The Broctopus Cometh!

Anyone who knows me will be able to inform you just how important crazy parties are to me.  I just can't get enough of the type of personality who craves masses of barely known people stuffed into small spaces and forced to make surface level communication for no real benefit. (Sarcasm end)

Being social in a healthy way is an odd thing.  I'm considered anti-social to the general public because I don't necessarily enjoy meeting new people.  However from the inside looking out I believe that I just choose who I spend my time with more carefully than others.  It's an odd line that, even in the simple act of recognizing and accepting, separates myself and the like-minded apart from many others.

With age, however, comes acceptance and a certain level of apathy in changing our basic natures.  It may not necessarily be comfort with oneself, but perhaps to a certain degree it's not wanting to go through the effort to change and become like 'insert whatever here'.  No matter how you reach it, if at all, the realization is fascinating.  The older one gets, the more unique in their quirks and ideas than when they were younger and taught a correct way and an incorrect way to do or process things.

And we're back.  That rabbit-hole wasn't all that deep, was it?  I think we got back out with everyone who went in, but either way this week's chugging along.  Keep in there, another weekend's right around the bend.

Punch it, Chewie!

With The Power Of Hugs!

Lately, maybe even more so than normal, comics have been in my life.  Thus the idea of match-ups and several "who would win between" spontaneous conversations have been cropping up, and it got me thinking about the nature of comic books.

It's not to their benefit to make a well-adjusted, nonviolent character and place them in a world of drunken bar fights with lasers shooting from eye sockets.  It just wouldn't compute for their younger demographic, who's only just beginning to learn about all the new crazy chemicals getting pumped into their bloodstream.  As those youngsters age, it's especially important not to try and get all peace-y or else you run the risk of damaging their childhood memories and losing a customer.  Art for profit, it's an interesting business.

I think we're going to do it.  We've been avoiding it or waiting for the right time, but I think the day has dawned.  We at the Manor need to watch the next season of Dexter.  I have to admit I've been less than awe-struck by the past two seasons.  I'm feeling comfortable in this world where it's normal for a man to be a scientific investigator and a sociopath all rolled into one.  Perhaps that's the problem, though.  The novelty of the man who kills because he has to, but uses a code to keep from completely losing his chance at redemption, is wearing off.  I'm holding on to hope that this season is redeeming in itself and makes me anxious for more.  I hear that's how entertainers are supposed to leave me.

Anyways, that's it for this week.  Enjoy MLKJ day next week, and especially enjoy it if you're fortunate enough to be off work or other responsibilities.

Punch it, Chewie!

The Boy Who Cried Ding!

It's not hard to understand why my better half wouldn't necessarily love everything that I get into.  Around the manor, there are a lot of conversations about new shows or what's happening in comics or how I'm doing in my gaming.

Not all of these conversations have two willing participants in them.

The fact that the Lady of the Estate even knows half of the things I'm geeking out on at any given moment is a true testament to her ability to listen and care for other people.  If I were a more cynical person, I would rationalize this away as my helping her be a better listener by constantly bombarding her ear canals with nerd noise. Luckily, my tenuous grip on reality allows brief moments of clarity wherein I can make it known how much I appreciate her indulging the qualities that drive me to do things like create a blog or catalog all of my comic books.

We'll keep this short, and hopefully sweet.  The world's still here, so those Mayans are wrong so far and we can't ignore our alarm clocks yet.

Punch it, Chewie!

The C-Section Of An Idea

Ever try to force an idea? Sit down and say "alright, it's time to start thinking"?  Well, it just plain old won't work out for you.  Unless you're some kind of robot or monster.  Are you a robot or a monster?

In keeping with tonight's brevity, I'll just leave you all with my short review of the first entry in the upcoming Avengers vs. X-Men event Marvel Comics will be putting out in April.  Cable comes back and rips the Avengers a new one, convinced that his adopted daughter will be hurt by them at some point in the future.  Cap and Cable square off in a predictably stalemated fight, but there is some really amazing art throughout.  If it's any indication of the flagship title for the event, I think it's going to be a good summer.

Alright, enjoy your weekends and we'll see you back out there for the next one.

Punch it, Chewie!

A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Comic

Starting the new year right, posting a day late.  Other than that, revelry and celebration was great over the weekend.  The only thing I'd have changed would be the voice-ending sore throat I endured (hopefully with grace).

As far as New Year's Eves go, this one was a lot of fun, but didn't really leave the import of the last year on earth sort-of feeling that those rascally Mayans potentially foretold.  More likely that they just stopped counting or ran out of space on their calendar, but let's leave the conspiracy theorists with a reason to build those bunkers in their backyards.  The supplies those insane hermits purchase will only help bring back the economy from whatever sappy romantic comedy-esque mood it's been in the past few years.

In movie news, I was finally able to see Captain America: The First Avenger again over the weekend, and it was much improved from the original version I saw in the theater.  Since it was in 3D, and the projectionist must have seen the flick countless times since the premiere, they didn't bother to check that the blurry image they were seeing sans-ridiculous 3D glasses was in focus, thus as a group we all developed headaches trying to focus on the awesome action.  As a movie, I'd give it a solid B+, but since it's the first time that one of my personal heroes has been portrayed so lovingly it gets a boost up a bit in my books. 

Regardless, a good time was had by all and now we're back to the grind.  Huzzah and sally forth!

Punch it, Chewie!