Okay, the majority of tomorrow's big new books may not be the most jolly holiday of reads, but there's a lot of great stuff to pick up.

Diving straight into Marvel Comics' deluge of product, you can catch up with the mondo depresso Dark Reign storyline with the following collections - Dark Reign: The Hood, Dark Reign: The Sinister Spider-Man, Dark Reign: Skrull Kill Krew, Dark Reign: Young Avengers and the very, very recommended Agents of Atlas: Dark Reign (Seriously, people: Gorilla Man? Marvel Boy? Venus? What about that doesn't sound appealing?).

You can also pick up a couple of single issues from the current Marvel status quo, Fall of The Hulks: Gamma and Captain America: Who Will Wield The Shield which, amusingly, is the follow-up to the Captain America Reborn series that finishes... next month. Hurrah for scheduling!

(Marvel also has a new Halo comic book, Halo: Blood Line, a hardcover version of the recent Marvel Zombies Return series, and a collection of stories from writer Brian Michael Bendis' first decade at the publisher: Brian Michael Bendis: 10 Years At Marvel, coming out. Told you it was a deluge.)

Over at DC, it's a much quieter week, albeit with a new Blackest Night tie-in launching (Blackest Night: JSA). There's a collection of the first half of superhero fantasy The Mighty, and also one of the kids' title Supergirl: Cosmic Adventures In The Eighth Grade that would make a pretty good gift for small kids with big imaginations.

Also suitable as stocking stuffers are Dark Horse's two one-shots of the week, Hellboy: Bride of Hell and the Joss Whedon-written Buffy The Vampire Slayer: Willow.

Keeping in a Whedon mood, IDW offers the Angel Annual (telling the story of the movie version of LA's time in Hell, which promises to be amusing), as well as the weather-appropriate fantasy genre Winterworld hardcover. Finishing up, there's a new Wall-E comic from Boom! Studios - which looks really fun, based on previews - and a new collection of the classic Judge Dredd spin-off, Judge Anderson: Psi-Files, from Rebellion.

If you're looking for something very unfestive to get your year finished right, however, there's one book that's definitely what you're looking for: The Last Days Of American Crime, which mixes crime noir, mind control and heist stories all together for something murky, slightly paranoid and altogether wonderful. Book of the week, easily.

Make sure you get to your local comic store tomorrow having seen this list and checked it twice to find out what's naughty and nice, because this is the last shipping week for new comics this year. Next Wednesday, there are (a few) new releases, but this is the last official week. Go with open wallet and heavy heart. Ho ho ho.

Granted, not all of these foods will actually devour you; some will simply kill you or turn you into their zombie slave. But all are best approached with caution, and should only be handled by chefs with combat training.

Killer Tomatoes (Attack of the Killer Tomatoes): After years of being made into ketchup and mistaken for vegetables, the tomatoes get their revenge, and a killer theme song.

The Stuff (The Stuff): It's not clear what would possess a man to taste a slimy substance he found out in the woods, but it turns out the Stuff is delicious, addictive, and contains no calories. It also turns out that the Stuff is alive, and it chews on your brain until you've transformed into a nice, pliable zombie.

Bubble Shock! (The Sarah Jane Adventures "Invasion of the Bane"): Another zombifying substance is Bubble Shock!, a fizzy organic beverage. But it's actually an alien life form, one that turns drinkers into slaves of Mother Bane. While it doesn't have quite the brain-mushing powers of the Stuff, Bubble Shock! has a viral quality, with Bane zombies offering the beverage to anyone who hasn't tried it.

Popplers (Futurama "The Problem with Popplers"): Another mysterious foodstuff found lying on the ground, popplers are incredibly delicious nuggets of meaty goodness. There are just two problems: first, popplers are intelligent; second, they're the juvenile form of the ornery Omicronians, and Lrrr, the Omicronian ruler, thinks it's only fair that he should get to eat a human to set things right.

The Blue Plate Special (Spaceballs): Poor John Hurt. When he tried to enjoy a meal in Alien, he had a chestburster pop right out of him. Then he sits down for the blue plate special at a diner in Spaceballs and meets with the same fate.

Curry Monster (Red Dwarf "DNA"): In a typically boneheaded move, the crew of the Red Dwarf test a DNA modifier on a container of vindaloo, creating a monster that's half man, half Indian takeaway.

Killer Pizzas (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles "Case of the Killer Pizzas"): The pizza-loving foursome find that sometimes their favorite food can get a case of the munchies. An alien species from Dimension X lays eggs that happen to look like meatballs, and they manage to land on a handful of pizzas. Pop your pizza in the microwave, and those little critters hatch mean and hungry.

TMNT - Case of the killer pizzas

Wolfbullet | MySpace Video

Pizza the Hut (Spaceballs): He's delicious enough that he ate himself to death, but woe unto those who cross this cheesy gangster. They'll learn what it's like to have Pizza send out for you.

Bezoar Eggs (Buffy the Vampire Slayer "Bad Eggs"): When Buffy and the crew are given eggs to babysit as a class assignment, it seems like a minor nuisance. But it turns out those aren't chicken eggs they're faux parenting; they actually hatch bezoars, little parasites that attach to your brain stem (and, like all good parasites, render you their zombie slave). And Xander gets a nasty surprise when he hardboils his egg son and decides to enjoy a mid-afternoon snack.

Evil Gingerbread Men (The Tick, The Gingerdead Man): Be they the product of an eager baker or possessed by the spirit of a serial killer, these confections can be downright deadly. You'd imagine, though, that milk would be a major weakness.

Werewolf (Angel "Unleashed"): Werewolf is considered a delicacy among certain sadistic members of the Los Angeles elite. Unfortunately, werewolves tend to revert to their human form once they're killed, so they have to be served alive while the meat is carved off. But if the werewolf isn't properly restrained, you could end up on the menu.

Wub ("Beyond Lies the Wub" by Philip K. Dick): Again, it's rarely a smart idea to eat a species you happen to find just hanging out on another planet, especially if it's capable of literary discussions. The pig-like wub will let you eat it, but there's a hefty price; the wub will completely take over your body, essentially booting out your soul through your stomach.

Martian Water (Doctor Who "The Waters of Mars"): Actually, you don't even need to drink water containing the Flood to contract its zombifying contagion — just touching it will do the trick. Still, drinking the water is ill-advised.

Kandy Man (Doctor Who "The Happiness Patrol"): The good news is that this licorice-based robot won't actually devour you. The bad news is that, if you aren't visibly happy at all times, it will kill you — likely by drowning you in super sugary fondant.

Stay Puft Marshmallow Man (Ghostbusters): Sure, Stay Puft nearly demolished the entire island of Manhattan in the service of Gozer. But that toasted marshmallow glop that dropped on the Ghostbusters at the end of the move looked mighty tasty.

Ebola Cola (Transmetropolitan): As the slogan goes, "You Drink It, It Eats You."

Aqua Teen Hunger Force (Aqua Teen Hunger Force): A mutated meatball, milkshake, and carton of french fries, the Aqua Teens get into all sorts of mayhem, which often gets various creatures (and occasionally Maser Shake) killed. I probably wouldn't put eating the remains past them either, given the right situation.

Triffids (Day of the Triffids): Triffids have a lot going for them. They're a great source of vegetable oil (making them valuable crops), and they can fight off any potential predators with their venomous whips. Plus, they love to feed on rotting meat, which is easy to obtain once most of humanity has been struck blind.

Tom Turkey (The Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror XIX"): Since it's Thanksgiving week, this musket-wielding bird will cap off our list. After rescuing the children of Springfield from the murderous Grand Pumpkin, Tom Turkey gets invited to Thanksgiving dinner. But once he learns what people eat on Thanksgiving, he starts gobble-gobbling up the children himself.

The reason why I say that so emphatically is, there's a tendency to avoid watching a television show if you think it's already pre-cancelled. Why give your heart to a piece of ephemeral pop culture that won't even last the five-to-seven years that a successful show lasts? Why become fixated on a story you know won't end? Part of the answer is that we are science-fiction fans, and having our hearts broken is part of the deal. But you also have to keep the faith alive that it won't happen this time.

So in case you've missed our grindingly depressing coverage (mirroring everyone else's) of V's misfortunes, it's had a troubled ramp-up. First it was put on a production hiatus for a few weeks, then it was announced that showrunner Jeff Bell (who was showrunner on Angel's final season) was being demoted — he's still around as a writer, but he's no longer in charge. Then before the first hiatus was even over, a second hiatus was announced, and the show was on hold for at least a couple of months. And then the network decided to air only four episodes, this month, and then put the show on hold until after the Olympics, in March.

And today, there's the news that Scott Peters, the show's creator who replaced Bell as showrunner, was himself ousted. His replacement, luckily, will be Scott Rosenbaum, who's been a producer on Chuck and The Shield. Judging from the USA Today article, it sounds like the root of all these problems, including the production turnovers and delays, is the network's discontent with the show's creative direction. Here's USA Today's succinct explanation:

[T]he series remake has run into roadblocks. V's pilot episode was well-received by advertisers and critics, but ABC's late-summer decision to start the show two months earlier than planned – in part to dodge American Idol and the broadcast of the Winter Olympics, also in Vancouver – led to script problems, which forced reshoots and a five-week production break.

The first of three planned story arcs was condensed from six to four fall episodes. And the show will test viewers' loyalty with a three-month hiatus; remaining episodes won't surface until March. A promotional campaign that called for planes to skywrite red V's over national landmarks was scuttled after publicity over potential environmental effects.

And Thursday, in a response to the show's production problems, Peters (USA Network's The 4400) was replaced at the helm of the show by Scott Rosenbaum (Chuck, The Shield), though he is expected to stay aboard as an executive producer.

"We had a great pilot, then a couple of great episodes, but we had a disconnect on where we were going from there," says ABC Entertainment Group chief Stephen McPherson. Though no stranger to tinkering (he made extensive changes to the original Grey's Anatomy pilot), "I hadn't had the experience of that before." But McPherson accepts "a little blame for rushing them."

Mitchell, who plays hero FBI agent Erica Evans, says the resulting changes merely speed the pace of storytelling to pack a bigger wallop, including big cliffhangers in the Nov. 24 episode. Filming on that episode is set to wrap today, giving actors another unexpected 10-week break as the show is retooled. (Mitchell will trek to Hawaii to shoot new Lost episodes.)

So, yes. A troubled show, even before its first episode airs — and this does remind me a bit of similar behind-the-scenes stories about Bionic Woman, Dollhouse, Life On Mars, and countless other shows that had difficult gestations leading to troubled runs. But these things aren't fore-ordained, and a show can beat the odds.

Here are some reasons why I'm still cautiously optimistic about V in spite of all of the negative buzz:

1) The pilot really is great. From what I hear, the pilot that airs tonight is much the same one we all watched at Comic Con, and it's truly impressive. I went into the pilot expecting, at best, pleasant mediocrity or a watered-down tribute to the geek TV of our childhoods. And instead, I was surprised by what a cracking great piece of television it is. The story of the aliens who arrive promising great wonders, but quickly turn out to be a lot worse than we realize, is retold at a zippy pace and revamped for our wired, media-savvy culture. And it's provocative to have a show that says that despite all of our proud cynicism and air quotes, we're still suckers for the first super-advanced civilization that shows up offering us small-pox-infested blankets.

2) The cast is terrific. This matters a lot. You know who they never replaced during Bionic Woman's behind-the-scenes dickering? Michelle Ryan. You could have swapped in a dozen different producers, and it wouldn't have made Ryan watchable. In V, Elizabeth Mitchell is proving that her sparks of versatility on Lost weren't just illusions — she's really great as the show's heroine. (And how great is it that we actually have a female lead on a network show, who's not Michelle Ryan?) Given time, Mitchell could be as great as Lena Headey as Sarah Connor. Also, Whedonverse alums Alan Tudyk and Morena Baccarin are also just as great as you'd hope — and Baccarin is so natural as a smarmy alien leader, you'll almost forget Inara.

3) Maybe all the tinkering really will make it a better show in the end. Rosenbaum coming on as show-runner is actually great news — and if he can bring a bit of The Shield to V, then we'll be doing great. Also, I'm not entirely sad to hear they're tightening the pace. When I hear that six episodes were compressed to four, or that a show is going to cut to the chase faster, I often secretly rejoice — the biggest pitfall with a show like V is that the mysteries will be sustained for too long, that characters won't figure stuff out until long after the audience has, and that we won't get to see people fighting aliens until season three. As the SF Chronicle's Tim Goodman points out, this sort of molasses-slow storytelling has already overtaken fellow ABC show FlashForward (which might get renamed "inch forward" soon) — so it would be a shame if it happened to V as well.

4) We sort of owe it to ourselves to support any show about alien invaders. It's not as if we have a bevy of alien-invasion shows to choose from, or really a bevy of shows about aliens period. American television seems to have abdicated the territory it once owned, of first contact, alien attackers, galactic imperialists, and so on. I am prepared to apologize for mocking the boring alien makeup on shows like Star Trek: Voyager, if it means that we'll get aliens on TV once again. But for now, if there's even a hope of getting a show about meeting people unlike ourselves on television again, we need to grasp it with both hands.

5) I'm hoping that the creative stew of influences will still yield something really subversive and interesting. Peters, who created The 4400, is still on board as a producer according to USA Today, and Angel's Bell still seems to be in the mix as well. And the pilot definitely contains a huge dose of the paranoia and concerns about selling out that those earlier works were all about. (There's the journalist who's willing to ask only softball questions of the alien leader, as well as the religious figures who hitch their wagon to the aliens' star.) So maybe if those things remain part of V's DNA, and they aren't part of what gets sacrificed in the network's headlong dash to create soft and mushy enough for the general public to chew and swallow, then we'll still get a show that challenges us and reminds us that science fiction, even on television, can be a thing of amazement.

So yes, it's worth risking another disappointment. V is on ABC tonight at 8.

Note: This is not intended to be an exhaustive list, just a rundown of the eras in horror comedy. Feel free to suggest titles, or whole epochs, that we may have missed out.

The 1920s stage plays

In the 1920s, playwrights decided to spice up their stage plays by adding more horror elements, creating silly haunted-house and monster stories like The Bat, The Cat & The Canary and The Gorilla. Some of these, like Canary, got adapted to silent movies. The 1925 Lon Chaney film The Monster also features a comic-relief character, but isn't really a full-fledged comedy.

Abbott And Costello And Laurel And Hardy And So On

In many ways, the 1930s and 1940s were the heyday of the "clean" horror comedy, which featured monsters without any real gore or violence. Laurel And Hardy did A Live Ghost in 1934, the haunted-house movie The Laurel-Hardy Murder Case in 1930 and A-Haunting We Will Go in 1942. The Three Stooges also dabbled in horror-comedy with short films like 1943's Spooks!. And then going into the 1940s, Abbott and Costello, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, and Bob Hope, among others, brought the genre to new prominence. There's also the hilariously titled Zombies On Broadway. Let's put on a show!

1960s Anarchy

The 1960s saw a slew of trippy novels, movies and TV shows in which horror elements often jostled with comedic ones — several of Peter Sellers' 1960s comedies often veer into horror at odd moments. At the same time, monster sitcoms like The Munsters and The Addams Family ruled television with their zany portrayals of monsters who were just like us — almost. This was also the era that gave the start of the long-running Scooby Doo cartoons, and a slew of cute/funny images of monsters, from the Frankenberry cereal to the Count on Sesame Street.

Self-Aware Campiness

Susan Sontag published her famous essay on "camp" in 1964, but the 1970s really backed up the camp truck to our door, and dumped a load of glitter on our front steps. Horror comedy was no exception, with Vincent Price starring in two mega-campy Dr. Phibes movies, and other over-the-top horror films like Please Don't Eat My Mother and Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes taking over cinemas. Most of all, Rocky Horror Picture Show became a defining movie for a whole ripped-fishnets-sporting generation.

The self-aware horror spoof genre took off way more in the early 1980s, with movies like Creepshow mocking the genre's cliches. And in general, the horror-comedy movie genre really came into its own in the 1980s, diversifying into a bunch of thriving sub-genres.

Ghostbusters, Gremlins and more

1984 saw the release of both Ghostbusters and Gremlins, sparking a new onslaught of cute/scary monsters and ghosts, including four (!) Critters movies. I'd also put 1986's Little Shop Of Horrors and Haunted Honeymoon into this category: wide-eyed protagonists coming face-to-tentacle with weird, slimy or fluffy-but-nasty creatures. According to Box Office Mojo, both Ghostbusters films and the first Gremlins occupy three out of the top four best-selling horror comedy slots of all time.

Troma comedies in the 1980s and beyond

Troma deserves its own category, for its sheer volume of output if for no other reason. Although it's best known for the Toxic Avenger films and Surf Nazis Must Die, there are just so many weird, over-the-top and just plain wrong Troma films out there, you could fill a bookshelf with the DVDs. And really, Troma is just the tip of the iceberg of a slew of direct-to-VHS and direct-to-DVD movies that we've seen in the past 20 years ago, with a ton of cult auteurs pushing the boundary between scary and funny.

1980s Werewolf/Vampire Humor

Teen Wolf (1985), An American Werewolf In London (1981), Fright Night (1985), Mr. Vampire (1985), Once Bitten (1985), Vamp (1986) and Love At First Bite (1979) were just some of the cocaine-fueled laughs at Universal monsters. Here's a photo of Grace Jones at a vampire strip club, from Vamp.

Body Horror/Comedy

The Reanimator films and Brian Yuzna's Society, among others, take the David Cronenberg trope of the human body being transformed into something gooey, icky or disturbingly awful, and they find the silliness and subversive humor that lurks just behind that, with gore, decapitated limbs still moving and lots of oozing goop all providing opportunities for slapstick and discomfort. The 1980s were also the heydey of Frank Hennenlotter's over-the-top violence and bodily destruction, in films like Basket Case. I'd also stick Peter Jackson's Dead/Alive into this category. In many ways, this genre has been the gift that keeps on giving, as evidenced by the awesomeness of 2006's Slither.

The Rise Of Sam Raimi

Classic Sam Raimi films deserve their own category, especially the Evil Dead films and Army Of Darkness. Bruce Campbell in his prime, rocking the chainsaw hand, against the legions of dead. Good times.

Christopher Moore

No discussion of horror-comedy would be complete without mentioning the 1990s and 2000s novels of Christopher Moore, especially his vampire classics Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story, You Suck: A Love Story, and Bite Me: A Love Story, plus his zombie Christmas tale The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale Of Christmas Horror.

Creature Features

Tremors (1990), Arachnophobia (1990), Lake Placid (1999) and Eight-Legged Freaks (2002) were just some of the slew of tongue-in-cheek monster-rampage films that came out in the 1990s and early 2000s. My fave is probably Lake Placid, just for the amazingly deadpan performances by Bill Paxton and Betty White, among others.

Buffy Etc.

Joss Whedon's Buffy empire, including a movie and two television series, pretty much deserves its own category, and it came along with a slew of other TV shows and books featuring (frequently female) heroines facing tongue-in-cheek magical/horrific threats, including Charmed and Xena: Warrior Princess.

The Chucky and Leprechaun Films

I have no idea where those fit in, so I'm putting them here. These are like the silly counterparts to the already quite silly Jason Voorhees and Freddie Krueger films. Chucky is a weird doll that comes to life and attacks people (I guess — I've only read a comic-book adaptation) and there have been a million films about a silly leprechaun going around disemboweling people and controlling their minds. And rapping. And dancing.

Horror Spoofs

The Scream films in the late 1990s jumpstarted the slasher-movie genre with their knowing humor and sly horror-movie references. And then with the release of Scary Movie in 2000, the floodgates opened. There have been a ton of horror spoofs, many of them with the word "Movie" at the end of their titles. Plus the upcoming Transylmania, which exactly one person is excited about. (And we know where you live.)

Zombie Rom-Coms

Shaun Of The Dead, Planet Terror, Jennifer's Body and Zombieland all, to some extent, use the reanimated dead as a backdrop for character-focused comedies. (Okay, so the rom-com thing in the subhed is stretching it slightly — they don't all feature love stories, exactly. But some of them do.) Zombie comedies that are less character-focused include the Nazi epic Dead Snow, the zombie slave masterpiece Fido, the zombie sheep masterpiece Black Sheep and the incredibly nasty Zombie Strippers. Plus Bruce La Bruce's Otto, Or Up With The Dead People. Oh, and there's also last year's Poultrygeist: Night Of The Chicken Dead. No, really. There's also Jon Heder's webseries Woke Up Dead.

Meanwhile, in the world of books, many people see Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide as humorous, rather than as the indispensible handbook it is. There have also been a decent number of funny zombie books, including Breathers: A Zombie Lament by S.G. Browne, the mash-up Pride And Prejudice And Zombies, and several others.

Not entirely sure how it fits in, but horror spoof John Dies At The End, by Cracked.com editor Jason Pargin (under a pseudonym) is selling like hotcakes on Amazon.

Sources include Wikipedia, BoxOfficeMojo, IMDB, Scared Silly and the book Laughing Screaming: Modern Hollywood Horror & Comedy by William Paul.

Additional reporting by Mary Ratliff.

[via Whedonesque]

Let's quickly get the superhero stuff out of the way, shall we? DC is launching a new Azrael series, mixing Batman and The DaVinci Code for a new religious hero to light Gotham's streets. Or something.

DC is also putting out a hardcover collection of the much-delayed, but much-awesome Final Crisis: Legion of Three Worlds series, that redefined the Legion of Super-Heroes franchise at least until the next reboot.

Marvel sees that collection and raises Captain America: Road to Reborn, another hardcover collection, this time of the Cap issues leading up to Steve Rogers' return. Marvel also offers Dark Wolverine Vol. 1: The Prince, a collection of the first solo stories starring Wolverine's bastard (in many senses of the word) son, and the special issue Dark Reign: The List - Hulk, in which gamma irradiated monsters come face to face with Marvel's current New World Order (I predict smashing).

Keeping outside of monsters for the time being, Nexus: Space Opera and Star Trek: Mission's End offer your fill of interstellar drama for the week, with the former bringing back the cult space cop superhero from its 1980s indie comic heyday and the latter offering a take on the final days of James Kirk's original five-year mission. Sticking with movies, the first issue of GI Joe Movie: Snake Eyes lets Ray Park, the movie's own silent ninja, co-write a story about his own character.

But none of those, as fine as they are - and Nexus and Star Trek are both particularly fine - hold a candle to Image Comics' reissue of Five Fists of Science, Matt Fraction and Steven Saunders' alternate-history tale of Twain and Tesla teaming up to save the world from forces more ancient and deadly than many could imagine. If ever there was a book I could eagerly recommend to the majority of io9 readers, it'd be this one. Go forth and buy.

Oh, but not yet. We've still got the Hallowe'enish books to go! You know about Angel Vs. Frankenstein after yesterday's preview, but IDW also has Frankenstein's Mobster, a pun-laden, funny gangster romp recasting of Mary Shelley's misunderstood monster, and Spike Omnibus, a collection of stories about Joss Whedon's other vampire with a soul, for horror fans this week.

Marvel, meanwhile, has the first issue of The Stand: Soul Survivors, a new series adapting part of the Stephen King novel, and DC are putting out their annual DC Universe Hallowe'en Special filled with spooky shorts starring superhero favorites. 'Tis the season, after all.

Whether you're looking for things going bump in the night, or giant steampunk inventions designed to scare the world into peace, you'll be able to find it on this week's shipping list from Diamond Distributors, and then inside your local comic store. But, seriously: At least leaf through Five Fists Of Science. You'll thank me afterwards.

From the mind (and pen) of John Byrne, this holiday-themed oneshot goes back to olden days when Angel was Angelus and evil, and Frankenstein's Monster was looking for revenge. Of course, things don't necessarily go as either of them had planned, as the title may suggest:

Angel Vs. Frankenstein is released this Wednesday.

Oh, and there will be some spoilers for recent TV episodes here — most notably Fringe.

This is mostly a list of people whose characters died or departed forever, but then they went on to play a totally different character. This doesn't include people whose characters died and then came back to life, which is a totally different trope. (And I'm not including actors who played more than one minor character in a show, or a minor character followed later by a major character.)

Garret Dillahunt on Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles.

This amazingly versatile actor plays Cromartie, a Terminator sent from the future to kill John Connor. And after a season and a half of cat and mouse games, Cromartie finally gets blowed up good. But then his body gets repurposed and used as a UI for the childlike AI known as John Henry. (You could also say the same for Brian Austin Green, but that's slightly different — he came back as the exact same character, Derek Reese. It was just a different timeline where Derek hadn't died (yet.))

Sheryl Lee on Twin Peaks.

Laura Palmer dies (as you may have heard), but then actor Sheryl Lee shows up as Laura's nearly identical cousin Maddy. Good thing they wouldn't kill off the same actor twice... right?

Ali Larter on Heroes.

Larter plays the troubled webcam girl Niki, who's also the psychotic killer Jessica sometimes. But then Niki/Jessica dies... but it turns out Larter has an identical sister named Tracy. (And another one named Barbara, but apparently we'll never actually meet her.) And there's a mad scientist guy involved, who decided to give one sister weird water powers, and the other sister weird "psycho mirror" powers, because hello, mad scientist!

Doctor Carson Beckett on Stargate Atlantis

This jolly Scottish doctor is great at cooking up retroviruses and coming up with last-minute saves... but after he died at the end of the third season, fans were outraged. Good thing he was able to come back as his own clone. Also notable: Elizabeth Weir dies, but comes back as a machine intelligence (although I'm not sure if Torri Higginson ever played the mecha-Weir.)

Kirk Acevedo on Fringe .

This is the somewhat spoilery one: Acevedo's character, Charlie, dies at the end of the first episode of season two. But he's been replaced by an evil (or at least morally suspect) shapeshifter from an alternate world — where, presumably, there may also be another Charlie Francis running around. So we could eventually see Acevedo playing a third character. (And then a fourth, when the shapeshifter impersonates alt-Charlie?)

Amy Acker on Angel.

We were heartbroken when Fred died, but then chilled and shocked when she was reborn as the psychotic demon god Illyria. And then we learned to love her new persona almost (well maybe half) as much as her original one.

Terry O'Quinn on Lost.

Locke appears — emphasis on appears — to be stone dead, although maybe he's alive in another timeline? In any case, after Locke died, someone (or some thing) impersonated him, allowing O'Quinn to stretch his acting muscles and play Locke as, well, kind of a dick.

Denise Crosby on Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Oh. The pain. Tasha Yar dies, but then Crosby later reappears as Tasha Yar's daughter (from an alternate timeline) with a Romulan. You see, Picard sent alt-Tasha back in time to the Enterprise-C so it could be destroyed by Romulans and the timeline could be repaired, but alt-Tasha didn't die, and so she shacked up with the Romulans, and... oh, whatever. It's Crosby with pointy ears. Look!

Steve Bacic on Andromeda.

He plays Gaheris Rhade, who betrays Dylan Hunt and is killed in the show's pilot episode — although Gaheris reappears several times in flashbacks and one alternate history episode later. And then in later seasons, Bacic takes on a new character Telemachus Rhade, who's the descendant of Gaheris. (Thanks to Xicer for the heads up!)

Lalla Ward on Doctor Who.

Okay, so Ward's character, Princess Astra, didn't actually die — but she did get written out of the show forever. And then the Doctor's Time Lady companion, Romana suddenly decided to regenerate, and randomly chose to refashion herself into the guise of Princess Astra. You could also mention Anthony Ainley, who played Tremas in "Keeper Of Traken." Tremas died — but then his body got taken over, and he became the new incarnation of the Master — but Tremas was always just intended to be a new host body for the Master.

Katee Sackhoff on Battlestar Galactica.

This is another edge case — Starbuck definitely died, because there was a body. But did she come back to life? Is Sackhoff playing a different character in the final season of BSG? Your theory is at least as valid as mine, because I haven't a clue. Like the video says, "You Will Know The Truth."

Thanks to Alexis Brown, Meredith Woerner, Sam J. Miller, Paul McEnery, Sean Passmore, Katrina James, Rus McLaughlin, Kathleen Warnock, Robert Hewitt Wolfe, S.J. Edewards, David Daw, Debcha, Barclay Sylvester, Karen Meisner, Brooklyn Erica, and "Dillahunt News" on Twitter (is that actually Garret Dillahunt, or a fan?), plus anyone else who helped out.

When the hiatus was originally announced, back in August, it was just a couple of weeks, and Warner Bros. execs said it was designed to take advantage of the leeway from the show's already-announced Nov. 3 premiere date to "maximize creative difficulties."

Later, EW's Michael Ausiello reported that the real problem was that Warner Bros. and ABC weren't happy with the scripts that showrunner Jeff Bell was turning in. (Bell was showrunner on the final, best season of Angel, so we were excited to see him working on this show.) Said Ausiello, Bell was being bumped to the "number 2 spot" and show re-creator Scott Peters (The 4400) was becoming showrunner.

But now Visitorsite, which covers V as part of the Kryptonsite network of TV show-specific sites, says the hiatus is being extended. Or there's a second hiatus, it's not clear which. The show was supposed to resume shooting last week, after its earlier hiatus ended - but nobody seems to know if that actually happened. (We wrote to Warner Bros. seeking comment, and they haven't gotten back to us.) And now a Vancouver production chart site lists V as on hiatus from Sept. 25 to Oct. 14.

So if the show did resume production last week, it was only for a brief while. Or if it didn't, then its hiatus is extending from late August through to mid-October. Not a good sign for a show that's supposed to be one of ABC's flagships.

We were definitely getting the sense from odd comments here and there that ABC execs had turned lukewarm about having a show that's so overtly science-fictional — as opposed to its new show FlashForward, whose stars keep insisting it's not science fiction, even though it clearly is.

Here, for the record, is my theory about why science fiction seems to be doing better in movies than on television.

When Vampire Bill and Angel came out together I nearly bit my hand off I was so surprised. But what's with the knowing look David Boreanaz? You are Angel, and you will always be Angel. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I'd love to see what you guys come up with as a caption for this photograph. What would these two have to say to one another?

Another great little moment from the Emmy's was Michael Emerson winning for Lost, and then going up on stage and creeping us all the hell out. He really is Ben, isn't he? I knew it.

Kristin Chenoweth won for the cruelly canceled series Pushing Daisies, but we already talked about that still her acceptance speech was terrific.

And finally fellow nerd and "I'm A PC" John Hodgman's narrations throughout the evening almost made up for the fact that Battlestar Galactica was completely forgotten in every drama category besides directing, for Daybreak 2, which they didn't win. Still Hodgman's introductory riffs was the icing on the cake....

"If Michael Emerson weren't on television right now, he would be in New York City, having a fancy cocktail with me. That is, until S. Epatha Merkerson walked into the room, then he'd blow me off. That's a true story." -On Michael Emerson's victory in the Best Supporting Actor, Drama category

Read more Hodgemanisms over at NY Magazine.

The other day, I was watching Star Trek: The Next Generation reruns — and it turned out to be an episode all about Reg Barclay, the hypochondriac creep who likes to use Beverly Crusher as his holographic blow-up doll. He stars in like twenty episodes of the final season. And then I picked up the latest Buffy comic, and it was all about Andrew, the wet wiccan who inexplicably became one of the show's main characters in its last season. So, seriously: Why do annoying dweebs take over dying shows?

Usually, the arrival of the Andrew/Barclay character is a sign that the writers have run out of stories to tell about the existing cast. Hence the Reg Barclay effect, science fiction's version of the "Cousin Oliver" effect. (Actually, I realized that Reg first starred in an episode back in season three. But he definitely became more prominent in the last two seasons.) And often, this character has a few other notable qualities:

1) He/she is clearly a stand-in for the writers, being nerdy and full of exaggerated insecurity and self-mockery.
2) He/she contains qualities that existing characters already had, but they're pushed up to 11. Like, say, Andrew is like Xander on reverse-steroids, making him even weaker.
3) He/she is often put on some kind of accelerated character arc from clueless to loveable, or from good to evil, because all the other characters have already taken that journey and we need to see someone new take it.

Update: Thanks to all who commented. I had noticed that Barclay's first episode of TNG was in season three, but had been certain that he'd cropped up a lot more in seasons six and seven. But it turns out the Barclay pain was pretty evenly spread throughout seasons three, four, five, six and seven, with a slight spike in season six. He's referenced, but does not appear, in the Worf cowboy episode. So it's more accurate to say he took over Voyager, where he appears in a lot of the later episodes.

Here's our Hall Of Pain, showcasing the Reggiest Reg Barclays of SF television. Feel free to suggest your own additions, or argue with these choices:

The really annoying thing about both Andrew and Reg Barclay, of course, is that they went on to represent their respective shows on the inevitable spin-offs. While the actual cast members of TNG and Buffy were too busy trying to escape from being typecast, we got to revisit both Andrew and Reg on many, many occasions. Whenever Angel needed someone to pop up and be a mouthpiece of Buffy's new Slayer Army, Andrew fit the bill. And the final seasons of Star Trek: Voyager were almost as covered with Barclay's sweaty handprints as the final season of TNG was.

This is a plea to showrunners and TV producers everywhere — please don't Scrappy-Doo your final season. It's not worth it! If you think you're about to be canceled, don't project your anguish and insecurity onto the screen by giving us a character who has ever reason to be insecure. Don't pass your pain onto us, the viewers. And if you've run out of ideas for storylines about your actual main cast, turn them all into cyber-ninja-marmosets. We won't mind. Just please — don't inflict the Reg Barclay syndrome on us.

Note: As with everything in life, this post was greatly enriched by surfing TVTropes.org.

It's not just the comic continuations of canceled shows (which also include The X-Files, Angel and, soon, Pushing Daisies), though; old ideas are never allowed to die anymore anywhere; that's why we're reading news about Battlestar Galactica being relaunched as a movie by Bryan Singer, X-Files possibly undergoing a movie reboot, eagerly anticipating the 28-years-later sequel to Tron and worrying whether or not there's going to be a fifth Terminator movie.

Arguments could - and will - be made about how this shows the void of new ideas in the entertainment world, but I'm not sure that those really hold water; this year alone, we've seen District 9 and Moon find success, gotten curious about Chris Nolan's Inception and watched as James Cameron's Avatar has become the most anticipated movie of the year. New stories are out there, and from big studios normally condemned for only sticking with familiar franchises, as well (In television, the same arguments can be made; for all the familiarity of Fringe or Warehouse 13, they're new shows, as are/were Dollhouse, Day One and even Flash Forward. As far as comics go, you only have to leaf through the 400+ page Previews to see all manner of new ideas sharing space with familiar faces). So, if it's not that no-one's coming up with new stories, why do we keep going back to the old?

It can't just be nostalgia; you can't really tell me that Jericho's return as a comic book and potential TV movie comes down to people longing for those halcyon days of 2008, for one thing, and it's not just the sense of unfinished stories or unfulfilled potential (Unless I missed the legions of people crying out for someone to come along and give us the story of bearded Lorne Greene Adama in Galactica 1980 that they knew we deserved for all these years). So, what is it?
I'm worried that, ultimately, it's laziness. Not only laziness on the side of creators, but also on the side of fans; for the creators, resurrecting an old franchise seems like a no-brainer because it:
* offers a way around that whole pesky "coming up with an idea" thing,
* brings a ready-made amount of fans, no matter how small, who are not only already interested in your product but can take up some slack on marketing and publicity (Yes, this involves "I can't believe they're letting Bryan Singer do BSG only months after Ron Moore's show ended" style outrage),
* creates an easy PR hook for whatever publicity you want to do ("[Character X] is back!")
* allows you to learn from the mistakes and successes of your predecessors instead of making yourself look like idiots in public (Until, of course, you learn new ways to do that, which is inevitable), and
* gives you a chance to work out some of your "I could do that idea a million times better!" feelings about original version.

On the fan side of things, though, it gets more complicated. We cling onto these resuscitations because, in a weird way, we feel entitled to them: We've invested all this time and energy in them, and - for want of a better way to put it - that gives us the right to demand more of it until we decide we're done (See: Star Trek and Star Wars and the fact that they'll never go away), and also because... well, we've invested all this time and energy and we want to know that it's not for nothing, and that we won't have to go through it all again with something else that might just break our heart.

In the end, it's as much a success for the market as it is anything else: Everything is available to us if we want it badly enough (Well, as long as what we want already exists; those new things, they still have to be dreamt up), even if it's not what we really need, or what is good for us. Don't get me wrong; for the people who couldn't consider life without knowing what happened to Angel and Illyria after the end of the TV show, I'm happy that they get their chance to find out (And I selfishly look forward to the further adventures of Ned and Chuck, when they appear). I just wish that, sometimes, we were not only allowed to move on from our old favorites and find something else to surprise and amaze us.

We've all been there. Watching our favorite show when we realize that the situation we find our main characters in is completely and utterly ridiculous. The characters are stepping into plot holes so deep, you can't help commenting on it from the sofa. It's actually a relief when someone on screen points out the absurdity of what everyone else is struggling to take seriously. So it's a good thing modern science fiction has a particular talent for giving the audience a surrogate in the storylines.

Joss Whedon, in particular, has a great talent for lacing his shows and movies with smart-aleck rebels who provide a running commentary. His characters are often hyper-aware of the weird, outlandish situations they find themselves in. Take this scene from the pasted together Firefly pilot, "The Train Job." The great "villain doesn't care about money" cliche is turned on its head at the hands of the great Mal Reynolds:

The Whedonverse's most emo couple, Buffy and Angel, come in for their share of mockery as well. Most famously, there's the great scene involving Spike providing his own voice-over for Angel's superhero run. But there's also this barely remembered Cordy/Wes gem instead. The point is, it could just as easily be Topher, Spike, Wash or even Boyd on a good day making the observations that we seem to yell at our tv screens.

And then there's Heroes, which gave us Hiro Nakamura serving as the next best thing to an audience surrogate, the fan who becomes part of the action, for most of season one. He goes out of his way to break down the comic book rules of the Heroes world and even sneaks in a few Star Trek references along the way. But perhaps the most self-aware character on Heroes is Sylar, who manages to keep a sense of irony about his own actions long into the show's decline. One of the few pleasures of the past two years has been those moments when Sylar practically smirks at the camera.

But even a deadly serious show like Battlestar Galactica serves up a voice of audience mockery in the form of Gaius Baltar, who regularly comments on how goofy everything is. The Baltar syndrome can enable the audience to swallow a lot of bizarre and nonsensical plot twists, because at least Gaius is admitting it's all a bit silly.

Then there's the character who's both the ascended fan (like Hiro) and the audience surrogate. A perfect example of this dynamic combo is Venture Brothers' Henchman 21:

He is us, and unlike Hiro, he didn't have any awesome superpowers to distinguish himself from any other random dude who wears tights and butterfly wings. His jokes don't come from a generic fan P.O.V. (which is what Hiro's jokes devolved into) but came from someone who truly knew nerd culture.

Futurama's Fry has a similar position. He's unapologetically below average in every way, and his voice represents the audiences' most basic observations about the "future." What really makes that show shine, however, is the reversal of the surrogate's role with the main cast. Fry's seemingly logical observations are ridiculed and laughed off as a caveman's ramblings. And then, the caveman is told that he's the most important person in the universe. I don't know about you guys, but it's definitely this fangirl's dream to be told that she's destined to defeat a race of glowly brains for fun, glory and profit.

1999's Galaxy Quest was a whole movie built around the premise of teasing the Star Trek and Star Wars cultures. What made that film great wasn't merely the laughs (or Rainn Wilson's role) — it was the fact that it could make fun of itself while respecting the genre fans who would inevitably go and see it. It wasn't a "look how stupid geeks are" representation (like, say, Big Bang Theory), but had a message more akin to "geeks are pretty weird, but they've got a heart of gold."

Lost also takes a stab at the ascended fanboy with Hurley. He plays the part of the not-insanely-good-looking castaway that seems the most like the guy that works at your local video store. And whenever there's a bizarre time-travel plot or mysterious hatch, Hurley is the guy who asks the questions you wish you could ask the writers:

It's not easy for genre shows to have a surrogate who accurately represents the main audience, but when it's done right, they're most often our favorite characters. I know Ryan Reynolds has a lot on his plate right now, but he should seriously take this all into consideration before the Deadpool film comes out.

I think there's an argument to be made that lawyers are underrepresented in science fiction, at least relative to their prevalence in other genres. Compared to, say, doctors, who show up all the time in pretty much every science fiction show (as an earlier post on this very site once examined), you generally need a pretty specific reason to bring a lawyer onto the scene, and a lot of the time even a trial won't do it.

After all, how many times have science fiction protagonists found themselves in kangaroo courts, forced to offer their own best defense? There's apparently not much of a right to legal representation in the future. For instance, roughly half of all Doctor Who stories find the Doctor under arrest for one reason or another, and I can't name a single character in the entire history who could really be considered a lawyer (with the possible exception of the Valeyard, which I'm not counting for so many reasons).

That's not to say there aren't any great lawyers in science fiction - far from it. Here are some of the best.

Samuel T. Cogley, Star Trek

In most of the trials seen over the course of the Star Trek franchise's long history, the defendants simply represented themselves. This probably had something to do with the fact that the characters were all in the military, but it's just as likely that this made it easier to give the show's stars big dramatic speeches. (Seriously, check out this list of the show's "lawyers" from Memory Alpha. It's basically just a list of the various shows' captains and first officers.)

But, when Kirk found himself faced with a case even he could not theatrically bluster his way out of - and keep in mind we're talking about William Shatner at the height of his hammy powers here, so this is a seriously impossible case we're talking about - he turned to super-lawyer Samuel T. Cogley to lead his defense. Famous for his Luddite tendencies, which included such eccentricities as reading books on paper instead of on computer. Not one to do anything halfway, Cogley's spirited defense included references to "the Bible, the Code of Hammurabi and of Justinian, the Magna Carta, the United States Constitution, the Fundamental Declarations of the Martian colonies and the Statutes of Alpha III", all of which I plan on citing as precedents should I ever find myself standing before a judge.

Cogley's defense didn't exactly lead to an acquittal, but it did provide Kirk and Spock enough time to prove the man Kirk had supposedly murdered was, in fact, alive and well and tampering with the ship's systems. With his case concluded, Cogley decided to move on to defending Kirk's supposed victim, noting he felt very good about his chances.

And let's also give a quick shout-out to Worf's grandfather, who was also called Worf, for his thankless job advocating for Kirk and McCoy at their Klingon show trial in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. Although I must admit that that throwaway cameo originally left me with the mistaken impression that Lieutenant Worf was about 150 years old by the time of The Next Generation.

Romo Lampkin, Battlestar Galactica & Joseph Adama, Caprica

Easily the best of Battlestar Galactica's later season additions (with all due respect to noted neurosurgeon John Hodgman), Romo Lampkin combined the sort of lovable sleaziness central to any Mark Sheppard performance, mixed with a brilliant if fractured legal philosophy. Seemingly just a mercenary lawyer taking on the obviously indefensible defense of disgraced president Gaius Baltar, he proceeded to build a case equal parts audacious (such as changing Baltar's plea to guilty just to make a point) and ludicrous (such as calling Lee Adama, his own partner on the defense and the son of one of the judges, to the stand to testify - this is a perk of trying a case in front of ship's captains instead of actual legal experts, I guess). Oh, and he's also a kleptomaniac and was briefly President of the Colonies. Although, quite honestly, who wasn't President of the Colonies towards the end?

In time, Lampkin reveals that he learned many of his best tricks from Joseph Adama, famous (some would say infamous) civil liberties lawyer back on Caprica. Much of his story remains to be told, as he will be the central figure of the prequel series Caprica, but it has already been revealed that he also defended members of the Ha'la'tha crime syndicate, which he had to do to repay them for funding his legal education. Still, he also defended the so-called "worst of the worst" partly out of a more altruistic need to air out society's failings. He always said his trademark silver lighter brought him good luck and made him unbeatable whenever he took it with him to court, a claim both his son and grandson later took much comfort in as they took the lighter with them on their most dangerous missions.

The law firm of Wolfram & Hart, Angel

The main adversaries for the mostly reformed vampire Angel, Wolfram and Hart represents the Earthly interests of an ancient group of demons. Beyond engaging in a variety of extracurricular activities that run the gamut from unscrupulous to criminal to utterly detestable (and, whenever possible, all three at once), the law firm also makes a point of representing society's most reprehensible slime, such as corrupt politicians. Supposedly, Wolfram & Hart would not exist without the evil inherent to all people. If I may make an exceedingly easy joke, I'm not clear how this distinguishes it from any other law firm.

Stephen Byerley, I, Robot by Isaac Asimov

Isaac Asimov's landmark collection of robot stories features two tales that might not actually have any robots in them at all. These two stories, "Evidence" and "The Evitable Conflict", focus on Stephen Byerley, a successful prosecutor currently running for Mayor of New York City. His enemies in the Quinn political machine accuse him of being a robot, forcing Susan Calvin and the rest of US Robots and Mechanical Men to attempt to verify that claim. Their various tests prove inconclusive, and Byerley refuses to prove his humanity on the grounds that that is not something any human should have to prove.

"Evidence" never exactly reveals one way or the other whether Byerley is, in fact, a robot, but the clues probably point to a cautious "yes." (Whether or not he is a robot isn't even at issue in "The Evitable Conflict", where he has moved on from Mayor of New York to the only slightly more powerful position of World Coordinator.) This is qualified by the fact that Susan Calvin argues convincingly that a robot could never be a lawyer, as the unshakable parameters of the First Law of Robotics would prevent a robot from ever understanding the complex concept of "justice."

His detractors' claim that he only prosecutes those that he is certain are guilty is rejected by Dr. Calvin, as Byerley could never get past the direct harm of imprisoning a man if he were a robot. The story makes a number of satirical points, such as pointing out that someone everyone thinks is a robot because he or she appears to follow the Three Laws of Robotics might simply be a very good person, as the Three Laws are essentially a simple code of ethics. Whether Asimov intends any further syllogism to be made when he suggests a robot could never be a lawyer is up to the reader to decide.

Livia Beale, Journeyman

The short-lived 2007 series followed Dan Vasser, a San Francisco reporter who travels randomly in time. During its brief run, Journeyman also introduced Vasser's former fiance, Livia Beale (played by Terminator Salvation's Moon Bloodgood), who had seemingly died in a plane crash. She was actually another traveler in time who was originally from 1948. Finding herself stuck in our time period seemingly for good, she decided to become a lawyer and make a new life for herself. She has to leave all this behind when the plane crash makes her resume her time jumping, although she is now able to help Dan in his own travels.

Linda Ziegler and Dale Rice, Illegal Alien by Robert J. Sawyer

Canadian science fiction author Robert J. Sawyer is one of the best when it comes to examining the ethical implications futuristic ideas. His courtroom drama Illegal Alien pits prosecutor Linda Ziegler against famous civil rights lawyer Dale Rice in just the latest trial of the century to hit Los Angeles. This time, it is the alien Hask of the Tosok race who finds himself facing murder charges, and Rice takes it upon himself to clear the alien of the charges. Both his and Ziegler's arguments are as much based upon slick theatrics and larger questions of alien rights as they are the pertinent facts of the case (which, as they so often do in science fiction stories, point to a larger conspiracy).

Nathan Petrelli, Heroes

Although Nathan Petrelli started out as a lawyer in the New York City District Attorney's office, this is pretty much behind him before the show even starts. Like many real-life lawyers, he used his legal career as a springboard into politics, with the first episode of Heroes already showing him as a Congressional candidate.

The law firm of Crane, Constable, McNeil & Montero, Century City

This 2004 show mostly came and went without anyone noticing, and it hasn't even picked up the modest following of something like Journeyman. Still, the show deserves plenty of credit for being probably the closest thing to pure legal science fiction ever shown on TV. Set in 2030, a time when Oprah Winfrey is president, the moon is colonized, and there is universal health care for all, Century City looks at the various cases undertaken by the four partners at the law firm of Crane, Constable, McNeil & Montero.

These cases touch on everything from the ethics of cloning to identity theft that actually entails stealing entire personalities. It only ran for four episodes before CBS canceled it. Perhaps we'll just have to wait for the seemingly indestructible Law & Order franchise to make a futuristic spin-off (it can be called Law & Order: Futuristic Spin-Off!) for legal science fiction to get a real foothold in the TV landscape.

Harvey Birdman, Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law

What Century City tried to do for all of science fiction's many tropes and elements, the Adult Swim classic Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law did far more successfully for the rather more narrow field of sixties Hanna Barbera cartoons. The washed-up hero turned barely qualified lawyer Harvey Birdman was probably the sanest person at his largely psychotic law firm, and he too was in all probability certifiably insane, which had mixed results when it actually came time to go to trial. (The fact that the judges themselves were also completely bonkers was a big randomizer.)

The show's science fiction credentials weren't always particularly strong, but it did retain enough of a flavor of Birdman's old job as a third-rate superhero for me to feel comfortable including it on this list. The show also occasionally featured cases that highlighted some of Hanna Barbera's more obviously science fiction programs, including the Jetson family (from the far future time of 2004!) suing the past for destroying the environment and forcing their entire society to live high above the clouds of the destroyed Earth.

Judiciary Pag, Life, the Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams

His High Judgmental Supremacy, Judiciary Pag, the Learned, Impartial, and Very Relaxed, might technically be more of a judge than a lawyer, but I'll still include him for a couple of reasons. One, he probably started out as a lawyer, and two, he's easily my favorite minor character in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy saga. Judiciary Pag was most famous for sentencing the people of Krikkit some ten billion years ago to imprisonment in a Slo-Time seal after they tried to kill everybody in the entire universe (which, he points out, he feels like doing the same thing some mornings).

He was hated by pretty much all of his colleagues for his unprofessional manner and supremely laid-back approach to the law. (For instance, he marked what he rightly recognized as the most important moment in legal history by sticking some gum under his chair.) He got away with all this because he was, in fact, the greatest legal mind the cosmos would ever know. Pag or, as he preferred to be known for reasons that made sense only to him, Zipo Bibrok 5 × 10⁸, handed down his ruling on the Krikit matter to great acclaim and thunderous, which he would have been around to receive if he hadn't already slipped away with one of the more attractive members of the jury to whom he had slipped a note about a half hour beforehand.

A whole bunch of characters from Marvel and DC Comics

There's no shortage of lawyers among the superhero community. As superhero (and villain) origin stories go, former lawyer was particularly popular in the Golden Age. The first costumed crimefighter, Brian O'Brien was a former district attorney who took a more direct role in meting out justice when he became the masked vigilante The Clock in 1936. Numerous others followed, including the Quality Comics character Mouthpiece, the Timely Comics hero Laughing Mask, and the original version of the Batman foe the Thinker.

In more recent years, Marvel has created a bunch more lawyers, including Sharon Ginsberg, Cameron Hodge, and Black Bishop - and those are just the ones who are X-Men villains. There's also the X-Men's own attorney, Evangeline Whedon, who can turn into a dragon, the rather obscure seventies superhero Dominic Fortune, and Captain America's ex-girlfriend Bernie Rosenthal.

But Marvel's two most famous lawyers really have to be Matt Murdock and Jennifer Walter, better known respectively as Daredevil and She-Hulk. Matt Murdock's legal career has probably been a more consistent part of his character over the years, but Dan Slott's run on She-Hulk arguably did the most sustained (and most fun) exploration of the intersection between superheros and the law, as Jennifer Walter (and, quite explicitly, not She-Hulk) is hired by the law firm of Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg & Holliway to help defend heroes whose vigilante activities lead to all too common misunderstandings with more traditional law enforcement.

On the DC side of things, the most famous lawyer would probably have to be Harvey Dent, who of course was Gotham City's district attorney before he became Two-Face. In the current Batman: Reborn event that is launching Dick Grayson's tenure as the Caped Crusader, Gotham's new DA is Kate Spenser, better known as the vigilante Manhunter. An even more brutal lawyer-turned-crimefighter was the eighties version of Vigilante, who in his civilian life was New York City prosecutor Adrian Chase. Other lawyers in the DC universe include the Atom's very estranged and now villainous wife Jean Loring, Power Company hero Josiah Power, the mostly immortal Resurrection Man, and, reaching a bit further back into DC lore to the wonderfully ludicrous times before Crisis on Infinite Earths, the Robin of Earth-Two.

The Hyper-Chicken, Futurama

Is there any greater lawyer in all of science fiction than this simple hyper-chicken from a backwoods asteroid? Tasked with some of the thirty-first century's most impossible cases, he does about as well as can be expected, which is to say he doesn't completely lose all of them. He did help Bender beat the rap for non-drunk driving after he crashed a dark matter tanker into the Pluto penguin sanctuary (although he wasn't nearly as successful in his own trial for that there "incompetence"). He helped Fry and Bender avoid serious jail time after they unwittingly abetted a bank robbery by successfully arguing they were both insane, offering the simple evidence that they had hired him as their lawyer.

In his prosecution of Zapp Brannigan for blowing up DOOP headquarters, his oddball legal tactics ranged from the brilliant (like calling the jury, which was entirely composed of DOOP delegates, to the stand just so they could confirm they were going to convict Zapp) to the somewhat less brilliant (like his insistence on establishing whether or not Leela was wearing a hoop skirt at the time). A deleted scene from the most recent Futurama movie finally provided the name Matcluck for the character, but really he'll always simply be the Hyper-Chicken, and that's all he needs to be. Just don't mention badgers in front of him.

The three page short "Almost Darkest" - written by Whedon and illustrated by Jo Chen, the artist behind the amazing covers to the current Buffy The Vampire Slayer Season Eight comic - may just end up as a seemingly random dream indulging fans' and Whedon's fantasies (Buffy marrying Warren? Really?), but at least it features this sequence:

The strip is available on publisher Dark Horse's website, as part of their Dark Horse Presents online anthology series.

Always Darkest [Dark Horse]

Angel Heart is dark urban fantasy at its most chicken-slaughteringly great. A hot, young Mickey Rourke plays detective Harry Angel, hired by a seriously Satanized Robert De Niro to find an elusive figure named Johnny Favourite. The more he hunts for Favourite, the creepier things get. De Niro luridly eats a hard boiled egg in front of him, and then he gets involved with a young voodoo priestess (Lisa Bonet) whose mother liked to drink blood with Favourite.

The movie is basically soaked in terrible stereotypes of everybody, from the "savage voodoo" types to the "ladies who like forced sex" types. Plus De Niro's hair in a bun. And there's a twist ending that is the sort of thing the demon spawn of Fritz Leiber and Philip K. Dick would scribble out in a darkened brothel basement while mainlining bug powder.

I could have shown you so many great scenes in this flick, but I decided what you really needed this weekend was a chance to see the Full Mickey in action with his voodoo lady. First they're just having sex, but then suddenly there's like blood, and scary feet, and scarier candles, and a horrifying washing lady, utterly terrifying elevators, and (gasp) orgies!!! Plus, seriously bad sex with Mickey. Iron Man could never top this.

Angel Heart via IMDB

Bell, is known for his work on X-Files, Alias and the best part of Angel (right around the time the lonely vampire took charge of Wolfram and Hart). In fact, Bell was showrunner for the final season of Angel.

"Like many people, I have fond memories of whatching the original miniseries," Bell said. "And to see how they did it now, it's epic. (Exec producer/scribe) Scott Peters did a fantastic job relaunching it. It seems like there are so many ways that you could go with this story."

While Bell's deal is for two years, the alien invasion series is on a year-by-year contract. The first year will consist of 13 episodes, and the next could have more (or none). The drama will begin in January. Scott Peters, of The 4400 fame, and the brains behind the updated V, will remain an executive producer.

[Variety]

It's a surprisingly good week for books this week, with a lot of unusual projects making their debut at the stores. How unusual?

Well, take Marvel's Lockjaw And The Pet Avengers, for example. It's a book about the superheroes of the animal kingdom, whether they're teleporting dogs, firebreathing dragons or frog versions of Thor. It's one of a number of first issues from the self-styled House of Ideas this week, with the others including Dark Reign: Young Avengers (wherein Doctor Who's Paul Cornell takes on Marvel's answer to the Teen Titans) and GeNext United (continuing Chris Claremont's alternate future tale of the X-Men's children).

But can anything really eclipse what may be Marvel's most eagerly-anticipated hardcover collection? No, not World War Hulk or X-Men: Manifest Destiny (although both are released tomorrow.) I'm talking about Secret Wars II, the seemingly-endless, seemingly-cocaine-fueled 1980s excess of Marvel Comics' then-boss Jim Shooter trying to write a story about the meaning of life. Seriously, if you can spare the $99.99, you owe it to yourself to experience it.

By comparison, DC has little to match up... But that's not to say that The Unwritten (which we previewed yesterday) and a new edition of The History of The DC Universe aren't worth picking up. And Superman: New Krypton Volume 1 catches you up on the current crazy status quo for the character, that sees him abandon Earth in favor of his own race.

Elsewhere, IDW launches a new Angel series, Not Fade Away, for the Whedonites, while also putting out Astro Boy Movie Prequel: Underground for those looking forward to this fall's revival of everyone's favorite atomic Pinocchio.

Similar nostalgia will be found in the Flash Gordon 75th Anniversary Special hardcover from Ardden Entertainment. But I'd rather draw your attention to Boom!'s Unthinkable - which Alyssa reviewed this weekend - and The Unknown, which offers up the start of a story that feels more than a little Fringe-esque in all the right ways, as the world's greatest detective decides to investigate what happens after death, considering she's only six months away from her end.

No matter what you're looking for, chances are you'll find some variation of it in this week's complete list of comics shipping to comic stores, and the Comic Store Locator will help you find where your closest store is, so you'll know just where to find your goodies. Just don't be too embarrassed to ask for that book with the frog God Of Thunder.