As always I am late with my C2E2 post… a lot late. Late to the point of not posting this. Although, technically I’m super early for C2E2 2015! So, it’s my postview preview of future C2E2 2015!
So, why no posts? I’m still recovering actually do to a combination of walking, germs, junk food, and walking. Pro tip: don’t double fist churros. Or do.
Bellyache + flu * baby / laziness = not much writing (Also, diarrhea but perhaps I’ve shared too much)
This year's C2E2 was fun, as always, and is in my seldom humble opinion the best Chicago convention yet it wasn’t as appealing as years past. Mostly, I think it was because the roster was so wrestler heavy. I understand the logic behind it, there’s a good-sized overlap between comic book fans and wrestling fans. It’s similar but almost opposite of the horror films to wrestler fan contingent. Strange how our circles run.
This feels like a classic Wolf Gnard’s Venn diagram… no.
Also, at the current rate wrestlers are dying (due to a combination of steroids, body damage, hard drugs, hard living, tanning for some reason, and green house gasses), wrestlers could become extinct by 2018. And that’s a conservative estimate. Now is the time to rassle.
- A lot of Harley Quinns and Harley Quinns & Poison Ivies – which is to be expected, I’m sure, it just seemed like an overly high percentage.
- There were like 5 different Iron Men. Do you build these suits, do you buy them?
- So many goddamn Red Hoods… and I’m going to say it, I’ll be dead in the cold, cold ground before I recognize a living Jason Todd. There’s a reason no one parts their hair in the middle anymore. If I'm going to take my time to call a 1-800 number to kill a comic book character then they better stay dead.
Onward to pictures...
Brilliant Death Star cosplay... and this is the same woman who dressed as the Up house. Meaning her thing is to dress up as pop culture buildings and as things go, I approve. May I suggest the Fortress of Solitude?
However, one thing did make C2E2 well worth it… and that’s, of course, Stan “The Man” Lee.
Too many wrestlers doesn’t matter because Stan “The Man” Lee. Super late post don’t matter because Stan “The Man” Lee. There is a finite number of Stan Lee photo ops left in this world, so when the opportunity comes up, you have to take them. My only issue was that right before the picture they ran through a laundry list of things that you can’t do with Stan. You can't touch Stan. You can't stand too close to Stan. You can't breath on Stan. All of which I understand because he's getting too old for our shenanigans, but it terrified me. I couldn’t even look at him because I was so scared my glance would break him in two.
Some pictures by Hey!Look Behind You! (Note: I did stand next to her while she took a lot of these pictures, so that should count for something)
The inner workings of superheroes can be a weird and wonderful thing. I'm not talking about what makes Batman cry or why Iron Man attends AA meetings (though both are interesting). This is more anatomical like how come Spider-Man’s web spinners aren’t in his ass? Or why does Power Girl have a boob hole? And while much has already been said about Captain America’s build (i.e. his chest that is nearly 6 times the size of his head), the eternal question remains: how much does Captain America poop?
Or, at least, I question it.
According to the 2011 movie, Captain America’s metabolism burns 4 times faster than that of the average person’s. This is why he can’t get drunk anymore and presumably how he survived in a block of ice for over 60 years. So, if he’s burning that much energy, this means he has to replace that energy with something. Most humans do it with food, so how many calories does that mean he has to eat in a single day? Or in oily abs terms, how much Muscle Milk does Cap’n America even have to guzzle, brah? And what does eating all those calories mean to his digestive system?
At 4 times the metabolic rate, Steve Rogers has to eat 4 times the average amount of calories per day. So, if the average is 2000 calories, Rogers needs to eat around 8000 calories. Which is actually 4000 calories less than Michael Phelps… fatty.
Or in other terms:
Or 80 Cartons of Muscle Milk
Or 127 Raw Eggs
But What about his Morning Craptain!?
If this is what Captain America intakes, what exactly does this mean for his output? Metabolism and digestion are unrelated. So, while Steve Rogers has to drink 80 Muscle Milks a day, we still have no idea how many trips to the bathroom this ends up being. There are two distinct possibilities though: either 1) his digestive system is as ramped up as he is, or 2) he has a normal digestive system.
If he has equally superpowered digestion and his bodily waste is processed at a higher rate then Captain America would have to poo between 4 and 12 of times per day (the average is between 3 times a day and once per three days, depending on the person and their diet), and these would be average sized stools. Let’s say 8 medium poops per day. So much like Hydra’s motto: if one head is cut off, two more will take its place.
However, if his digestive rate is normal, but his metabolism is increased up to superhuman proportions we may find Captain America poos once a day, but it’s an unholy poo. Those 8000 calories will all get displaced in one teeth grinding sitting. However, stool size is really more dependent on diet than the number of calories, so it’s more important in what he eats than how much he eats of it. If Captain America, for example, has a 1940’s diet of steak and potatoes every meal then this could be more like once every three days or once week! Given the weight of meat & potatoes and assuming that a normal human expels 50% of that weight and he goes to the bathroom no more than once every 3 days then that’s a 12 and half pound turd! Excelsior!
All of this is hypothetical, of course, the only certainty is that you don’t ever want to use the bathroom after Michael Phelps.
Simple math would say that combining Jean-Claude Van Damme with a Jean-Claude Van Damme yields two Van Dammes, but not so says the Law of Diminishing Van Dammes. The law states that as you increase the number of Van Dammes in any environment, the tolerance of Van Dammes decreases.
Not to sound bias but two things you should know about me: I love full splits and I love bad accents. Yet there’s a ceiling, and it’s a relatively low ceiling of how much I can handle seeing Jean-Claude Van Damme. I wish the world could handle more, but it cannot.
He’s just been in one commercial after another recently:
Van Damme Coors Light Commercial
Van Damme GoDaddy Commercial
Van Damme Volvo Commercial
These are all great commercials, too, and on their own they’re wonderful. The concepts are good and he’s good in them. These commercials make him seem like not a coked out lunatic (legally you see I specifically just said that he is not a coked out lunatic). However, when viewed together they become less wonderful.
It’s like running into an old friend: which can be great. Then having to talk to that old friend about their job and/or kids and/or nerd blog: which can be less great. Then running into them the next day: which is now terrible.
Go away “old friend.” *Footnote
With another Olympics behind us, much has been made of the decline in US figure skating. Everything from lack of competition, racism, and/or a change in the scoring system has been mentioned. To which I only have to say that a pipe to the knee never helped no one, Michelle Kwan, and everyone else is being scored in the same system.
The real reason figure skating has been down is because of the sharp decline in The Cutting Edge viewings.
Note: The dip in 1994 was most likely caused by our focus on the Nancy Kerrigan/Tonya Harding scandel when it should have been on reruns of The Cutting Edge.
This past Olympics I caught The Cutting Edge on TV once… once! For me to be in the proper frame of mind for figure skating, I need to be thoroughly brainwashed by a will they/ won’t they, opposites attract kind of love story. And I need more than one viewing to do this. There was a time when The Cutting Edge flowed on TBS every hour on the hour. It has all but been replaced by endless reruns of The Big Bang Theory, which has demonstrated no discernible correlation to gold medal or taste or humor.
It’s not lack of desire or training that’s hurting today's figure skaters, it’s a lack of D.B. Sweeney. A top skater needs to figure out that it’s not about classical music or rock and roll, but some sort of compromise of a generic jazz song (?) that you don’t need to pay licensing rights for, that’s what’s important. That’s what wins Olympics.
Lessons from The Cutting Edge
- The importance of toe picks
- To appreciate the smell of the ice
- Form or precision doesn’t matter, what matters is blurry jump cuts that may or may not be actual skating on ice
- It doesn’t matter if you’re blinded in one eye or you’ve alienated every person in figure skating, there’s always the next Olympics
- A 31-year-old guy and a 24-year-old women are not over the hill for championship level pairs figure skating
If you’re not going to show The Cutting Edge, at least, give me some Cool Runnings or Mighty Ducks 2.
City Cyclops proves it ain't easy being Miles O'Brien.
Also, this is exactly what I imagine when I imagine Tasha Yar in a thong.
Although, if I could make three changes to my job I would:
- Be in a room by myself
- Whittle all my responsibility down to pushing a single button
- Be called Chief (Boss is also acceptable)
Weird and very well done, it probably could have been edited down to a tight 3 minutes from its 4 and half hour run time though. And where was Bill Murray!? I think I saw a digital Wayne Knight, but no Bill Murray... come on!
The JeffRubinJeffRubin@JeffRubinJeffRubin.com made this video about The Simpsons in different languages (The Monorail song is worth it):
I come from a world where Professor Charles Xavier is considered a “good guy.” Yes, he amassed a personal army with a jet and enough firepower to blow up Wisconsin. But he had a good reason… he… um… had a tiff with his best friend. So, there was that. Also, the government did have an actual anti-mutant agenda. So, maybe, it’s not an insane idea to be prepared. Still what separates Professor X and the X-men from any other extremist paramilitary group?
When Kitty Pryde famously said, “Professor X is a Jerk,” it was because Xavier wanted to transfer/demote her to the less dangerous, more age appropriate New Mutants. By the end of the comic, everything is all better: Kitty is back on the X-Men, she befriends a magical dragon, and everything is alright. But is Professor X a Jerk? Before we go into this, let me first add that there’s something wrong with any teacher who wants to be called by an initial. I want a mutant teacher will will teach me to control my eye blasts, not a bud who will let me smoke and sneak me drinks at mutant prom. Maybe, a reasonable decision would have been to follow through and not put a teenage girl in harm’s way and, maybe, not let her keep a dragon which you have little to no knowledge of.
Back to the jerkiness: there’s lots of lists depicting the various ways Professor X has been a dick in the comics. I mean tons. Like so many. I mean so many that why am I even writing this? But my primary issue has become Patrick Stewart’s film version.
To be honest, most of my Professor X memories come from the 90’s animated series. Which featured an even more watered down, always-does-the-right-thing sort of Professor X than the comics did. Each week the lesson was WWPXD: What Would Professor X Do? He was a little like a mutant Mr. Miyagi, but not the hard partying Mr. Miyagi of Karate Kid Part I, but the emasculated Hilary Swank Mr. Miyagi who was less sexualized (if that’s possible) and 10% more Jesus (I’m fairly certain Mr. Miyagi walked on water in that final film [And no, Jaden, I don't count your "movie" as a Karate Kid film]).
So, using that as my base and watching the movies, there seems to be a running theme in terms of dickishness, i.e. Professor X has become a bit of dick. The thing with the X-men and Wolverine films is that it seems that each movie is written without ever watching the movie before it. Or, maybe, they just let Professor X be as a bad as he want to be because they cast the always lovable Patrick Stewart in the roll.