Well, it seems that the nerd dams have burst ever since I’ve let Shmathan and Sharker contribute to the blog, but you won’t find me complaining. Frankly, when there’s a party, I’m always inclined to join. And, to be frank, nerd parties are something of which I know all too well.
In my youth, I could frequently be found pouring over comic books in my bedroom like a nerd boy in heat. My tastes, admittedly, always ran a little queer: Obvious titles in the Marvel canon were always overtook by the more random and obscure ends of the Marvel universe. I cut my comic book teeth on the parody series What The–?!, Sleepwalker was my favorite title, and I gravitated to Generation X and the inspired artistry of Chris Bachalo over any other X spinoff. These things happen.
Nevertheless, these colors don’t run and blahblahblah, so I’d be lying by omission if I didn’t admit to being a Marvel nerd. Always have, and always will. That was my closet, and here is my exit:
Trust me, the pink-letter editorialization merely obscures the beauty. Enjoy, and let’s move on.
Anyways, all (nerd) things considered, this brings us to the real and most important question to ever be blogged: WHICH X-MAN WOULD YOU BE? It’s deceptively simple to ask, but terribly complicated to answer.
For example, if you were Cyclops, you could accessorize in the most fabulous of ways:
As Scott Summers can attest, ruby quartz glasses are never not in style, but do you really want to have those pesky optic blasts as well? I’m all for seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses, but you’d be a nightmare wherever you go. Seriously, being Cyclops is all fun and games until your laser eyes zap off someone’s limb. Or you blow-up a building while trying to brush away an eyelash. Or you ruin a Monet at the MoMA while trying to take a closer look. When you think about it, being Cyclops would kinda make you the worst.
Then again, you could be the ultimate X-diva, Phoenix:
On one hand, you’d be the fiercest and most powerful bitch in town. Or in the galaxy. Or wherever. On the other hand, you’d have that damn evil personality issue. And Brett Ratner would invariably fuck everything up when he brings you to the big screen. He’s got sausage fingers behind the camera like that.
And when you think about it some more, some mutant powers are flat out gaudy:
I’m not saying that Angel’s mutant power is gay, but I’m not going to even attempt to argue that it’s even remotely heterosexual in a Kinsey scale sort of way. Or any sort of way, for that matter. Angel’s wings, like the filmography of Barbara Streisand or a penchant for jazz hands, are just inherently gay. You can’t really get around it.
I could go on and on and on, but I’ll keep my nerdiness in check. For my money, there’s only one truly functional mutant power:
That’s right: Nightcrawler. Every time you miss just miss that train as it pulls out of the subway station, you could *BAMF!* yourself into that train and not have to suffer the indignities of actually waiting on public transportation. Call me impatient, but having the G train play a part of your commute teaches you a thing or two about the MTA, which is namely that it’s ass. I’m sure that telepathy has its thrills, and telekinesis would be great for not having to get up off your lazy ass when you want a bag of potato chips, but I want to teleport, damnit! I’ll pass on the blue skin and the tail, obviously, but it’d be quite lovely to no longer have to curse the A train every time it pulls out of Hoyt-Schermerhorn right as the G comes to a stop.
Of course, that’s just my two (nerd) cents. Which X-Man (or Woman, or Tranny; feel free to take your gender pick) would you be? These are hard hitting questions, y’all, and they deserve hard hitting answers! So answer, by golly!!!