X-Men 128: The Action of a Tiger – A tiger that at no point whatsoever appears in this issue

WHAT WE LEARNED THIS ISSUE:

CHRIS CLAREMONT AND JOHN BYRNE HAVE DEFINITELY EXPERIMENTED WITH DRUGS

PROTEUS LIKES TO TURN GLASS INTO BEES AND HIS MOM INTO AN MUTANT ELEPHANT-BAT

CYCLOPS AND HAVOC, BECAUSE THEY ARE BROTHERS, ARE IMMUNE TO EACH OTHER’S POWERS, FARTS

MOIRA MACTAGGERT, THE SLUT, JUST SAW HER HUSBAND AND ONLY SON DIE IN THE SAME DAY BUT IS STILL IN THE MOOD TO HAVE A FIERCE MAKE OUT SESS WITH BANSHEE

Way too fuggin long of a recap: Proteus is holding Moira hostage and turning the city of Edinburgh inside out, literally, with his reality distorting mutant power. The X-Men, because they are mental midgets with the moral and ethical depth of a shot glass, still don’t want to kill Proteus, because taking a life in any circumstance is wrong. Due to their being such yawning vaginas, Proteus killed a bunch of innocent people. However at the end of the issue, the only way the X-Men could figure out how to stop Proteus was by killing him anyway. What a bunch of prolapsed assholes.

This is typical comic book ethics. A super villain will, for some reason, set up a choice for a super hero. To save these ten people, you will have to kill this one person (or let them die, whatever). The motive for the super villain is usually to show the doo-gooding superhero that they’re no better than then the super villain, in that they are choosing to take someone’s life. To resolve this dilemma, the super hero usually rejects the entire choice stating “there… must… be… another… way!” and manages to save all everyone involved.

Of course this is bullshit, and as people in the military know (and I would know, I’ve watched every episode of Battlestar Galactica), you often are forced to choose between the lesser of two evils. It’s called life, bitches, so just suck it up, X-Bags. Storm is the worst about this, by the way (an yes I know I’m talking about a fictional character, so what). She would actually stop the hypothetical sniper from 1938 from blowing Hitler’s head smooth off. That self-righteous cunt.

Haha… right… anyway, Colossus uses his metal fists to punchersize Proteus into nothingness (oh no… my only weakness… fists!) and he dies. Here’s how Claremont describes that cataclysmic event: “Colossus smashes his organic steel fists into the heart of Proteus’ energy form. And that’s only the beginning of his ordeal, as Colossus’ dense molecular structure totally disrupts the delicately balanced energy matrices that makes up the rogue mutant. In a sense, he short-circuits Proteus, scattering every fabric of the villain’s being—every scrap of consciousness—to the four corners of the Earth.”

Such sweet poetry. A salve to sooth the spastic soul. Words as nectar for nerds like Mountain Dew and Cheeto dust. So long, Proteus, don’t let the pyrotechnics hit your rapidly disintegrating ass on your way toward oblivion.

Dubious ethical soup aside, a very solid four issue arc for Claremont and Byrne. After wrapping up two issue battle with Arcade as the Monster-of-the-Week, we finally see what all this Mutant X foreshadowing nonsense was all about. And it was pretty decent. Moira’s character is fleshed out, Wolvie, Cyclops and Jean Grey continue their angst-triangle, and we got some really trippy fight signs. Sure, we’re still seeing text boxes with stage directions and superfluous expository prose, but its comics in the late 70s, early 80’s, that’s what you get.

Next, we find out with this fucking dandy off a fop, Jason Wyngarde, is all about, at the start off the motherfucking Dark Phoenix Saga. Yeah! It’s going to be tits!