DaveB
Name: David B
Bio: I collected a few back in my day, then became overly discriminating of artwork and storylines and prices. Nowadays I lament the rapine of my childhood's heroes and collect the occasional graphic novel collection. Honestly, I await the day we get a decent digital media that will let me read comics at my leisure without having to collect and/or trash hundreds of magazines.
Reviews
All reviews by DaveB
Maybe they'll get Britney Spears to play Buffy!
Old joke for the JW Buffy fans. (But it's the name I'm going to use for my next City of Heroes character!)
They have a writer, no director, and they're in Hollywood. Chances of filming frame one of any film at all at this point are probably less than 5%.
They should go ask that girl from the Scooby Doo movie what she thinks about the idea.
Jim, you're like the Roger Ebert of comic books. In a good way. And more entertaining.
I say he didn't die; he teleported a clone of himself into that arm. It's about time he found some heretofore unknown abilities. I mean, he never got the 'power corrupts; absolute blah blah blah' treatment, did he?
Someone mentioned this to me a while ago... possibly you, even. So I made the mistake of looking it up on Wikipedia. The recap was mesmerizing, I couldn't hardly wait to read the next paragraph's summary of 4 comic books. I zoomed through it, and as I went, I was continually more and more horrified. Thre paragraphs in and I knew there was no way I was ever going to read this series, ever.
If I want to read about people being evil I'll pick up a newspaper and look for police reports. Otherwise, I prefer my evil rose tinted with a little unbelievability. Devourers of worlds, say, rather than next door neighbors. Or at least if they're going to eat the Jones then they should be dead and brainless.
One damn reference to Robert Louis Stevenson and you put everything in perspective again. How is one to retain his righteous indignation in the face of that? Or youthful excitement?
Not to kvetch, but it wasn't the rapine that did him in, so to speak. It was the cannabalistic afters. The key was the stains showing up on the dining room table cloth, as I recall.
At least Alan Moore had the, er, good taste, to wait until Mr. Stevenson had shuffled off his mortal coil. Possibly until his legacy had passed into the public domain. Hm. Perhaps we should all be a little more irritated with Mr. Moore, on Mr. Stevenson's behalf and our own.
Maybe Mr. Moore's just hoping Hollywood will wait a half-a-mo until he dies.