Every year I de-hype myself for Comic-Con. Unless you want to go stand in line for 8 hours, surrounded by what isn’t exactly the most hygienic demographic in the world, all you are going to see is some crappy Iphone video of things you already knew were happening. So every year I tell myself I don’t care about Comic-Con, and every year they put out something that makes me squeal like a six year old girl. No, it wasn’t the grainy cell phone video of Superman about to burn the shit out of Batman’s chin, nor was it Josh Brolin holding up one of those Hulk smash gloves, not even the pictures of anorexic Wonder Woman. Oh no, the thing that stole my heart was a man named Max. It has been almost thirty years since the road warrior went beyond thunderhome, and I don’t care what Tina Turner thinks. We need another hero.
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