Shadow Thief shows that hard work and complete lunacy pay off.

We all know and love Shadow Thief, the shadow-based DC villain who used to annoy Hawkman and Hawkgirl on a regular basis.

But did you know that Shadow Thief's origin is completely stupid and hilarious?

Grab some popcorn and take a seat.

Shadow Thief, or Carl Sands, first appeared in The Brave and the Bold #36, which was among the many awesome comics collected in Showcase Presents Hawkman vol.1. Like all good villains, Shadow Thief likes to pass the time by remembering his own origin story.

"If only I were a shadow..." For most people this would be a fleeting, whimsical thought that one would be sort of embarassed about. But not this guy. He turns it into a mission.

He read up on shadow facts and legends. And then built something that he could have seen at (or, hell, stolen from) any children's science museum. But wait for this:

"I've got to do more research!" That is so crazy. That's like "Dammit! This quarter didn't really materialize in my ear! I must work harder! I must find a way!"

His relentless practice of children's science experiments and magic tricks is interrupted by one of the countless aliens who visited America during the 1960s.

My favourite thing about those panels is that somewhere in the short time that Carl met and rescued the alien, he managed to talk about how much he loves shadows.

Dude, you can have, presumably, any wish granted by this alien, and you still are sticking with the shadow thing? Aren't there better abilities than being able to control shadows?

Alright, actually, that is pretty cool.

You know who were probably really surprised are all the sensible people who were like "Seriously, Carl, enough with the shadows! It's never going to happen! Get a job!" Or his mom. "What would you like for your birthday this year, Carl? And DON'T say another flashlight!"

Once again a human triumphs over science and possibility and uses it to rob museums and banks. I salute you, Shadow Thief.

Breaking the Glass Ceiling...With Nunchucks!

Temping agencies have discovered a way to market themselves as something other than a last resort for broke artists and musicians.


Sure a guy can dream of being a cowboy or an astronaut or heck, Superman, but us ladies don't have such high hopes.

Iris is your average executive assistant: hot, demure, loves serving tea.

But when a business deal goes awry...

BAM! Iris fucks shit up!

Trading one racist, creepy fantasy for another? Sure! Completely trite? Of course!

But then, this comic breaks new ground.

WHAT? I've been lead to believe that's impossible! I hope Batman never meets this dude, the most perceptive random thug ever!

Anyway, don't expect a comic full of Excel spreadsheets and dry cleaning that needs to be picked up.

But do expect to be told "I'm an executive assistant" over and over again.

Review of Either a Benevolent Conspiracy or Fever-Induced Hallucination, By Johnathan

So this is a theory that I came up with on the bus a couple of days ago, while staring at someone's hat. I did have a pretty wicked fever at the time, so bear that in mind.

The hat that I was staring at was a pretty bad fake leopard print. I eventually had to look out the window, which I did just in time to see someone drive by carrying a faux-leopard handbag. My over-heated brain began ticking over: 'There sure is a lot of leopard print in the world,' I thought, 'I wonder if anyone wears real leopard any more, since it looks so tacky.' That's when it hit me: that's why there's so much awful spotted merchandise in the world. It's a vast conspiracy by the manufacturers and consumers of such goods to save the noble leopard from the fur industry! Every pair of stretch pants or set of seat covers adorned with that distinctive pattern acts as another nail in the leopard-fur industry's coffin. What right-minded society maven would want to wear leopard after seeing it stretched across the generous buttocks of the woman who manages her cuticles down at the local Nail Abyss?

Watch out for some sort of faux wolf pelt to become the newest NASCAR enthusiast's accessory, thus vindicating my theories.