The King Has Returned

Guys, if you haven’t seen Black Panther yet, it’s pretty good (actually excellent). If you stay until the end, there’s even a glimpse of what I’m guessing is a scene from Avengers: Infinity War…but only because Marvel has done that before (Captain America punching the bag).


I mean, sure, there aren’t any musical numbers that’ll be stuck in your head days later like if you went and saw The Greatest Showman and while Andy Serkis reprises his role, it’s not as Gollum. Not as much of a letdown as Watson running around without Holmes, but I’m hoping Marvel will bring Freeman and Cumberbatch together soon.

However, the city of Wakanda truly shines in Black Panther. Not just for it’s technological splendor, though that is something reminiscent of Blade Runner, but for the excellent way it blends the five African tribes living within the country’s border together.

Plus, we get to see the Black Panther in some pretty awesome fight scenes and with a new suit.

*Spoiler alert* apparently vibranium isn’t only good for making shields that bounce off walls and bulletproof underpants.

The movie pits the new king, T’Challa, and his country’s isolationist policies against the idea that Wakanda could and should do more.

As a hero, Black Panther fights for Wakanda, keeping it safe. But should he fight for the common good? Should Wakanda’s resources and incredible technological advances help the world? Wakanda has thrived because of it’s obscurity yet some of its denizens want to do more than watch as the outside world burns.

Instead of building a wall, T’Challa must decide if extending a hand in aid isn’t the better way.

Oh! and, obviously, there’s a villain to defeat.

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Welp, It’s Here Again (Almost)

Tomorrow is Mardi Gras. We run around chasing beads on string instead of dollars in the air. We stuff our faces with everything we can get our hands because, why not? The day after, we can’t have fun, can’t make merry, can’t drink, eat meat, have more than two meals every Friday, or talk too loud.

Now is the winter of our discontent.

That selfish time of year when we run through the streets proclaiming, “I can’t eat meat! I gave up pop!” No one cares. Lent has become this cliché, just like New Year’s resolutions. I guess I’m just tired of it. Or I don’t want to give up dessert.

I suppose the prospect of a lack of sugary goodness for 40 days fills me with dread [and not the good kind (there’s a good kind?)]. {Like all the Dems (and Trump) felt when the Rs nominated Trump as their candidate}

Lent begins in the middle of the Olympics. Those poor athletes competing on Tuesday. At least it’s the Winter Games and no one has to go swimming after eating 2+ paçzki. Though I don’t envy anyone doing anything more than lying on the couch stuffing their face on Tuesday, Olympians give us a goal to shoot for: stay healthy, active, and strong and you can do anything.

Well, 1 out of 3 ain’t bad. Too bad I’m lazy and weak.

Lent is a lot like me. People dread it’s arrival, are glad when it’s gone, and don’t really talk about it except in whispers. Wait, that’s not like me at all. That’s more like Vold–(don’t say his name!), sorry, the Dark Lord {Sideous?}…let’s just agree to call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named [fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself]. Fine. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Everyone happy? No. Perfect. It really is like a Friday in Lent.

I’m just glad it ends on April Fool’s Day…or does it? April Fools! (Wow, that was lame [at least I didn’t write a whole post about it…but, I still could {please don’t [yeah, even my mom would stop reading if I did that]}])

I hope you enjoy too many paçzki tomorrow, give up something worthwhile in Lent and stick to it, and enjoy a few Fish Fries.

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Super Bowl and Marvel

So, I guess a sports thing happened last night. Superbowl Lie. Everyone thought it’d go one way, but it went another. I’m not going to spoil it for you if you haven’t seen it yet (you’re welcome), but it was a close one. Now, I suppose we can move on with our meaningless, consumer-driven lives.

Whatever that looks like.

For me, that’s waiting for Black Panther. Or, Lent. Both are the same week. Sorry, Valentine’s Day, you’re taking a backseat this year (how’s that different from every year? too soon?).

It looks like there’s a new king of Marvel.

It’s far from meaningless. It’s all leading up to Infinity War.

But, that’s not until May. You can make it. It’s only a few days. It’s not that long. I just keep telling myself that. Over and over. Soon enough, May will arrive and I’ll stop saying it and sit in the theater in awe.

And don’t forget, Ant-Man and The Wasp. It’ll be a great 2018.

The only question remaining is which of these, if any, will break cinema records?

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Superheroics Missed

So, the other day I avoided a chance to become a superhero [you’re welcome, Mom]. My mom alerted me to a bank robbery/hostage situation near me [so, clearly she wanted me to intervene (um, her name isn’t Martha)], but my better judgement I was busy that night and couldn’t rush out to save the day.

Honestly, who robs a bank these days? Except in movies. At least don’t choose the one closest to the police station.

…But, I digress.

The real problem is that I haven’t spent enough time planning my superhero outfit. Sure, I might be honing my skills with a bow, but just because I can shoot doesn’t mean I’m Hawkeye. Where does he get those fancy arrows? I can’t find them on Amazon.

No automatic alt text available.

Not all the holes are mine.

The costume makes the hero. At least, that’s what Tony Stark tells me. The wrong outfit doesn’t inspire fear in villains. At best, it conceals your identity, at worst, you fell your foes with laughter (at your expense). Win-win?

But, it takes time to craft a finely fitting costume. One that is both functional and will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. Not all of us have the disposable income of Bruce Wayne. And my mom only gave me the warning as the crime was in progress.

I let my superhero dream slip away one more day. But, at least my mom isn’t up nights worrying what her little boy is doing on the streets.

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New Year’s Resolutions?

Welp, here we are a brand new year. Out with the old, right? No matter how good or how terrible 2017 was, it’s gone, over now. You made it to 2018. Personally, I’m still waiting for self-lacing shoes.

Are you looking forward to a blank slate? Did you ring in the new year with excitement or trepidation? Either way, there’s no stopping the slow march of time.

New year, new day, new you, new way. There’s plenty of things to make 2018 great. You are in charge of where you will go and what you will do.

And, obviously, this is the time of the year when everyone makes a resolution or two (and only keeps them for a month). Last year I wanted to become like Captain America… unfortunately, finding a super soldier serum proved more challenging than expected. This year, I think I’ll set a nice easy resolution: take more naps. Shouldn’t be too difficult, after all, if I’m in charge of my couch, I can lay on it whenever I’m near it.

I think a nice relaxing year is in order. Or a month. However long I can maintain my willpower to continue such a strenuous resolution.

I’m not really sure what’ll happen in 2018. The start of the year is always bright-eyed, filled with hope, and (cold) full of potential. There’s almost too much time to make use of. How can I possibly use 365 days responsibly?

That’s not going to happen.

I’ll just hope for the best. It’s a brand new year and the possibilities are endless. I’m exhausted just thinking about what 2018 might have in store for me. Time to take a nap. The first of the new year.

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