Latest news with #Brainiac
Scottish Sun
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Scottish Sun
The 1% Club viewers in awe as ‘genius' footballer wins £100k for charity – but would you have got final question right?
WATCH the moment in our video player - can you get the right answer? impressive win The 1% Club viewers in awe as 'genius' footballer wins £100k for charity – but would you have got final question right? THE 1% Club viewers were left in awe as a 'genius' footballer bagged an incredible £100,000 for charity. Lee Mack presented a Soccer Aid special of the popular ITV quiz show. Advertisement 4 The 1% Club aired a Soccer Aid special episode Credit: ITV 4 It saw Clarke Carlisle and Lloyd Griffith reach the final round Credit: ITV 4 Can you crack the pair's tricky 1% question? Credit: ITV A star-studded lineup including Jill Scott, Iain Stirling, Paddy McGuinness and Tommy Fury played on behalf of UNICEF. In the end, former footballer Clarke Carlisle and comedian Lloyd Griffith reached the final round. Lee asked the pair: "In the opening verse to the original version of Three Lions, what TWO words feature exactly three times in the lyrics?" The lyrics were shown on screen as a reference as they tried to figure out the answer in 30 seconds. Advertisement When it came time to answer, Lloyd, 41, admitted he'd misread the question. Meanwhile, Clarke, 45, offered up "it" and "know" as his answer to the puzzle. It was soon revealed that Clarke was correct - and had bagged a whopping £100,000 for UNICEF. Fans took to X and sang the star's praises, with one penning: "Clarke Carlisle you Brainiac!! Well done!" Advertisement Another shared: "Absolutely delighted for Clarke! Always had a brilliant brain - but came close to losing him!" A third chimed in: "Clarke Carlisle is a genius!!" The 1% Club player makes blunder on question that had 11 people stumped Having reached the 1% question, Clarke and Lloyd had won £10,000 for UNICEF. Unlike the regular show, this money was not in jeopardy and was guaranteed whatever happened. Advertisement Clarke also still had his pass intact, meaning the charity would be definitely receiving £11,000 altogether. Not every contestant is as lucky - as a tricky alphabet question in the regular show knocked out 18 players. Contestants were shown four words and asked to spot the one that does not contain three consecutive letters from the alphabet. The options were, Unopenable, Understandable, Unquestionable, and Undefineable. Advertisement The answer turned out to be C, 'Unquestionable'. ' Unopenable' contains 'NOP', 'Undefineable' includes 'DEF', and 'Understandable' also hides 'RST'. The 1% Club airs on ITV1 and ITVX. 4 Did you manage to work it out? Credit: ITV
Daily Mirror
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mirror
The 1% Club fans praise ‘genius' footballer after £100,000 win
The former player bagged a huge win for charity The 1% Club viewers have branded a former football star as a 'genius' after he bagged £100,000 for charity. The ITV gameshow, hosted by Lee Mack, aired its Soccer Aid special on Saturday night (7th June), and saw Clarke Carlisle striking the jackpot. After a competitive episode, which featured a star-studded panel including Paddy McGuiness, boxer Tommy Fury and Love Island commentator Ian Stirling, Carlisle and comedian Lloyd Griffith were left standing. Their winning question asked: "In the opening verse to the original version of Three Lions, what TWO words feature exactly three times in the lyrics?" With the lyrics plastered on the screen to help them, the final duo confirmed their answers. Carlisle answered correctly, pointing out that 'it' and 'know' appear three times in the verse. Viewers have been left impressed by the 45-year-old's efforts, with many taking to X, formerly Twitter, to share their praises. "In classic commentary narrative, Clarke Carlisle just hit the back of the net. Well done Clarke," gushed one. Another chimed in, penning: "Clarke Carlisle you Brainiac!! Well done!" A third fan simply said: "Wow he's so clever," while a fourth declared: "Clarke Carlisle is a genius!!" This is a breaking showbiz story and is being constantly updated. Please refresh the page regularly to get the latest news, pictures and videos. You can also get email updates on the day's biggest stories straight to your inbox by signing up for our newsletters.
Geek Tyrant
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Geek Tyrant
Rumored Details Surface For SUPERMAN Post-Credits Scenes — GeekTyrant
Rumors about the post-credits scenes for James Gunn's Superman have surfaced, and if what's being said is even halfway true, DC fans have some cool things to look forward too. If this is true, this is spoiler information, so proceed with caution. According to Film Threat, early details from recent test screenings claim that Gunn's DCU kickoff includes not one, but two post-credits scenes. The first reportedly introduces Brainiac, who is one of Superman's most iconic and long-anticipated villains. The second is an appearance by Lanterns star Kyle Chandler as Hal Jordan. Now, before anyone starts stitching together a new fan theory timeline or updating their DCU bingo cards, it's worth noting that this info is far from confirmed. Industry insider Daniel Richtman chimed in with a reality check, saying, 'None of the Superman test screenings so far have featured the post-credits scene.' That's not to say there won't be any post-credits scenes at all, or that there hasn't been at least one screening with the scenes attached, but right now, no one knows for sure what they'll be. The idea of Brainiac being set up as Superman's next villain is awesome. As for Green Lantern, we know that Nathan Fillion's Guy Gardener will also appear in the Lanterns series, that the poster credits scene could set tgat up. We're still a ways out from Superman hitting theaters, and Gunn's been playing things close to the chest. Until then, let the speculation fly.
Geek Dad
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Geek Dad
Review – Absolute Superman #7: The Many Minds of Brainiac
Absolute Superman #7 cover, via DC Comics. Ray: The Absolute titles have developed a very distinct visual sense, and the artists are all top-tier, so it's a very smart move that when one of them needs a break, the writers bring in a pinch-hitter for a very specific type of story. Most include flashbacks and major reveals about side characters – and they're just as brilliant as the main story. That's definitely the case for this villain-centric one-shot, which takes us behind the scenes with Brainiac, the hyper-intelligent being doing the tech work for Lazarus Corp. So far, Brainiac has seemed brilliant and manipulative, but maybe not quite as evil as Ra's Al Ghul and the Peacemakers. Yeah, you can throw that out the window, because behind the scenes, this is one of the most disturbing comics I've read in a long time, and this Brainiac is one of the most evil characters I've ever read in fiction, and it all starts with his twisted treatment of a unique victim – himself. Hunted. Via DC Comics. When we meet Brainiac in this world, he's in the middle of an obsessive search for Superman – torturing a man he's experimenting on and destroying whole cities when they lack the information he needs. A flashback shows that most of Brainiac's victims are in fact other Brainiacs – he's cloning himself constantly, using his clones for menial labor, and disposing of them when they wear out. And we follow one clone, whose job is cleaning up other dead clones, as he slowly gains more awareness, and then finds himself in a surprising position of power – one that makes him maybe the most disturbing Brainiac ever. After all, one of the defining characteristics of Brainiac is his obsession with rationality. What happens when all that power and intelligence winds up in the hands of someone who's already had their mind shattered? It's a terrifying concept, and one that's executed brilliantly here. To find reviews of all the DC issues, visit DC This Week. GeekDad received this comic for review purposes. Liked it? Take a second to support GeekDad and GeekMom on Patreon!
Express Tribune
21-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
Of cafes, couples and chaos
That evening, I walked into a café as I often barge into such places: dumbfounded by the day, dwindling in self-confidence, dressed to attract nothing but house-flies and famished enough to devour a horse; provided it was an Arabian one and served with a side of fries. I must confess it was a rather cozy place, somewhere in the vicinity of nowhere I call Gulberg. The first thing that hit me was the aroma of semi-burnt espresso, topped with the fully-burnt dreams of the underpaid baristas. I looked around to locate a seat. There were more than a dozen; empty, however, there was none but one. I elbowed my way through the narrow space and reached the seat near the glass-window. Outside, as I sneaked a peak, continuous people-watching was in progress: that scenario, you know, where people judge strangers for free. I looked around then. To my left, I saw the two creatures that looked like professors. Somehow, they had some loud, unmistaken professorship written all over them. The aged one had a beard so wild it looked like it had staged a coup against his face. The damn thing (beard, I mean) looked graduated; half white from the existential threat and half-dark from self-denial. His wrinkled face had more lines than a Shakespearean play and it made him look even more confused than he actually was. If confusion were an art, I thought, this guy would be the Mona Lisa of befuddlement. The younger one wore glasses thick enough to spot life on Neptune, or, if you wish to stay closer to earth, Mars. With glasses as thick as a dictionary and vibes of academically-elevated stupidity, his name could very well have been Prof Brainiac. He had been nursing his latte long enough for it to evolve into a cappuccino. "Now you see," burped Beard, gesturing wildly with his biscotti, "Even the non-living matter has some level of consciousness". "Nonsense!" retorted Glasses and slammed his medium-sized cup down so hard that his latte freaked out and jumped beyond the edges in protest. "Does that mean a cucumber shall curse me when I eat it for salad?" Eavesdropping is ill manners, admitted, but O boy! Was I fascinated by their seriousness? Never could I imagine Salad-Philosophy being a subject of such animated passion. I was so tempted to inquire more about the psychic dilemmas of a plump tomato or the effects of infidelity in couples of carrots; but somehow, I avoided sparking the professors' fancy. To my right sat a couple mid-argument. The man, as bald as a ripe watermelon, looked like middle-aged mediocrity personified. His head shone brighter than the brightest plates in the café. He could have been deployed on a rooftop as a solar panel; on commercial basis. Though he sat there in an awkwardly ill-fitting red suit with the price tag still hanging down his sleeve, he was nothing short of the human embodiment of a bounced cheque. Beside him, though at a safe-to-flee distance, sat a very pretty girl with a face that could launch a thousand ships, or in this case, sink a few. He was loudly trying to lure her mentioning his yachts, mansions, servants and diamonds. "Sweetheart!" he leaned forward and crooned, "Only last week, I acquired a yacht so big they had to widen the ocean for me." "Really?" she seemed more amused than impressed, ready to burst out in laughter at any moment. "Why, of course, yes," he said as he puffed his chest out to exhibit his pride. Sadly, it only served to highlight the hideous blot of ketchup on his purple necktie. "And in the West End of my mansion," he went on, "I've got on display an array of diamonds as big as your ... err ...," he paused to silence the inappropriate simile he had in mind, "err ... your personality." He abruptly settled for a replacement as grammatically-stupid and out-of-place as he himself was in the café. Next, he burped and as a reflex action to suppress the aftereffects, bragged about his "countless" servants. "How many exactly?" she eyed him with the anxious suspicion that a mouse has for a cat inviting him out of a hole for a piece of cheese. "Well now, if I could count them, they wouldn't be countless, Sweetie! No?" he grinned. Before I could hear more ramblings by our Prince Charles, the waiter appeared; a tiny, miniscule of a fellow with the expression of someone who didn't know which planet he was from. "What'll it be, dear Sir?" he questioned, holding his notepad upside down. "I'll have a cappuccino," I said. "And maybe a brownie." "Brilliant," he chirped. "Would you like your cappuccino with milk or milk?" "Milk, I suppose," I said, after a detailed consideration of the available choices. "Excellent choice, I must say, Sir," he replied. "And how would you like your brownie - sweet, extra-sweet, or mysterious?" "Surprise me," I smiled, "but hey! if it bites when I slice it, I'd return it right away." Meanwhile, in the far corner, a man with an eyepatch on his left eye was pacing like a pirate who had recently discovered his skills in poetry. He suddenly faced towards the customer-side and began reciting loudly. "The ocean of life doth ebb and flow," he almost sang, "Like a latte's foam, so high yet low!" Some of the customers clapped sheepishly, quite trapped between social politeness and the urgent urge to get the heck out of there. Just as I thought of making my escape out of the poetic torture, a rude knock on the glass-window startled the daylight out of me. It was a beggar with a face that could frighten Count-Dracula. He was pointing his finger quite accusingly at me. "You with the green eyes!" he bellowed through the glass. "You owe me a sandwich. Large. Add tea if you wish to go to heavens. Look away if you're ready to rot in hell." I wasn't sure whether to show him the proverbial finger or to buy him his carefully chosen menu. Either way, I shifted to another seat recently emptied by a customer. Finally, after I had enjoyed the last sip of my coffee, it was time to pay. I handed my credit card to the waiter, who slid it into the mouth of a weird-looking machine. Instantly, the damn thing beeped. Then it totally froze for a few seconds and then, screamed out a strange beep again, like a dying robot trying one-last-time to communicate with the mothership. "Uhhh," sighed the waiter. "Uhhh? Now, what does that mean?" I asked in frustration. The poet-cum-manager swooped in and tried reciting an adlib haiku upon the situation. I had to shut his beak before he went on. He then attempted to wrestle the machine. Meanwhile, the scary beggar was still knocking on the glass-window; the professorial debate had upgraded itself to the morality of peas; and, of course, our Prince Charles was still showing his non-existent estate off to his potential fiancé. As I escaped the café, card finally unstuck and dignity in tatters, I decided two things: One, I'd definitely write about this. And two, next time, I'd order hot chocolate and a slice of pizza.
