Fuck Batman, is it Songbird RIP?

I’ve twittered on about my love for the comic Thunderbolts for some time now. Not news to many of you.

But amongst that team, a few characters stood higher than others. Jolt never really interested me, Fixer bothered me in a way I grew to find amusing but there was a place in my heart for tow T-bolts above all else.

One was Abe Jenkins aka The Beetle aka Mach One, Two Three and finally Four.

The other was his long time paramour Melissa Gold aka Screaming Mimi aka Songbird. She was clearly one of original Thunderbolts writer Kurt Busiek’s favourites too as she appeared in Avengers Forever as a future Avenger.

The hope of redemption was the core of the original take on the book. That dream gestated within the burgeoning romance between Abe and Melissa. Both low rent villains from the wrong side of the tracks, Busiek did a lot to flesh out their backstory and show us that a terrible upbringing and poor choices had made them into the people they had been in comics of yesteryear.

With a new wardrobe and new found respect coming from the public, Mach-1 and Songbird were the first Thunderbolts to question Zemo’s plans and dare to believe that they really could become heroes.

Melissa had many hurdles to face within her own confidence and resolve over the years but eventually grew in a smart capable woman who even lead the Thunderbolts for a time and was often their voice of reason when others were in charge.

Mark Bagley helped by giving her such a distinctive look, both in costume and hair. She was less femme fatale than Black Widow, more girl next door than She Hulk and grittier than the Invisible Woman. She had similar qualities to Rogue, a bad girl on a path of redemption but without the grating Southern Belle accent and convoluted history that made Rogue such a caricature.

When Warren Ellis took over writing the team after Civil War, he kept Melissa as part of the line up but it was clear she had a target painted on her. Much less malleable than the other former Thunderbolts and certainly not a hardened killer like both Venom and Bullseye, Melissa was a thorn in Norman Osborn’s side and he made that very clear.

Now as Andy Diggle takes over, Osborn is clearing house and at the end of Thunderbolts #126, Melissa found herself backed into a corner by the vicious Bullseye. I fnd myself nervous that Diggle is going to make me hate him by killing one of my favourite Marvel characters. She has been part of my life for twelve years after all.

Well, tomorrow will tell. A recent post on Newsarama shows she survives the first six pages, but after that who knows?

Yes, definitely nervous. I’m watching you Diggle.

Shit Day Two

Where is Shit Day One you may ask? That was yesterday. Nothing went right. Had some paranoia triggered through a simple question. Got angry. Had a day of idiot customers. And I ended up in store till gone 8pm working on the price change data. Then had a row with my Dad. Then rang back to apologise and had a row with my Mum. Then went home. Finally. Then realised I’d left the heating on at the shop. So got in the house, dumped my stuff and headed back out in to the cold. Was gonna get a taxi, but Matt caught me up and gave me a lift. Props to Matt for being a true gent. Got to shop. Hadn’t left heating on. Shit. Went home.

New day. New paragraph. Here it comes.

Overslept. Stubbed toe en route to bathroom. No time for breakfast. Rushed to post office. Queued behind morons. Finished, headed to bus stop. No bus. No bus. Ten minutes my arse. FUCK THE ROYLE FAMILY! THAT SHOW WAS AWFUL! AND NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY FUNNY. Three buses arrive. I fume quietly.

Get to work. Two people waiting outside. One is a good and elderly customer. I feel bad. The other is one of those guys who comes in and looks at everything, but buys nothing, Admits to buying it all online. Still feels able to make comments about my store layout, pricing, stock selection, etc. Total timewaster. I don’t feel bad.

I serve John, full of apologies. Explaining I was here till very late last night and the bus was late this morning. Other guy asks me for the Race For The Galaxy expansion. I tell him I can get him one for next week but that I haven’t ordered it thus far because - in my opinion the game is awful. I’ve played it with several friends and lent it to others. Most of us loathe it. Don’t understand why it’s so high on Board Game Geek. He looks offended. I feel a bit bad. Just a little bit. A smidgen, a sliver. (BSG boardgame reference there)

I ring home. New row with the mother. Am still angry with the father unit. Begin to think home alone for Christmas might be for the best. Fuck Swindon. Fuck Christmas. It’s all too much this year. I’m actually wanting to smash up Christmas trees that I see and I’m sick of Christmassy messages on Fb.

Matt has vomitted Christmas all over our hallway at home to make it nice for Krysia. Good for them. I’ll be honest, I hate it. Or do I? Maybe I’m just jealous. Christmas is a shit time to be alone.

I watched the last episode of Spooks season 7. Last night. SPOILERS.

I mean it. SPOILERS.

OK, I gave up with Spooks in season three. I hated Adam Carter and the actor playing him Rupert Penry Twatface. I missed the original team. It seemed careless to lose all three in one season. Tom takes early retirement. Zoe has to be hidden. Danny’s brains are blown out in the finale. Meh, the new characters suck. I’m done.

Then I catch the end of the first episode of season 7 quite my chance. Adam Carter goes up with a car bomb. I cheer! Actually cheer! The new guy is full of interesting back story and is played by the only good actor from the horrible BBC remake of Robin Hood. The one where they all shop at Gap. They even make a reference to Tom Quinn as the new chap is debriefed after 8 years in Russian prison. I cheer again.

I tune in for the next episode. The Middle Eastern fundamentalist angle is played down and Russia looms anew as a threat. The FSB are playing games. Friends from Special Branch tell me *nudge nudge wink wink* “Spooks has damn good sources”. Intrigued, I watch more. The new team captivates. Harry is still awesome. The show isn’t ham-stringed by Rupert Penry Twatface (please don’t cast him as The Doctor!).

Season 7 is brilliant. I love it, especially the thinly veiled Northern Rock, etc episode. The finale comes round. Connie is a traitor! There’s a suitcase nuke in London. There are FSB moles throughout British intelligence, section D can trust no one. And there’s an FSB kill squad on the streets of London looking for them. Down to the tubes. Use old tunnels. It’s all very claustrophobic.

It ends with the bomb being brought to Connie who has pointed out this a proper Cold war era bomb not some slapped together by teenagers piece of crap. She defused the nuclear part of the bomb but knew the explosive part of it would go up in her face as she removed and separated the core. While doing so she told Lucas he shouldn’t blame Harry for his time in a Russian jail. She sold him out. Ros then gets her and Lucas out and Connie goes up in smoke and I start sobbing uncontrollably. Gay I know, but that’s the day I had yesterday.

All in all though, bloody good series of Spooks.