Super-Villain Style

This is my last post for the week. I’ll finish the final three off next week starting Monday. Although, since I post these entries so late, I doubt if it matters. This entry could be, most likely, should be considered Friday’s post. So, I doubt if it’s a big deal. Probably will end up cleaning up my sidebar over the weekend. I hate all that shit over there. I put the links up mostly for myself. This site becomes my second portal next to only Google. But I’m tired of seeing all that shit. Maybe a couple of drop down menus. Something like that. Anyway. Let’s get down to business.

No funny shit here. You wanna know why. Because this asshole pisses me the fuck off. I hate this bastard. I hate that I had to put him on the list. He’s everything I hate in a super-villain. Who the fuck am I talking about? Why, it’s none other than the…

I hate your stankin’ ass. Beyotches couldn’t leave well enough alone. Nope. You bastards had to go and fuck up one of the greatest villains ever. 5 fuckin’ Green Goblins. Goblin Legacy?!? Bullshit! What the fuck is this shit. I wanna go on strike. But I just say fuck it. We all know the real deal. There’s maybe one, possibly two, dudes who can lay claim to being the real Green Goblin. And they’re both named Osborn. Get it. So, let’s begin.

The first Green Goblin was biwig Norman Osborn, big time corporate chemical plant owning dude, who came across a formula that would make him super-smart and ultra-strong. He recreated the formula and the shit exploded on his ass. He found out that the green shit made him smart and strong, but he didn’t realize that that shit was making him crazy, too. And like most crazy people I know, he created a goblin glider and put on a ugly ass fucked up green and purple costume and decided to call himself the Green Goblin.

I thought about doing some shit like that after taking some green stuff. You can’t tell me Stan Lee wasn’t telling me to read between the fuckin’ lines there. It’s 1964, and a dude takes some “green” shit that turns him all wild and crazy. Green Goblin, all laughing and shit, throwing pumpkin bombs. Probably ate a lot of Cheetos and Frito Lays. Come on. That shit’s just like real life.

Anyway, Osborn all fucked up, decides to go thug, like Martha Stewart. And comes up with the brillant idea to kill Spider-man just to get a rep, you know, street creds. But you know how shit happens. Things get personal. Like all our great villains, you gotta figure out the secret identity of our hero. And Goblin did just that, drugging Spidey, essentially killing off Spidey’s Spidey-Sense, and trailing Parker’s ass home. He would kidnap our hero and go all Goldfinger on a brother, revealing in triumph to Spidey that he, Green Goblin, was none other than Norman Osborn, to the shock of everybody. Really. Of course, Spidey overcomes this shit in a battle that fuckin’ kills part of Osborn’s memories of being the Green Goblin. And guess what Spidey does. He lets him go. Can we all say, Bad Move.

Now comes the proverbial kick in the fuckin’ head. Osborn regains his memories and starts back to fuckin with our hero, now knowing his secret identity. And all this shit leads up to Goblin fuckin’ killing Spidey’s girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, throwing her dumb blond ass off the George Washington Bridge. And the beyotch don’t even die by contact. She just sees the ground, and says, Fuck it. I’m dead. After Gwen’s death, Petey gets all emotional like a beyotch and goes after the Goblin. This shit leds to Goblin being impaled on his own fuckin’ goblin glider. Now ain’t that some shit. And you think a brother would stay dead after some shit like that.

Anyway, Harry Osborn, Pete’s best friend, and Goblin’s own baby boy, sees his daddy all fucked up and shit, and takes the body and removes the Goblin costume so that nobody will ever know that his father was Goblin. And afterwards, Harry, who was already kinda fruity to begin with with his father pissing all on him his entire life, goes fuckin’ insane himself, becoming the second Goblin. Now at this point, shit goes really bad because everybody and their beyotch ass mama wants to become Green Goblin, or Hobgoblin, or DemonDogGoblin. Fuck’em. In fact fuck it all. Cause all this Goblin shit should have died when Osborn died.

If only he had died. What? You say being rammed in the fuckin’ chest with a pointy ass glider, destroying all your major inner organs don’t kill ya? That’s right. We’re talking about comics, where beyotches can’t leave well enough alone. Dark Phoenix. Superman. Wonder Man, who I think was a fuckin’ ghost at one time, and I forgot how it happened, but he was returned to the living. It’s bullshit. All bullshit.

So, Harry dies due to the after-effects of the Goblin serum and Daddy Osborn supposedly starts all that clone business. It’s too confusing. Jackal, I don’t know, creates clone. Ben Reilly, a clone, who finds out that he’s really Peter Parker, who finds out that he’s a clone. And then none of that shit’s true. And Aunt May dies and I do the jig. You should’ve seen my brown ass clog dancing. Peter, crying on his Aunt’s belly, and me, smoking blunts, drinking beer, and doing coke. It’s a celebration, beyotches.

And then Osborn returns with a scar on his fuckin’ chest and shit. And we find out that the Aunt May who died was a clone. And now Baby Jesus is back from the dead. And I got a revolver to my skull cause shit don’t make sense no more. Like I’m John Kerry with three purple hearts and Tom Cruise all fucked up in a wheel chair after the fuckin’ horrors of Vietnam. Heart of Darkness, Apocalypse Now, Brando shit, rubbing my fuckin’ bald head, waiting for my fuckin’ head to get chopped the fuck off. It’s bad, my peeps.

I fuckin’ give up comics for three years, partially because I’m disillusioned, and mostly because I’m almost outta college and I’m flat broke. And rent comes before funny books. It’s devastating. I go through some Harry Osborn moments, my hair grown out with some palm waves in my shit, looking like Jerome from the Time, only waaaay lighter, carrying around a fuckin’ mirror like a fuckin’ lackay. Can you feel my pain? I did not have sexual relations with that woman. Do you feel me?

One of the greatest fuckin’ villains reduced to Malkovich trash, hanging out in Europe, dissing America and shit. And I wanna scream, LEAVE GREAT FUCKIN’ CHARACTERS DEAD AFTER THEIR GREATEST FUCKIN’ STORY. You tell me. Is Jean Grey interesting? Does anyone give a fuck about Jean Grey? She’s boring. Claremont and Bryne gives this boring beyotch one great fuckin’ story and haves her die at the end in a blaze of glory, affecting all the non-boring characters she’s left behind. And no one thinks to leave the boring beyotch DEAD. Leave her dead. What has she done since then. Leave the beyotch dead.

You tell me if Goblin is better off alive then dead. Anyone? So, why the fuck would you piss over a dude you supposedly love. I respect Goblin. And I respect his last storyline. And I respect his death. And I would’ve never pissed over that character by bringing him back to life. It’s bullshit. I quit. It’s over. It’s dead.

…Or Is It?

Green Goblin I: Norman Osborn
Green Goblin II: Harry Osborn
Green Goblin III: Dr. Bart Hamilton
Green Goblin IV: Phil Urich
Green Goblin V: clone of Harry Osborn

Hobgoblin I: Roderick Kingsely
Hobgoblin II: Jason Philip Macendale

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