(All quiet on the Westchester front.)
Yesterday I was gushing over Claremont's "placeholder" issues, and how much they added to the impressions that the X-Men were a cohesive whole, and more, a family.
As it happens, I stand by that completely. That doesn't mean this particular issue isn't a total waste of my time.
Not that it doesn't start well. The X-Men playing baseball will always be one of my most enduring memories of the franchise, even if at this point they don't seem to be entirely clear on the "no powers" rule. I'm not sure that this is the best way to commemorate Moira's imminent departure (I've never met a Scot who had any interest in hitting anything with a baseball bat other than a Sassenach's skull), but it's nice that they're trying.
After that, though, it all become pretty formulaic, going on boring. I'll grant that it's probably unfair to pour scorn on a story that has the X-Men fighting their own Danger Room - Star Trek: TNG wouldn't drive that plot into the ground until over a decade later - but it still feels entirely obvious, and there's not much more layered on top of it. Jean's description of today's villain Warhawk as a "second-rate Colossus" is amusing, but it's lampshading the fact that there really isn't anything particularly interesting going on here. A man with metal skin arrives to "test" the X-Men, and he gets his head handed to him. It's nice to finally see Colossus toss aside his self-doubt and pass on a fist panini, but that's hardly enough to sustain a full issue.
So what is there to say, here? I guess it's interesting - though far from surprising - to note that Phoenix is now having trouble marshaling her power, leading her to go down like a bitch within seconds of Warhawk arriving on the scene. Clearly the difficulties in dealing with the awesome interstellar powers of Phoenix continue. It's also a nice character moment (once again) for Wolverine that he saves Cyclops from certain death because only a face-to-face confrontation for Jean's affections will satisfy him.
I guess that will have to do, this time around.
This issue takes place over the course of a few hours.
The vegetation is still pretty green, but we discussed yesterday how fan-wanking was the only way to get past that (or at least, the only way I was prepared to consider). This is also Moira's last day in New York, presumably because Xavier has a) learned exactly why he was having terrifying dreams, and b) found himself some space pussy to concern himself with. Neither of those require that we shuffle dates around.
Wednesday 10th February, 1982.
1 Marvel year = 3.85 standard years.
(Storm is 34 years old.)
|"I am Ororo -- called Storm --|
mistress of the winds."
The 35-nation international conference on European security resumes in Madrid.
"A little surprise the professor said he was cooking up to keep us on our toes -- the latest incarnation of Colosso! He's all yours, er... Colossus. " - Cyclops faces history's lamest robot once again.