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War of the Chalk GolemsWar of the Chalk Golems
Nicolas rode his bike to the playground behind the school and saw Edward making the preparations, though for what he had no idea. He locked his bike onto the school's bike rack and made his way over to Edward.
"Look, let's just forget about this. It's a Saturday. We can go to the mall for a bit if you want, though not for long. I've got to cut my grass." Nicolas was lying, but even cutting the grass was fascinating compared to being with Edward.
"No, you really do have to see this," Edward said.
"See what? I was told there was a wager of five bucks, but I don't even know what we're betting on."
Edward smiled and made a sweeping motion with his hand across the schoolyard pavement.
"Take a look."
Nicolas looked across the schoolyard, illustrated with dozens of crudely drawn chalk characters and vessels. There was a large dragon with a body of green and yellow chalk fo
Themes of Chomsky as Seen in Comic BooksRyan McGrail
Themes of Chomsky as Seen in Comic Books
The storylines in the graphic novels "JSA: Black Reign," and "JLA: The Nail" contain many parallels to Chomsky's teachings in "Media Control." In "JSA: Black Reign," The supervillain turned anti-hero Black Adam recruits a team of disillusioned superheroes who realize the number one rule of the superhero community, though shalt not kill, is meant to be broken. Black Adam and his team of superheroes gone rogue invade Adam's native country of Kandaq (an obvious stand-in for Iraq) and murder the Suddein Hussein-like dictator and his army. When the Justice Society of America gets wind of Black Adam's actions, they go on a field trip to Kandaq to take down Adam and their former teammates. "JLA: The Nail" takes read
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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