Month: August 2019

Back to The Main Story

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Hey there Web-Heads,

If you’re a Spider-Man fan, your friends are probably bombarding you with news that Spider-Man will no longer be under the Marvel Cinematic Universe to see how you’re reacting.

A lot of people think that this is bad. Mostly, this feeling comes from the assumption that we will have to see Spider-Man try to make it on his own again after failing so many times *cough* Andrew Garfield *cough* Far From Home *cough cough*, and we will now have to see him get by with less money. Which is a bad thing?

Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t that what Spider-Man is all about? How many times have we seen him just scrape by on rent or go on a roommate hunt because he just got evicted? Believe it or not, that stuff wasn’t just made up for the video games. Also, how many times has he had to pick himself up after he’s been beaten down?

How often did he have to figure everything out for himself and not have amazing suits and super OP’d pairs of glasses handed to him?

Sorry for so many questions, reader. They’re all rhetorical, if you want them to be, but I do want you to think about all the good that can come from this separation. Think about all the smaller, more personal stories we can get into. Think about the character development we night actually get to see on screen. Personally, I am very excited for this news. I cannot wait to see a Spider-Man movie that won’t be driven by the movies that might come after, or what movies that movie is leading up to.

If Into The Spider-Verse has taught us anything, it’s that we’re ready for an older Spider-Man. We want to see him as an expert at being the Marvel Knight, the “no crime too small” hero.

I know a lot of people are really upset about the news that Spider-Man is now purely Sony’s property, but honestly, let’s imagine all the possibilities this can open up for us. We had a Marvel Team-Up, the big Crossover-Event is over now, and we can finally get back to the main story line.

Coffee House, An Exercise in Atmosphere

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The coffee house buzzed with both the chatter of its customers and the florescent lights overhead. A timer went off and a barista who wore a stained black apron slid a browned pastry from a filthy oven behind a pristine countertop. In the corner, a businessman clung onto his grey comb-over while trying to cough up the last fifty cigarettes. His glasses fell off the table and he bent for them, but this only intensified his coughing fit. A young couple at the next table over watched the man’s chubby fingers futilely grope for the glasses. If natural light had found its way into this place, it had to do so filtered through heavy green drapes and tinted windows.

In the line a tall man dressed in a white-and-spearmint-stripped polo rested his hands protectively on the shoulders of two children. They stood in the group, a mass of thirsty people waiting for their name to be called. The barista had to shout out a name a second time to be heard.

A woman stood at the counter with a humungous backpack strapped to her back. In her polished claw of a hand she held a cup of black tea with no ice. She blocked a young man from retrieving his order from the barista and caused general confusion with her bag’s obtrusive nature. Her blond hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks and her backpack hung on, almost bursting at the seams. When she left, a slight limp in her step, she had a pleased look on her face as the ice floated up to gently bob against her upper lip, where it collected sweat and cooled her tea.

The man who stood over the two children sighed when the barista conversationally asked if the beverage he’d been waiting for was for one of the children he guarded. Then he sighed again when he admitted that he didn’t agree with the kid drinking coffee, but their mother allowed it. And when the boy grabbed the large brown, blended drink from the barista, the man eyed the whipped cream that overflowed the bubble lid and sighed again.