with while drinking heavily one evening in late July at the San Diego Comic-Con.

“Why’s there so much fuss over the San Diego Batgirl?” one of us muttered while reaching for a beverage, “We were at that panel; she asked a leading question, tried to derail a perfectly good discussion about the New 52, and was treated with far more courtesy than I would have been if I grabbed the mike and shrieked at Dan Didio that I wanted my two bucks back from when I called the 900-number to kill the Jason Todd Robin.”

“Yeah,” the other one of us said, “I’d have respected her more if instead of using weird arguments and trying to gin up a lynch mob, she’d just have had the strength of character to call those guys sexist dicks. And then maybe scream ‘Baba Booey!'”

“But everyone on the Internet’s being so Goddamned serious over what amounts to a live-action troll. Why isn’t anyone just saying that the woman was irritating and distracting in front of 500 paying comic book fans?”

DING.

A couple months of planning (TRANSLATION: Many mornings of saying “Jesus, am I hung over. Did we talk about starting a comics Web site last night?” wrapped in a grand total of about six hours of buying a domain name and three hours trying to ramfeed a microphone meant for performing stand-up comedy into a USB hub… which come to think of it is probably it’s own weird Japanese techno fuck fetish, and which would be a much easier Web site to run), and here you have it… whatever “it” is.

Welcome True Believers (And Those Who Brought More Beer)!

About 42 days ago, Rob and I were sitting in the bar of the Manchester Grand Hyatt in San Diego. Comic Con had just rolled up its tents and was packing off. We were getting drunk. Rob was getting agitated. These two things are pretty normal for us. However, Rob was also pretty fixated on confronting Dan Didio to ask for his two dollars back. He spent those two dollars on a phone poll over killing Jason Todd in 1988 and, ever since DC brought back the little shit in 2005, Rob has been nursing a whole heartful of hate. He’d been looking forward to Didio’s usual Sunday panel on “Why We Love Comics” and was hoping to take a shot at asking the man about it there. However there was no “Why We Love Comics” panel this year; instead the only shot at Didio was another in a lengthy series of “The New 52” panels. So, now I worried that, should we have a Didio sighting in the Hyatt lobby, Rob would chase after him like the paper boy that dogs John Cusack in “Better Off Dead”: “TWOOOOOO DOLLAAAARS!”

He was pretty worked up.

In any event, we had no Dan Didio sighting – which was probably a good thing. I enjoy not having a police record in the state of California. I’m pretty sure Rob does, too. So, we sat there and continued to pour overpriced libations down our heads and almost, but not quite, began to not notice that the bar at the Manchester Grand Hyatt was entirely too classy for the likes of us. We also started to talk about comic books.