We haven’t devoted a whole hell of a lot of pixels to the Marvel Now! initiative of re-imaging and recasting some books, and restarting others, all with newly mixed up creative teams, partially because thanks to the sheer volume of teaser posters and creative team teases Marvel’s been putting out about the changes since SDCC, and partially because it all seems kinda familiar (but Marvel doesn’t reboot! And Spider-Man has always been an unmarried highly-paid research scientist! And we have always been at war with Eastasia!).

That said, a couple of the books that have been announced are exciting me more than others, and one of them is All-New X-Men, written by Brian Michael Bendis with art by Stuart Immonen. The concept is pretty interesting and somewhat novel: the original X-Men as created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby – Iceman, Cyclops, Angel, Beast and Jean Grey as teenaged school children – travel forward in time and space (and hopefully Bendis remembers the “space” part, otherwise the X-Men will wake up gasping with their blood boiling somewhere off the shoulder of Orion) to the current Marvel Universe and meet their modern counterparts. Meaning that these five idealistic teenagers who firmly believe they are on the side of the angels in trying to save the world will have to come to terms with the fact that they grow up to be the semi-psychotic angst-ridden spastics who started Avengers Vs. X-Men.

Part of my excitement for this title, despite not being the X-Men fan on the staff, is the sheer number of cool, obvious storytelling opportunities this crossover will provide. I’m no comic writer, but I’m guessing we’re going to be seeing:

EDITOR’S NOTE: Look, up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s Super – nah; it’s just spoilers.

Alan Moore’s run on Supreme, back when it was part of Rob Liefeld’s Awesome Comics imprint in the mid-90s, was a classic of the superhero genre in an era that brought us The Spider-Man Clone Saga, the death of Superman, and nearly every other comic book that wasn’t StarmanHitman, Preacher or Channel Zero (my pull list was a lot shorter and cheaper between, say, 1995 and 2000). It was a simple concept: examine the character of Superman using a pastiche character, using versions of Superman’s Silver and Bronze age history as canon, while placing that character in the modern world of the 1990s, all about fifteen or so years before All-Star Superman was a glimmer in Grant Morrison’s baggie of peyote.

What with Liefeld resurrecting the comics under his Awesome imprint under the Image proper label, bringing back Supreme was a gimme, especially considering Alan Moore’s script for issue 63 had been written, but never produced, what with Awesome folding back in 2000. Moore’s final issue dropped a couple of months back, with Image partner Erik Larsen taking over writing and art in the subsequent issue. And Larsen is no Alan Moore. No one is… but in Supreme #66, he gets the broad tones and feelings right while updating Supreme for the 2010s. The question is: is that enough?

The answer is: kinda.

The Avengers is scheduled to be released on DVD and Blu-Ray on September 25th, and what with this being 2012, that means that pirated rips of the four-disc set are reportedly starting to appear in the darker corners of the Internet.

This further means that some of the special features from the disc, including deleted scenes and extra documentaries and production clips, are beginning to trickle to YouTube, where they pop up for a while before being inevitably smacked down by Disney for copyright violations.

So if you want to see, say, a deleted scene fleshing out the relationship between Hypnotized Hawkeye and Loki, or maybe the gag reel from the movie? Well, I’d click through the jump and check it out sooner rather than later…

EDITOR’S NOTE: I’m just going to spoil the Earth, like Kane from Kung Fu.

Even if Avengers Vs. X-Men goes the way of such other luminary comics crossover events as Contest of ChampionsAtlantis Attacks, or Heroes Reborn, meaning in order to remember it one needs to find it on Wikipedia, it will have accomplished one thing that no other event in Marvel Comics history has accomplished, and which is long, long overdue.

In issue ten, it showed Cyclops getting the everfucking shit kicked out of him while a baldheaded nerd points and laughs, and the he goes running for his Mommy. Well, not exactly, but close enough to make me giggle myself into a halfway decent erection.

Yes, I hate Cyclops just that much.

We are in the middle of some pretty significant site maintenance today – a man with a hangover should not be this deep into a MYSQL database is all that I’m saying – which means that you may see some occasional site outages over the next several hours, including strange changes in images on the page, and frankly, this Web site might – might – speak an unholy word.

However, while we perform delicate computer brain surgery after a night of reckless Car Bomb shots, please enjoy this clever reinterpretation of the truly horrible song Call Me Maybe by an outfit called NoBatStache.

Daredevil has consistently been one of the best comics you can get since Mark Waid took over the writing last year, and it has been that way at least partially because Waid made a conscious choice to turn the character away from the noir darkness that has defined it since Frank Miller’s run in the 80s. There was a long run on this book where the writers seemed to make a conscious choice that God hated Matt Murdock, and Matt Murdock would respond to this divine hatred with the grace and aplomb of a gutshot bath salts addict with terminal neurologically-based vertigo.

In the last issue, Waid moved straight past the noir-influenced obstacles of bitchy, damaged hot girls and random betrayals straight into pulp: someone dug up his dad and put his remains in Murdock’s desk for Murdock’s partner Foggy to find. Foggy, predictably, flipped out and kicked Matt out of the law firm… which until recently would be the trigger mechanism for the writer to have Daredevil become homeless, or excessively violent, or to bang Typhoid Mary in Peter Parker’s house while Captain America pounds on the door to serve a subpoena.

In Daredevil #17, however, Waid zigs where everyone else would zag, delivering a flashback story that ultimately reinforces Daredevil’s new, more upbeat attitude and personality in a believable and organic way… albeit being kind of a goofy story with some real holes in it.

If there is a show on television that has repeatedly demonstrated its comic geek cred, it’s Robot Chicken. From the sketch of the members of the Justice League as the cast of The Real World to the Hollywood Spotlight on The Hulk, you have to respect Seth Green’s commitment to comics, even though at SDCC I had to wait around for five minutes in my hotel lobby while his bodyguards cockblocked me from the elevators in the hotel I, you know, was a paid and registered guest in, so they could guarantee that Mr. Green got to ride to his hotel room in comfort. All the while ignoring my plaintive whimpers about my scrotum being stuck to my left leg. But that’s not important right now.

What’s important is that, after a couple of Star Wars related specials, Robot Chicken is doing a DC Comics special. And not only that, DC Comics’s Chief Creative Officer did some work on the special, meaning that we are likely to see Aquaman finally breaking off a piece of that sweet, sweet Catwoman ass, opening a filthy joke singularity of the words “fish” and “pussy”.

Look: if you’re a fan of the show, you’re gonna watch it anyway. But if you’re not, the official trailer for the special has been released, and you can get a taste of what you’re in for (hint: if includes crotch shots. Literally.) after the jump.

The Indiana Jones trilogy, plus some other movie with Shia LaBeouf that I refuse to admit exists, is coming out on Blu-Ray in a high-definition transfer on September 18th, But rather than simply passively suck in all that sweet, sweet free money from people like me who will buy the new set despite having owned it on both VHS and DVD (y’know, minus that fourth “bonus” disc that none of us will ever, ever watch), director Steven Spielberg will be releasing the remastered Raiders of The Lost Ark in AMC IMAX theaters for one week only, starting September 7th.

On one hand this is good news… except for the fact that no matter how good the new HD IMAX transfer looks, it still means that I’ll be in a dark room seeing seven-foot spiders crawling on Alfred Molina’s back without even the benefit of PCP-sprayed dirtweed to blame. But the problem is that Spielberg and Raiders producer George Lucas have a… shall we say reputation… for taking the opportunity that a digital remaster offers to a filmmaker to make a few tweaks, adjustments and terrible abominations to the original film. Let’s just say that I was Elliot’s age when E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial was originally released, and if I were riding my bike and came across an FBI agent in a suit carrying a walkie-talkie? I’d have saved E.T.’s energy and just mowed the giant pussy down.

Having read the first two issues in the latest in a 20-plus year long line of comic books with the title The Crow, I find it ironic that the original book was about a soul that could not rest until he found justice… or at least revenge.

The original Crow miniseries by James O’Barr is a personal favorite, and the 1992 Tundra Publishing reprints of the original Caliber Press printings are prized possessions in my collection. It is a personal favorite because it is simple, and it is self-contained: a dude in the wrong place at the wrong time gets killed along with his girlfriend for no reason at all, and he somehow returns from the grave to kill the gang who killed them. That’s it. Who is the guy? Doesn’t matter, to the point where O’Barr doesn’t even tell us his last name (“Draven” only came about in the 1994 movie, that felt it needed to shoehorn in unnecessary backstory for the straights in the theaters). Why is he killed? Just some random violence from some random junkies; could’ve been anyone, anywhere. Why does he come back? His love for his girl is just that strong, brother. It was simple, and it was emotional, it was powerful… and then it was done.

It was everything that this new comic version of The Crow is not.

Considering how I felt about Brian Azzarello’s take on my favorite Watchmen character, The Comedian, I opened Rorschach #1 with my knife already out and sharpened. Considering how many plot and character liberties Azzarello has been taking with The Comedian, I opened this comic book fully expecting to see something like Rorschach battling Blofeld from SPECTRE in Munich while jockeying a rocketpack and firing his laser watch at the angry flying sharks. All while Rorschach weeps moronically while reciting Nietzsche to lolcats.

Turns out it’s not like that. Instead, Azzarello has made the connection that the Keene Act that stopped costumed adventuring in the Watchmen universe was passed in 1977, and New York City, where Rorschach was operating as a street-level crimefighter, was a terrible, terrible place in 1977. It was the New York of Taxi Driver and Son of Sam and a Times Square where a tourist could get fistfucked by a transvestite hooker instead of the retail markup at the Disney Store. It was a New York of grindhouse theaters, and Azzarello has given Rorschach a grindhouse story in which he can star. And God help me, it’s really pretty damn good.