Blogathon 23: Uncanny X-Men #403

First thing's first, if you're just randomly checking this blog and are wondering what's going on, I'm participating in Blogathon where you blog for 24 hours, posting every 30 minutes, all for charity. I began at 9 am this morning, so it's been 11 hours now. I am blogging for the Alzheimer Society of Canada and you can sponsor me by clicking on the sheep over to your right there.

And now, we return to our issue-by-issue look at Joe Casey's Uncanny X-Men run already in progress . . .

Archangel and Stacy are flying through Germany or something and see a mutant getting the shit kicked out of them, and land and try to sort things out. They find a lovely group of mutant-hating humans and try to talk to them, which doesn't seem to be working too well. A bunch of X-Corps people show up and solve the problem, but Archangel is all ready to throw down. That's right, he wants to talk to the bigots beating up the mutant, but is ready to beat the shit out of Multiple Man and company for daring to solve the situation. Archangel is a fucking moron, people.

Meanwhile, Banshee shows Chamber (a former student of his) around and we learn that M, Jubilee and Husk from Generation X are X-Corps members, too. Chamber is still all paranoid like the other X-Men.

Then, Iceman walks into a bar and begins calling Avalanche, Blog and Surge names because they're evil and Iceman is good and blah blah blah. It ends with the "bad guys" taking the high road and Iceman looking like a jackass, which he is.

Kurt and Banshee talk. Kurt and Chamber talk. Surge kills the bigots from before. Chamber finds Lady Mastermind in the basement in a tank of fluid and is sucked into her head telephically.

Goddamn, this is a frustrating issue, because the first half seems to do everything is can to show that the X-Men are assholes, while the X-Corps are doing a good job, while the last half just shows it's the same old story of too good to be true, ends justify the means, and who cares what else.

I'm kind of tired. Usually happens around now every day. Most days I find it funny that at eight or nine, I'm tired as hell, but at two am, I'm wide awake. Doing this won't even phase me. I'm going into my sixth year of university; I've pulled all-nighters without even trying to. Just the usual early evening slugishness. In an hour or so, I'll go get another slushy and the walk plus high amounts of sugar and, well, liquid will keep me alert. Am getting a little sick of sitting here, though.

Back to the issue, yeah, what the fuck? Why must a great idea become so bad? And it gets worse, people. By the end of this story, you'll have forgotten the fact that it ever SEEMED like it could have been good. But, it does fit into the larger picture of Casey's run: pop will eat itself. This story is just like every other than came before it.