En los ochentas Batman no mataba a sus enemigos, de la misma manera se conserva el personaje hoy en día. La diferencia principal es que en esa época si algún villano moría por otra circunstancia él no lo detenía y eso era justicia. Esta es una página de la novela gráfica Batman: Son of the Demon (1987) en la cual se ilustra dicho punto.
She’s soft and warm and almost weightless. Her perfume a sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. I tell her that everything will be all right. That I’ll save her from whatever she’s scared of and take her far, far away. I tell her I love her. The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she’s gone. I’ll never know what she was running from. I’ll cash her check in the morning.
In the end, it’s the fallout that gets you. Into every life, a few bombs must fall… failure, misery, heartbreak… but even an ordinary Joe can survive an explosion or two. The thing that kills you is what comes next. Fallout. It’s the slow descent of all the unstable crap left behind by your mistakes. Hard to see while it’s raining down around you, and by the time you finally notice the poison piling up you’re already drowning in it.
The drug hit him like an express train, a white-hot column of light mounting his spine from the region of his prostate, illuminating the sutures of his skull with x-rays of short-circuited sexual energy. His teeth sang in their individual sockets like tuning forks, each one pitch-perfect and clear as ethanol. His bones, beneath the hazy envelope of flesh, were chromed and polished, the joints lubricated with a film of silicone. Sandstorms raged across the scoured floor of his skull, generating waves of high thin static that broke behind his eyes, spheres of purest crystal, expanding…The anger was expanding, relentless, exponential, riding out behind the betaphenethylamine rush like a carrier wave, a seismic fluid, rich and corrosive.
01:30:20 Brian Johnson: Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…
01:30:42 Andrew Clark: …and an athlete…
01:30:44 Allison Reynolds: …and a basket case…
01:30:46 Claire Standish: …a princess…
01:30:48 John Bender: …and a criminal…
01:30:49 Brian Johnson: Does that answer your question?… Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.
After the long journey of finding God, Jesse Custer finally got a hold him through a peyote trip. He was the same bastard he always is, holding the Almighty accountable for his sins, for his abandonment of mankind. If you ask me, this a true hero: a man who can forsake God not because he feels rebellious but because he feels that the Creator is responsible for the misery in the world. But sometimes that doesn’t go as well as planed…
00:01:21 Bill: Do you find me sadistic? You know, I bet I could fry an egg on your head right now, if I wanted to. You know, Kiddo, I’d like to believe that you’re aware enough even now to know that there’s nothing sadistic in my actions. Well, maybe towards those other… jokers, but not you. No Kiddo, at this moment, this is me at my most… [cocks pistol] masochistic.
Estas son las imágenes de introducción a cada capítulo del segundo volumen de Maus, historia sobre sobrevivientes polacos durante el holocausto nazi. A diferencia del primer volumen de esta novela gráfica en esta instancia Art Spiegelman se encarga de narrar los horrores vividos por su padre y su madre durante su estadía en campos de concentración nazi com Auschwitz y Dachau.
“As a committed vegetarian, I know you can’t really be enjoying this raw, meat-based product we’ve been force-feeding you. Especially when I tell you the poor animal we slaughtered had to be tortured first. Oh, by the way, the «animal» I meant was actually your daughter, Nicola. Hell of a way to join the carnivorous ranks.”
- Spartacus Hughes on The Filth #7 (2003)
You will know I am the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you!
The Pro (2002) is a satire comic book in which a prostitute is granted super powers to show that every human being can be heroic. Turns out the definition of “heroic” can be extremely broad, hence comedy ensues. This is the first comic that has made me laugh from start to finish, great book.
Esta año se va perfilando como menos cinéfilo en cantidad que el anterior. Aun así la calidad de algunas de las películas que he escogido para ver ha sido satisfactoria. Las siguientes fueron las que más disfruté durante el mes anterior.
Sound City (2013)
Seven Psychopaths (2012)
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)*
Small Apartments (2012)
The Invisible War (2012)
From Dusk Till Dawn (1996)*
Wreck-It Ralph (2012)
*Revisitadas, las había visto por lo menos una vez antes.
RANDAL: Which did you like better: Jedi or The Empire Strikes Back?
DANTE: (exasperated) Empire.
DANTE: Empire had the better ending: Luke gets his hand cut off, and finds out Vader’s his father; Han gets frozen and taken away by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. And that’s life: a series of down endings. All Jedi had was a bunch of Muppets.