Unbeknownst to most comic book fans, Wolverine foe Omega Red is not only an evil Soviet super-soldier; he's also a modern-day lothario and sweaty practitioner of the erotic arts. This evening, Mr. Red addresses the topic of convention love.
It may come as a shock to you that Omega Red is a relationship guru. After all, he's mostly spent his time in the public eye fighting Wolverine for some clandestine reason or another, screaming about carbonadium (a.k.a. the bastardized Soviet version of adamantium), or dying (yup, Omega Red kicked it — he died in Wolverine: Origins 39 last year).
But these were all cases of gross mischaracterization...even his death! In reality, Omega Red (née Arkady Rossovich) is a man with a slow hand, he's a lover with a death touch. And he's currently visiting the io9 Master Control Program, ready to field your question on all matters of the naked flesh. I'll be moderating, as Red does have the propensity go off on tangents.
Today's letter comes from Norbert Spass from Cologne, Germany. Norbert writes...
Dear Omega Red,
Greetings from Deutschland! I am traveling to San Diego this week to attend Comic Con International 2010. I realize that I will have only a few days of merriment, but I feel like a gathering of like-minded folks should yield a soulmate (or at least an Apfelkorn-fueled hook-up with a T'Pol). How I do meet babes at Comic Con?
Cyriaque: All right, so there's our question. I'll pass the mic to Red, who will now elaborate on what the French call l'amour du convention du comique.
Omega Red: Norbert, the love between two convicts is a love that is not based on traditional relationship principles. It is an opportunistic love, a love that mirrors Stockholm Syndro-
CL: Red, what are you talking about?
OR: You said this was a meditation on con love, no?
CL: Convention love.
OR: What is this convention you speak of? I do not know anything about conventional love. I know only Omega Red Love, the kind of love that leaves women red in the face. First, I tickle the soles of her feet with my carbonadium coils. Then, I tickle her taste buds with Beluga caviar. Finally, I tickle her ear canal with slap bass. This works too:
CL: For a hardened super-soldier, you're all about the tickling.
OR: (suddenly crestfallen) I then notice that my vampiric death aura has tickled her to death. At this juncture, I find a new woman to tickle.
CL: Right. Red, what Norbert's asking about is conventions. Y'know, the places people gather to talk about comics and movies and gaming-
OR: Who are these people? Where do they gather?
CL: Well, you know, they're just fans.
OR: Names. Omega Red wants names.
CL: That's kind of difficult, as thousands of people attend conventions every year.
OR: So these conventions are like a shadow cabal, yes? Like HYDRA, AIM, COBRA, SPECTRE, THRUSH, no?
CL: Well, I guess a shadow cabal of fun, maybe. People do dress up in de facto uniforms, like brown coats, red shirts-
OR: I like this idea of red shirts. Omega Red wants a red shirt. Omega Red is rethinking his stance on conventions.
CL: No, trust me, you don't.
OR: My style icons are Ivan Drago and Alice Cooper. Both are strong proud men who wear the color red with dastardly aplomb. Wolverine does not wear red because he is like Batman's hillbilly cousin from Alberta-
CL: Oh, here we go...
OR: HE IS THE COMIC BOOK EQUIVALENT OF A DRUNK FLOPHOUSE SUPERINTENDENT WHO HAS KATANA BLADES GRAFTED TO HIS METACARPALS WHO SLEPT IN THE DAY THAT THE CATCHPHRASE STORE WAS HAVING A SALE BECAUSE MR. T BOUGHT ALL THE GOOD ONES.
CL: I don't even know what that means. Red, could you just answer Norbert's question? I've got to pack for San Diego.
OR: Norbert, I still have no idea what this convention that you speak of is, but you've told me several integral details that I think will aid you in your quest to mate:
1.) There will be millions of faceless people there.
2.) They are all gathered under the auspices of some shadowy force.
3.) Some people will be wearing red.
Given the circumstances you've described, I have no choice but to assume that you are attempting to get laid in the realm of THE DREAD DORMAMMU.
You would be better served indulging your genitalia in a piping hot toaster streusel. If anyone else reading this has similar carnal inclinations, do not act upon them. Hellfire has no place in the urethra. I speak from experience.
Do you have any questions about sex, dating, or courtship for Omega Red? Drop him a line at the email below (unless you're Marvel's lawyers).
[Top photo via Koadmunkee's Flickr]