Shannon Tweed must be so disappointed

So apparently Gene Simmons's son is a dirty plagiarist who has lately been posing as a comic writer/artist. Nick Simmons, "creator" of Radical Publishing's Incarnate, thought he could get away with blatantly copying art from Tite Kubo's Bleach, one of the most popular comic titles in the world.

Bleach on the left (B+W), Simmons's Incarnate on the right (color):

Amusingly, while there had been whispered accusations of theft dating back months to when Incarnate #1 debuted, this story did not make news until broken earlier this week on a GameFAQs forum thread. Reading that thread now, what's funny is that the topic creator, superbot400, initially seems complimentary toward Simmons and is merely intrigued at the "inspiration" taken from Bleach. As the thread goes on, even as superbot400 uncovers more and more damning comparisons, the general reaction is more curiosity than outrage. The thread quickly caught the notice of the Bleach fan community, however, and we know where things escalated from there. In no time at all, the story blew up and spread across major comics and anime/manga sites, prompting Radical to immediately suspend publishing on Incarnate.

I get that drawing is hard. In lieu of live models, it is quite common for artists to use images they've seen, perhaps in the works of others, as references for poses. Sometimes the line between harmless borrowing or homage and outright plagiarism becomes blurred.

This is not one of those difficult cases. Before anyone starts to feel sympathy for Nick Simmons, let me assure you that it's not just one or two panels that he has stolen. It's, um, more than that. If that's still not enough, let me direct you to Simmons's deviantART page, where, in his first journal entry, he warns, "If you steal my artwork, you will pay. In cash. Spank you very much and good night." SPANK ME?! I think not. What especially disgusts me about this whole thing is that Simmons, in addition to stealing from Bleach and other manga, even plagiarized amateur work from other deviantART members.

Of course, now we're all just waiting to hear how Nick, or, better yet, Gene Simmons, will respond. From my perspective, all Nick can really do is apologize, then fade away and enjoy his father's money in quiet. Or I guess he could skip the apology part altogether. Laying low may not be that easy, however, considering that the Simmons family apparently has a fairly successful reality show running on A&E (season 5 set to premiere in less than a month).

In the interest of objectivity, I should note that Simmons had previously admitted to relying heavily on a team of "assistants" provided by Studio IL. I can't find very much info at all on any of these people, but I wouldn't be surprised if Radical contracted Studio IL to make Simmons look good by basically doing all the work, while Radical just used the Gene Simmons connection to drum up interest in the book. So there is a very slim possibility that this plagiarism is Studio IL's doing, although that would not make much difference for Nick Simmons, who has, in any case, been all too happily taking credit for the work of Tite Kubo, among others.

I just feel bad for cover artist Jo Chen (Runaways, Street Fighter, Buffy Season Eight), who got roped into turning in fine work on a shameful project.

My Top 5 Fat Guys of TV and Film

Kevin Smith's size in the news recently reminded me of my high school biology class. I don't remember much from that class, but I do remember my teacher saying that, aside from fat people, homosexuals were the only group that society at large was still allowed to openly discriminate against. My biology teacher was not at all a fat man, so I thought it an admirable show of compassion for a group that, true enough, most people were all too happy to deride. I don't remember what it had to do with biology, but I learned something that day. It's hard out there for a fatso, apparently even for a figure of Smith's stature.

Smith enjoys success as a director and screenwriter, but his public embarrassment got me to thinking about the struggles that fat guys face trying to make it in front of the camera. When Orson Welles literally exploded in the sound booth for Transformers: The Movie, it was not only a once great actor and filmmaker who died that day. That was the final nail in the coffin for the cultured, intelligent fat man in Hollywood. Looking back in search of great fat guy roles from the last twenty-five years, truly it is slim pickings. Like Welles, James Earl Jones possesses an awesome voice recognized all around the world, but when was the last time he was given a meaty live-action role to chew on? Rarer by far than the eloquent black, the respectable fat guy is the veritable white whale of screen acting. These days, the token fat character is often a jolly stereotype, ostensibly easygoing and unashamed, yet clearly meaning, with an impervious-to-criticism heart of gold, to discourage open mockery of innately hilarious physical attributes. Take Hugo from Lost, for example. I loathe him, not because he is morbidly obese, but because he is shallow and uncomplicated. Yet, when I criticize his character, I am automatically denounced as a "size-ist." In my opinion, characters like Hugo do more harm to fat actors than I ever could.

Nevertheless, I have scoured my memories to produce a handful of legitimately inspiring fat film and television characters. So, without further ado, let's get rolling (not literally) with my list of "The Top 5 Respectable Fat Guy Performances of the Last Quarter-Century," though I should warn you that there may be tears.

In the realm of the respectable rotund, John Rhys-Davies probably has an edge by virtue of being British. Just as much as Patrick Stewart is usually the go-to actor for refined bald man roles, Rhys-Davies is the guy you want to lend a bit of class to a fat guy role. You'd think I could fill this list with just his performances, but the sad reality is that, just like Patrick Stewart, Rhys-Davies has been relegated mostly to token supporting roles in film. That's disregarding his slumming it in direct-to-Sci-Fi Channel features. His finest work was on television as Professor Maximillian Arturo in Sliders.

As the scholarly elder of the motley crew of dimension-hopping Sliders, the professor was the unsung best character on the show. Rhys-Davies delivered consistently the most layered (multi-dimensional?) performance, depicting the professor as an egotistical intellectual, clearly threatened by his young student's genius, yet also proudly supporting him as mentor and surrogate father. Q-Ball was the brain, Wade the heart, and Rembrandt the soul, but I always found Arturo to be the true guts of the team. Through the more socially challenging alternate universes of the first two seasons (the good ones), it was his sagacity and informed morality that all of his compatriots relied upon to guide them.

Alas, in keeping with the historically shabby treatment of portly actors, Rhys-Davies was fired in the third season and replaced by Kari Wuhrer, his character seen off with one of the least dignified deaths in television history, perhaps topped only by every other character exit on what proved unexpectedly to be the most sadistic show of all time.


Truthfully, I don't remember very much about Mr. Belvedere. I just remember that, as a kid, I wanted a Mr. Belvedere of my own AND I kind of wanted to be him.

Apparently, the Mr. Belvedere character first appeared in Gwen Davenport's 1947 novel, Belvedere. He was first portrayed on screen by the non-fat Clifton Webb in the film Sitting Pretty. My Mr. Belvedere was the American sitcom incarnation played by Christopher Hewett.

Like Professor Arturo, Hewett's Lynn Belvedere, English Butler to the American middle-class Owens family, was a man of fierce will and ego yet also wisdom and humanity, alternating between butting heads with the youngest of the Owens children and lifting the brat up upon his figurative shoulders as a support through all the trials of growing up. And, while I'm sure, like most family-oriented sitcoms of its vintage, the show was often ridiculous and has aged horribly, my young self found Mr. Belvedere to be simply the classiest character on television.


Middle America may remember kung fu film legend Sammo Hung for his role as Sammo Law, fish-out-of-water detective on the Walker, Texas Ranger lead-in program, Martial Law, co-starring Arsenio Hall and Kelly Hu. Yeah, I know, there's not one thing right in that statement, yet it really did happen. On Martial Law, Sammo was saddled with the wretched double of being the gentle fat man AND the no-speak-English babyface Chinaman. A much better showcase for his abilities was the Hong Kong martial arts-crime film SPL: Sha Po Lang (AKA Kill Zone).

As the untouchable Triad boss Wong Po, he was about as far as you could get from Sammo Law. Fat Marlon Brando was a sad, disgusting joke, but kingpin Sammo was truly fearsome. Part of it was the weirdness of seeing Sammo as a bad guy, but this was far more than just a novelty performance. When a determined detective resorted to fabricating evidence to finally bring in the Triad boss, Wong Po did not stop at merely unraveling the flimsy scheme. As he totally annihilated the entire police squad, ordering hits on those who had the gall to cross him, and pummeling a few of them himself, any notions of a slapstick Sammo went out the window. And whereas Rhys-Davies and Hewett were simply the best actors for roles that were not explicitly written as fat, Sammo integrated his corpulence as an asset to his performance. Wong Po's luxurious proportions were a proof of his absolute power.


Yeah, I could only find three, and I was seriously reaching for that last one. Shall we widen the list to include fat females as well?


Rosie O'Donnell is a worthless piece of scum and a total waste of space. I hate her with every fiber of my being.

Free Money

Stupid Apolo Anton Ohno, after coming in third behind two South Koreans in the 1000 m short track speed skating final, tries to console himself by pointing out that he has medaled in three separate Olympics, which none of the other competitors can boast. Not to suggest that Ohno is anything less than world-class, but does he not realize that there is a limit to how many representatives South Korea is permitted to send to the Olympics? Probably even the twentieth best South Korean short track speed skater would still be at least at Ohno's level. As in the 1500 m final, the real story in this race was the cutthroat competitiveness among the South Koreans themselves.

Just Dance

Figure skating may be the marquee event at the Winter Olympics, but I was not expecting much from the men's competition. Watching the Turin 2006 games, I found it lacking the aesthetic beauty of the ladies and pairs. Presumably the emphasis was more on the power and athleticism of the men, which only made it all the more pointless when most of them did not come close to meeting the ridiculous technical demands of their own routines. After the first few guys fell on their asses during last night's way too long programs, it looked like I was in for more of the same from Vancouver 2010, and I ended up falling asleep through the middle rounds. But I woke up just in time to see American Evan Lysacek's performance. I knew how very close to the lead Lysacek was after the short program, so, after seeing him turn in as nearly flawless a routine as I've ever seen, I was finally interested.

Evgeni Plushenko, leading by the slimmest of margins after the short program, would be the final skater of the night. Four years ago, the men's singles event might as well have been "the Evgeni Plushenko show." Alone in his mastery of the quadruple toe loop, he was the only guy delivering on the one promise of the men's competition. The other guys probably should have been competing against the ladies with their yawn-inducing triples. But, at age twenty-seven in Vancouver, Plushenko was now old for his sport and coming out of a three-year retirement. In the short program, he remarkably still had the quad, and that alone carried him above his younger rivals, but his landing had been uncomfortably close compared to four years ago. Moreover, the announcers had made much of the fact that he had little going for him outside of his jumps. Lysacek was younger, fitter, and his free skate routine more strategically choreographed to take advantage of a scoring system that awarded bonus points for jumps in the second half. His immaculate performance had been the only clean one all night. But Lysacek had not attempted the quad. With Plushenko expected to be weaker in other areas, that left the quad as the one open door for the Russian. So, with all eyes on him, the defending champion was finally under real pressure to be as good as he could possibly be. What more could any viewer have asked for?

Of course, Plushenko knows very well that the quad is who he is, and he probably needed no extra incentive to go for it. So he did. Going for broke, he skated according to his own demanding standards for the sport, committing no errors and landing his quads cleanly. Yet somehow he still lost. Too sloppy seems to have been the ruling.

Seeing the scores, I wasn't sure what to think. I was at first reminded of Athens 2004, when Russian gymnast Alexei Nemov's high bar routine received a lower score than American Paul Hamm's far less exciting performance, leading to an eruption of boos that stalled the competition for several minutes. I didn't expect any such outcry from the Canadian crowd here, but, seeing Plushenko's sulky expression during the medal ceremony, I was then reminded of Russian female gymnast Svetlana Khorkina, who in 2004 came in second in the all-around. Khorkina would shortly thereafter claim that the judging had been fixed in advance to award American Carly Patterson the gold. I had no doubt whatsoever that Plushenko would voice similar complaints against the judging. Sure enough, he has, and, though I wish he could have handled matters with Nemov's grace, I have to agree with Plushenko.

Shaun White himself said that his gold medal halfpipe performance from Turin would, at best, have barely qualified him for a spot in the finals at Vancouver. In the world of men's figure skating, however, even fours years after Turin, still nobody else was able to land the quad like Plushenko. If anything, it seemed the quad was this time given less significance, with Lysacek, among other top contenders, not even attempting it. Of course I have no idea how the scoring system works now, but I suspect the judges, having heard my complaints after Turin, have been deliberately trying to steer the sport away from the blooper reel of hopeless men feeling pressured to go for tricks beyond their abilities. The thing is, even though I found the Turin programs mostly a joke, I cannot support this step backward. It would be one thing if there were no men who could pull off the quad. If Plushenko is the only guy doing it cleanly and consistently, that just means that he's in a class of his own. Maybe, pound for pound, Lysacek was the best. But this isn't boxing. If nobody else can hang, that doesn't mean you lower the standard to accommodate everyone else while punishing Plushenko.

I understand that Lysacek won fairly according to the rules as they are, and I don't mean to fault his steady performance. I just don't think those rules are fair. The quad is unquestionably the most challenging maneuver in figure skating, yet it is not even valued at a full point more than the triple axel, which everybody performs! The reward is in no way equal to the risk, and, as it is now, figure skating is no more a sport than Dancing with the Stars.

Heroes, Volume 5

I wasn't expecting to ever bring up Heroes again on this blog. I thought the show was imbecilic to begin with, but it did have some rare virtues, namely its brisk, filler-free pace and its resistance to such suspense conventions as weekly cliffhanger endings and "raise two questions with every (non-)answer" (seriously, who actually likes that). The writing only deteriorated over the next two seasons, and, by "Volume 4" (which was actually the second half of season 3, for those confused about how long the show has been on), I was watching only for the unintended humor offered by the repeated blatant lapses in logic and continuity. After having missed the first several episodes of this season (mainly because I didn't care enough to know when they were on), I hadn't planned on watching any more Heroes. A Hulu marathon on an empty day caught me up, however, and now, having disparaged the show previously, I feel obligated to give this past season some due props. This may have been the most dramatic positive turnaround a series has ever seen. The fittingly titled "Volume 5: Redemption" was, not only the best season ever of Heroes, but actually a pretty good show besides.

SPOILERS BELOW

The writing was definitely improved, exhibiting a firmer grasp of the show's characters and concepts, as well as some actual attention to continuity. This was immediately evident in the largely rewritten main dude, Peter Petrelli. This was a guy who, in (the admittedly strike-shortened) season 2, left his romantic interest stranded in a post-apocalyptic future and, not only made no concerted effort to save her, but has never mentioned her again since. It's probably too late to rescue that subplot, but at least they remembered that, before he became preoccupied with fighting other superhumans, he was once dedicated to helping people as a nurse. For at least the first few episodes of season 4, using his powers to save people as a paramedic, he became a likable, even admirable character, soulful and empathetic, instead of selfish and obnoxious as before. Meanwhile, his nemesis, Sylar, who over two seasons experienced more preposterous identity crises than most pro wrestlers over their careers, finally underwent a change of heart that I can almost buy. But the show's improvement was due, first and foremost, to the addition of Robert Knepper ("T-Bag" from Prison Break) to the cast as Samuel Sullivan, the season's antagonist.


Knepper's tragic performance as Samuel, in many ways a more polished version of his scene-stealing character from Prison Break, was, not only the best character this series had ever had by far, but also the most compelling new character this TV season, and perhaps the best TV villain in a long time. With the power and charisma of a Magneto, this carnival proprietor was exactly the sort of antagonist that this story had been sorely needing. Perpetually aware and justifiably mindful of the bitter division between the gifted and the normals, he offered his fellow specials a home and family, while naming society his enemy. His case would come to exemplify everything frightening about the emergence of a new class of human. At the same time, those specials who answered the call, to defend that world that had persecuted them, would serve as a reminder that it was ultimately their choices as human beings, and not their superpowers, that defined them. Of course, that was even truer of Samuel.

At first glance, he was a masterful schemer, always appearing at just the right time and place and with remarkable perception to offer the heroes guidance and promises. Because you knew he was the antagonist of the story, you assumed he was playing a long game, manipulating them for unknown but assuredly nefarious ends. But his promises were surprisingly not empty, his advice was sound and based in truth, and, even when seemingly exposed and backed into a corner, he would own up to his failings and find his way out with reason instead of lies. Even as he made his moves, seemingly setting his plan into motion, his endgame grew increasingly ambiguous, leaving you wondering if maybe he himself had not made up his mind and was in fact walking the line. Most telling were the glimpses of Samuel in his private moments, revealing, not an evil mastermind, but a spiritually fragile man driven by the same needs, desires, and disappointments that drive us all. As he recruited specials with offers of sanctuary, constantly reminding them that they were different from normal people, perhaps he was really trying to convince them that they were like him, because he was the one that needed them. And perhaps, in the end, he was deceiving himself more than anyone else. The more you learned about Samuel, the more you could not help rooting for him. It was not that you wanted to see evil triumph over the heroes, but you hoped against hope that life might work out for him. His campaign finally arriving at its inevitable end, his arc was a better X-Men story than any of those live-action movies.

Season 4 was hardly perfect--the plot still had its share of holes, and most of the returning characters were still trash--but Knepper's performance made it all worth it, delivering a truly three-dimensional character in the most unlikely of places. His accent, attire, and age sometimes seemed off, but all that was overshadowed by his thoroughly convincing command of the character's psychology, selling in turn his tremendous charisma, ambiguity, and human frailty. He got me feeling more for Samuel Sullivan than I have for most characters on any number of better series, and he made Heroes, week after week, the one show I looked forward to more than any other. Although a season 5 has yet to be confirmed, the end of this volume set up the next. Samuel's story was fairly well resolved, however, and I still don't give a damn about what lies ahead for the heroes. If it does come to pass, I will probably watch, but if it doesn't, Heroes will at least have ended on a high point.

Mercenaries Reunion

Famitsu (scans at biohaze.com) has revealed the final two playable characters for Resident Evil 5: Gold Edition's "Mercenaries Reunion" (as well as the significance of the mode's title). Get ready to welcome back Chris and Jill's original sidekicks, Rebecca Chambers and Barry Burton!

I believe "Mercenaries Reunion" is just the old "Mercenaries" mode from RE5, but Capcom is adding eight new playable characters. Previously, they had revealed Excella (Wesker's female partner) and Josh Stone (Sheva's mentor). Four other "characters" were actually two extra costumes each for Chris and Sheva. For the last two slots, I was expecting something lame, like another pair of alternate outfits, though I had my fingers crossed for Leon and Claire. This reveal may actually be even better than that.

Within the series timeline, Rebecca has not even been mentioned since the original Resident Evil. Barry was last seen briefly in RE3, but then he was seemingly written out of continuity in Umbrella Chronicles. Series devotees have been waiting a long time for Capcom to reveal whatever happened to these two. Unfortunately, this being just a silly bonus mode, there won't likely be any answers here.

Of course, the real attraction of Gold Edition is probably the "Lost in Nightmares" scenario, a new chapter expanding upon and making playable the flashback sequence that had Chris and Jill tangling with Wesker in 2006. Maybe at some point during the mission, Chris and Jill will reminisce about old times with Rebecca and Barry, leading to a flashback within a flashback.

That's not very likely, but this is still cool news. Really, it's kind of what I wanted out of RE5's "Mercenaries" in the first place. Back in RE4, the surprise guest appearances of HUNK and Wesker were genuine crowd-pleasers, and they and Krauser had unique signature moves (HUNK's neckbreaker, Wesker's thrust punch, Krauser's infected arm) that provided very different experiences from playing as Leon. In RE5, Jill and Wesker were compulsory inclusions. They were still cool and did have a few unique weapons and skills, but every character had moves for every situation (neckbreakers, stomps, etc.), so nobody felt quite so distinct anymore. I don't know if Rebecca and Barry will possess any amazing techniques, but at least they'll bring the fanservice.

Interestingly, unlike RE5 Chris and Jill, HD Rebecca and Barry are instantly recognizable as the same people from the GameCube games. In fact, without any direct comparison shots, I could almost mistake them for the same models. I don't know whether this is a deliberate artistic decision or just laziness. Regardless, the Rebecca render is especially awesome (although I sadly don't expect there to actually be any dual-wielding going on).

That Yellow Bastard

So Nintendo has been running the "Pikachu-Colored Pichu" event, wherein a shiny Pichu for use in Pokemon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum has been made available for DS download exclusively at participating GameStop locations across the country. Naturally I was there on day one. Too bad Pichu wasn't.

Now, I want it clearly understood that this was not my first rodeo. Having attended every Toys"R"Us Pokemon event dating back to the Mew giveaway for 3rd-gen (back when we actually had to wait in line for hours to trade with a single sweaty employee packing a loaded GBA cartridge), I've been doing this for a while, so you can well imagine I've got the procedures down pat. Drive over at twilight, park in the back lot, duck my head low, turn on my DS and start downloading over wireless from the safety of my vehicle, all to the soothing ambiance of passing young children explaining Pokemon to their parents in the background.

As I drove over to that GameStop, the plan remained the same. I parked my car outside the store and readied my DS to download the Mystery Gift.

No signal.

I couldn't understand what the problem was. I was parked even closer to the presumed source than I had been with any of the Toys"R"Us events. I could only guess that maybe GameStop's Pichu-distributing server was not as dispersive as the ones at Toys"R"Us. That left me with only one option, off-putting as it might be.

I walked into the store, knowing full well that there would be almost no way to hide myself in that tiny establishment. Seeing customers waiting in line and browsing the shelves, I could only hope that clerks and patrons would keep each other occupied as I made myself as inconspicuous as possible, a lone adult male playing Nintendo DS while standing in the corner of a GameStop store.

Still nothing.

A less determined man might have given up at this point, but that's not me. I got in line behind two customers and waited for assistance with my Pokemon download. Some minutes later, my turn came up and, thankfully, there was no one else waiting behind me.

"Um, do you guys have this Pokemon thing?" I asked weakly.

"Oh, you mean the pre-order for Heart Gold and Soul Silver?" replied the young female clerk.

"Um, no, the poster on the door says there's a free download?"

She looked baffled. Clearly, I was dealing with an amateur here. Then I noticed that she had, sitting right in front of her, a stack of fliers advertising this very promotion.

"Uh, it's this thing," I said, pointing to the fliers.

She picked one up as if noticing it for the first time.

"Hey," she called over to the other clerk, also a young woman. "Do you know anything about this Pokemon download? It's a Pikachu-colored Pikachu? Pichu?"

"Oh, yeah, I think there was an e-mail about that. It might not be set up yet."

This second clerk was understandably distracted, however, with helping an older lady customer, who was there trading in games with her 6'4" thirty-year-old son. I guessed the games were his, though she had been the one doing all the talking. As their cashier processed the transactions, I noticed the mom looking at me. I smiled sheepishly in recognition before turning away.

"Um, can you set it up?" I asked the first clerk.

"Oh, they're supposed to send us a thing," answered the second clerk. "I don't know if we got it yet. (Boss) didn't mention anything about it, and I have no idea how this works."

"Sorry," apologized the first clerk.

And so I walked out of there bitter, ashamed, empty-handed. The Pichu would have to wait another day.

(Pichu Bros. perform the Fusion Dance to DNA Digivolve into Captain Planet. Probably.)