This week’s assignment from the league:
Who would you take in an 80′s character fantasy draft? Your team’s goal will be to defeat a shady conglomerate of Russian businessmen and their team of hired ninjas. It’s go time.
I have to admit, I was a little conflicted about this week’s topic. As you all know, I hate Russian terrorists, but happen to love ninjas. How could I combat one while simultaneously ignoring my love for the other? And then I remembered – ninjas are completely amoral, and since these guys are basically mercenaries, I’m sure they could forgive my 80’s hit squad for demolishing them. But who would be on this anti-Russian dream team? Which heroes are G.I. Joe enough to carry out this mission?
This week’s assignment from The League – Create the ultimate Saturday morning cartoon lineup. This is definitely up my alley. As a kid, I lived for Saturday morning cartoons. I mean, sure, there were lots of cartoons on school day mornings, and the after-school cartoons were fantastic, but there was something about Saturday mornings that just beat everything. Maybe it was the fact that the best of the best cartoons were on (hello, X-Men!) or maybe it was because every major network had their own cartoon line-up, so there was always something on, or maybe it was simply that, to a 10-year-old hopped up on Pop-Tarts and Fruity Pebbles, even The Super Pros could be entertaining. Regardless, this week’s assignment proved a little more challenging than I expected it to. Of all the awesome, life-changing, cancer-curing (allegedly) cartoons from the days before Cartoon Network and DVR boxes came along and ruined things, which cartoons were the greatest? Which would make the cut?
This week, the League of Extraordinary Bloggers has a different sort of mission. Our assignment: Who cried when Old Yeller got shot? What movie, TV show, book, etc. turns you into a blubbering baby every time you see it?
I’ll admit; this was a tough assignment. You see, I’m a very manly sort of man, the kind of man who can’t be easily reduced to tears. I spend my time doing manly things. Manly men things like wrangling giant tusked spider bears, getting into manly street fights with my friends Billy and Jimmy, and giving birth to babies.
But as manly manful as I am, my eyes still have tear ducts, atrophied as they may be. Begrudgingly, I will admit there may have been times my eyes have manlily (mannishly?) wet themselves during moments of pop culture distress. Grab some tissues and take my hand. We’re about to revisit some tear-jerking moments from days gone by.