Since it is apparently impossible to get the third volume of Y: The Last Man in Toronto, I have temporarily jumped over to Ex Machina, which is also very good. It's slightly smarter than Y, and consequently slightly less entertaining, but it was what I needed yesterday, so that's good. Also finally got both Nextwave books, and the first volume of Fell. And yes, I bought the first issue of Echo because I am apparently powerless before shiny objects. I should be a raccoon.

Finally! Rob Ford is dealt with. Too bad it had to come by way of the shithead allegedly wailing on a woman, and too bad his constituents would probably see a guilty verdict as a strong platform for his next electoral run, but whatever. I'll be thinking of him when I'm slogging up the DVP on my bike on June 1, blocking all that über-important Sunday commuter traffic.

This morning on the subway I read the latest Daredevil and got so depressed I almost gave up on life... but holy cow, All-Star Superman is the solid shiznit and pulled me straight back. After a wobbly six or seven issues, this was probably the best one Morrison's done since the first, deft in both story construction and entertainment value, and just so goddamn ball-satisfyingly good. I actually gasped on the Siegel & Shuster reveal, even though I kinda twigged to where the thing was going from page 4.... There's no harm in swinging for the fences when you're doing definitive Supermythology. God, this thing made me feel good. About everything - y'know, like life and stuff. Plus, you gotta love the idea that 300 years from now, we'll all be talking in incomprehensible LOLcat gibberishspeak.

I will not be going to this, so the world is safe from my overused Jack Sparrow imitation for at least one more day. Plus, 52 movies... in a year this terrible, what the fuck would I even see?