Monday, March 14, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
beastly looking devil, with the soul of Errol Flynn.
rain a 40 oz. on the grass for Nightcrawler
The Marvel writers killed off Nightcrawler awhile ago... It is my duty to finally discharge responsibilities to his memory and aid others in grocking a piece of such exemplary art.
a pointed prehensile tail...three digited extremities...yellow eyes...compactly taut...blue furred skin...his status most assuredly second class hero. there would be no parades and few love interests. minor miracle he survived 40 odd years.
quietly pious and even tempered, his dark past and appearance didn't inspire disdain for those who disdained and wronged him, and he accepted a universe that gave no favor. any potential darkness within illuminated by his unconditional love for homo sapien and superior. fencing and religious contemplation serving as refuges from a superficially judgmental world. identifying with his outsider status, I also envied his magnanimity... a creature of the Shadows, unafraid of the Light.
went on to lead Excalibur, and a couple versions of the X-Men. Not one of the lauded leaders, like Storm or Cyclops, his periods at the helm were nonetheless competent and just. powers of teleportation and preternatural agility meant he was grease man and lifesaver for his groups. "Oh no, a team mate is tumbling through space, lost forever, who can rescue her?... These doors are adamantium, how will we ever get past them?" like a stage hand or busboy...chronically unappreciated.
intercepting a lethal attack on Hope from Bastion, he teleported and rematerialized with Bastion's arm through his middle...
The Marvel writers killed off Nightcrawler awhile ago... It is my duty to finally discharge responsibilities to his memory and aid others in grocking a piece of such exemplary art.
a pointed prehensile tail...three digited extremities...yellow eyes...compactly taut...blue furred skin...his status most assuredly second class hero. there would be no parades and few love interests. minor miracle he survived 40 odd years.
quietly pious and even tempered, his dark past and appearance didn't inspire disdain for those who disdained and wronged him, and he accepted a universe that gave no favor. any potential darkness within illuminated by his unconditional love for homo sapien and superior. fencing and religious contemplation serving as refuges from a superficially judgmental world. identifying with his outsider status, I also envied his magnanimity... a creature of the Shadows, unafraid of the Light.
went on to lead Excalibur, and a couple versions of the X-Men. Not one of the lauded leaders, like Storm or Cyclops, his periods at the helm were nonetheless competent and just. powers of teleportation and preternatural agility meant he was grease man and lifesaver for his groups. "Oh no, a team mate is tumbling through space, lost forever, who can rescue her?... These doors are adamantium, how will we ever get past them?" like a stage hand or busboy...chronically unappreciated.
intercepting a lethal attack on Hope from Bastion, he teleported and rematerialized with Bastion's arm through his middle...
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