Thor is a twit.
He’s boastful, arrogant, temperamental, and downright stupid. His half-brother, Loki, got the advantage on him more times than not, and Thor’s ususal response was to hit him with a hammer or come crying back (well, ok, screaming and yelling – that’s more manly, after all) to the Allfather, Odin. I can’t blame Loki for playing games with the Asgardian; he kept falling for them. He was quite possibly the easiest Mark in Norse myth, and for the trickster Loki, a source of endless entertainment.
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In the comic book universe, it’s no secret that I fall on the side of DC Comics, the home of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman. You know, the holy trinity of four-colour, sequential periodicals – the world’s most recognized pop-culture heroes – the Justice League.
As evidenced by the many debates with comic book loving pals (many of whom write for and/or read this very site) about the pros and cons of the DC and Marvel universes, that means I’m not a big Avengers fan. You can’t love the Leafs and the Habs, City and United, Yankees and Mets. You have to choose. At ten years of age, I chose DC.
And on the eve of one of this summer’s most highly anticipated movies, I’m still not a fan. Not really. How could I be?