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NERDING DAY

Nerding Day: The Shield 🌭

Last month of this very year, Archie Comics published The Mighty Crusaders #1: The Shield. It was a lifeless reboot of a 60-year-old knockoff superhero team, which isn’t as mean-spirited as it sounds since that describes most comics, but the reason we’re talking about it is because it was written and illustrated by Rob Liefeld. And it may very well be the most Liefeldian thing ever made, which is absolutely as mean-spirited as it sounds.

If you’re not familiar, Rob Liefeld was a comics illustrator from the ’90s who could sort of draw a few human parts and nothing else. Everyone noticed this, talked about it, and hated it, but they just kept letting him do it and here we are. The Shield’s second page shows a group of superheroes who look like they were mocked up this morning under the words “The Pinebrook Nazarene Youth Camp Super Duper Squad (Option Four).”

It’s okay if you don’t know the classic Archie heroes Flygirl, Captain Commando, Jaguar, Black Hood, Comet, Fox, and Lancelot Strong. They don’t do anything in this issue other than stand here hiding their difficult-to-draw feet behind their (maybe) office’s only furniture– a rectangle drawn by a 4th grader learning how to draw shapes. One hallmark of Rob Liefeld’s writing is that every character gets one small text box explaining which superhero archetype they are, no second part to this list, and then the comic gets cancelled.

Let’s talk about superhero archetypes for a second. Comic writers have been using them as shorthand for decades, and we’re fine with it. A character in a third party superhero world might run into a “clearly Batman guy” or “whatever their Fantastic Four is.” We don’t need to know everything about them; they’re just there to establish the setting so the author can show us his unique take on the genre. Rob Liefeld doesn’t do it like that. He thinks his idea of an 85th Captain America guy with no interesting twist totally rules. The Shield isn’t even his first “exactly like Captain America guy.” He was so good at drawing Captain America he produced a comic called Fighting American, who was a guy in a Captain America costume who carried a round shield.

The Fighting American had a team just barely not called The Avengers with a guy named Smash who turned into a giant monster when he got angry and a viking god of thunder who doth verily spaketh like this. You probably believe me, but I feel like I should make it clear I’m not kidding:

If you’re wondering how they got away with this, they mostly didn’t. They were sued and Fighting American was legally prohibited from throwing his shield which didn’t matter because the company went bankrupt and Rob created another Captain America called Agent America which also didn’t matter because lawyers told him to stop fucking making Captain Americas. Every entertainment industry blindly regurgitates the same idea over and over hoping it will work again, but it’s rare to see this pathology in one specific person. Which brings us back to The Shield, the (at least) fourth Captain America Rob Liefeld illustrated. 

The Shield is in his (maybe) apartment, sitting alone on his rectangle. A hot dog menu levitates? Rob Liefeld, without exaggeration, one of the biggest successes in modern art and he has remained incurious about how to draw any single thing in 30 years. This chair’s existence is very much like if Richard Donner asked a makeup artist which side the camera things film from.

Because art is life, this world-famous illustrator drew The Shield watching a panel of himself from later in the comic on his TV. He lives in a cement box decorated with only a shape and a lamp, and yet even this was too much clutter for Rob to remember to draw the levitating hot dog menu.

Agents wearing the kind of shoulder pads Rob knows how to draw burst in through The Shield’s open window and knobless door! Chunks from unrelated objects follow them in! They’re here for his invincible armor and, wait did they say invincible armor, oh no, that explains why none of their weapons are going to work.

In stakes Rob Liefeld seems to think are high, these faceless agents from an organization we don’t know harmlessly shoot the superhero for reasons not made clear. He barely has to move to beat them, which is good because Rob thinks he knows how a human arm connects to a torso at this one angle. He’s wrong, but my main point is this isn’t storytelling. It’s something a bored nerd would look down at during Algebra class and not really remember drawing.

Rob seems to have lost track of shit himself. The Shield brags about how he is super duper like his suit, explains to the reader how no he’s not, then headbutts and punches through everyone’s helmets with what is clearly super duper strength. Maybe? We’re not told what their hats are made of. They’re not quite motorcycle or SWAT helmets– they’re more like what you’d draw if you were an untalented artist falling off a bridge and almost had time to draw one last human head. Anyway, over the course of five pages of low effort storyboards for a Ugandan kung fu movie, we are told and shown several contradictory things about our main character while learning nothing about anything. It’s magnificent. If you showed this to the kindest comics editor in the world, they would say, “Tell the kid who drew this they should maybe be a fucking dentist.”

This goddamn fight is still going. He punches one guy so hard they leave the confinement of his 3000 square foot cement box apartment and land on a Frank Miller spatter paint background. If you were to interpret this as real art, you’d say it was revealing something about a dark brutality within this hero. But it’s not that. This art says nothing more than “I didn’t know how to draw The Shield’s love seat from the side.”

Jesus Christ, he is still handing out this one-sided beating while he thinks the Wikipedia entry for The Shield to himself.

After maiming whoever these men were, he rides one of them out the window. It’s not clear what floor he’s on, but his building is a mid-century cement rectangle in the city’s Gray Nothing District. There’s something more amazing happening here, though. Rob Liefeld is known for his reluctance to draw feet, and it’s almost genius how he managed to hide The Shield’s feet three different times on a single page. He had to savagely murder one cop(?) to do it, but there it is– a master at work.

It’s not over! The Shield gets shot a few times by a Pictionary drawing that was going to be a helicopter, so he leaps up onto it. Which means, wait, mounted aircraft guns don’t even jostle him? And they sent in eight(?) dudes in egg carton helmets to take him down with small arms? Holy shit, do I know more about helicopters than Rob Liefeld?

I’m being silly. Rob Liefeld knows parts of the helicopter I couldn’t even conceive of. Like how The Shield is clinging to the helicopter’s… I guess you’d call it its dorsal fin? Then he reaches into the windshield, pulls out its important wires, and raises them up above his head. I have no notes about raising your hands while you’re on a moving helicopter’s windshield and can’t think of a single very specific thing Rob Liefeld is forgetting about helicopters.

You know what? This all seems weirdly familiar like I’ve seen it before. And not in the usual Rob Liefeld way. I mean a Captain America guy spending entire pages beating the fuck out of a room full of government(?) agents… that’s from Civil War, the extremely popular Marvel comics event they based a billion dollar film on. Here, I’ll show them side-by-side:

The similarities end there, though. It’s not like in Civil War, Captain America jumped out the window and punched through the windshield of a helicopter. It was a jet.

Obviously I’m not accusing internationally known haver-of-original-ideas, Rob Liefeld, of plagiarism. There are still some major differences between these two sequences. For instance, The Shield was attacked in his apartment and Captain America wasn’t. But wait, oh no, I just remembered Luke Cage’s scene in Civil War.

Oh fuck, I think that rectangle graveyard might have even been Rob trying to draw Luke Cage’s couch from a less interesting angle. So look, maybe it wasn’t on purpose that Rob Liefeld did a shot-for-shot ripoff of one of the most well-known comic events of the last fifteen years. But whether he knew it or not, something inside him said, “Let’s do exactly the thing everyone saw, only again, and worse in every way. Again.”

Oh, this must have saved him a few minutes. The page after the helicopter crash is just a The Shield pin-up.

Since it’s just a quick sketch of The Shield standing near the color orange, Rob has to explain in the text box that he is searching through the wreckage of his tenth(?) recent murder “for survivors.” If you’re wondering if it’s normal for a comic to do this -describe all the action because it’s faster than drawing it- no, it’s not.

Another hallmark of Rob Liefeld’s art is frantic nonsense instead of anatomy or design. It’s why the plain concrete walls of The Shield’s building have random cracks and bricks(?) every few feet, or why his indestructible costume suddenly has a bunch of super cool battle damage. Wait, oh yeah, fuck, indestructible costume. Well, no worries, they can add a text box explaining it has, I don’t know, “limits” and “self-repairing nanites” now. What I’m getting at is that Rob Liefeld will rewrite an entire character and his origin story if it gets him out of forty seconds of work.

The comic ends with all the superheroes voting to kill The Shield including this lady version of a Captain America guy. Like many Rob Liefeld drawings, it’s hard to tell if Dusty Simmons, “former boy detective current Crusaders liaison,” is three feet tall or if Rob’s brain made some kind of mistake during its understanding of perspective. It probably doesn’t help that they are standing on nothing in a dimension made only of primordial America.

There’s one more thing to talk about. Obviously, I’d never claim a comic was Maximum Liefeldian without another important aspect of Rob Liefeld’s work: petty, stupid behind-the-scenes drama that leads to him leaving the project.

Apparently, Rob was furious when an alternate cover by Tone Rodriguez was “leaked.” It revealed the surprise that would have shocked The Shield’s longtime fans*! A version of The Shield from the future, a big gun-carrying one, was going to come back to the current The Shield’s time! That’s right, the guy known for creating Cable and also the same things over and over, created Cable again!

* ha ha

What’s great is that an image of Old Gun The Shield was already being circulated in promotions for the comic for months. And the first page of this issue I’m talking about, the very first page, has a picture of him, battle-damaged indestructible suit and all:

It’s not a sudden twist at the end! Even assuming you had any expectations for whatever the fuck a The Shield story might be, knowing an old time-traveling version of him was going to show up only spoils the brief moment between picking up the comic and opening it. And Rob Liefeld quit over it! That’s like walking off the set of Transmorphers 2 because the first one’s DVD box told everyone it was 86 minutes long. There is nothing more Rob Liefeld than abandoning a knockoff Captain America comic after drawing eight lazy splash pages, one foot, and even fewer backgrounds. Even trying to imagine something more Liefeldian would risk shattering our reality and L-Liefeld Liefeld Rob Liefeld Liefeld. Liefeld. Rob Liefeld.


This article is brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, TheLaziestManOnMars: Who comes complete with katana, shoulderpads, beltpouches, and couch rectangle. Feet not included.

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NERDING DAY

Nerding Day: The Gifted RAP

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Nerding Day: The Rainbow Strikes!

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Nerding Day: Lessons I Learned From Fallout

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NERDING DAY

Seanbaby Nerding: Pokemon and Harry Potter – A Fatal Attraction 🌭

It was the year 2000 and a secret, supernatural war was being waged against the youth of America. A single brave evangelist was all that stood in the way of your children and a thing called “Pokemon,” a boy named “Harry Potter,” and a best friend named “Screampopper the Counting Anal Beads.” He was only able to defeat one of them, but Phil Arms left behind a handbook for anyone else to give it a shot against the other two.

You might have seen a book like this before. Sometimes Christians are so Christian they think toys and fiction have to follow the same rules as the Bible or it makes them wrong, which makes them evil, which makes them an elaborate scheme of the Devil, which makes them your responsibility to defeat. Phil Arms is an apex Devil hunter. He can generate four pages of panic from a single keyword on a Pokemon card. He generated eight gallons of fear diarrhea before Harry Potter even left for wizard school. No one is more sure we are all going to die and less certain Pokemon are fictional than Phil Arms.

The introduction lays out Phil Arms’ mission: some non-Christian things don’t follow strict Christian rules and you need to know several incorrect details of how this makes them dangerous. It’s too stupid to try to explain. It’s like he wrote a manual for owners of a Charbroil Performance 475 Four Burner Grill to help them identify which pancakes aren’t their Chocolate Parformance 476 Five Burner Girl.

My copy of Pokemon & Harry Potter: A Fatal Attraction is used, and the previous owner was gung ho about joining God’s army against the forces of evil. They highlighted several sentences in the introduction about the scourge of New Age symbolism in kid’s shows. Then, like all people who don’t care if their children go to Heaven, they gave up after two pages. Even the kind of person who brings a highlighter to a book about the hidden Satanism of Pokemon couldn’t bring themselves to read this stupid shit.

To give you a sense of Phil’s urgency in this battle for the very souls of our children, the first four pages are about how he’s not much of a morning person. Boy does he need his coffee! His wife, on the other hand, she’s a real morning person. Not him, though. Don’t even talk to him until he’s had his second cup of joe! Anyway, demons are clawing at your sons and daughters from Pokemon cards and it’s far too late for most of them. Also, did you know “Pokemon” is short for “Pocket Monsters?” Fucking monsters! Monsters. Maybe you’re not hearing me. These cartoons are not human, or even puppies. “Satan tricked me,” said anyone who thought Pokemon were puppies. You’re still not getting it. Here, let Phil explain some more:

Sometimes I look through a book like this hoping to find some kind of hilarious irony or embarrassing lack of self-awareness, and I’m sorry to tell you I couldn’t. This is just some guy who God put in charge of fighting against the demonic witch powers of Pokemon complaining about all the dumb assholes who can’t tell real from make-believe.

Anyway, after Phil explains to his son how Pokemon are actually monsters, and monsters are actually real, the boy gets to work throwing all his toys and books away.

After all the unlikely stories of monster powers, it’s nice to read about something that really happened, like Phil’s son putting all his belongings into a trash bag, then pulling each of them out to explain how they violate God’s truth, then putting them back in, and then dragging the bag to the dump.

What I love most about this made up story is that in order to tell it, Phil Arms, a man who has literally been going on TV to complain about the evils of dancing since the ’80s, has to admit he pays so little attention to his own boy that he collected an entire garbage bag full of secular videos and occult books. It’s like inventing a story about how you won a roller skating race because your dick is too small to have weight.

Besides Harry Potter and Pokemon, Phil also covers some other occult threats like Magic: The Gathering, which through rigorous study, he has made himself an expert in.

Most of Phil’s understanding of Magic:The Gathering and Pokemon comes from taking gameplay terms, mistaking them for one of the mystic folklores feared by his religion, and letting his imagination do the rest. So he thinks kids summon Magic cards by holding up a wand and calling upon the playground’s dead to inhabit their body. Also? He thinks you have to sacrifice a white creature to power Soul Exchange when in fact you can sacrifice any creature. Ha ha, can you imagine how underpowered that card would be if it cost two black mana but your target creature had to be white!? Ha ha ha ridiculous. I mean, does God not fact check?

Speaking of facts, let’s look into the facts about Pokemon:

Phil received a letter from a Houston mother whose son enjoys Pokemon. She explained, “Something is going on.” This woman saw her kid watch cartoons and simply couldn’t describe it. And more shocking, this woman saw Phil Arms on TV and didn’t know he was fucking stupid. This woman has poorer judgement than a man entering a roller skating race with a 60 pound penis. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told that man: “Congratulations on getting first place, me.”

Look, we’re all having fun, but this is serious. Phil works hard to help idiots protect their children from threats that don’t exist by figuring out which fictional creatures are Buddhists.

Phil is at his best when he thinks he’s cracked the code of the secretly non-Christian cartoon characters. These pocket monsters almost got away with their secular behavior except they use the term “master,” a term Phil’s keen eye noticed and cross-referenced with the goals of Buddhism. “H-how did you know?” pleaded the Pokemon, its deceit laid bare. “Because no Christian Jigglypuff would let his wife transgress upon him without stoning her until death,” said Phil, pulling the trigger on another of Buddha’s secret agents.

“This is what happens when you forget your training,” says Buddha from the media room of his spy training center. “And fellow Pokemon, there’s no reincarnation if you’re shot with a Christian gun. Now let’s pair up and work on our HOA complaints and gay wedding disapprovals.”

You barely have to look at these creatures to know they have sweet powers and aren’t Christian ministers. And pocket monsters, don’t even pretend you’re fulfilling the divine mission of a holy God. How are you supposed to tell people about Jesus Christ if your half squirrel/half turtle mouth is blasting a Machamp’s rippling chest with water? Oh, are you just now realizing Squirtle isn’t an ordained minister? Fucking wake up!

It’s unfortunate, but in order to protect us from secular culture, Phil has had to make himself an expert on it, even the lyrics to the Pokemon theme song, famously of the “rap” genre. Keep in mind he was this ignorant in an era where every pizza chain, breakfast cereal, and local library advertised only in rap. I’m choosing my words carefully here to represent Phil Arms with maximum precision: to miss this wildly with a “rap song” identification is exactly -in every way- like calling the police on a tanning salon for creating black people. It’s wrong in a way too stupid for anyone to be sure it’s racist.

I’m sure you get Phil Arms by now. He’s Pussy Hitler in a world war against toys. But maybe there’s a part of you curious about what would really happen if Pokemon values became widespread. Let’s look!

Wait, holy shit, he’s upset about Pokemon’s dark path of mutual understanding and empathy!? I-is Phil sure he’s supposed to spell out his evil fascism this clearly? It’s like he stopped his book about the dangers of saying “evolution” out loud to level with the reader, “Look, Christian brother, we are unequivocally the bad guys. We will piss on the graves of the kind and tear the love from the teeth of their orphans. In Jesus’ name, White Power.”

Phil doesn’t limit his research to which Pokemon care about others. He also thumbed through the Dungeons and Dragons Players Handbook for sex words and found one. He also found a news article about a cop’s son who read the same book and killed himself only two years later. No further proof was needed, and so none was given. I think we can safely move on from this related, but far less dangerous sexual perversion and discuss the sinister teachings of Harry Potter.

Phil mentions eight times in his book how children (and some adults) don’t know the difference between real and fiction. Yet in the 147 pages he typed about the evil powers of witchcraft and Buddha, he never once admits they are make-believe. He genuinely thinks wizards exist and they are our enemy. So his take on Harry Potter is understandably, “JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE SATAN IS TRAINING SORCERERS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!?”

Phil suffers from a common nutcase symptom of thinking everyone is into everything as much as he is into the Bible. He can’t picture a child simply enjoying a book, ranting about how they can’t “serve two masters!” He can’t understand how you can be in a religion and then also read a non-Bible, and this line of thinking means he spends dozens of pages accidentally establishing Harry Potter as something as powerful as the God he worships. It’s the kind of crazy most of us are used to, so it probably seems normal to you, but if this was the first you’re hearing about Him, you’d be wondering how this God asshole manages to lose a fight to every random storybook or toy-branded fruit snack.

Let’s get back to Pokemon concerns.

The great thing about being religious is you make a final decision and then figure out why you made it later. It’s like a puzzle game you can’t lose, and all it costs you is your dignity, which means nothing when you can decide you’re dignified using the same process I recently described. The point is, if you’re a Christian and want to prove Pokemon is a threat you can cite a Fox News report of an anti-crystal cleric from North Carolina who said it’s sort of the same thing as the kind of stuff the Columbine shooters dabbled in. I honestly think a researcher would punch you in your stupid goddamn face if you said this string of words in front of them, but to Phil Arms, this babbling nothingness is better than proof– it’s something you dedicate years of your life to.

In video games, which are a type of “computer,” players are often encouraged to use “items” which are similar to what you and I know as “things.” Based on shaky logic alone, these items are similar to ones used by occultists to protect themselves against the supernatural, and I feel very confident saying this knowledge will be of no use to anyone even if they stumbled through a portal into a world where it’s real. Phil is upset because items in video games protect from evil, and I’m paraphrasing here, “but I mean come on.”

Now that we know the basics, let’s find out how specific Pokemon are killing God.

Phil continues his deep research by going through a video game manual looking for words liberals and scientists use in other contexts and begging you to get upset. He cites the words “confuse” and “shock into submission” as two of the Pokemon crimes, and accuses Nidoran of anti-Christ behavior for having two genders, which he definitely mistook for some kind of trans thing. For the record, Phil Arms is so transphobic he heard a little bunny creature might be a boy or a girl and he declared, “In Jesus Christ’s name, not on my watch.”

Let’s stop playing around for a second. If there’s some kind of war being waged for our souls and you’re over here complaining about Psyduck “resorting to the use of the paranormal to accomplish his will,” fuck you. It’s over, and you lost. Satan is five million steps ahead of you. You’re so goddamn slow there’s no field of education to help you catch up with the rest of us. You’re dumb beyond a normal person’s ability to conceive of dumb. And what I mean by that is that it wouldn’t occur to the most patient special needs educator on the planet to ever say, “I’m not sure why you’re not getting i– wait, hold on. Phil, you know Psyduck isn’t real, right?”

Ken Sugimori: “Hypno is a Pokémon who uses hypnosis to put his enemies to sleep.”

Phil Arms: “Oh, like Indians!? Robbing their dreams!?”

Ken Sugimori: “How did you get in here? Why are you so upset?”

Phil Arms: “This is how the savages healed the sick! How they helped people!”

Ken Sugimori: “America must be a wonderful place to become so furious over such a small and objectively nice thing.”

Phil Arms: “It fucking sucks! Your evil Godless monsters made our sons gay and kind!”

This one is majestic. Phil Arms filled half a page on Zobat, which isn’t how you spell Zubat, and the way it steals its opponent’s energy. Phil seems to think it’s because it uses psychic powers on its enemy’s chakras, but to be clear, Zubat is a bat. It is stealing energy from its enemies because it’s drinking their blood. Like a bat. This ordinary thing bats are known to do has nothing to do with Eastern religions, and after hundreds of pages of this shit I’m still amazed this goddamn agent of Christ saw a vampire bat sucking monster blood and he’s only mad because it’s maybe Hindu. Seriously, if you’re making jokes, what analogy do you build from that? It’s like getting mad at the man stabbing your wife because he seems like the kind of guy who’d have a tattoo that insults Frasier. I have no idea. Phil Arms is crazy in directions my fingers can’t point to.

We should try to wrap this up. Let’s talk about the five fundamental truths.

Phil teaches parents five truths, and they’re all based on utter insanity. The first one is how you need to beat your kids when they look upon secular toys. The second is how you need to stand up against evil, but the only example he gives is his son telling his classmates their books are evil and then getting mocked by his entire school. The third truth is self-explanatory. “Teach your child that Satan controls this world’s systems.” The fourth is the first one again, and the fifth truth is to explain to your child how everyone is going to hate their annoying ass. I swear on the sick-healing third eye of Hypno I’m not misrepresenting any of these. If you told me I had to sum up this summary of his philosophy in ten words, I’d say, “No problem. Satan is everywhere, so beat your confused kids.”

You need to educate yourself and stay alert! For instance, did you know the Pokemon creators released another occult game called Digimon, which is both not an occult game or from the makers of Pokémon? That’s how treacherous these Satanists can be. And keep an eye out for “telemedicine.” Doctors who use the phone are probably hiding goat legs.

I’m going to leave you now with one of my favorite parts of the book: Responding to Critics.

Phil got a letter from a cranky kid who told him to get a life and then defended Dungeons and Dragons with the kind of even-handed pedantry you’d expect from an indoor teen looking down the barrel of three decades of virginity. And Phil’s response was glorious.

He wrote a two page response to this child and printed it here where everyone could look at it. It’s the most emotionally raw self-own an angry hate mail could ever hope for. Phil splits hairs over every single one of this kid’s points. He says word-for-word, “And Angry, I do have a life.” And Phil regrets to inform you that, um, he is “not ‘worried’ as you called it, over Pokemon.” So at the end of Phil’s very stupid book about making the children of helplessly stupid fundamentalists worse people, some nerdy kid told him to fuck himself and he did. It’s the perfect ending, unlike this one where I just say Pikachu tits.

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NERDING DAY

Nerding Day: Lexx 🌭

You know how sometimes your friend tells you there’s a Sci-Fi TV show about deep space travel where the ship is alive, and you’re like, “Oh neat, what’s it called?”

And then they say, “And the ship has a toilet mouth and eats the passenger’s poop.”

So you’re like, “Stop selling, man. I’ve already downloaded season 3. I’ve already replaced my vision board with Lexx.”

A lot was working against Canadian/German sci-fi show Lexx right from the beginning. I don’t just mean that the script sucked, and the budget was whatever loose change creator Lex Gigeroff had in the sticky cup holder of his Toyota Celica. Yes, the show and spaceship are called The Lexx, and the creator’s name is Lex. Coming up with names for things is a weakness of the series. For example, there’s a planet called Potatohoe. 

When Lexx first aired in the US, the Sci-Fi channel only purchased its second season and then started airing the show with season 2, episode 11. They recut footage from the first season, which consists of four movies, into a quick forty-five minute explainer of what was going on and then kicked American audiences into the most chaotically horny episode of Lexx‘s season two, “Nook.” 

“Nook” is about a planet full of men who live like monks and have never even seen a woman. So when Lexx‘s resident horny lady lands on the same day of their one-night-only hump purge, hijinks ensue, the planet ends up exploding; it’s very standard stuff for Lexx.

Apparently, in the early planning stages of the show, the creators decided they were sick of seeing noble space missions. They made a show about shitty people traveling through space with a mission of not dying and occasionally getting laid. It’s basically It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia on the most powerful planet-eating, dick shaped spaceship in the galaxy. 

The characters on The Lexx are Fran Drescher’s brother, Kai. An undead warrior fueled by a substance called protoblood. I’m pretty sure the protoblood is just Mountain Dew pumped through a bunch of clear tubing, and since I too went through a goth fueled by Mountain Dew phase, Kai is my favorite character. 

Getting Kai’s special Mountain Dew is a big driving source for episode plots. Kai runs out of Mountain Dew and has to go to sleep until they find him more Mountain Dew to wake him up. Someone wants to steal Kai’s Mountain Dew. Kai has gone crazy but thankfully doesn’t have enough Mountain Dew to sustain his rampage, etc.

There’s also Stanley, a traitor, security guard, and guy whose main character trait is that he’s sad and horny. While escaped love slave Xev and later her clone, Zev, is just horny. Yep, that’s her entire personality. 

If I were to write a summary of any single episode of the show, it would be impossible. The only way I can explain it is… well, you have to get into Lexx-think mode to truly understand Lexx, and to get into Lexx-think mode, you have to watch ten episodes in a row of Lexx, which, believe me, you do not want to do. It’s kind of like looking at a magic eye poster– you have to let your vision get soft, and your brain get fuzzy, and all of a sudden, the plot appears to make sense! 

For instance, season three of the show takes place after the entire cast has been in cryostasis for 4,000 years. Many of the characters the crew has met previously who died appear as reincarnated versions of themselves. I saw this and said, “Ah, yes, because the time prophet explained in the first episode that time is a flat circle, and the Lexx has circled all the way around, so it makes sense that Giggerota the cannibal woman is now the first female pope on present-day Earth.”

The weirdest thing about Lexx is that it’s somehow boring. I know, it seems crazy a show with alien robot carrots that fly up people’s asses and control their brain through their spinal cord could be boring, but it somehow is. Lexx‘s budget shrank every season, so while season one had guest stars like Tim Curry, Malcolm Mcdowell, and Barry Bostwick, decent CGI for the time, and plenty of sets, season 4 takes place entirely on Earth due to budget constraints. 

You can feel the budget tighten every episode. Lots of planets have no sky at all, just a blank blue void because they ran out of money by the time they got up there. The sets and scenes are so limited in season 4 it starts to feel like a play, but without the strong writing you need to make four people yelling at each other in an empty room with a tarp-covered kiddy pool representing a space bed seem interesting. 

Sure, sometimes they did amazing things with their limited budget. I love whatever this is. Put this on every sci-fi show. I would kill to see Sir Patrick Stewart do this shit:

Most of the time it wasn’t human head chess, though. It was more like, “My mom said we could film in her friend’s diner for thirty minuets at 2 AM so it’s the space devil’s office now!”

The funniest part of learning about Lexx is hearing random interspersed plot points and quotes from the show completely out of context. “I want every word of the Lexx Wikipedia article printed out on a wall decal and put up in my office,” I told my husband at one point while working on this article. So, I made a few test mock-ups, and they came out really well! 

It was an unfortunate fate for the gay balloonists. I know what you’re thinking: “They couldn’t save one gay balloonist?” Sadly, no, The Lexx ate them all. 

Having Live, Love, Laugh stuck on your wall is cute, but I prefer something a little more topical to help me remember to live life to the fullest. 

You could put up a quote from Walt Disney about imagination or dreaming, etc. Or, you could have a quote from a brainwashed robot with some human organs that says:

Some might say season four of Lexx got pretty crazy, and what better way to commemorate that than with an inspirational poster devoted to the episode where Dracula first appears!

Or, if you just want to commemorate how much Dracula factors into the plot in mid-season four, you could always go with this country-style look. 

It’s really so much Dracula for a sci-fi show. I mean, I love a space Dracula as much as anyone, but it’s like four episodes about Dracula going after Kai’s Mountain Dew. Don’t worry, of course; Kai keeps his Mountain Dew, and things go pretty well for him for the rest of the season. 

Lexx‘s greatest accomplishment is that it’s the only show on Earth with fanfic somehow less horny and more plot-driven than the actual show. If it had gotten another season, the budget would have called for the whole thing to be set in a single inflatable bounce house. The plot would have been that the bounce house was full of Kai’s protoblood, and if they ever stopped bouncing Kai would die, and if they did that, I would absolutely watch it. Fine, I guess I’m kickstarting Lexx Season 5. 

Lydia will share more random Lexx plot points on Twitter. 


This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme, Benjamin Sairanen, who is a robot that does NOT want to live in your underpants but in THIS housing market? Wokka wokka!