A database of over 22,000 comic books characters and a list of their religious affiliation. Some times it’s based on direct statements from a character, other times the site’s author is using clues from various comic book appearances.
Some interesting finds:
Batman is probably either lapsed Catholic or lapsed Episcopalian (a lot of his beliefs and his parents’ tombstones point to Catholic, but the fact that he is a super rich east-coaster more likely makes him a lapsed Episcopalian). Alfred is an Anglican (go figure). The Dick Grayson Robin is a gypsy (a retcon to explain where his family of acrobats comes from), while the Tim Drake Robin is considered to be Jewish Catholic.
Superman is listed as Methodist-Kryptonian. The Green Arrow is listed as ‘Liberal-Marxist’, while Lex Luthor is considered a ‘Nietzschean Atheist’. Superman’s doppleganger, Bizzaro, is listed as ‘Anti-Methodist’.
Spider-man is protestant, but there is an argument among some fans stating that he might be Jewish.
I am too much of a nerd to be finding this interesting.
A friend told me that one of his most awkward moments ever involved a family dinner table discussion of his grandfather’s war service. Let’s just say there were uncomfortable similarities to a certain ASIP episode.
Also, having someone walk in your room as you google Charlie Kelly Nazi Banana is kind of awkward as well, if they don’t know what you’re talking about.
I took your grammar quiz and I must disagree with your answer to question 2.
Even though "Heinrich searched Amsterdam all night; therefore, he was able to find the hidden Jews." is the 'most correct' (and easiest to read) answer, "Heinrich searched Amsterdam all night, therefore he was able to find the hidden Jews." is also acceptable (albeit, less pleasing).
Oh shit dude, you’re right. I think that’s one of the ones where I stole a question from a grammar quiz online, then made it into something horrible about the Holocaust and had to add more ‘incorrect’ choices.
Evidently I screwed up and wrote a sentence with proper grammar. Heh.
My brother Kyle asked me to look after his garden while he went to play hackey sack and get lectured about the benefits of a cruelty free diet by disgusting hippies at Evolve for a week (Money quote: “This one guy told me he doesn’t eat wheat because humans weren’t designed to digest it, we’re supposed to be hunter-gatherers. Noah asked him how he gets his wheat, because it’s part of the food pyramid and the guy said the food pyramid is just a government conspiracy to get you to buy groceries”). For the record, this is his first attempt at growing a garden and neither of us know dick-all about how vegetables work.
I watered his garden and took care of it. But in a fit of inspiration, I went to the produce section of the supermarket and bought a nice big pineapple and buried it up to it’s stalk beside his tomatoes. Mostly just for the WTF factor his face would have when he saw it.
So he got back yesterday and found the pineapple. He literally just sat in his garden for ten minutes saying “What the fuck?” and “Jesus Christ… that looks like a pineaple.” At one point he was observed uttering “I could’ve sworn pineapples grew on trees…” and he spent a lot of time googling pineapples.
This was really a great example of IRL master class trolling.
“My buddy has a tattoo that says ‘mom’. I told him it was pretty badass and that mom tattoos were classic. He told me it says ‘wow’. I thought he was joking but he got really upset when I tried to ask him about it, so I think he was serious.”— Blake
Morning: Wake up, eat some breakfast and then fly around and shit, looking for adventure.
Afternoon: fight commies, save gorgeous women from distress.
Evening: hang out with friends and play with atomic ray guns (but I must leave my mask on at all times, day or night, because no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love will always be the ones who pay).
Nighttime: Fly to moon, fight Commie Moonmen, infiltrate their secret moon base and destroy their mechanical men.
I suppose the PC term for mechanical men these days is robot. My bad.
This story came up in conversation the other day, and figured I’d share it online. It used to really embarrass me, but now it’s just an amusing story.
I was in grade five or six and Pokemon was the big fad. I bought a Game Boy just so I could play it. Everyone who played would meet up on the soccer field at recess and lunch and we would Pokebattle or trade pokemons on whatever. It was good times.
Anyways, one day someone (maybe me?) in my small clique of friends read in the newspaper that there was going to be a POKEMON TOURNAMENT AT THE SUNDAY FLEA MARKET.
I remember reacting to this news with something like OMGYOUGUYSTHISISAWESOMEWEHAVETOGOTOTHIS. And so we did.
I also remember Mom driving me and Moose to the flea market they used to have at the Zellers shopping mall in Sydney. I remember this very well because on the drive out Moose realized HE DIDN’T HAVE ANY OF HIS POKEMONS READY. This was a disaster waiting to happen, because we had already planned how we were going to act as a team along with Ian “Deuce” Doucette to kick ass and win the tournament. So on the drive out I leveled up a bunch of my shit Pokemon to level 100 and traded them to Moose. I remember specifically that I gave him the worm worm that looks like a dirty dick with a face drawn on it.
I gave him some of these so we could win.
Anyways, we got to the mall and quickly realized we had made a much bigger deal out of the tournament than it really was. The whole thing was being run by two boy scouts looking to get some kind of entrepreneurial badge or something. They were wearing their stupid uniforms that look like something the Gestapo would wear if they all had suddenly turned gay. They ended up having to share table space with some old dude who was selling tobacco pipes and those little fake flies that fishermen use. He wanted nothing to do with a bunch of retarded nerds playing vidja games at his table.
Anyways, it was five dollars to enter the tournament and whoever won split the tournament earnings with the boy scouts, who were probably going to donate their half to charity or buy dildos or something.
There were only about eight people in the entire tournament, with one of the boy scouts playing his copy of Pokemon Red just to fill out the tournament table. I don’t remember how it worked exactly, but we realized he had some sort of unfair advantage.
I ended up losing to my own Pokemon in the second round against Moose, which was bullshit. We were supposed to be a team, but there weren’t really enough people in the tournament for that to happen.
I think Ian made it all the way to third place, where he was beaten by a stoner who looked like he was thirty and had made a point of announcing repeatedly that he wasn’t big in to Pokemon and he had just stumbled upon the tournament and just happened to have his Game Boy and Pokemon cartridge with him. Riiight. He also didn’t pay the entrance fee which was bullshit because he came in second place.
Anyways, later that year everyone in our clique stopped playing Pokemon and it became heresy to mention it or bring up the tournament, under penalty of excommunication.
So I’ve been going through the lists of recipients Victoria Cross. The Victoria Cross is the highest military honour the Commonwealth has, and it is rewarded to those who show valour in the face of the enemy.
Here are some of my favourites:
1. William Hall - The first Nova Scotian and the first black man to be awarded the VC. His parents were slaves who had escaped from America and came to Canada. Hall was was serving on board the HMS Shannon during the Indian Rebellion of 1857. His ship was part of a battle called the Siege of Lucknow. The Shannon had come under fire from a mosque full of rebels, and everyone on Hall’s 24 pounder gun were killed or wounded - everyone but Hall and his lieutenant, who kept the gun going despite being under enemy fire.
2. Lachiman Gurung - Gurung was a Gurkha, one of the most badass group of warriors to ever walk the planet. Gurka’s are tough and deadly. Seriously. I can’t even describe how badass Gurung himself was, so I’m just going to quote his VC citation:
On 12/13 May 1945 at Taungdaw, Burma, Rifleman Lachhiman Gurung was manning the most forward post of his platoon which bore the brunt of an attack by at least 200 of the enemy. Twice he hurled back grenades which had fallen on his trench, but the third exploded in his right hand, blowing off his fingers, shattering his arm and severely wounding him in the face, body and right leg. His two comrades were also badly wounded but the rifleman, now alone and disregarding his wounds, loaded and fired his rifle with his left hand for four hours, calmly waiting for each attack which he met with fire at point blank range. Afterwards, when the casualties were counted, it is reported that there were 31 dead Japanese around his position which he had killed, with only one arm.
Wikipedia says he lost an eye and the use of his right hand in the battle - BUT HE CONTINUED TO SERVE. Jesus Christ, Gurkha’s are tough. I think I will have to do a whole post about how badass Ghurkas are at some point in the future.
3. Able Seacat Simon - “THROUGHOUT THE YANGTZE INCIDENT HIS BEHAVIOUR WAS OF THE HIGHEST ORDER”.
Okay, so he didn’t get the Victoria Cross, but he did get the Dickin Medal aka the Victoria Cross for animals. Simon served aboard the HMS Amethyst where his duties included catching rats and raising the ship’s morale. He was known for leaving presents of dead rats in sailors’ bunks and for sleeping in the captain’s hat.
While the Amethyst was sailing up the Yangtze River, she came under attack by a Chinese ship and Simon was seriously injured - but this didn’t stop him. The medical staff on the ship treated his burns and removed some shrapnel and Simon went back to catching rats. This cat is a hero to us all.
Neil Rideout is fighting a traffic ticket issued in July, 2009, for driving his motorized cooler on a sidewalk.
“I was only trying to do the right thing by reducing greenhouse gases,” he said.
“It only goes one kilometre at a time, I could walk faster than that,” said Rideout.
So he took it to Fox Fabrication where a turbo-charged 5.5-horsepower motor was added, enabling it to travel 50 km/h.
Rideout said he was stopped by police twice; once to tell him he had to wear a helmet, a second time telling him to keep it on the sidewalk.
Four days later, while driving to a store, he was issued a ticket for driving on a sidewalk and fined $222.
Obviously the enviro-green angle is just bullshit to try to win people to his side, but it is a slippery slope. No doubt once we catch the Halifax Nightwatcher masturbating on a tree branch outside of some poor Dal girl’s window, he’ll get acquitted on some bullshit tree-hugging nonsense.
This is why I love Hark A Vagrant. If there was one thing I hated reading in high school, it was about the heroic miner-fisherman and how he we were supposed to hero worship him.
Of course going to school in the nineties and early twenty-first century, all of the miners were welfare bums because the mines were closed, and the fishermen (who do have a dangerous job) only worked a couple of weeks a year, and collected pogey for the other fifty weeks. I was never able to connect government hand outs with heroism.
Today I learned about: where baby carrots come from (they are reject carrots with no friends), how to raise a retarded child (and it is okay to call them that, sort of) and some sort of lady named Macy Gray (wasn’t really paying attention, I think she sings or something).
Jion Ghomeshi is still a douchebag, though. I mean, seriously. He reeks of being an old person’s idea of a what a ‘hip’ or ‘cool’ young person should be like. I’ll take George not-gonna-attempt-to-spell-his-last-name over El Douche any day.
Since it is Canada Day, I thought I’d post this. It’s clearly the best campaign poster of all time.
I had another anecdote about Thomas D’Arcy McGee I was gong to post, but I can’t entirely remember it, and I don’t feel like digging up my copy of his biography to look it up, and it isn’t on Wikipedia. A shame.
So instead of an anecdote, I’m just going to remind you that he was the only Canadian politician to ever be assassinated. And by cowardly Fenians, no less.
"This Government can’t afford two drunkards - and you’ve got to stop.”
Sir John A MacDonald, first prime minister of Canada, to Thomas D’Arcy McGee, Father of Confederation.
Another great Sir John A MacDonald story is about his likeness to contemporary British prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli. When he showed up at Benjamin’s funeral, some British officials thought MacDonald was Disraeli’s ghost.