(You are all going to be really disappointed when you win, and there’s nobody left to tea bag but each other.)

I have watched the so-called Tea Party grassroots movement in almost total silence for a bunch of reasons, like how incendiary it can be, or how it reminds us all of a three year-old temper tantrum. It has been so remarkable in its ability to be simultaneously volatile and fundamentally silly that I have contented myself in watching from the sidelines chuckling, but not mocking it in this forum. Nobody seems to care that, in the parlance of our modern times, tea parties are what little girls have with teddy bears and plastic flatware, so why should I rock the boat? But when something like this happens, you share. The Tea Party movement has chosen it’s next target: Captain America. It seems the FOX News darlings have forced an apology out of Marvel’s CEO for depicting a group similar to theirs as enemies of a comic book character that is distinctly pro-American. An enemy of Captain America is an enemy of America, and all that. Let’s let the news lay it out for you:

Issue 602 of the comic features Captain America investigating a right-wing anti-government militia group called “the Watchdogs”…  The protestors depicted are all white and carry signs adorned with slogans almost identical to those seen today in Tea Party rallies like “tea bag libs before they tea bag you” and “stop the socialists”… [The Falcon, Cap's black sidekick] then tells Captain America that he doesn’t think their plan will work because “I don’t exactly see a black man from Harlem fitting in with a bunch of angry white folks.”

This is so delicious it must come from a vagina. The vigilance of the Tea Party group as far as protecting America is so up it’s own ass, they had nothing to say about the fact that a picture book meant for children said “tea bag.” Tea Party participants then care about Americans, but not so much as to protect Marvel’s pubescent readership from Googling and then practicing a juvenile homo-erotic sexual act. As a member of your party, Representative Nancy “First Against the Wall” Elliott so recently pointed out, once children as young as 5th graders learn how to do something gay, they absolutely will. They will “wiggle their penis around in excrement” with the gusto of the comically neutered Cookie Vegetable Monster locked in the Keebler Tree during a forest fire. But no, an alleged caricature of you, a group of adults, should take precedence because you’re such a fragile minority now. As if you didn’t have Mommy FOX to put a Band-Aid on that thin skin and kiss it all better.

This depiction of a group of protesters must really remind you of yourselves, Tea Baggers, else why make a fuss? If this really is an accurate representation of you, then you have bigger problems than a fictional man in tights with gay little wings on his mask taking issue with you. I must assume you don’t find the idea of preemptively (because you have a real fear of them doing it to you first) sticking your tiny, hairy balls in liberals’ mouths distasteful, or you might have started your focus there. Politics is just one big game of nutsack tag to you isn’t it? Your idea of fun, Tea Party Nation founder Judson Phillips, is secretly or forcefully putting your balls in the mouths of other grown men. Just need to get this clear, because man, that sleepover you guys invited me to might get a little intense for me. When we were kids, we’d just fart on our friends while they slept, and we thought that was pretty badass. You sure showed  us.

This is all not to mention that you didn’t seem to notice the black character Falcon calling you a bunch of whiteys that would definitely notice if even one black man joined their ranks. Once again, if this is an accurate representation of your little mutual nut-fondling summits, you’d much rather one comic book super hero not hate you than the entire population of minorities in America. If you weren’t so behind the times that puritans would call you Nazis and throw squash at you, you’d be demanding an apology  for being portrayed as racists OR you wouldn’t be so paranoid and vain as to assume the comic had anything to do with you. Because you’re not racists. Nor do you engage in Testicle Tetris. Nor are you penciled by Luke Ross and colored by Array. You must be at least 2 of those things, otherwise why would you get your training bras in a twist?

[Marvel editor-in-chief Joe] Quesada then went on to say that Marvel would “apologize for and own up to” a series of “stupid mistakes” that led to them “accidentally identifying” one of the members of the protest group “as being a part of the Tea Party instead of a generic protest group.” He explained that they were on deadline to get the issue to the printer for publication…

Blah blah blah, and there’s and excuse and everything. I get that it’s never good to offend people when you have a business, even those people who never read comic books (it had to be brought to the group’s attention via some young republican dork) and will never be your core audience. But you don’t apologize dude! You only justify their menstrual whining when you admit you were wrong. You say you didn’t mean it, so if they don’t buy it, that’s their swollen, uncomfortable tampon, not yours. I have never heard of a time, other than our own, when someone didn’t get kicked in the vagina for demanding an apology, and we do it so much that when we finally get what we ask for, we might as well have been demanding a fertilized egg from a used condom: watery, bitter, and useless from being caught in the lambskin of free speech that was put there it wouldn’t happen. From now on, every time some righteous-ass twat-monkey that couldn’t demand a cookie from a Girl Scout for twenty bucks “calls for” an apology, I want everyone within earshot to do this: Hold up one finger, the middle one for example, to represent the 1st Amendment, then pelt the sonofabitch with Midol until the little cramp goes away. You’ll feel better almost instantly.

… and Monday morning quarterbacking is a Scumbag’s unalienable right.

(A young girl, ready to kick ass in the name of justice and Shiva, her hopes soon to be dashed against the rocks by her idiot parents.)

After a 27-hour operation and some physical therapy, little Indian girl Lakshmi Tatma, the girl born with eight arms and legs, is going to school with the right amount of appendages and a weird looking waist. This is a really good example of how most parents lie when they say they love their kids. Sure, before the operation she couldn’t sit or stand, but if you’re going to throw all that money and effort into physical therapy, why not raise her as a real-live super hero? Most 5 year-olds would cut off their own ears with a plastic knife from Wendy’s for a super-power as cool as that, and if their super power was super hearing, well, Darwin awards, right?

Her totally abusive and selfish mom Poonam, who will wear a hole to her ribcage if she pats herself on the back any more for using other people’s money to cure her daughter of Awesome’s Disease,  says, “I often try to think what she might be like today if she hadn’t had the operation – she couldn’t even sit up before and now she runs around like other children.” The answer is: tying the other children up with her Spider-Hindu webbing, claiming their seed to make young, and their milk money to drink milk, you bitch. I imagine the webbing comes with the package. I’m going on film cannon here, of course. Now all she has to look forward to is a life of unmarried, loveless, hamburger-less loneliness because you tried to make her just like all the other kids and failed by a wide margin.

“Born in a dusty farming village in India’s poorest state, Lakshmi was revered as a deity and worshipped (sic) from birth. Villagers… would seek her blessing daily and leave gifts at her bedside.”

… If ever there was evidence of the need for parenting licenses in this world, I think this case is it. This chick got

I fucking dare you to tell me kids wouldn't buy this t-shirt.

all kinds of lucky when she was born a monster. I didn’t know they gave you presents for that. After she spent her childhood doling out blessings for Lamborghinis, she could have had a full, illustrious life trying to slay Sean Astin and the kids from It. If this had happened in Africa, they would have burned her alive as a demon, or assumed her mother had sex with a fucking octopus, and sentenced her to more octopus raping, and then a lashing for getting pregnant. Hell, even in Europe the village people would hunt her down with torches. Man did Poonam drop the customer service call from fate on this one.

“Born to impoverished parents in the frequently lawless state of Bihar, in India’s volatile northeast, Lakshmi faced an uncertain future until a wealthy doctor heard of her plight and offered to operate on her for free.”

Man, that is straight out of a fucking comic book. Replace “Bihar” with “Gotham City” and “operate for free” with “Alfred” and this chick could go through her rebellious teenage years with enough time to come back and take revenge on the doctor that murdered her deadly, parasitic Siamese twin. The drama, the suspense, the bowel-rending irony. Instead we get this:

She loves playing cricket with her [under-attended future serial killer] older brother, has a tendency to boss around her newfound (sic) friends and remains firmly a daddy’s girl.

I’m sure her new-found friends find that adorable, not to mention her older brother, who probably has to let her win every game because she’s both a cripple and a deity. Her brother that spent his childhood making his own lunches and playing by himself and never winning a cow-damned game of cricket because his little sister was “special.” He may just be skinning cats in the shed now, but that little bastard is going to grow up. When he goes batshit on the Indian countryside, Poonam is going to regret taking away four of her daughter’s legs, leaving nobody alive to stop him.

(I’d look into it, but it is probably too late for that abortion.)

This is so sad, you almost don’t want to laugh at it. Not for Tobey’s sake, but for the poor kids who will grow up thinking Spider-Man is an emotional, brooding, loveless dork his whole life. Contact Music reports:

SPIDER-MAN star TOBEY MAGUIRE regularly slips into his superhero outfit away from the cameras to entertain young fans at children’s parties.

Oh, man! This exact scenario is what every other cheeky pseudo-comic book movie (Ghostbusters II, TMNT) depicts as the absolute lowest point a person can hit, provided they didn’t get their masters at clown college. And you are purportedly some kind of movie star. You can’t try to pretend it is for the kids, either, dude. You just want a group of people that don’t know to throw food at you when you show up in the costume that dragged a lot of our childhoods into Alvin & the Chipmunk hell.

But Maguire admits he’s not always as agile as he appears in the films and sometimes struggles to pull off the cartwheels and wall jumps Spider-Man is known for.

Well you better figger it, broseph, because your ass is out! That’s right, Sony and Marvel, and whoever else has had their heads up their asses for almost a decade, have finally decided to reboot the Spidey franchise. I know some people were willing to put up with the disjointed plots, the 85% disappointing casting choices, and the overabundance of romantic subplots, but I found every minute of all three films excruciating. When they announced that Spider-Man 4 was in production, I despaired, because by now there is a whole new generation of children who think that the Raimi helmed flicks were the quintessential renderings of one of my favorite childhood memories.

Well, no more. They’re starting over from scratch, presumably to shore up their numbers for the Civil War flick Marvel seems to be gearing up for, and I couldn’t be happier if I could cure Maura Tierney’s tit cancer by sucking on them. No more girly-ass Maguire, no common looking Mary Jane. And for the love of fuck, no goddamned origin story.

Peter Parker is going back to high school when the next Spider-Man hits theaters in the summer of 2012… with a film based on a script by James Vanderbilt that focuses on a teenager grappling with both contemporary human problems and amazing super-human crises.

Oh. You. Bastards. Seriously, is there anyone in the movie-going public that doesn’t have at least a vague idea of the origin of Spider-Man? Do we have to start every comic book franchise with a tissue-full of anal fan testicle-lickery, wasting time that could have been spent on a new, compelling story and half-exciting action? Spider-Man was at his most compelling as he got older and he wasn’t having schoolyard fights with the class bully or bravely battling acne. Give us ten minutes at the beginning of the film to bring the retards you seem to think you need to coddle up to speed, or maybe a few flashbacks. Then kill the shit out of Gwen Stacey and we’ll start from there.

“We have had a once-in-a-lifetime collaboration and friendship with Sam and Tobey and they have given us their best for the better part of the last decade. This is a bittersweet moment for us because while it is hard to imagine Spider-Man in anyone else’s hands, I know that this was a day that was inevitable,” said Matt Tolmach, president of Columbia Pictures.

Oh, stop it. Bosses that have to make a public statement in these cases are the worst. You fired them because a 12-year-old blind girl could have better done Spidey justice. Any other boss would talk shit about their incompetent asses for a few months, calling them fairies and ‘mos, scaring the piss out of the other employees and letting them know that stroking each other’s prostates over the course of three films does not a franchise (or an employed person) make.

Now, one of your better ideas was to hire competant, adult actors as villains. Bring back Willem Dafoe as your Green Goblin, no issues there. Oh, and John Malkovich, while he might have made a better Mysterio, was a decent choice for the Vulture for Spider-Man 4, especially since you seem intent on starting over from the beginning, and the Vulture was one of the earliest villains in the books. Oh, and I swear to Satan, if you dick up the Venom/Carnage story again, I will send my minions to burn your studio down so fast you’d think someone lit a cigarette near all the leftover Raimi farts.