This is all I’m gonna say about Iran. Everyone else and their mother is and I fucking hate talking about politics because it’s like pounding sand down a gopher hole…gets you nowhere. I know that makes me seem like an apatheic dick, but whatever, I hate Hiram fucking Monserrate too. I applaud all those who are dedicated to tracking the bullshit going on over there on both sides of the American political spectrum, you’re way freakin’ smarter than me. My hopes and online media resources go out to the supporters of democracy and non-craziness over there, and that hopefully the truth is revealed. Everyone out there marching in the streets, which is totally against the law there, is braver than I could ever write. Good luck, the eyes of the world are on you.
I don’t want to talk about Captain fucking America any more, either. At least unless I absolutely have to. I knew it was coming, but hoped that Marvel would have like a fucking ounce of sense. It was idealistic of me to think so because Ed Brubaker’s a fantastic writer who totally had me stoked about a title I thought I’d never put too much interest in, but that’s how I roll. Look out for Reborn this July if you’re the kind who thinks Big 2 events are all that matter in comics. I made my decision to call Bucky Barnes my Cap, because that’s when I finally cared about Captain America as a character in comics. If you don’t, fine, whatever, I could care less what you do in your sordid spare time to your long boxes.