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Quarantine Blog, Day Thirty-Eight

I’ve been watching the show Umbrella Academy, on Netflix.

A show based on a comic book series from Dark Horse, originally written by Gerard Way and illustrated by Gabriel Bá. On Netflix, Ellen Page, among others, play adopted children to a mad scientist/eccentric billionaire named  Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

He raises them as students in the, you guessed it, Umbrella Academy.

They become a badass, crime-fighting, child-superhero team.

Between teleportation and time-travel, super-strength, tentacles appearing from the body, mind-control, talking to the dead, and a power of….knives? The kids have it all. And of course there’s the one that doesn’t have any powers and plays assistant to the aforementioned billionaire. Like every great super-hero child team.

It’s obvious to anyone that knows me that the storyline of the show that I find most interesting is the one that follows the tentacles and the talking to the dead. Though the one of the time-raveling teleporter ain’t half bad either.

But really, I couldn’t be bothered by the Ellen Page character or the strong boy. The mind-controller bores me, too. But little knife boy gives me a little bit of joy.

I’ve always been a fan of cool knife throwing. Even if I know it’s fake; absurdly fake at that.

The whole show reminds me of a time when all I really cared about was seeing super-heroes in the movie theatre, and my weekly runs to the comic book store to catch up on everything that I was reading.

There was an old Hawkeye series that kept my attention for a time.

It was called “My Life As A Weapon.” (I’ve added a link to a review, if you care to know what I’m going on about.)

I’m not sure what kept me excited about it. The art style had me going, certainly.

Maybe it was because it started being released directly after The Avengers hit theaters back in 2012, and I’d already gotten excited for what part he’d play because of the first Thor movie.

It wasn’t the origin story of a hero.

Instead it was just the story of some guy with an apartment in Brooklyn, and no superpowers.

You know, now that I think about it, maybe that was where my affinity for wanting to live in Brooklyn all started.

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I think that’s a good place to leave it.

It’s getting late, after-all.

I’ll write to you again tomorrow.

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Micah Mabey

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