YOUR CHICKEN ENEMY

Review of HARVEY PEKAR'S CLEVELAND

2012-02-03T05:00:00.000-08:00

Living in the country as I do, I tend to romanticize urban living with its easy access to museums and operas, vast public libraries and arenas, enormous used book stores and public transportation. I constantly find myself looking out my window longing to replace the endless rows of pines with skyscrapers.

Harvey Pekar romanticized the city too, and his latest posthumous release, Harvey Pekar's Cleveland, is a love letter to his hometown that is as much a reflection of Harvey as it is of the history of the Cleveland, Ohio itself. In the postscript of this book, Jimi Izrael writes, “Cleveland's a tough, slightly bowed, achy, gray, crotchety, charitable town with moments of brilliance and unexpected, often ironic laughter. Like Harvey.” As Harvey hammers through the history of his beloved Cleveland in his imitable tight didactic style, he also tells his own story, and it is in this intersection that you find the heart of this book.

Sure, Pekar has told his stories before, but here, in the context of Cleveland's story, they somehow take on new resonance, new meaning, as if without the backdrop of Cleveland itself, there never could have been a Harvey Pekar. From his telling of it, his life seems to have mirrored that of his city, with all its ups and downs.

The book begins with Harvey reminiscing about listening to the 1949 Cleveland Indian's World Series victory through the PA system in his 4th grade classroom. This leads to a roundabout summation of the history of Cleveland, as told through Pekar's clear voice. Much like the research he did into Yiddish literature in his other recent posthumous release, Yiddishkeit: Jewish Vernacular and The New Land http://www.comicsbulletin.com/main/reviews/yiddishkeit-jewish-vernacular-and-new-land, here Pekar's research on Cleveland's history is exhaustive. Joseph Remnant's art is also up to the task of capturing Cleveland as Pekar presents it.

Of Joesph Remnant, in his introduction to Harvey Pekar's Cleveland, Alan Moore (yes, THAT Alan Moore) calls Remnant “perhaps the most sensitively-tuned collaborator on Harvey's already-stellar roster,” and I couldn't agree more. Remnant's art really adds another layer to what Pekar writes in this book. It seems like Remnant understood that as Harvey talked about Cleveland, he was also talking about himself. Remnant is able to somehow suffuse his art with this sensibility in such a subtle way that it blends the ideas of the two narratives together seamlessly.

Towards the end of the book, Harvey starts examining his life currently while he was writing this. There are moments in this part that take on a much greater meaning in the wake of his passing. He writes things like “Maybe I'll keep going for awhile.” as he stares into a mirror and talks about being 70. He talks about his daily routine of watering his wife's garden and drinking milk for breakfast, and then says things like “Who knows what surprises await me?” There is such hope in these asides that, given Harvey's death, they add an unintended poignancy to the whole book.

Say what you will about Pekar's curmudgeonly public persona, his books always carried with them a certain optimism and hope for the future, and that is why they will endure. Izrael also says of Harvey that he was a “painfully ordinary guy.” I think this was never so much on display as it is in Harvey Pekar's Cleveland.

Ultimately this is a story about embracing change, something its author did over and over again. You don't have to necessarily be a Harvey Pekar fan to enjoy Harvey Pekar's Cleveland. Hell, you don't even have to necessarily be interested in Cleveland (although, really, who ISN'T interested in Cleveland?) to find something to love in this book. I think you just have to be human, and that was something that Harvey Pekar was especially good at.

Harvey Pekar's Cleveland is a wonderful, informative, human, and bittersweet book that belongs on your bookshelf. It is scheduled to be released at the end of March.

Conflict With Your Two-Headed Monster

2012-02-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

We've All Been There Once or Twice.

Classic Comics Cavalcade: The Essential Defenders vol. 3

2012-02-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Column Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

As promised (or threatened) last time, Daniel and Jason are back to talk about Steve Gerber's mad genius work on the classic Defenders comic, this time including angry deer, a Soviet super-heroine, inexplicable villain plans, and of course Bozos!

Jason Sacks: So . . . Steve Gerber. Genius or madman? Or both?

Daniel Elkin: I'm thinking, after going through Essential Defenders #3, that he was a mad genius. I've read my share of strange comics, but this collection rates way up there in terms of weirdness.

Sacks: Perfect choice of words, because that's how he referred to himself in '76. The Howard the Duck for President campaign in '76 was sponsored by "Mad Genius Associates"

Elkin: I forgot that Howard the Duck ran for president in '76. Hmmmm . . . after watching the debates tonight, I'm wondering if he would be a viable candidate this year. People might confuse him with Ron Paul, though.

Sacks: Wauuugh!

Elkin: So, where to start? The Headmen? Bambi? Nighthawk's brain in a saucer?

Sacks: I told you yesterday that these comics literally left me on a high after reading them. Nearly every line, every comment and every scene was just so perfectly realized for me. A creator truly at the top of his game throwing all kinds of crazy ass shit at the comic reader, one after another, until you really had no choice but to just float along with the insane rhythm of the work.

Elkin: As I was reading through this collection, I had to keep stopping and smacking my head. I kept saying to my son, "Read this, you have to read this." He started to get a little freaked out by the 7th or 8th time.

Sacks: LOL seriously?

Elkin: This was one wild ride of a comic reading experience, Sacks. Thanks so much for pointing me in this direction.

Sacks: Great as the Sons of the Serpent and Guardians of the Galaxy stories were, this is a whole different level of amazing.

Elkin: Absolutely. I'm still trying to figure out when the Hulk sat down to watch Bambi???? The movie, I mean. How else would he know about it?

Sacks: "Hunters killed Bambi's mom"!

Elkin: I know, right!

Sacks: One of the scariest scenes ever with the Hulk. He actually attacks a hunter, skips him across the water like a rock, and breaks the poor guy's neck!

Elkin: Hulk would have made quite the PETA organizer. I kept trying to imagine Buscema's face as he was drawing these issues. When Bambi is trying to open the door, or when he's getting all upset or shooting beams out of his eyes. Can you imagine what he was thinking as he was drawing this stuff?

Sacks: Sal Buscema is the one that really makes these comics so subversive. His style is so "classic '70s Marvel" that it kind of masks everything in a veneer of boring calm, but he's continually drawing this crazy and subversive stuff!

Elkin: Like the Bozo Cheerleaders? Or the epic battle between Dr. Strange; Nebulon, The Celestial Man; and Gerald Ford? Or Jack Norriss, Secret Agent? Or Chondu's new body as designed by Ray Harryhausen? This is incredible stuff!

Sacks: Riot in a women's prison! The homicidal deer! The beautiful alien creature who looks like a nebbish and beats the Hulk! The plan to solve the population explosion in India by shrinking everyone! It just goes on and on and on.

Elkin: Don't forget the Elf with the Gun!

Sacks: And yet, to me, this whole run never loses its insane kinetic thrust and power. It all basically hangs together with just a few odd loose ends.

Elkin: One scene that really kinda stood out for me is when Val's horse, Aragorn, is injured on the roof and the owner of the building wants to shoot him because the ceiling is caving in and he doesn't want to pay for the repairs. What does he think is going to happen after he shoots the horse? It will suddenly become lighter? That was one weird bit of business and such a throwaway kind of thing. But it really stuck with me for some reason. Also, the image of Hulk in the Bozo mask. I want a poster of that. A huge poster. To put in my classroom.

Sacks: Holy crap, I loved that!

Elkin: Just to remind the students that "You're all Bozos!"

Sacks: Perfect. OK, seriously, where do we start?

Elkin: Let's start with The Headmen. And Ruby Thursday.

Sacks: And Headwoman. I know you loved their first appearance in Essential Defenders 2.

Elkin: What the hell was up with Ruby Thursday? Please explain to me how that character worked (I loved her, by the way--with a deep and abiding love that I save for women with computerized organic balls on their heads) Where did she come from, and did she ever make an appearance again anywhere?

Sacks: No, it makes no sense, does it? Especially later when she actually runs for President. Umm, wtf?

Elkin: Hmmmm . . . in this political climate, she might be mistaken for Michele Bachmann.

Sacks: This was her first appearance, in Defenders 32-33. She also murders fellow Gerber creation Omega the Unknown at the end of his run.

Elkin: Thanks for spoiling that for me . . .

Sacks: LOL I actually ran that page in a Top 10 not too long ago. C'mon, I expect you to read every single word I write for the site!

I'm very tempted to psychoanalyze Gerber based on Ruby.

Elkin: How so?

Sacks: I dunno . . . she's just so bizarre in every way that I wonder if she comes from a nightmare or some deep concern or stress. She's a woman with a beautiful body and a head of a jewel, who can transform her head into anything she wants and kill people. She's seductive and repulsive and terrifying all at the same time.

Elkin: Yes she is. What do you think this says about Gerber, then? Do you think he had some underlying issues with women? Or his mother? Or his feminine side?

Sacks: Of course, she may just be a pun based on that Rolling Stones song that Gerber decided to use in a comic. I really don't know what he thought, because juxtaposed with Ruby is Valkyrie, who becomes much more realized and emotionally stronger as these issues go along. She really becomes herself, and in the prison scenes almost seems to come to terms with how she needs to live in her modern times.

Elkin: And don't forget the portrayal of The Red Guardian. She is also a strong, intelligent, accomplished female character. Speaking of her, not to get off topic too much, but there seemed to me that Gerber had some pro-communist leanings based on how he presented her.

Sacks: Typical '70s Liberal in some ways. Huh, he treats President Ford as an idiot but obviously loved the Red Guardian.

Elkin: Then again, Gerber really didn't seem to think much of Clea.

Wait... Ford wasn't an idiot?

Sacks: You know, come to think of it, there's plenty of scenes that Gerber wrote that pass the Bechdel Test. I think Ruby is just an oddball character that represents Gerber's strange sense of adventure and heroism.

Elkin: I just had to look up what the Bechdel test was.

Sacks: Our very own Kyrax is the one who explained it to me.

Elkin: I think it is probably something all men should know about.

Sacks: It really opened my eyes when we discussed it.

This time when I read these stories, for like the 5th or 6th time since I bought them off the newsstands, I was struck by how satirical the whole series is. Gerber is really throwing darts at the tropes of the '70s. And in that way, the ridiculous Headmen and bizarre Ruby Thursday are just examples of that.

Elkin: Go on . . . Are you telling me that I should see Nagan, Chondu, Jerry Morgan, and Ruby Thursday as actual threats? You know, now that I think about it, I'm still not sure I understand exactly what they wanted--sure, world domination in the abstract--but why? Was it because it was "messy" and "unordered"?

By the way, Footloose passes the Bechdel Test.

Sacks: As Nagan says, "The Dynamic Defenders reduced to unwilling guinea pigs in the world's most advanced psychological laboratory."

Elkin: Yeah. What the hell does that even mean?

Sacks: It's all about exerting power over free will. They're all about the control.

Elkin: To what end, though?

Sacks: To study mankind?

Elkin: I see you are as lost as I am . . .

Sacks: "How could they suspect we'll be recording their every action for the rest of their lives--analyzing their behavior and the structure of the society which must eventually evolve in our "ant farm here?" says Ruby.

Elkin: Hmmmm . . . Kung Fu Panda does NOT pass the Bechdel test.

Sacks: LOL!

Elkin: It does not seem that The Headmen had an actual goal in mind other than research. Gerber seemed to have this whole thing about free will versus control.

Sacks: Twice in these issues the story plays host to an actual metaphysical debate about free will versus control. It's strikingly odd and interesting. In Defenders #38 when Strange, Cage and Red Guardian find themselves trapped in an odd mystic dimension and again in the Annual when the Headmen kidnap them.

Elkin: I know. He uses The Red Guardian to talk about the benefits of a socialist state, while lamenting the restrictions to freedoms inherit in the Soviet system. It's a didactic power punch when he got on that trip.

Sacks: You think Gerber's espousing his views or just characterizing Tanya as being really committed to her beliefs?

Elkin: What? Hot Tub Time Machine failed the Bechdel Test?

Sacks: NO WAY.

Elkin: Gerber does it with such passion that I was convinced he honestly felt what he was saying was true. It is probably all part of that 70's liberal "Dune People's Commune" thing you mentioned before.

He does have a penchant for liberal issues. Prisoners' rights . . . Brains in a saucer . . . Elves with guns . . .

Sacks: That's one of my pet Liberal causes.

Elkin: Which one?

Sacks: I think we should all be able to have our brains in a saucer if we want to!

Elkin: I agree. Especially if it can still narrate our backstories like Kyle Richmond's did. We should form a Super PAC.

Who do you think Gerber sympathized with the most out of all the Defenders?

Sacks: Hmm, good question.

Elkin: I want to say it is Nighthawk. But, now that I think about it, maybe Jack Norriss was his mouthpiece.

Sacks: There's not a real Gerber analogue in these stories like there is in so many other Gerber stories where there are literal Gerber analogues - Paul Same in Howard the Duck, Richard Rory in Man-Thing, in some ways James-Michel Starling in Omega.

I almost think he empathized the most with Valkyrie.

Elkin: Why do you say that?

Sacks: To me she comes across as the most realized character and the one that—oddly-seems to go both the longest and the shortest in her journey. She seems to come to terms with all of who she is in these stories. She gains more emotional depth, more panache and power, a real sense of humor and gratitude for her friends. She becomes much more multi-dimensional than she was in the previous set of issues.

Elkin: True--but couldn't you make the same case for Nighthawk? He goes from rich spoiled brat, to super villain, to rich spoiled super hero, to having a real existential crisis, to discovering empathy, to becoming a leader.

Sacks: Yeah, true. He goes through a literally metaphysical crisis and does come out the other side.

Elkin: Brain in a saucer.

Sacks: My pet Liberal cause.

Elkin: That saucer gets seriously sloshed around during the course of its journey back to Nighthawk's head.

Sacks: God, I loved so many of those scenes. The angry deer is one of my favorite images ever.

Elkin: Talk about an existential crisis, by the way. It's Kyle Richmond, acting as Nighthawk, with Chondu's brain in his skull, but Jack Norriss' spirit in command? That's all fucked up.

That is one angry deer. Buscema must have shat himself after drawing that.

Sacks: Truly one of the greatest existential crises one can ever have - and then this whole crazy amalgam of spirits ends up on stage with Nebulon for his "BOZOS" show that you loved so much.

Elkin: We're all Bozos.

Sacks: Well, we are!

Elkin: And it's time we admit it.

Sacks: But that journey that Kyle goes through--and btw, those scenes of young Kyle in the playground in his Nighhawk costume seriously fucked up young Jason--is one of the strangest and most terrifying any hero could ever go through. I mean, they stole his goddamn brain! And though we've seen that trope on a million sci-fi comics and TV shows from the Avengers TV show to the Avengers comic, somehow it just seems more real and intense here.

Elkin: I love the way Gerber has Kyle's brain narrating that story in such a surrealistic way. It's almost as if Salvador Dali and Sal Buscema melded minds for a few pages. The whole thing was raw and powerful and wonderful and weird.

What? Frost/Nixon didn't pass the Bechdel Test either.

Sacks: Don't forget the amazing inking by Jim Mooney. Mooney's inking in the first half of these stories has this kind of raw dark intensity that Klaus Janson's issues don't have.

Mooney's use of blacks is gorgeous, especially in that sequence.

Elkin: I agree. I love that these Essential volumes are available. I do wish they were in color, though.

Sacks: This stuff will be in a Masterwork soon enough.

Wow, umm, we've been chatting for an hour and I don't think we did more than scratch the surface of these issues.

Elkin: Ummm . . . We haven't talked about Plantman, The Eel and The Porcupine, or Shazanna even. Or the guy whose house the Hulk keeps wrecking. There's so much going on in these issues. It's amazing.

Sacks: Seriously, I think there's a Master's thesis in these comics.

Elkin: Hmmm . . . Will Comics Bulletin foot the bill if I go attempt this? I've always wanted to quit my job and go back to school. Why not Gerber school?

Sacks: I'm right there with you.

Elkin: We should start our own program at Gerber U.

Sacks: Every time I read these comics I'm overwhelmed by their density. Even the embrace of the clichés that Gerber does in these books has its edge, its barb. There really is this mad genius energy at work in these 12 issues, producing something so complex, quirky and idiosyncratic that it could only come from that man in that time.

Elkin: You are preaching to the choir here, Sacks. I'm a full on Gerber Baby now. So we've done Destroyer Duck and his run on the Defenders. Where do we go next?

Sacks: You want to stay with Gerber or would you like to pick a book for our next chat?

Elkin: Don't de-Gerber on me now. I want more!

Sacks: Hmm, ok, if you loved this book we should go to his Man-Thing.

Elkin: Sweet. I love Man-Thing.

Sacks: Most unfortunately named comic ever. Essential Man-Thing vol. 1?

Elkin: Are you kidding me -- what else would you name it? Whatever knows fear burns at the touch of Sam Smithers?

Sacks: With Jennifer Kale and F.A. Schist and poor Wundarr and all those other schlubs and losers.

Elkin: Will it be as weirdly wonderful as his run on the Defenders?

Sacks: We can do a full chat just on the original Fool-Killer.

Elkin: Ack! Don't mention Fool-Killer. I'm still having flashback nightmare twitches.

Sacks: That's the scariest comic Gerber ever wrote. Shall we reconvene in a few weeks to talk about The Most Startling Slime Creature of All?

Elkin: Man-Thing--it's not a euphemism for your Johnson. I'm ready.

Sacks: Cool. I'm gonna go off and read some Steve Ditko now. Because Gerber's not strange enough of an creator, I have to go to an even stranger creator.

Elkin: And I've got my latest random pull for my Cheap Thrills column. This one seems so so much better than last week's.

Oh, and Sex and the City -- totally passed the Bechdel Test.

Sacks: LOL I'm sure

Elkin: Talk to you later. And make mine Gerber!

Sacks: Later Daniel!

Elkin: Thanks Jason. That was a lot of fun. I think we covered some great ground on this one. Seriously, Man-Thing! I love Man-Thing. I can't wait to see how Gerber wraps his brain around that one.

Cheap Thrills - SYLVIA FAUST #1

2012-01-31T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

This Column Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

January 18, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
SYLVIA FAUST #1
Published by: Image Comics
Written by: Jason Henderson
Art by: Greg Scott
Colors: Leslie Ann Barkley
Letters: Ed Dukeshire

THAT IS THE CHERRY ON THE CAKE OF MY DAY.

Here's a quick rundown of some of the events that occurred in August of 2004:

The Summer Olympics were in Athens, Greece.
Governor James McGreevy of New Jersey announced he is “a gay American” and resigned.
Thieves with guns stole Munch's The Scream from the Munch Museum in Norway.
From a bridge in Chicago, the Tour Bus for the Dave Matthews Band dumped approximately 800 pounds of human feces onto a tourist boat.
Insane Clown Posse released Hell's Pit
Leviathan is released by Mastodon
Johnny Bravo is canceled
Video Game company Acclaim declared bankruptcy
Alien vs. Predator opened in theaters.
Rick James, Elmer Bernstein, Fay Wray, and Julia Child all died.

Normally I can take all these disparate events and get a general feel for the zeitgeist of the moment. This time, though, August 2004 alludes me. I can't see the pattern. I can't put the pieces together.

But I think I know why.

In August of 2004, Image Comics released issue #1 of Sylvia Faust and it pulled everything all together within itself and left us wanting more.

Seriously.

Just take a look at this first page:

Now that's not at all what I was expecting given the cover of this comic. Greg Scott's art is the first thing you notice on this page, right? His loose line work has a casualness to it that really appeals to me. There's a softness there that is engaging and welcoming. Scott also did the cover of this issue which clearly demonstrates that he has “comic book chops,” so I know that the interior style is a choice, not an inevitability. This makes me like it even more.

The next thing you have to notice is Leslie Ann Barkley's colors. Once again, there is that softness to her palatte and a wash to her technique. And then there, in that last panel, BOOM, check out those reds and yellows. I dig what's visually happening in this comic.

And what is happening in this comic? This first page has a woman in a cab throwing her drink out the window which splashes onto a woman riding a motorcycle. OK. That's your set-up.

Turns out we're in New York City. The drink tosser is a lawyer and a bitch. The tossee is just trying to solicit an apology. The tosser refuses to listen. The tossee then does this.

And we go someplace warm and weird all of a sudden. I love the Kabuki Jack-in-the-Box. It says “Booga Booga Booga!” That's what I would say if I was a giant Kabuki Jack-in-the-Box! Wouldn't you?

I think I am falling in love with this comic. If I start to gush a little, I hope you understand.

So our spell-caster here is our titular hero, the aptly named “Sylvia Faust”.

On the next page Sylvia is reprimanded by Annie, her mentor who is totally rocking that whole 1972 Gloria Steinem look while she chain smokes and tells Sylvia that casting spells on public streets is a no-no. She tells Sylvia that she needs to be more inconspicuous – “as in the Latin – 'Don't Conspicuate.'”

Annie even says things like, “Oh, land o Goshens, no.”

Through this interaction, they reveal that they haven't been in NYC very long and that Sylvia needs to learn to protect herself. What she needs to protect herself from is not made clear at this point.

Next, we meet this guy:

Oh, this guy.

This guy.

This guy with the chin whiskers is named Tim and he owns the Apocalypse Drafthouse and Cinema in Greenwich Village. The Apocalypse is having a film festival featuring the Crying Fist Kung-Fu classics of some guy named Lance Marks. Lance Marks is supposed to be making an appearance at this film festival. The festival is starting in an hour. Lance Marks is nowhere to be found.

Tim is asking all his employees if they've seen Lance Marks. Nobody seems to know that Lance Marks was even supposed to be there. While this certainly could be viewed as an indication of Tim's lack of management skills, or at least a breakdown in company communication, I just think it's funny. Then again I'm falling in love, and because of this I am more than willing to see little flaws as endearing.

Those chin whiskers – they're just so cute.

Then the comic jumps from the Apocalypse over to Sylvia and Annie's apartment.

Barkley's color work once again stands out. The reds, greens, and yellows all leap from the page in a warm primary color embrace that lingers and soothes. I want to nestle my face in its hair and dream of becoming a better man.

Sylvia and Annie's apartment has a guardian. Sort of. It's this thing.

And it's so damn cute. It's name is Stephy and it really loves Sylvia.

Sylvia and Annie have another discussion about the importance of Sylvia blending in. Annie is very firm in her conviction that Sylvia get a job. Sylvia points out the fact that with her magic, she could just “make money,” but Annie tells her she would just get caught and that she really doesn't want to “see what you'd (Sylvia) do to these people's criminal justice system.” I, for one, totally disagree with Annie here, especially given the Kabuki Jack-in-the-Box Sylvia previously manifested. But then again, I'm letting my emotions get away with me...

Sylvia next gets a job at American Telenova Corporation, a telemarketing company that doesn't see what it does as sales, but as “opportunity Chauffeuring!”

Sylvia starts chauffeuring opportunities, but is resoundingly rejected time and time again. Her frustration leads to this:

Sylvia could tell me what to do also.

This magical marketing backfires on Sylvia, though, as her customers start calling back threatening to sue. Although another significant portion of them want Sylvia “to tell them more things to do.”

This gets Sylvia fired.

I understand that Henderson makes this choice in his writing to move the plot along and keep the tone of the book consistent, but I suspect that were this actually the case, the good people at American Telenova Corporation would be more interested in figuring out how to use this situation to further line their pockets. Then again, I tend to lean towards cynicism when it comes to Capitalism. Sylvia Faust, on the other hand, does not.

And that's cute too.

Cute as a bug.

Oh, so cute.

Next, the comic jumps back to the adventures of Tim the movie theater manager.

He finally locates Lance Marks, the guest of honor for the Kung-Fu movie fest he is putting on.

Lance Marks has been in the theater for a couple of hours, actually. He has been there for a couple of hours drinking steadily with a couple of the employees. Tim sees this as a bit of a problem:

The comic then goes sideways. Literally. The layout changes from vertical to horizontal for two pages and the page background goes from the previous white to a full on black.

The action in these two pages is occurring “In the place of Sylvia Fuast's birth. A distant, distant place.” Here, an older bearded gentleman in a sweet fur-lined cloak is having a discussion with some Lovecraftian “Old One” about how he can recover power and “unite the Barony with the Throne of the Queen.”

The plan seems to revolve around marrying the older bearded gentleman's bow-tie wearing son to Sylvia. It seems as though this match was not something that Sylvia was interested in, and she has fled this land to places unknown. The Lovecraftian “Old One” has figured out where Sylvia has gone, though. The older bearded gentleman tells the bow-tie wearing son that he is to “prepare a retainer” and go get her.

Thus a plot is born.

And it's cute too.

For it's information, the Lovecraftian “Old One” gets a Scooby Snack in the form of Philip, the Footman.

It says, “Grrrblegrrblegrrble” as it eats the souls of innocents. How could you not love how cute that is?

Oh Sylvia Faust #1, even your moments of epic horror ar just darling. Everything you do is simply dreamy. Everything you do is quite delicious. Why can't I be you?

The comic then goes back to the Apocalypse Drafthouse where Tim is still trying to figure out what to do with his drunken star. Luckily for Tim, Sylvia shows up at this exact moment looking for a job. Tim tells her that the position is already filled and “right now I got a guest who's too drunk to speak.”

Sylvia tells Tim that she can sober Lance up, but she will only do so if she can have a job. This is certainly an interesting tactic to take during a job interview, one that I might consider the next time I have one. This might also look really good on a resume – under skills, list: “Can Sober Your Ass Up.”

Hmmm.... that's cute.

Anyway, Sylvia being Sylvia, she does a little hoo-doo and we get this:

Oh yea – Crying Fist is in the HOUSE!

CRYING FIST! CRYING FIST! CRYING FIST!

So Sylvia gets the job at the Apocalypse Drafthouse and the comic ends. I get the sense that there is going to be some sweet snuggly repartee and romance between her and Tim in the coming issues. Then the Bow-tie son will show up and complicate things. Sylvia will continue to cast some awesome spells (like manifesting a triple sparkly rainbow unicorn of doom or something), and everything and everything and everything will be cute and adorable and wonderful and the best thing ever. EVER!

After issue two, I'm sure I'll want to introduce this comic to my parents. Maybe after issue three we'll talk about moving in together. After issue four I'll find myself lingering in front of jewelry store windows eying rings I can't possibly afford. After issue five.... Oh....

With these long range romantic plans dancing in my head, I set upon myself the task of trying to track down every issue I could find of Sylvia Faust.

To my initial horror, I found out that Sylvia Faust was only planned to be a four-issue mini-series through Image. To further rip my heart out, though, only two issues came out! Nobody on the internet seems to know what happened to the series. It's like the last two issues were kidnapped by some mysterious malevolent but maladroit mustachioed menace and taken to some terrible titanic tower in an alternate alien dimension. Sylvia Faust is in peril! A hero must be summoned to take on the quest of saving it and journey through terrible trials and tribulations! Who will rise to the occasion?

I know just the guy.

Who's got two thumbs and a comic-crush on Sylvia Faust?

This guy.

And to think it all started in a Comic Shop. Two strangers meet in a long box. One, a comic rudely canceled mid-series, while the other is still stinging from his experience with Whisper #4. Over fifty cents, these two discover what it means to be alive again and begin a whirlwind romance and adventure that will captivate your heart...

See you next week.

Review of ALPHA GIRL #1

2012-01-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Review Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin.

I really don't know what to make of Alpha Girl #1. I think that's because it doesn't seem to know what to make of itself either. Ostensibly it's another “tough girl survivor of the Zombie Apocalypse” tale, and the background of the lead character in this book is certainly harsh enough to make you believe that, were there to be a Zombie Apocalypse, she would be one of the survivors. But it's also got this over-the-top forced “wackiness” aspect to it that is trying really, really hard to make you laugh – too hard, in fact. For me, the juxtaposition of the gritty and the goofy in this comic only detracts one from the other because neither of these aspects is strong enough to stand on its own.

The book is set in 1984, when a third rate cosmetics company creates a product that turns women into zombies. It's up to Judith, our 17-year-old hero, to … I don't know … save the world or something? This is not really made clear in this first issue. A matter of fact, other than smoking cigarettes while narrating the story of the cosmetic company's zombie byproducts and her own backstory, Alpha Girl doesn't really do much of anything in this first issue.

I guess the story is building up to something. Image has been pimping the book as the “action-packed gore fest that you've been waiting for!” I don't really see that. The whole issue sort of struck me as a Chew knock-off, where Chew is like The Replacements and Alpha Girl is like Chris Mars' solo career. It's just not the same. It's trying real hard to capture the sound of success, but in doing so, only shows it can barely keep a beat.

There is certainly room for this story to grow. It sets up some questions that have some interesting answers the comic could pursue, such as why only women get turned into zombies, why does Judith not get turned into a zombie, and, if the Zombie Apocalypse occurs in 1984, how are we reading about it in 2012?

It's not that I hated Alpha Girl #1 – it just really didn't do anything for me. If I want to read this type of book, I'd much rather be reading Chew or Skullkickers, which are both far more successful than Alpha Girl #1 is in combining action and humor. Still, Image seems to be behind this title and they've been doing pretty well lately, so maybe they know more than I.

All in all, I still don't really know what to make of Alpha Girl #1. That's something, isn't it?

We Are The Music Makers (part 4) - Laurent

2012-01-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

I Need Better Shoes.

2012-01-28T05:00:00.000-08:00

Review of ARCHEOLOGISTS OF SHADOWS

2012-01-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Review Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

Archeologists of Shadows is beautiful to behold. The art in this “science fiction/fantasy/steampunk mash-up” is absolutely breathtaking. Artist Patricio Clarey has created fully realized worlds of such intricacy and depth that I found myself lingering over almost every page, taking in each and every little detail and nuance.

Argentinian born Clarey's art is certainly reminiscent of the work of Dave McKean or Menton Mathews III, but it has a life all its own. The publishers, Septagon Studios, describe it as a “unique style that combines drawing, sculpture, photography, photo manipulation and digital painting to create art that has a 3D quality.” Clarey's layouts, color palette, perspective, and pacing are innovative, elegant, and stunning. His art is a perfect match for the story the book undertakes.

Septagon Studios has provided a short synopsis of the plot:

Archeologists of Shadows is set in a world where every living thing is becoming mechanical. Some think that the phenomenon is the will of the gods, and so the Authorities punish those who resist the transformation, although all wonder about the real reason for the changes.

Baltimo and Alix, who’ve lived their entire lives within the No-Destination Train, get off the train to avoid the Authorities, and to search for the Archeologists of Shadows, an underground group of the Resistance who fight to learn what the real will of the gods might be… but Alix and Baltimo will learn much more than even the Archeologists might have expected.

It's an interesting idea and is obviously set-up to follow the classic Hero's Journey/Monomyth in its organization. As well, the concept of the dominance of technology over the organic has an eerie resonance somehow to our world today.

While the storytelling moves along at a pretty good clip, Lara Fuentes' writing stumbles a bit, especially when paired with the brilliance of Clarey's art. As Fuentes is from Spain, I assume that English is not her first language, and this may account for some of the stiltedness that I found in her writing. She seems to be unsure as how to let her characters develop, and at times her dialogue seems either forced, distracting, or unnecessary. There is a sort of dull singularity to her voice in the book, which is a shame given the breadth of the characters with which she has to work.

But it really is the art that distinguishes Archeologists of Shadows. At the end of the digital copy I read, there are around 40 pages of Cleary's sketches, layouts, photographs, and sculptures which are almost as interesting to go through as the book itself. Septegon Studios promises that Book Two of this proposed six book series will be coming out soon. There was a preview of it in the copy I got and, from what I saw, Cleary's art gets even better.

I look forward to seeing where Cleary goes next, both with this book and his career. After reading Archeologists of Shadows, I think you will be too.

Trailer for the Comic:

We Are The Music Makers (part 3)

2012-01-26T05:00:00.000-08:00

We Are The Music Makers (part 2)

2012-01-25T05:00:00.000-08:00

We Are The Music Makers.

2012-01-24T05:00:00.000-08:00

Soviet Bears Rock and Roll Opus.

2012-01-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

It only takes a minute for the bears to appear.

Review of THE WIDOWMAKER

2012-01-22T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Review Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

The Widowmaker is a black and white gangster and horror comic. At the same time it is actually neither, yet it functions as both.

Did I get your attention?

The Widowmaker sure got mine.

According to its creator, Frank Candiloro, this comic is about Don Taranturco, a mob boss in the 1930's, who, after burning down a local cafe, has an ancient curse put upon him. This curse begins his horrible metamorphosis.

And that is what this comic IS about, and yet it's not about that at all.

The most striking thing about The Widowmaker is Candiloro's art. It's got that whole German Expressionism, wood-block print, indy wonk vibe that is both off-putting and engaging at the same time. It is the perfect style for what Candiloro is up to in this book and sets the tone perfectly. His pacing is quick and moves the story along in a real unsettling way.

This is weird story and it needs to be told in a weird way. But it's not exactly a weird story either. It actually is something vaguely profound. Or maybe it's not. There's an unexpected twist at the end which transforms this book from one thing to another in a single page. It's quite a deft maneuver.

The comic ends with a quote from the novelist Isak Dinesen, “I don't believe in evil, I believe only in horror. In nature there is no evil, only an abundance of horror, the plagues and the blights and the ants and the maggots.” I don't think I'm giving anything away when I say this is the perfect quote for the this book. Frank Candiloro has crafted himself a pretty interesting piece of business here.

It's a great example of another one of the possibilities of comics.

Review of BLACK FIRE

2012-01-21T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Review Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

Come on, geeks. You know that you bandy about the term “Lovecraftian” just a little too much lately. It's almost as bad as when you sit in a Starbucks and listen to the hipsters talk about how “Kafkaesque” things are. It's getting to the point where the term has begun to lose its meaning. And that's a shame, because it's an evocative adjective that should carry with it some real power. I mean we're talking enormous inter-dimensional primeval horror here.

But I don't have another adjective I can use to describe Black Fire.

Black Fire is an Original Graphic Novel by Hernan Rodriguz and published by Archaia.. It is full of Lovecraftian horror.

This is a story set during the French retreat from Russia during the Napoleonic War. It is about starvation and frostbite. It is about an abandoned snowbound village. It is about evil. It is about a Russian god of death, fire, and darkness. It is about creating a mood of dread, fear, and paranoia (if paranoia is, in fact, a mood). It is about the nightmare that occurs with the juxtaposition of human failures and the malevolent forces of the universe.

It is a great story.

Hernan Rodriguez has cobbled together an epic dark fantasy of Lovecraftian proportions (once again, what other adjective can I use). His expressionist style artwork marries muted colors with blasts of reds and oranges tightly contained in thick black ink, all of which propels the mood deeper and deeper into the horror that the plot unravels. His linework is perfect for the tone of this story, and he is most definitely an artist to keep an eye on in the future.

My only problem with Black Fire was the fact that, as I was reading this grand tale, I kept having to back peddle to figure out who was who. And this was frustrating. Many of the characters look a little too much like each other, especially the ones with red beards, and I was having to rely too much on the exposition to connect the individual with their actions and motivations. This ended up having a watering down effect on the action, slowing down some of the more important scenes in the book.

This is Rodriguez's failure as a sequential artist, but certainly one that he can overcome. Were it not for this unfortunately significant distraction, I would have given Black Fire a much higher rating.

Still, if you are a fan of dark supernatural horror comics (notice I didn't Lovecraftian this time), this is probably a book you want to look at.

Cheap Thrills - WHISPER #4

2012-01-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

January 11, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
WHISPER #4
Published by: First Comics
Written by: Steven Grant
Art by: Norm Breyfogle

OOOOOH BOY.

So, where the hell where you in December of 1986? All kinds of crazy, nasty crap was flying around then.

Remember what happened at Howard Beach? That was in December, 1986. Then there was that 5.7 earthquake that destroyed Strajica in Bulgaria! Desi Arnaz died! The Disney Channel started broadcasting 24 hours a day! We all were watching The Cosby Show! Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve featured appearances by Barry Manilow and the Miami Sound Machine! NBC canceled Search for Tomorrow! The Way It Is by Bruce Hornsby and the Range was the number 1 single!

Fuck! The Golden Child was one of the top grossing films in December, 1986!

I swear, if you had buried December of 1986 in a lead-lined grave, it still would have figured out a way to crawl its way out to feed on your brains.

I'm sorry, but I can think of no shit-storm more perfect for the publication of Whisper #4 from First Comics.

On pretty much a weekly basis, I've been doing this column in one form or another for nearly a year now, and in that time I have come across some god-awful comics. Still, I do believe that none of them – NONE OF THEM – fucked with my brain as much as Whisper #4 by Steven Grant and Norm Breyfogle has. The irony of this whole thing is that my very first iteration of this column dealt with Prime #3 from Malibu Comics. (now archived here). The artist on that? Norm Breyfogle. Now a year later? A comic with art by Norm Breyfogle.

Don't get me wrong, I think Norm Breyfogle is a talented artist and a real nice guy, but I think he is trying to kill me.

Whisper #4 opens with this:

I like this layout. It's got sort of that Alfred Hitchcock movie poster feel to it, although the eyes in the upper left hand corner are kinda freaky.

While the opening page is OK from an artistic point of view, there is an early indication of the kind of ride you're in for with this comic. It appears rather prominently in the yellow text box.

“persons are hung along a line from birth to death Some fell off at 5 etc some at 17 others 40, like No matter, they are bombers (carrying forces) of the time”

This quote is attributed to Charles Olsen. The Charles Olsen I know was an alcoholic American poet who wrote dense postmodernist poetry and described himself as "an archeologist of morning." Starting a comic book with a random quote from a postmodernist poet and providing no context whatsoever for this choice is an indication that the writer, Steven Grant, was either chasing some serious nightmares or carefully plotting out some seriously sadistic mind-fuckery.

Either way, I assure you, this comic is going to hurt.

So we go from that to this:

After reading the third panel here I spent the next 10 minutes or so pacing from my desk to the kitchen and back again endlessly repeating “Cops is cops. You Cops?” My dog started getting nervous.

So there are these two guys, I'll call them Blondie and Orange Hair, and they want to get into the Hatsumi Place. They bribe Freddie the Doorman to let him inside. Hatsumi is dead. He had a niece or something. The cops had gotten a call that the niece was dead in the apartment. Freddie says nobody has been in there for months.

Upon entering the apartment, Orange Hair says this:

First off, a quick pet peeve. You use an adverb to modify a verb, you do not use an adjective. Orange Hair SHOULD have said, “Dust settles so QUICKLY in this town.” If only bad grammar was my only problem with this comic. If only....

Second, is he actually saying that it's hard to tell how much time has really gone by since anyone has been in the apartment because of the unique rapid dust settling properties of whatever the fuck town they are in?

It only gets worse from here.

They wander through the rest of the apartment. They see a broken window and a blood stain. They wonder aloud in front of Freddie whether or not some guy named Barrow killed her (whoever she is) and, if so, where is the body?

This takes us to this lovely scene:

Underpants Guy here is apparently named Eckart. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on. If he doesn't know what the fuck is going on, how the hell am I supposed to know what the fuck is going on?

I don't.

I don't know WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!

They suspect Barrow is lying, but Eckart thinks Millinder is behind this, so they need to go talk to Lesa Lorenson and her boyfriend and I HAVE NO IDEA WHO ANY OF THESE PEOPLE ARE!

Then this blonde lady comes out of the bedroom and this happens:

Who is this woman? Why is he beating her? Who is her father? Why does she have to wear a mask?

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

I've said it before in this column: WE ARE SENSE MAKING BEINGS and, as such, when we are unable to make sense of what we are experiencing, we often get rather agitated. When I sit down to read a comic, I am doing so to be either entertained or intellectually stimulated. I did not sign up for agitation. This is not an emotion that a creator wants to arouse in their audience unless.... unless.... unless they are carefully plotting out some seriously sadistic mind-fuckery.

Then this happens:

Oh. My. GOD!

Absolutely.

The legendary American writer Jack Kerouac once wrote: “I don't know. I don't care. And it doesn't make any difference.” I'm feeling you now, Jack Kerouac.

This whole comic then starts to unravel (like my sanity) in a blur.

Blondie goes and talks to a Doctor.

Orange Hair talks to a hand model named Lesa Lorenson.

She does this:

Underpants Guy gets a phone call from someone singing Come On, Get Happy.

Not this one:

This one:

This freaks out Underpants Guy. He runs out his bedroom door. Someone punches him in the head. Underpants Guy does some judo stuff and lands a right foot in some mustached guy's groin, which leads to:

What. The. Fuck?

So the mustached guy is Barrow. Underpants Guy and Barrow then share a beer while talking about the fact that Barrow killed someone, but they can't find the body. They are not sure if Barrow actually killed this person or not.

The phone rings.

Come On, Get Happy.

They freak.

The song is a recording. The woman in the mask from the rooftop before (maybe?) is playing it to fuck with those guys. She then goes into a Key Making shop and this happens:

At least this guy admits to his grammar issues.

He's making a fake ID for the lady in the mask and never once asks her why she is wearing a mask. At this point, though, I don't care. Oh, and blood seems to be dripping from my ears. I just keep rolling.

More stuff happens.

Then this happens:

I think this is the same blonde woman who was getting knocked around by Underpants Guy earlier, but I am not sure. Why she has these issues with her step-mother is beyond me – I assume we are to assume that she's a bitch and that's enough of a reason for her to act in this manner.

“I don't know. I don't care. And it doesn't make any difference.”

Barrow shows up and the blonde lady wants him to kill Underpants Guy. Then they have sex on a drafting table.

Barrow shows up and shoots Eddie the Doorman (remember him from the second page).

Then there's this other blonde guy and the hand model talking about something.

This happens:

You see those eyes at the bottom of the page there? Three pages before this, there was a black panel in this space. The next two pages feature these eyes. Then there is the page above. Then, the eyes are in that bottom panel FOR THE NEXT SIX PAGES. I don't know whose eyes they are supposed to be. It's fucking creepy. Who does this?

You know who does this? Someone carefully plotting out some seriously sadistic mind-fuckery, that's who.

Barrow and Underpants Guy talk about something that, at this point, is tantamount to the sound the teacher makes in all those CBS Charlie Brown Holiday Specials.

Somebody has a switch-blade.

Then the lady in the mask is on the roof playing her tape recording of Come On Get Happy into the phone. Somehow Barrow knows she is up there because shit like that happens in this comic. He hits her with the butt of a rifle which he then throws away so he can pull out his pistol because shit like that happens in this comic as well.

Then this happens:

Somebody has stabbed Barrow in the back. It makes the bottom panel eyes very angry looking.

Fuuuuuuuuuck!

The last page does this:

“Oooooh Boy” is right.

The eyes are closed.

You know what is the scariest thing on this whole page, though? The little yellow box on the bottom says, “To Be Continued.”

When I finished reading Whisper #4, I threw it on the ground and commanded my dog to drop a deuce on it. He looked up at me with a sort of “my deuce is too good for that” look on his face. Even my dog thought his shit was better than this book.

And I paid fifty cents for this.

I drove to my local comics shop and willingly gave them my money in order to get something that basically curb-stomped my sensibilities. And they didn't warn me. I thought they liked me. Why would they do that? Maybe they didn't know? Maybe they thought I could handle it? Maybe they were part of Breyfogle's plot to try to kill me?

But the fine folks at my local comics shop are not to blame for this. Really, the entirety of the blame should rest on the shoulders of Steven Grant for conceiving this monstrosity.

I mean, who creates this kind of comic? Who loads 28 pages of shit with no care whatsoever about someone walking in out of the fog? There has to be some sign posts along the way, or everyone is going to get lost.

And to do it so completely and with such glee? Who does that?

I'll tell you who.

Steven Grant does.

Why?

Because he hates you, that's why.

Let Whisper #4 stand as the gold-standard for how not to write a comic book. Let the mountain tops ring with with its warning. Let the tides ebb and flow, the moon wax and wane, the circle of life procreate and die – let us never forget what we went through with Whisper #4 – let us learn from our history so as never to repeat it.

The taste of a bad comic lingers for hours. This one is going to last for days.

See you next week.

Another Film About The Waves.

2012-01-19T05:00:00.000-08:00

Best Erotic Graphic Novel of 2011

2012-01-18T05:00:00.000-08:00

This piece originally ran on Comics Bulletin

Dave McKean – Celluloid

So I asked if I could write up my pick for the Best Erotic Graphic Novel of 2011, and, now that I'm actually writing it, I have to admit that I'm pretty uncomfortable doing it. My first problem is that everything I write in this context can easily be taken the wrong way (just look at the ending of this and previous sentence to see what I mean). This fact is causing me to second guess my entire thinking process.

Second, I'm not a big fan of erotica or pornography in general. In all truth, this stuff kind of makes me squeamish. It's not that I'm a prude, or have any sort of religious objections or anything, it's just... well... it's hard to explain. I was raised by nice Jewish parents in suburban Dallas, Texas – watching other people get off just doesn't do it for me.

So why the hell am I writing about the Best Erotic Graphic Novel of 2011?

Two words: Dave McKean.

Dave McKean is a tremendous artist. He creates work of enormous emotional impact with a deftness and subtlety that is so often missing in modern art. McKean can tell an entire novel's story in a single picture, he's that good. Just look at the covers he did for Neil Gaiman's Sandman and you'll see what I mean.

As a fan of McKean's work, when I heard that Fantagraphics was publishing his new book called Celluloid in 2011, I instantly ordered it without knowing anything about it.

Turns out, Celluloid is an erotic graphic novel. It tells an obscure story about a woman's sexual journey through various “worlds”. Each “world” is presented in a different artistic style, echoing surrealism or cubism, as well as using collage and photography. In each “world” the woman encounters a new sexual partner, and with this partner she assumes either a dominant or submissive role .

There are no words in the whole graphic novel – the entire story is told through McKean's amazing art.

His art carries the entire 232 page book.

Sean Edgar from Paste Magazine calls this “a coital masterwork,” and I heartily agree with this assessment.

Celluloid is beautiful and it is powerful and it is mysterious and engaging. It is art as defined by every iteration of the word. It is also another example of what comics can do that no other form of media can match.

As to why he decided to write an Erotic Graphic Novel, McKean said:

“There are so many comics about violence. I’m not entertained or amused by violence, and I’d rather not have it in my life. Sex, on the other hand, is something the vast majority of us enjoy, yet it rarely seems to be the subject of comics. Pornography is usually bland, repetitive and ugly, and, at most, ‘does the job’. I always wanted to make a book that is pornographic, but is also, I hope, beautiful, and mysterious, and engages the mind.”

I certainly can support his rationale. I also think he succeeded in his goal.

So, even though I have read no other books that would fit into this category, I still feel confident in declaring Celluloid the Best Erotic Graphic Novel of 2011.

A Show of Hands.

2012-01-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

The Joy of Books.

2012-01-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

Existentialism.

2012-01-15T05:00:00.000-08:00

It's DANCE like Arthur Brown DAY.

2012-01-14T05:00:00.000-08:00

Cheap Thrills - OUT THERE #5

2012-01-13T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Column Originally Ran On Comics Bulletin

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

January 4, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
OUT THERE #5
Published by: Cliffhanger!
Written by: Brian Augustyn
Art by: Humberto Ramos

SOMETHING FAR MORE IMPORTANT THAN SOCIAL STATUS.

November of 2001 heralded a slew of releases into the American pop culture machine. Movies like Monsters, Inc. and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone came out. Both the Xbox and The Nintendo GameCube were released. The Facts of Life Reunion Special aired on TV. So Solid Crew debuted with their album They Don't Know, GWAR released Violence Has Arrived, and the Silver Jews released Bright Flight.

Hell, they even let China into the WTO in November of 2001.

Sure, we lost both George Harrison and The Angry Beavers, but I'm telling you – everything about November 2001 was full of fecundity.

Into this fructiferous month, Cliffhanger! released Out There #5 by Brian Augustyn and Humberto Ramos. At the time, Cliffhanger! was part of Wildstorm which was part of Image Comics. The imprint lasted from 1998 to 2004 when it became part of the Homage Comics line and formed the Wildstorm Signature Series. Out There was the fifth title produced by Cliffhanger!, and it is only fitting somehow that issue number five of this series ended up in my hands today.

Or something like that...

Out There #5 starts with a full page of recap. We're in El Dorado City, California. Evil Forces are afoot. Citizens are against citizens, fathers are against sons, spectral entities are invading -- you know the drill:

We meet Zach and his dad. His dad was possessed by one of those spectral entities and tried to kill Zach. Somehow dad was able to fight off the possession and refrain from filicide (not to be confused with felicide).

Dad feels bad:

The story cuts to City Hall where the Sheriff is investigating the fact that there was a weird and mysterious explosion in the mayor's office. Mayor Wess is missing. The sheriff vows to “Get Them...” I have no idea who “they” are as of yet.

Back to Zach and dad then. Now we meet some other characters: there's Abel who is huge and doesn't talk, there's Mark who is short and wears glasses, there's Casey who is seems to be Zach's love interest, there's Jess who wears a doo-rag and big shoes, and there's Becky Goodwin who is also known as Reverend Becky.

Dad confesses to Reverend Becky that he tried to kill Zach. To this, Revererend Becky responds:

That's right kids, Dark Forces are straining to Break Through.... You know how awkward that can be, especially when you have to stand up in front of the whole class. That's why Reverend Becky is here.

Dad tells everyone that a work crew is scheduled to erect a “staging apparatus” tomorrow. Reverend Becky is concerned. She is under the impression that the four kids (Zach, Mark, Casey, and Jess) are the only one's who can stop the evil forces from breaking through.

I don't know what happened to Abel. He completely disappears from the comic at this point. Maybe he got Cained (see what I did there)?

Then the comic gives us this piece of business:

Say what you will about this comic (and I still have things to say), I think we all should spend a moment basking in the glory that is this page. The combination of Humberto Ramos' pencils, Sandra Hope's inks, and Studio F's colors make this one nice piece of eye candy. Some people say that Ramos' work is an acquired taste, that he's too “cartoon-y” to be working in mainstream comics. To this, I say, “Take a look at this page from Out There #5 and shut the hell up.”

So, anyway... There's this big bad guy named Draedalus (which is like carpel tunnel, but you only get it on Chanukah). Draedalus is in cahoots with the Sheriff. The fact that Draedalus wasn't involved in the explosion that killed the mayor indicates that there are some other players in the game.

But Draedalus is unconcerned really, as their invasion of Earth begins tomorrow night. Earth, he says, “hides a treasure of immeasurable cosmic import.” I assume he is talking about the McRib.

Whoever possesses this treasure, Draedalus continues, “commands the multiverse.” I assume that is why McDonalds only releases it seasonally.

Wow. Two McRib jokes in a row. You're welcome.

Draedalus will reward the Sheriff and his cronies for their aid in this grand scheme. The rest of the town... well.... they will “fare much less well”

Oh, and Draedalus wants the Sheriff to kill those meddling kids (my words, not his).

Speaking of those meddling kids, what have they been up to? We'll it's the next day and they are back in school. It seems that Zach was one of the popular kids at John C. Fremont High. Now that he is hanging out with “geeks,” he has lost his social status. His “no-necked” friend Loomis wants to set him straight. Zach is above all that now, though.

There's something far more important than social status? Whatever it is, it must be intense.

I think they may be referring to the McRib.

That's three McRib jokes now for those of you counting at home.

Suddenly the Sheriff shows up at school. He's either possessed or drunk, but either way he's there to kill the kids. The kids do the sensible thing -- run away.

FYI: It turns out the school wasn't always a school. Before it was a school it was an asylum. Of course it was, This is just another example of typical big government re-purposing liberal bull hockey and ummm.... those other things that conservatives say to express their anger!

Luckily in the attic there are all these asylum leftover devices lying around. Jess puts one to good use.

Once again, the entire art team shines (albeit in a muted way) on this page. The dynamism, the shadows, the layout, the color – this is some pretty sweet stuff. And the Sheriff's line in the bottom panel? Golden.

Sheriff pulls his gun. Jess tries to kick it out of his hands, but she slips on some other old asylum detritus and ends up smacking her head on the dusty floor.

Then this happens:

Damn, Jess – Mark just took a bullet for you. I think you owe him. At least a McRib.

Somehow putting a bullet in a 14 year old kid shakes the Sheriff out of his possession/drunkenness and he runs away.

Mark is dying. Jess got guilt. Casey, though, has the magic healing touch and with some crackling laying-on-of-hands action, she brings Mark back to full health. Casey has the touch. She's good to keep around.

The comic wraps up with the Sheriff heading over to the house of some weird guy with a shaved head, glasses, and a goatee (a classic look for those bold enough to sport it). This guy's name is Bridges. He's apparently not who everyone thinks he is:

Who is he?

Well the comic ends with this splash page:

Whoah. How about that?

One point of contention, and this is real nit-picky and I apologize for that (although I did give you McRib jokes earlier, so cut me some slack). I find it a little awkward when a writer puts “The End is Near.” on the last page of a comic. I don't think I really need to explain that. I have great faith that you understand my concern.

So ultimately, what value does Out There #5 bring to the world? I'm not sure really. Certainly there are some beautiful moments of art thanks to Humberto Ramos and crew – that alone should be worth the 50 cents I paid for it. As a complete package though, I don't really know what to make of it.

I've always liked stories about the hidden evil in suburban neighborhoods, but Sherwood Anderson and David Lynch have already done that trope proud and Out There #5 is certainly not at that level. It's also got that outcast kids saving the world thing going on, which is nice, but Out There #5 ain't no Power Pack, if you know what I'm saying.

What can I say about Out There #5? For fifty cents I got to look at some art that I liked, I didn't get a headache, and it led me to a few McRib jokes.

I guess that's money well spent.

If you've read the series, I would love to hear your thoughts.

If you miss the McRib? Don't worry. It will be back.

See you next week.

Fancy.

2012-01-12T05:00:00.000-08:00

Patches

2012-01-11T05:00:00.000-08:00

Review of RESURRECTION

2012-01-10T05:00:00.000-08:00

THIS REVIEW ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

I was convinced after reading the first 35 or so pages of Resurrection, by Arwen Elys Dayton, that this Sci-Fi novel was written by a precocious teenager who had been raised on a steady diet of Star Trek reruns, Mountain Dew, over-reaching praise from his or her parents about the extent of his or her talent, and really good intentions. The first pages of this novel are bogged down in pretty lifeless exposition. I mean, for goodness sake, the first sentence of the novel is, “The feeling was gray, like dawn, but harder to define.”

Then I looked at the author's biography which reads: “Arwen Elys Dayton was born on the West Coast of the United States to a math professor father and a romantic mother, who named her after an elf in the Lord of the Rings.”

For the sake of this review, though, instead of tossing the book aside and attending to what I thought would be the better writing of my High School Freshmen's To Kill a Mockingbird Essays, I stuck with Resurrection, and let me tell you, this decision made all the difference.

Once the expository details were established and put aside, Dayton began to show her real talents as a writer. From truthful character development to gripping action scenes, from a thought-provoking rewriting of history to expansive alien worlds, Dayton has created a fast-paced, fun to read 422 page Science Fiction epic that I ended up devouring in less than a day.

Through an intricate narrative structure that expertly builds drama through the manipulation of time, Dayton has built a engaging story in a completely realized world populated with believable and remarkable characters.

The sophisticated plot revolves around three central ideas: a war between two alien races, the Kinley and the Lucien; an early Kinley expedition to Earth during the time of the ancient Egyptian Empire; and the search for a lost technology in the modern world that could put an end to the alien war. The intersection between the three ideas pulls the novel together. Dayton is able to do this all seamlessly through her characters. As the plot unfolds, the conceits of “good guy” and “bad guy” break down as everybody ends up having to do awful things in pursuit of their goals.

One of the main characters is Pruitt, a female Kinley solider, who endures both emotional tragedy and some serious beat-downs in her quest to find the tech that could save her world. She is a heroine that you care about, displaying all the right attributes of empathy, intelligence, and bravery. Dayton layers her with enough flaws and vulnerability, though, so that you understand her motivations. As with the rest of the “aliens” in this novel, she is completely human.

I was a little worried that the flashback sequences re-framing the creation of the Great Pyramids of Giza would end up being a little too “new-agey” for my tastes, but, once again, as in the rest of the novel, Dayton's characters become the central focus of this part to such an extent that any sort of spiritual “touchy-feely” stuff gets subsumed into the development of the narrative. It's really great stuff and, in its own way, completely engaging and believable.

Arwen Elys Dayton has really pulled off a great story here with Resurrection. It's fun, engrossing, fast-paced, and pure entertainment. I understand why Amazon has tagged this novel to be a part of their initial slate of Sci-Fi books they're publishing under their 47North imprint.

Convenient Truths -- PAGE ONE: INSIDE THE NEW YORK TIMES

2012-01-09T05:00:00.000-08:00

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

Sometimes the most universal truths can be found in the smallest slices of life. That’s what makes independent documentaries so powerful, engaging, and entertaining. Not only do they show you little worlds to which you’ve never had access, but they oftentimes also tell the larger story of what it means to be human. Armed with this intellectual conceit, a bag of Funyuns, and a couple of Miller beers, Daniel Elkin curls up in front of the TV and delves deep into the bowels of Netflix Streaming Documentaries to find out a little bit more about all of us.

Today he and his friend Jason Sacks found 2011's Page One: Inside the New York Times by Andrew Rossi and Kate Novack.

Are we, as this documentary posits, at a "dangerous moment in American journalism"? What are the repercussions of newspapers around the country succumbing to the financial realities of the moment and either slashing their budgets to the bone or shuting down all together? What is the result of 24 hour news cycles? What effect does the free-for-all of internet “reporting” have on the nation's understanding of the truth?

Sacks: Lately I've been hooked on watching old episodes of the classic TV series Lou Grant on Hulu. I've really enjoyed watching the show for a few reasons – there's some fine acting and some even better scriptwriting on the show. But more than anything I enjoy watching this show because it represents a lost era – a certain sort of bygone era when newspapers were the "voice of the community", advocating for the public good while also generating amazing profits. The character of matriarch Mrs. Pynchon on that show represented all that was supposed to be good about journalism – independence, insight, and the challenging of authority.

Of course those days are long past, if they ever really did exist. Newspapers are hanging on by the skin of their teeth these days, but is the decline of "the fifth estate" a real threat to our democracy?

Elkin: Page One: Inside the New York Times raises these questions. Unfortunately, I don't think it does a very good job of answering them.

This documentary is a story about both the power and limitations of news, specifically The New York Times as provider of news. Over a period of 14 months, the filmmakers were granted behind the scenes access to the inner workings of the Times. Rossi and Novack ended up building their narrative on the media desk at the Times, specifically focusing on media editor Bruce Headlam, and writers Tim Arango, Brian Stelter, and David Carr. The lion's share of the movie, though, really belongs to Carr, and this, I believe, is ultimately to the film's detriment.

Carr is an old school guy. He's got the romanticized grizzled background as a former violent drug addict with a “take-no-shit” attitude that seems to enchant the filmmakers to the point where much of what Carr says in the film, and he says a lot, goes unchallenged and is presented with a Moses-on-high sort of reverence.

Sacks: Carr is an interesting man, and I really enjoyed watching him in this movie. He's outspoken and speaks with a zealot's love for the Times. Unfortunately in Carr I saw both the greatness of the Times and some elements of its weakness.

Carr is clearly an outstanding reporter with an excellent eye for the telling detail. We watch him investigate the story of the bankruptcy of the Tribune Company with a dogged perseverance that shows the unique power that the Times has to set the public agenda and inform the national dialogue. The film makes the subtle hint that without the presence of the Times this story would not have been reported with the same attention that Carr brings it. But it never looks into how the non-traditional media covered this story or whether their reporting was more insightful. We never get a feel for how the Times approached the story using its own exacting journalistic standards.

However, the film also displays the other side of Carr, a side that Rossi and Novack seem to want viewers to embrace but which I found myself repelled by: his breathtaking arrogance. We follow Carr as he takes a visit to the Dark Side, the offices of the internet-based Vice magazine. From the moment he walks into the New Media company's office, Carr seems to be sneering down his nose about his younger competitors. When one of Vice's chief writers points with great pride at his site's coverage of the turmoil in Liberia and insults the Times, Carr erupts in his best "you kids get off my lawn" voice at the editor for daring to insult the Gray Lady. Carr is honestly, legitimately angry that a usurper would dare to insult his paper, but he's also completely blind to the fact that the public wants news from this kind of new media enterprise. It's easy to imagine Vice's editors rolling their eyes at the blind declarations of the old man in their midst and then continuing down their very successful road.

Elkin: Not to say that Carr doesn't make some good points in the film, and it is these points that should be the focus of further discussion. What is the value of the newspaper model of news delivery to our democracy? Is it preferential to other models and, if so, why is that? What are the dangers inherent in the loss of this model? What are the dangers of other models taking precedence?

Sacks: That's an important discussion, but that is where this documentary seems to really fall short for me. I wanted desperately to gain some insight into the Times and its place in the new world of Newsmax, Huffington Post, Vice and Google News. But instead I mostly felt like I received a lesson on why the Times in particular is so important for our world. And for me, the movie never makes a completely compelling case for that.

There's a very telling moment when the Times's editors watch NBC covering the US withdrawal from Iraq, wondering about the importance of the Times being excluded from the coverage. There's a real feeling of time passing the Times by in that moment, of how the dead tree media has lost its importance in an era when the 24/7 news cycle drives everything. The editors seem legitimately confused about what their reactions should be. But they shouldn't be.

The problems of the Times is the same as many other media in the Internet age. We saw it first with the music companies, but the impact of the web may have hit newspapers worse than any other business sector. They set the seeds of their own doom and seem unwilling to make the dramatic changes required by modern times. As the movie says, a paywall won't do much good to help the Times survive, so what will it take for the company to turn the corner? And is that something that anyone that will be missed by anyone too young to have watched Lou Grant when it was first airing on TV?

Elkin: What do we lose as a nation if the New York Times were to disappear? Certainly over the years of its existence, the Times has built up a pretty well-deserved reputation for objectivity and a doggedness in unearthing the machinations behind the events of the world. Aside from some rather spectacular stumbles (most notably the Jayson Blair scandal and Judith Miller's reporting on Iraq's Weapons of Mass Destruction), the Times is the paper that people trust with their news. The film points out rightly that much of the “reportage” that is found in the blogosphere and on the 24-hour news shows is commentary on pieces that originally come from the Times. What is written in the Times sets a precedent for how some stories are framed. In a world without the Times, we lose some of that structural integrity.

Another aspect that the filmmakers try to make in Page One is with the loss of the Times, our democracy would lose an important check on the power of government and corporations, as there would be nobody there holding them to task in the same manner as the Times does. On this topic, the film focuses for a moment on the reality of Julian Assange's WikiLeaks as new form of journalism. Instead of trying to grapple with the implications of this, Page One provides David Carr and Bruce Headlam a 20 foot tall soapbox from which to preach about how an information dump such as WikiLeaks is not useful until an organization like the Times has gone through the process of vetting the material and then reformatting it in a manner that tells the story that they think is the most newsworthy.

Sacks: There's such a double-edged sword to the trust that this movie wants us to put into the Times. The movie just kind of brushes aside the issue of the extreme loss of faith that the Blair and Miller affairs represent for smart readers. The approaches of those writes inform our opinions of the approaches of other writers. We have to wonder what sorts of items were ignored when the Times filtered the WikiLeaks story, because they didn't fit the agenda of the Times or simply didn't have sufficient space to be run in the article.

Why is it the job of the Times today to filter the news in the way it did 30 or 40 years ago? And, given the loss of faith from the Blair affair and given the way that the Times seems out of step with the way we consume news in 2012, is there a reason we should trust the Times over another news outlet? I wanted to see this movie address these topics more directly, but as you say, we really get everything shown us from the standpoint of Carr and Headlam.

Elkin: Once again, this smacks of self-importance and is demeaning. It is this attitude that undermines so much of what Page One is trying to say, and is why this film fails.

Just for the record, I am in no way advocating for the demise of the New York Times. I am in complete agreement that there is an important role the Times plays in our democracy as a news gathering and news disseminating medium. I firmly believe that the loss of the paper would be a tragedy for our country and it would create a “truth-vacuum” that I don't really see anyone else being able to fill. What I am disappointed with is Page One's inability to make this case in a meaningful way to an audience that is increasingly relying on new forms of media to get its news, which is why the paper is struggling in the first place.

Sacks: I couldn't agree with you more, Daniel. I think the Times is an important part of our democracy and fulfills an important role in our society. But I wish this movie had explored the interesting topics it raises in more detail. Most importantly, there's little or nothing in this movie that talks about the place of the Times in the New Media environment of 2012. We get a little bit of coverage of the Times paywall implementation, but there's not a lot of insight gleaned from the small anecdotes the movie shows on that topic. In these days of Vice and Yahoo News and Politico and Gawker and dozens of other sites that cover the same ground as the Times, what is the place for the Gray Lady of News?

Elkin: I'm glad this documentary was made for the reason that it raises all of these questions, as these are important questions that deserve a lot of thought. I am disappointed that the film doesn't do enough to help answer any of them.

Classic Comics Cavalcade: THE ESSENTIAL DEFENDERS vol. 2

2012-01-08T05:00:00.000-08:00

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

In this episode of Classic Comics Cavalcade, Daniel and Jason follow up their previous chat about Steve Gerber's amazing comics with a look at some of Jason's favorite Gerber comics – his amazing run on Defenders.

Elkin: So. Gerber. The Defenders. Tell me about your first experience with this.

Sacks: Oh holy crap. So I was a mere tyke barely out of diapers when I first read this stuff, in 1975 or '76 when I was in elementary school. I'm pretty sure I was attracted by the fact that the Hulk was one of the featured Defenders and like a lot of kids I loved how he would get giant and green and strong as hell when he was mad. I always wish I could do that when I was mad at my friends or my parents.

So I picked up my first issue of this series when I was about 9 or 10 and it was Defenders #24.

Elkin: The one with Sons of the Serpent?

Sacks: I remember it distinctly because the secret hideout with the Sons of the Serpent stuck in my head for years. I thought it was so cool how the Serpents trapped our heroes in giant serpent-shaped shackles, which is of course completely absurd to me now as an adult in a whole bunch of ways.

I had no idea what all that stuff was about racism, but as I got older and started rereading them, I realized how smart and insightful and unique all that stuff was. Of course #24 has a great cliffhanger too, so I was dying to read the next chapter, which of course has the amazing revelation about the head of the Sons of the Serpent that totally blew me away.

Elkin: I was going to ask you what a 9 or 10 year old though about a group of bad guys in a comic book claiming to be the "Catalysts of the Great White Revolution". Were you familiar with Charles Manson at the time? Helter Skelter?

Sacks: Yeah right, Elkin. :-) I was a pretty sheltered kid really.

Elkin: When reading it, I was amazed that Gerber was going with this whole White Power thing - echoing Manson's Helter Skelter - in the midst of a mainstream Marvel Comic. And then to have the leader of the group pulling a Clarence Thomas (obviously before we knew who Clarence Thomas was) was absolutely a brain twist. Then to have Luke Cage say, "It's between me an' the Oreo, here!" was completely off the hook. I don't know what I would have done at the age of 10 if I had read that.

Sacks: It's a fascinating work. On one level it reads like a fairly typical Marvel comic of its era. On another there's a whole lot of sophisticated references and realistic reactions that totally gives the comic a fascinating period relevance.

Elkin: Hanging Valkyrie on an upside-down cross to burn her, pretty intense.

Sacks: And then having the literal son of Satan save her from burning.

Elkin: I know, right...

I do have to ask you. In issue #25, Gerber introduces an Elf with a gun. As far as I could tell, this is never referenced again. What the hell was that all about?

Sacks: Ah, the Gerber elf.

Elkin: Not to be confused with the Gerber baby...Wait.. I made that joke before.

Sacks: He pops up three or four more times in Defenders, always as one-page cutaway non-sequiturs from the main story. And then... nothing.

Elkin: It was so freaking random that it totally unnerved me. Was this a way to keep readers on their toes?

Sacks: According to Wikipedia the elf showed up 4 times, then David Anthony Kraft, who came after Gerber, had the elf run over by a car in Defenders #46.

Elkin: That is hysterical.

Sacks: Why did Gerber do it? Good question. I think he was trying for exactly what you felt - just a random bit of chaos in the midst of other chaos that is the stuff and bother of his life. If you follow my theory about Gerber's work being subconsciously autobiographical, maybe it represents his ambivalence about working in fantasy literature while living in crime-ridden New York City during the era it went bankrupt.

Elkin: Interesting theory, to say the least. Perhaps something for a longer article or doctoral dissertation. Do you know what sort of reaction Gerber got from either the public or, more interestingly, from Marvel itself about the whole Sons of the Serpent storyline?

Sacks: I don't remember, honestly, but I remember the letters pages being happy with him.

What was your reaction to it?

Elkin: It was pretty intense stuff, to say the least, especially given the fact that it was presented in a book like the Defenders -- which really was the last place I was expecting to find political polemics, especially about race relations in America.

I think he handled it pretty well, though, considering the limitations under which the form compels. I think he raised some interesting questions in it.

Sacks: This series under Gerber has a really realistic feel to it for a super-hero book. The events that occur really seem to touch the characters in ways that the events in, say, Avengers or Fantastic Four do.

Elkin: And, like I said before, Luke Cage's reaction to the fact that the Sons of the Serpent were being led by Pennysworth, an African-American himself, was really amazingly poignant.

Sacks: I love the way Gerber writes Cage.

Elkin: You said that it had a really realistic feel to it, but then the next story arc that Gerber writes is all about the Guardians of the Galaxy, which is about as unrealistic as can be.

Sacks: Yeah it's pretty much the opposite of the Serpents story, but it still has its intense elements - the future history where we destroy the planet due to ozone gasses is really kind of prescient.

Elkin: "We decided we valued dry armpits and the 3 billion dollar aerosol industry over our flowers, our food, and ultimately our health."

Sacks: That sent small chills down my spine.

Elkin: The whole timeline of planetary destruction that he outlines in issue #26 is pretty amazing, and reading it today, with these things in our "past" (Gerber's future) added a whole different layer to its impact.

Sacks: But I liked how Gerber was optimistic despite the ecological horrors - we got bionics and went to colonize all the planets.

Elkin: Then... the Badoon.

Sacks: And their strange problems with gender.

Elkin: Yea. I wanted to talk a little about that as well. It seems that Gerber, at least from reading this bit, had some interesting thoughts about gender relations.

Sacks: Hmm, tell me more of what you're thinking.

Elkin: The way he set up the Badoon female society as being this City on a Hill kind of place and how they still, it seems to me, were forced to take a subservient role to the male Badoon.

But the society could only flourish if the men and women of the species were kept apart.

Sacks: The women were very happy being separated from the men, in fact that's the only way that they felt they could survive as a viable unit.

The men were kind to their pets but not to their women.

Elkin: Gerber writes, "You've remained slaves to the males' system. It's nice and safe as long as you stay confined to this world and no questions are asked." They were also complacent in the destruction that the males would wreck through this process.

The whole "the only way the species can continue is through separation of the genders" is kind of a big statement.

Sacks: The Badoon had hardly ever appeared before in comics, so Gerber had free reign to create that world.

Elkin: And inject his politics into it as well....

Sacks: I'm not sure if this is a philosophical insight for Gerber or a fictional construct, to be honest. He generally writes good female characters. Valkyrie is definitely an interesting woman with some complex issues in her life.

Elkin: Absolutely. I am by no means implying that I think Gerber was misogynistic in any way. Valkyrie's existential crisis is pretty intense for a comic book coming out in the '70s.

Sacks: But your insight is intriguing.

A lot of what I was talking about with characters feeling the intensity of the event of this book is about Valkyrie's real existential crisis. It's almost impossible to imagine a more intense and true existential crisis than Barbara Norriss/Valkyrie.

Elkin: Especially during the scenes with her husband and when she goes back to her childhood home.

Sacks: She went from being a married woman who was a servant of a cult - and driven insane by that experience - into a strong and intense warrior woman whose past life was literally another world for her.

I was amazed when I reread these stories how much the scenes of Val looking thru her photo album hit me.

Elkin: I agree. Gerber really hit the emotional beats on that scene. I don't know enough about the Valkyrie character -- does this issue ever get resolved for her?

Sacks: Well this is what I probably like the best about Gerber... she basically resolved it by accepting who she is now and exploring who she was as literally a new person. As she grows Jack Norriss also grows and learns to accept the new chaos in his life. You can see hints of that in the end of the Guardians saga.

He's a bit of a Mary Sue, reacting and trying to deal with the new chaos in his life. Gerber loved his Mary Sues. There's several in his work. Paul Same in Howard the Duck, Richard Rory in Man-Thing.

Elkin: Do we ever find out what happens to Jack Norriss?

Sacks: Yeah, you'll love how he changes in Essential Defenders vol. 3.

Did you notice how nicely Gerber wrote Ben Grimm in the Two-In-One issues? Gerber's Ben Grimm has also come to terms with his new life and chosen to embrace his life.

Elkin: I like how he is a real Yancy Street Grimm. I also love his incredulous nature saying things like: "I gotta be dreamin'! Ya can't wreck the world with a harmonica!" Gerber seems to use the Thing to sort of ground us in this totally off the wall bit about the Harmonica of Destiny. I did really like that.

Sacks: I liked Stephen Strange and Kyle Richmond and the rest of the characters in this book, but the one I'd most like to hang out with is Gerber's version of the Thing.

Elkin: Certainly he would be the most fun to have a beer with.

Going back to the gender issues in the Defenders, for a moment – there is that bit in issue #29 when the Hulk and this lady are sent to die in some arctic place as part of the Super-Death Sweepstakes. The lady has made some pretty serious sacrifices for the Hulk. She just disappears though once they get out of that situation and is never mentioned again. Kind of a throwaway character. Kind of a cop-out too in terms of plot development. Is she like the Elf?

Sacks: I never noticed that. She's never spoken of again.

Elkin: And it seemed like there were some interesting possibilities with her character as well. Her rejection of the Dionysian lifestyle of her planet, her romantic interest in the Hulk, the sacrifice she makes.... I would have like to have seen where that character could have gone.

Sacks: She's another case of the people in charge literally discarding a female character. Emperor Goozot say, "A former wife of mine, Mon-tee. From what I overheard in the dungeon, she'd prefer Mr. Green as her mate."

Elkin: I think that was sort of a lost opportunity. Gerber really didn't think too much of the Hulk as a character, other than being a simple minded destruction machine who was loyal to his friends.

Sacks: You're right there. The Hulk is the one character with no depth. Though he hates racism from the Serpents.

Elkin: Not sure if it is the racism he hates, or the fact that his friends are getting hurt.

Sacks: True.

Elkin: Still, he does provide some comic relief and the convenient Banner brain when needed.

Sacks: The book needed at least one star to anchor it. Guest appearances from Yellowjacket wouldn't sell copies.

Elkin: Heh. That's true. Even when he is shaking his fist silently at the sky in anger.

So, Sacks, you are slowly turning me into a true Gerber gonzo. After Destroyer Duck and these Defenders, where do I go next?

Sacks: I think we need to go to Essential Defenders vol. 3 next and the Headmen saga.
Those characters from Defenders #21 show up again, with Ruby Thursday and some other friends.

Elkin: Do you mean Dr. Nagan? The man whose head has been grafted on the body of a gorilla, BY GORILLAS?

Sacks: Isn't that just fucking awesome?

Elkin: Oh yea it is.

Sacks: Nagan, Morgan and Chondu were all chosen from a contemporary issue of the reprint comic Weird Wonder Tales. They come from post-code monster stories

Elkin: I love Morgan's melt face.

You have sold me just by telling me that these guys make reappearance.

Sacks: I can give you more teasers if you want, but I don't want to spoil anything.

Elkin: Morgan's melt face is enough of a teaser for me, believe me. I'll go hunt down Essential Defenders #3 sometime this week!

Sacks: You will absolutely love it, my glib friend.

Elkin: Sweet. I think I refrained entirely from any glibness in this whole piece. I am rather
proud of myself for that and believe that I deserve some sort of awesome medal or trophy or something. Oh no, that may have been glib.

Sacks: Damn, I was going to give you a medal then you blew it.

Elkin: Shit. Story of my life. Going... going.... going... then boom, glib.
Gerber brings out the glibness, I guess.

Sacks: The Guardians move into their own series after their guest appearance in Defenders and Starhawk joins the group. He then becomes comics' first transgendered character of a sort as he shares his body with Aleta and switches back and forth between genders.
Another great Gerber comic series.

Elkin: Let's get through the Defenders first before you blow my mind even further with that stuff.

Sacks: Deal!

Let's Meet: ELF WITH A GUN

2012-01-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

Elf with a Gun

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Elf with a Gun is a fictional character in the Marvel Universe. The Elf first appeared in Defenders #25 (July 1975), and was created bySteve Gerber and Sal Buscema.

The Elf received an entry in the All-New Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe A-Z #4 (2006).

Fictional character biography:

The Elf with a Gun is a small humanoid who commits murders for no apparent reason. The elf first appears in Defenders, killing Tom and Linda Pritchett.[1] Over a series of issues, he kills Charles Lester and his spouse in Las Vegas[2], Stu and his girlfriend at the Grand Canyon[3], and a woman hiding from the Hulk in the bathroom.[4]

He seemingly meets his end outside a house (owned by Nighthawk) in upstate New York. Preparing to kill a newspaper delivery boy named Greg, and his dog, Elf with a Gun is run over and killed by a Mac Ray moving truck. Greg notices nothing.[5]

The Elf finds himself in the 'Land of the Lost', a realm where iconic characters re-live the sixties. He encounters the rock band KISS but does not kill them, only pretends to. He gives them valuable information so the band members can make their way back home. One member, Starchild, wishes for the Elf to be hit by a truck.[6]

After Nighthawk dies, his friend and Nurse Luann Bloom suspects the Defenders were involved in his death. She follows a lead but meets the Elf instead, they go on to meet cosmic entities. Luann is revealed as a robotic 'Time Buoy', which she later denies.[7]

An Elf was also the one to reveal to the original Defenders – the Hulk, the Silver Surfer, Doctor Strange, and Namor – that they would be the cause of the Earth's destruction if they continued to work together. Thus, the four agreed to never work together again as the Defenders and quit the original team.[8] This claim is later revealed to have been a hoax.[9]

Another elf shows up, claiming to be Relf, the nephew of the original Elf, named Melf.[10]

References
1. ^ Defenders #25 (July 1975)
2. ^ Defenders #31 (January 1976)
3. ^ Defenders #38 (August 1976)
4. ^ Defenders #40 (October 1976)
5. ^ Defenders #46 (April 1977)
6. ^ Marvel Comics Super Special #5 (1978)
7. ^ Defenders #115 (January 1983), #117-119 (March-May 1983)
8. ^ Defenders #122-125 (August-November 1983)
9. ^ The Incredible Hulk #370 (June 1990)
10. ^ Spider-Man Team-Up #5 (December 1996)
11. ^ Savage Dragon / Destroyer Duck #1 (November 1996)

Even more on ELF WITH A GUN can be found here.

Let's Meet: ARTHUR NAGAN

2012-01-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

Arthur Nagan

From Wikipedia

Publication history

Dr. Arthur Nagan first appeared in Mystery Tales #21 (September 1954), and was created by Bob Powell. This story was reprinted in Weird Wonder Tales #7 (December 1974). Steve Gerber created the Headmen after reading the reprint issue.

The character subsequently appears in Defenders vol. 1 #21 (March 1975), 31-33 (January–March 1976), 35 (May 1976), Defenders Annual #1 (October 1976), Power Man/Iron Fist #68 (April 1981), Marvel Age Annual #1 (1985), The Sensational She-Hulk vol. 2 #1-3 (May–July 1989), Avengers: Deathtrap: The Vault Graphic Novel (1991), Web of Spider-Man #73 (February 1991), Marvel Comics Presents #97 (1992), Defenders vol. 2 #5 (July 2001), 7-10 (September–December 2001), and Heroes for Hire #6-8 (March–May 2007).

Fictional character biography

Dr. Arthur Nagan is a former surgeon who took the organs from gorillas to use in people. However his scheme was allegedly

thwarted by the gorillas who somehow transplanted his head onto a gorilla’s body.

He is a member of the Headmen and fought with Defenders on several occasions. Upon his release from prison, he attacked Power Man, who was temporarily de-powered. He is a former member of the Lethal Legion.

He later rejoined by the Headmen and participates in the plan to give his ally, Chondu, a new body. Specifically, the body of a clone of She-Hulk. The Headmen hire the Ringmaster and his Circus of Crime, then later Mysterio in order to test She-Hulk for compatibility. She is subdued and cloned, but escapes with the aid of Spider-Man. Nagan is arrested by the New York city police. Nagan is seen without the Headmen during a Vault outbreak. He and the female Frenzy, being held in neighboring cells, are freed by Electro.

The Headmen tracked Spider-man to a party Alicia Masters was hosting in order to procure Spider-Man's body for Chondu. Human Torch and Spider-man defeating enemies and the Headmen was soon arrested. Later allied with the A.I.M. plotted to control an ancient space-god in order to rule the world. They resurrected the alien space god Orrgo and conquered the world with him, but Defenders quickly defeating Orrgo and the Headmen.

2012 - This shall be an Elvis Awesome Year

2012-01-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

May this year be Elvis Awesome.

Cheap Thrills - CATALYST: AGENTS OF CHANGE #1

2012-01-04T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

December 21, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
CATALYST: AGENTS OF CHANGE #1
Published by: Dark Horse Comics
Written by: Eddie Campbell and Pete Ford
Art by: Tim Hamilton and Steve Carr

IF YOU BOYS DON'T ZIP IT, THIS “SKIRT” WILL HAVE TO REMIND BOTH OF YOU WHO'S IN CHARGE HERE.

Jack Kirby died in February, 1994. This event, as far as I am concerned, was probably the most significant thing that happened then.

Sure, Jeff Gillooly plead guilty for hitting Nancy Kerrigan in the knee with a pipe. Sure, Edvard Munch's The Scream was stolen in Oslo. Sure, Sonic the Hedgehog 3 introduced the world to Knuckles, sure Ace Ventura: Pet Detective opened in theaters. Sure, Dakota Fanning was born.

But none of these events were as culturally important in February of 1994 as the loss of “King” Kirby.

Except... maybe... just maybe... the release of Catalyst: Agents of Change #1 by Dark Horse Comics.

Then again, I may be overstating this. I did just find Catalyst: Agents of Change #1 in the bargain bin, after all.

This comic was part of Dark Horse's attempt to create a shared universe between a number of titles. The concept itself did not last very long. Mostly, it seemed, because the majority of the titles sucked.

But still, I have high hopes for Catalyst: Agents of Change, if for no other reason than the title alone is awesome. If nothing else, all catalysts ARE agents of change. Deal with it.

So what the hell is Catalyst: Agents of Change anyway, other than one of the greatest names for a comic book, ever?

A little background info (thank you Wikipedia):

Catalyst: Agents of ChangeFormation: The Warmaker IncidentWarmaker, a former United States soldier turned supervillain, is sent by the government to be imprisoned in The Vault, a super-prison located in Golden City. He escapes (or is allowed to escape by Grace) and begins a rampage.
He faces various heroes. Rebel can fly and shoot energy blasts. Mecha is a tall, yellow, mechanical construct. Titan has flight, speed and superstrength. Ruby has bright red skin and can heal others. Warmarker causes massive amounts of destruction to the city, until Grace arrives to face him.
She easily defeats Warmaker, but Titan attacks him for no reason. Warmaker strikes Titan, knocking him into Rhapsody, the local healer. She falls into a nearby crater and dies of a broken neck.
Warmaker escapes. Grace uses this and the death of Rhapsody as a rallying point. She announces Golden City will secede from the United States of America.

Got that? Good, because I don't.

But this does at least provide some “context”...

Catalyst: Agents of Change opens with two guys drinking in a bar. They head out in the streets and we get this:

I assume this is supposed to be funny, either that or a commentary on the ubiquitous nature of super heroes in this fictional world If it is the later, then I am a bit concerned about this comic. If throw-away characters in the book can't muster any enthusiasm for its lead characters, how am I supposed to? If it is supposed to be funny, it strikes me as one of those scenes that a writer quickly jots down in their idea notebook as an example of how witty they are. To open a comic book series with it – that takes some balls.

This comic may, in fact, suck after all.

Still, in the spirit of the season, I gird my enthusiasm.

Turning the page reveals a two page splash:

Ummmm.... not really sure about this guy with his heart shaped chest cut out, blonde pony tail, and red glasses. Maybe that is why the denizens of the city aren't excited to see him. And the city looks kind of like it's made of Legos. Uh-oh.

The comic then suddenly shifts to the inside of some sparse “command center” looking room (replete with shiny consoles and giant monitors). Herein we find Grace and Madison having a conversation about how Golden City (the previously noted Lego town) is going through the process of secession from the USA, how an American army is amassing outside of its borders in order to stop that process, and what a bitch Grace is.

Then the book cuts to a bunch of super-powered heroes ordering around a bunch of yahoos in yellow hardhats as they build a burnt umber wall out of … well... seemingly more Legos.

Two of these supes, Titan and Warmaker (who was the villain previously), don't seem to like each other much. Things get testy when Warmaker makes a comment about Titan's commitment to building the Lego wall.

Although he has nicely defined abs, as a manager Warmaker could probably benefit from reading Who Moved My Cheese. Also, this comic came out in 1994. What kind of thick-headed misogynist still called women “skirts”? Must be the “horns” on his head.

Then, suddenly, from out of a floating black diamond steps Grace who inadvertently makes a bawdy pun.

At first I thought the fey, blonde, ruby sunglasses wearing hero in the background of this panel was reacting to Grace's joke, but it turns out that this dude has one of those superpowers that he has to transfer to his twin brother after awhile to keep from blowing up or something (or something).

Titan and Warmaker put aside their differences once Grace informs them that they have a shared enemy, the US army, and that their enemy is on the move, headed towards Golden City.

Grace sends Warmaker and a yellow metal guy named Mecha to defend the city on the ground. She sends Titan and blond pony tail (whose name turns out to be “Rebel” seriously cementing him as a true ambiguously gay superhero) to attend to air defense (as they both fly). Another hero, Ruby (who is red – imagine that) is to stay inside the city, and then Grace informs them all that she will be coordinating the battle from within “The Citadel.”

And I am about to fall asleep and bemoan another lost fifty cents to the devil who revels in the production of crappy comics.

Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, this comic turns awesome.

And everything starts to reflect it.

The writing team of Campbell and Ford lead the reader to focus on the heroes Titan and Rebel “rising up among the anvil-topped clouds where the gods once hammered out their thunderbolts.” Here they confront six US Air Force Stealth Fighters barreling down upon their faces.

Artist Tim Hamilton (who drew pages 6-24) also gets all caught up in this awesome tsunami and begins to pull out all of the stops. Like when Titan lands on the hood of one of the Stealth Fighters.

Awesome!

But it doesn't stop there. Get a load of this splash page:

KEERUNCHK!

Hell, yeah!

Which then leads to this:

OH MY GOD, I LOVE THIS!

While this is going on, Rebel blows some things up, deals with the fact that he has held on to his superpowers too long (remember, he has to transfer it to his twin brother), and eventually passes out from all the strain. This probably sets up a whole story arc at some later date, but whatever, it is what it is.

From her command center, Grace uses one of her black diamond teleporter thingys to take care of an errant US Airforce missle.

Next, Catalyst: Agents of Change #1 focuses on the Ground Offensive. Mecha and Warmaker have their hands full with a bunch of tanks. Literally.

awesome.

After building an outer wall of scrapped tanks around the perimeter of Golden City, Mecha and Warmaker notice that one of the Stealth Fighter's missiles actually made it past Titan, Rebel, and Grace's black diamonds. Mecha wonders aloud why Grace could stop one missle, but not another. To this, Warmaker cryptically replies:

I don't know about you, but personally I hate getting it in the neck when it don't work out right (just like Barry White).

The comic then shifts focus to the camouflaged Recreational Vehicle base (special issue) of the US Military forces, where the mustached man in charge casually accepts the loss of life in the name of the greater intelligence mission (not that this would ever happen in real life).

Back at the Citadel, Grace and Madison are perplexed as to the actual purpose of the military attack they just successfully rebuffed.

Which then leads to this awesome panel

I have no idea why everything suddenly is red inside the command RV, but from the brim of his hat over the guy's eyes, to his fucked up hand gesture, to the guy suddenly needing to bend over the console to scream into his radio, this is the sheeeet! There is so much going on that is over-the-top in this panel that it just screams out, “I'm a fucking comic book, let me entertain you!”

And the ridiculous momentum of this continues as they start “PULLING THE PIN!”

FWOOOM, baby, fwooom!

It's almost like a freakin' action ejaculation going on here -- A “what-the-fuck” head blast combined with a “give-me-more” testicle tightening – and it all culminates in this:

BOOM! Ridiculous.

“Of course, you know this means WAR...”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!

Oh my god, this is great.

I'm a gumbo. I'm a two-headed whale. I am flailing arms akimbo as the wind hits my sail.

Catalyst: Agents of Change #1, if you were a prostitute, I would leave a thousand dollar tip on the dresser as I left.

Wow.

Man, this was one entertaining comic book ride. I was totally unprepared for the sudden shift to awesome this book took after such a crappy set-up situation.

I mean, this thing had “I'm a Crappy Comic” sand-blasted all over it from the front cover straight through the first seven pages, and then it transforms, explosively, into some Die Hard level “Yippee-Ki-Yay” action excitement in a way that, stripping away any intellectual conceits, can be damn entertaining.

And it was damn entertaining.

And for fifty cents? I mean, come on? How does that happen nowadays?

Randomly grabbing Dark Horse's February 1994 Catalyst: Agents of Change #1 out of the bargain bin? It's a Festivus Miracle and a bold tiding of the promises of the new year.

May you and yours have a Catalyst: Agents of Change #1 level awesome 2012!

See you next week.

STUART IMMONEN - TOP TEN OF 2011

2012-01-03T05:00:00.000-08:00

Originally ran as part of Comic Bulletin's Top 10 Artists of 2011

It wasn't until 2004 that I got my first taste of the work of the artist Stuart Immonen. I was reading Marvel's Ultimate Fantastic Four from the start and enjoying what was going on through issues 1-6. Suddenly, in issue #7 a new creative team took over, Warren Ellis and Stuart Immonen. When that happened I thought to myself, “my isn't this nice.” The next time I really paid attention to Stuart Immonen was when he and Ellis teamed up again, this time for a series called NextWave: Agents of H.A.T.E. It was during this 12 issue run that my love affair for all things Immonen really and truly began.

But this article is about 2011, and if we're talking 2011 and Stuart Immonen, then we have to talk about Marvel's big-event, Fear Itself. In this series, Immonen showed his incredible versatility, capturing expansive cosmic landscapes in a breath-taking manner emphasizing their vastness and their beauty, while at the same time capturing the emotional breadth of the human face and its ability to convey fear, sadness, awe, or disdain. The fact that he so deftly dealt with the huge number of characters involved in this company-wide cross over alone should make him one of the top artists of 2011. Add to this the facts that his lines are always clean, his layouts are always spot-on, his pacing is always impeccable, and his style is so distinctive absolutely puts Stuart Immonen in the top two of 2011.

WITCH DOCTOR - TOP 10 OF 2011

2012-01-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

Originally ran as part of Comic Bulletin's Top 10 Miniseries of 2011 Column

Witch Doctor is a four issue mini-series written by Brandon Seifert and drawn by Lukas Ketner. It was published through Robert Kirkman's Skybound imprint at Image Comics.

It is thoroughly and completely awesome for the following reasons:

1. You got your medical drama.
2. You got your supernatural/horror action sequences.

3. You got your dark humor (and it's dark – and it's FUNNY).
4. You got your fantastically detailed artwork.
5. You got your fully realized characters (The main character, Dr. Vincent Morrow, is a clever, intriguing, and ultimately lovable douche-bag, while Penny Dreadful is one of the best new horror characters created in recent years).
6. You got your endless possibilities for all sorts of new stories limited only by the imagination of the creators.
7. You got two comic creators so excited about and in love with what they are doing that their enthusiasm flies off the pages (it's infectious).

This first mini-series has ended, but Seifert and Ketner promise even more Witch Doctor in 2012.

ROCKETEER ADVENTURES - TOP TEN OF 2011

2012-01-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

Originally ran as part of Comic Bulletin's Top Ten Miniseries of 2011 Column

What would you do if I told you that Mike Allred, John Arcudi, Kurt Busiek, John Cassady, Darwyn Cooke, Lowell Francis, Dave Gibbons, Joe R. Lansdale, Joe Pruett, Jonathan Ross, Ryan Sook, Mark Waid, Tommy Lee Edwards, Gene Ha, Scott Hampton, Tony Harris, Michael Kaluta, Brendan McCarthy, Ryan Sook, Bruce Timm, and Chris Weston were working on a mini-series together?

What would you do if I told you that this mini-series would be celebrating the further adventures of the late (great) Dave Stevens character The Rocketeer, one of the all-time great comic book heroes?

You'd wet yourself, right?

Well, in 2011 I wet myself.

In 2011, IDW published a 4 issue mini-series called Rocketeer Adventures which gave some of comicdom's best talents the opportunity to play in the retro-world of Cliff Secord and his pin-up girlfriend Betty. The series was obviously an homage to the talent and influence of Dave Stevens, as well as a love letter to the genre. Each issue was comprised of vignettes, allowing each creator to put their particular stamp on these characters and let their love shine.

Nothing really heavy or earth-shattering goes on in the series. Rather, Rocketeer Adventures was all about fun, celebrating the work of Dave Stevens, and reminding us that comics can be some of the best entertainment around.

P.S. I promise I have showered and changed clothes since the aforementioned wetting.

POEM.

2011-12-31T05:00:00.001-08:00

DRAWING DOWN

As they Flow in your onion skin Italian books

Dream mists and half askance stares

Lines thick with moments brushed against your lips

Shades of moons left in brown mustard jars

The pens pin so many possibilities

Point by point by point

Capture the advent

With your whorls

In Dimension 4692

we are ruled by brown corduroy

which sits on its metal throne

handing out decrees

by the fistful

constantly on guard

worried about a coup

from within

armed with pinking shears

and hot ideas

long the days

they have reigned

Take each of the pens

Cobble out the history of time

With each new onion skin

Fill Italian books with a new understanding

Break down the hold of brown corduroy

Break down the hot ideas of rebellion

Turn each moment into mist

With your whorls

In Dimension 4692

Like silk worms embraced

we leave our effluvium

interwoven with the mist

forming a new fabric

upon which to draw

new moments of ecstasy

formulating new rule

in which Adam and Eve

feast on the flesh of the brown snake

seasoned slightly

with the pale scent of the apple.

Your Chicken Enemy

2011-12-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

SHINY THINGS.

2011-12-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

All That Glitters: The History of Shiny Things from Etsy on Vimeo.

When Pants Man Attacks.

2011-12-28T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Song is on Repeat in My Brain

2011-12-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

Alan Wilkis - "Come and Go (feat. The KickDrums)" from David Sosnow on Vimeo.

Post Christmas Separate Body Style Attack.

2011-12-26T05:00:00.000-08:00

Nothing Says Christmas Like John McClane

2011-12-25T05:00:00.003-08:00

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T05:00:00.000-08:00

Christmas is almost here.

2011-12-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

Christmas is around the corner

2011-12-22T05:00:00.000-08:00

Cheap Thrills - TESTAMENT #12

2011-12-21T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

This Column Originally Ran on COMICS BULLETIN

December 14, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
TESTAMENT #12
Published by: Vertigo Comics
Written by: Douglas Rushkoff
Art by: Peter Gross (layouts) and Gary Erskine (finishes)

HUMANS MUST NEVER LEARN THAT THE TEXT KEEPS CHANGING...

In January of 2007, the American Astronomical Society announced that it had discovered a “triple quasar,” Japanese fishermen discovered a rare Frilled Shark, Scottish scientists successfully engineered hens to produce useful drugs in their eggs, Steve Jobs unveiled the iPhone, the Hitachi company broke the 1 terabyte barrier for hard disk capacity, and the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists moved the minute hand on the Doomsday clock to five minutes to midnight.

We buried Gerald Ford, saw the death of Robert Anton Wilson, and became enthralled in World of Warcraft: Burning Crusade.

January of 2007 was fecund, ripe with the rewriting of history.

Into this fecundity, Vertigo Comics released issue twelve of Douglas Rushkoff's Testament.

Douglas Rushkoff is an American media-theorist, sort of a philosopher of our digital times, who thinks long and hard about how media impacts society. He is a very bright man who says some very interesting and important things, much of which is outside the purview of a column focused on bargain bin comics.

For my purposes, though, I need to bring up Rushkoff's 2003 book, Nothing Sacred: The Truth About Judaism. The basic thesis of this polemic is that "Judaism is a religion dedicated to media literacy." It is a religion, like almost all others, that is based on texts which have been brought into societal consciousness as being a set of rules, tenets, and historical events. But for Rushkoff, as he states in a 2005 interview with Comic Book Resources, “(I)t's actually the story of a revolution-- both of a bunch of people, and of human consciousness. It's a proposition for an open source reality and a set of guidelines for how to break the news to real people who love to believe in idols."

Rushkoff sees the core text of religion as being the transferring medium that creates a particular perception of reality which adherents view as truth. If the media is altered, the perception of reality it has spawned is altered too, and what passes for truth is newly understood.

These sorts of pronouncements can get a person in some serious trouble, especially with an entrenched organization whose very livelihood rests on a particular set of “truths.”

Rushkoff goes on to say in the CBR interview, “I learned early on in life that if you have something that might be truly dangerous to say, say it in comics.”

And this brings us to our bargain bin Testament #12 and some serious mind-fuckery.

Testament #12 opens with a rather lush splash page:

Here we have a melding dance, a sexual congress, between Astarte, a goddess associated with fertility and war, and Krishna, the avatar of Vishnu. From what they are saying on this page, their intercourse is a source of conflict. For Astarte, by mingling such as this, they are confusing a sacred story which will negatively impact the worshipers of this tale. For Krishna, though, this is what gods do, break boundaries and define order.

But apparently these are just Krishna's tired old pick-up lines (and he's one smooth operator), because he seems to contradict himself quickly by the end of the page.

Astarte and Krishna are playing for different teams and their “star-crossed” shenanigans are upsetting to the team leaders. Astarte seems to be playing for the team led by Moloch and Atum-Ra who are all about fucking up the dominant role of the “unnamed god” of the Judeo-Christian reality. On the other team, Krishna's team, the team captains are Elijah and “unnamed floaty beardy guy.”

Everybody is upset because Krishna and Astatre doing the beast with two backs dance is a “threat to the story” which is already “in such disarray.”

Are you confused? Just wait... there's more.

There's another story-line in Testament #12. This one revolves around some sort of near-future dystopia which is on the brink of “World Government, police state, total surveillance.” The powers that be are implanting chips in people in order to track them and turn them into happy little zombies. There's a Resistance Movement, though, of course (as there is wont to be in the face of fascism). Jake and his buddies are removing the chips, dropping off the “grid,” and fighting back.

It's pretty confusing stuff though, and Rushkoff throws out all kinds of near-future world jargon like “mana upgrade,” “NATS,” and “NARNS” without really helping me figure out what these things are. Then again, this is issue twelve in the series and I'm pretty sure this has all been explained before.

I blame myself.

Anyway, there is a lot of stuff going on in this story-line.

None of it seems good.

But I'm not sure how Jake and his buddies fit in with the whole sex of the gods thing earlier in the comic.

Then this happens:

Now we've got a third story-line to complete the triad. This one seems more directly tied to the first Gods story in the book and it has to do with Biblical events being re-imagined/relived/retooled. Astarte, Moloch, Elijah, and “unnamed floaty beardy guy” are confused. Suddenly the events of the Bible are not playing out the way they were written, exactly.

From what I can gather, this story-line has to do with the whole Abraham, Issac, and Jacob thingy from the Bible, but I am rather lax on my Old-Testament scholarship (sorry, Mom), so I get a little confused here. But then again, I've been a little confused since I turned to page one in this book.

I am heartened, at least, that the deities from the first story-line seem to share my confusion.

The comic then jumps back to Jake and the gang trying to avoid getting captured by the authorities. They hop on a boat captained by a bald guy with a big gun.

Then all three story-lines converge on one page forming a triple layer Oreo cookie of mind-fuckery.

Krishna's diddling has changed the text of Torah which is having some sort of influence on the events of the near-future dystopia. “The archetypes have been confused,” which is a source of great consternation on the part of team Krishna (although Krishna himself seems rather nonchalant about the whole thing). Elijah's words at the bottom of the page, though, seem to be pointing directly to Rushkoff's overall theme for this series.

“Humans must never learn that the text keeps changing....”

And you can imagine why this must be. If a society has based its entire moral structure around an agreed upon set of truths that they have garnered from a specific text (media) subsequently finds out that the text is fluid and the truths are arbitrary, then structural implications of their entire society must therefore be called into question.

The result can only be chaos. At least initially.

It is also an opportunity for a new text based truth to emerge, a new media campaign to deliver the values of that society.

And this may not be a particularly good thing.

Astarte and Krishna seem to be deliberating this point as well.

Astarte has been trying to destroy the media through which society has cobbled its understanding of reality. Is she offering a higher, more “true” understanding of reality? Or is she just destroying for the sake of destruction? I can't figure this out. She and her team obviously have an issue with the “faceless, nameless god” of the current reality-structure. Is their motivation to replace Judeo-Christian reality with a reality-structure based on their own will?

The comic jumps back to Jake and his fellows afloat on their boat, trying to figure out what's what with all the “what's that” going on. They seem to be unaffected by the Bible rewrite and God-pompous party going on. Their immediate concern is that they are floating on a boat enmeshed in the mist. Oh, and a Patrol Boat headed their way.

The bald captain of the boat prepares his big gun.

But before anything can come of that, we've got “an entire village of newly circumcised men” to visit.

This whole thing is getting complicated (well... MORE complicated).

Then all the stories collide and combine in another layered Cookie.

The sons of Jacob slay the circumcised men (which is very rude). Jack stops the bald captain from shooting his big gun. And Team Astarte and Team Krishna agree that everything is totally out of control and “things must be put in their place.”

How to do this?

Wake Marduk from his slumber.

That can't be a good thing.

But it certainly is a dramatic way to end a comic book.

So there's that.

Whew......

In the aforementioned CBR interview, Douglas Rushkoff says, “Fact is, the Bible can be used as a set-in-stone sacred and unchangeable viewpoint, or it can be used as the entrance to an utterly open source perspective on reality. As I see it, these stories give people the tools they need to begin to confront life and reality in a very open, evolutionary fashion. To me, the Bible makes a case for evolution-- not creationism. And it's important that I expose people to this side of things, before they completely dismiss this stuff as irrelevant or sanctimonious."

OK, I get this, Mr.Rushkoff. You are trying to force us to examine the “truths” that we take for granted and, through this process, hopefully come to understand that not only can we easily be manipulated through this wholesale buy-in, but that this a priori acceptance of these “truths” blinds us to other possibilities.

Texts that we as a society have agreed upon as being “sacred” are the most powerful media outlets going, as they carry with them an unmitigated gravitas. It is this “sacredness” of the texts themselves that so easily lend themselves to abuse in a very dehumanizing way.

Mr. Rushkoff, these are truly important statements – dangerous, revolutionary statements – and I applaud you for taking this on, especially within the confines of a popular culture medium such as comic books.

But why you have to make it so confusing, eh?

Using media to comment on the influence of media is always a slippery slope, especially when the medium you choose to make your commentary is one which is often seen as the purview of soft entertainment. How you are supposed to peddle big ideas in small panels?

Maybe this is why Testament #12 ended up in the bargain bin...

I know I am speaking out of turn here. This is, after all, issue number twelve of the series and I fell into this whole experience without any prior knowledge with which to guide me through. It behooves me to seek out the larger context before I make any sort of judgments.

Luckily for me, Vertigo has collected the entire twenty-two issue run of Testament into four trade paperbacks.

Luckily for me, Christmas is just around the corner.

Luckily for me, I've got all these loyal fans out there who are currently asking themselves, “What can I get Daniel for Christmas this year?”

I dig me some of them there big ideas. They blow up real good.

See you next week.

Poets You Should Know -- JON DAVIS

2011-12-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

Jon Davis has his own Wikipedia entry. On it, it says, "He was born in New Haven, Connecticut and received a B.A. in English and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from the University of Montana, where he was editor of the literary journal, CutBank. He has served as Writing Program Coordinator for The Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, edited the literary journals Shankpainter and Countermeasures: A Magazine of Poetry & Ideas, and taught at the University of Montana, College of Santa Fe, and Salisbury State University. He is currently a professor at the Institute of American Indian Arts, Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Jon Davis is the author of three chapbooks and three full-length collections of poetry. He has received numerous awards for his poetry, including a Lannan Literary Award, two National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships, and the Lavan Younger Poets Award from the Academy of American Poets."

The Bait

This is not an elegy because the world is full of elegies and I am tired of consoling and being consoled. Because consolation is unsatisfying and even tenderness can do nothing to stop this loss, this dying, this viciousness among men. And god just complicates, offering justice like the cracker I place in this mousetrap. Then the frantic mouse hands pushing against the metal bar, the kicking and bucking, the fall from the shelf, more kicking, one eye bulging, the lips lifted and the little yellowed teeth clamped on the small crumb of goodness that was not goodness but something alluring and, finally, dumb-without equivalent in the human world. Just food he couldn't have. My food and what that means in the scale of human affairs. I didn't want to listen to this mouse scrabbling among the graham crackers, chewing into the can of grease, leaving a trail of greasy, orange, rice-like shits in the cabinet under the sink. I didn't want to clean those up every morning; I didn't want to be awakened in the night. I set the trap; the trap smashed his skull; he kicked awhile and he died. I tossed him, trap and all, into the dunes. But I was saying something about god and justice. I was saying this is not an elegy and why. Because pain is the skin we wear? Because joy is that skin also? Because . . . look: I had a brother and he died. I didn't cause it; I couldn't stop it. He got on his motorcycle and rode away. A car turned in front of him and that began his dying. How terrible for everyone involved. Do I sound bitter? I felt the usual guilts: Did I love him enough? Did I show it? It happened eleven years ago and what I remember: Looking out at the lawn, September and a breeze; watching him ride-flash of red gas tank, brown leather jacket; the sound of the bike; what we said, which I recall as a kind of gesture, the sound of what are you doing, some dull rhythm and see you later. The phone call. The drive to the hospital. I think I drove but I can't be sure. We drove the wrong way down a one way street and I remember feeling responsible. I cried most of the time. I knew he was dying. My brother's girlfriend asked me Why are you crying? and I couldn't say or else I sobbed It's bad I know it's bad. Then we were taken into a green room and he was dead. I curled on a red plastic chair. My body disappeared or seemed to. I was looking for my brother; a nurse called me back: Your family needs you. I came back. But why am I telling you this? Because I want you to love me? To pity me? To understand I've suffered and that excuses my deficiencies? To see how loss is loss and no elegy no quiet talk late at night among loved ones who suddenly feel the inadequacy of their love and the expression of that love can take it away? Or give it back? Perhaps even loss is lost? My brother is gone and the world, you, me, are not better for it. There was no goodness in his death. And there is none in this poem, eleven years later and still confused. An attempt, one might say, to come to terms with his death as if there was somewhere to come to, as if there were terms. But there is nowhere to come to; there are no terms. Just this spewing of words, this gesture neither therapy nor catharsis nor hopelessness nor consolation. Not elegy but a small crumb. An offering.

Poets You Should Know -- MIRIAM GOODMAN

2011-12-19T05:00:00.000-08:00

Miriam Goodman, poet, editor, photographer, and teacher, most recently studied in the Photography Atelier program of the Radcliffe and Lesley Seminars and in the evening workshop program of the New England School of Photography (NESOP).

She is the author of three books of poetry including “Commercial Traveler” 1996, Garden Street Press, “Signal: Noise” 1982, and “Permanent Wave”, 1977 Alice James Books. Her photographs have appeared, on book jackets, in literary magazines, CD packaging and on the web.

A great rememberance of her and her work can be found here.

SHOPPING TRIP

I try on clothes with you and fifty other women in a mirrored room. Down to my panty hose and bra, I step into a dress and hold my breath. The moment I know my body fails to fit, an apparition of my mother comes and warns me not to get involved with you. You're fat and sad, my mother says, wearing her half-size navy crepe, a window of lace at her breast. She also shopped for bargains.

I'm seeking our reflection in the mirrors, heavy, unsexual, trying a skin for the world. You look for slacks they can't see through. I look for skirts that hide me, yet push forward to be noticed.The stockgirls in the center of the room rehang the garments we discard like piles of novels taken back to shelve. I don't know how to dress the role you'd have me play: a women who loves sex with women.It seems to me that I look bad in everything.

I ask if your grown daughters love you. "They'd better," you say, "since I don't love myself." We are alike in this as in less hidden things and yet we look for love to make us knew. So let's get out of
here and go pick up a turkey. We could slide our hands inside the carcass, roll them in the slippery juices, thinking of each other, of delight. "Look, there's the moon," I could tell you. And I could
write you from the future: "Remember when?" I have nostalgia for this chance, and for my mother. And though I can't make love to you, I could make a turkey with her watching

Poets You Should Know - JAMES VLADIMIR GILL

2011-12-18T05:00:00.000-08:00

NOT James Vladimir Gill

JAMES VLADIMIR GILL

(1927 - 1995)

From The Prose Poem

In April, I was informed by his family that James Vladimir Gill, a contributing editor of The Prose Poem: An International Journal, died suddenly at his home in Lausanne, Switzerland. I never met James, but we had a rewarding correspondence over the last four years. He was a gifted poet, novelist and essayist, and for many years, he edited the influential literary magazine 2PLUS2. Above all, he was a gentleman. He agreed to become a contributing editor of a little-known journal, and the poets he directed my way have helped to give it stature. Moreover, he offered me invaluable advice, and never asked for anything in return. At times, to be quite frank, I have felt like giving up this

magazine, overwhelmed by the work it involves. At one of those times, I wrote James, asking him if it was all worth it. He wrote back, "Everything in our delicately balanced little life is worth it if it is worthwhile, if one can affect even in the smallest way a reader's perception beyond the prosaic, the flamboyant, the commercial, and let him touch the fleeting magic of the ineffable." He was, of course, right.

WORDS FOUND ABOVE A SWINGING GATE

Rest, head.

From a pillow recomposed fall crumpled bits of jaundiced note paper, stunned, enigmatic whispers left here, again, on a late Sunday afternoon. When? How do you write them? From what shadow of the mind do they come sauntering out, firefly prophecies?

Could they be dead flies swatted an eternity ago on the walls of constancy? See how they hang on now, precarious, encrusted wings entwined in a vine, refusing to let go.

Have you noticed how they watch us move into this Indian summer of ours, rupturing time and bone? Life to life, you once said, is a long walk in Toledo by failing light. Light enough that one can no
longer hide.

Shouldn't we then, very quietly, and please, without another kindly nod, fold ourselves to rest and be endowed with special life, like those dolls blind people make?

Cheap Thrills - COYOTE #7

2011-12-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

This column originally ran on Comics Bulletin

December 7, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
COYOTE #7
Published by: Epic Comics
Written by: Steve Englehart
Art by: Chas Truog

SOOKIN SIN!

“My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes.” It's August 1984 and the leader of the free world at the time, the venerable Ronald Reagan, spews this into a live microphone during a voice check before recording his weekly radio address. Sure the geezer is just telling a joke. Sure it's not broadcast (although later leaked). But do you remember 1984? Things were kind of tense in terms of our relationship with the Soviet Union. There were nuclear weapons pointed at each others' faces. To have the President of the United States make this kind of joke in the midst of these tensions still kinda makes my testicles retract into my abdomen.

Such was the mid-80's, though, I guess.

Hell, in August of 1984, John De Lorean got acquitted of 8 charges of possessing and distributing cocaine. Even Doc Brown was surprised.

Richard Burton died. Truman Capote died. W.A.S.P. released their debut album.

Other than The Red Hot Chili Peppers releasing Red Hot Chili Peppers, there wasn't much to howl about in August 1984.

Speaking of howling, August of 1984 was also when Epic Comics published Steve Englehart's Coyote #7.

First, a note about Epic Comics. According to everyone's favorite source of information, Wikipedia, “Launched by editor-in-chief Jim Shooter as a spin-off of the successful Epic Illustrated magazine, the Epic imprint allowed creators to retain control and ownership of their properties. Co-edited by Al Milgrom and Archie Goodwin, the imprint also allowed Marvel to publish more objectionable content (sometimes explicit) without needing to comply with the stringent Comics Code Authority. "

Second, a note about Steve Englehart. This is a man who knows what he is doing when it comes to comics, having created some definitive runs on the Avengers, Batman, Captain America, X-Men … hell, even Luke Cage.

Finally, a note about Coyote. According to the back of the front cover of Coyote #7, “Raised in the desert among supernatural spirit beings, Sylvester Santangelo has always had abilities that most humans lack – the ability to change the appearance of reality, and to dance between dimensions, above and around the solid, ordinary world. Only recently has he begun to learn who and what he truly is and where his abilities come from. The American Indians' Coyote God – once the dog of their all-powerful Great Spirit – saw that his worshipers were being gradually oppressed and exterminated by another people he could not understand – the invaders from Europe. The Coyote God worked for years to create a European who would be one of his own, a human being who could mingle with the invaders, but who embodied the powers, spirit and character of … COYOTE.”

For the last six issues of Coyote, Sly Santangelo has been fighting against something called the Shadow Cabinet, a “subversive organization of immense mystic, political, and economic power” (kinda like the Tea Party). Recently Sly/Coyote has been hanging out in Vegas doing his whole “infiltrating” thing. He has just been hired by the Shadow Cabinet to kill “the mysterious Soviet agent who is also a living weapon; X-Caliber. Instead, he captured his enemy, and now must use all of the strange abilities at his command to learn X-Caliber's secrets”

All these quick notes lead us to this:

Heh.

I'm not really sure what to say about this. It's dramatic, certainly, and I like the pun entrenched in the title of the story-line, but there's something a little wonky about this page. Perhaps it is the overabundance of parallel lines radiating from the white hole at the top of the page. Maybe it's because the perspective sort of highlights this gentleman's “package” – I don't know what it is. I do have the sense that artist Chas Truog and I are going to have some issues, though, throughout this book.

“Leathern Back”?

OK. Still. I'm not sure what to make of Truog's art so far. It seems as if he is trying to mimic a certain Southwestern sensibility to some extent, but there is something about his lines. They are messy or something and it becoming a distraction.

But to the story. X-Caliber seems to be a cowboy, a gunslinger, and he's in conflict with a Coyote. These things happen sometimes.

Four bare-chested Native American gentlemen suddenly rush X-Caliber from out of a set of swinging doors yelling “AI-YAI-YAI-YAI-YAIIIIIIIII!” X-Caliber pivots and “PLOW”s them down with “his six guns” which seem to be embeded in his right forearm. This act causes his arm to burst into flames. X-Caliber then sees a Coyote leaping from the rooftops. He adjusts his forearm so it becomes a cannon of some sort, and with a “PTOKH PTOKH” tries to blast the canis latrans.

Then this happens:

Sookin Sin? Buffaloed?

What the hell is going on here?

Well, it turns out these are all the products of some serious mind-games courtesory of one Sly Santangelo.

Excuse me, I mean COYOTE! Woot. He's “from the other side of the dance.”

Coyote and some full-lipped blonde named Cassie are trying to pry information out of X-Caliber's brain using some Native American Coyote God mind tricks. Coyote seems to be having fun with the process. Cassie just wants him to hold her.

The comic then cuts to a side story about some former Vegas prostitute named Lizette who has found both Jesus and herself alone in the Nevada desert. Coyotl, the original Coyote god, is trying to help her out while at the same time using the situation to bad-mouth the god of the Conquistadors.

Back into X-Caliber's brain, he's now shooting at attacking cacti. Suddenly, in response to the stress of hallucinating that a canis latrans is about to rip out his throat, X-Caliber reveals that he is a former agent of the Soviet KGB, and that Yuri Andropov (former head of the KGB and leader of the Soviet Union) recruited him to get his right arm removed and replaced with this cool gun thing.

Cassie uses this revelation to provide one of her own. She apparently slept with some character named Halfdome.

Coyote shows he's been watching a lot of Dr. Phil.

Apparently, though, Cassie hasn't.

OK, Truog, you've redeemed yourself in three panels. I love the way he paced Cassie's reaction to Coyote's news here.

Through some more mind tricks, Coyote finally gets X-Caliber to come clean about everything he has been hiding:

Awesome.

But I'm a little confused. It seems that from what X-Caliber reveals here, this Shadow Cabinet is actually the only thing that is saving the world from chaos. Humanity would have been destroyed by either the U.S. or the Soviets or these Wildcards were it not for the influence of the science and the sorcery of the Shadow Cabinet.

Isn't this a good thing?

What's the angle here? What am I missing?

Unfortunately, Coyote #7 doesn't want to provide me with any answers. Cassie says the Shadows are cruel. Then she accuses Coyote of the same level of cruelty (because of his enlightened and modern attitudes about human sexuality?), and then she storms off leaving Coyote and X-Caliber alone.

And then the comic ends with this:

Ouch.

At the beginning of this column, I quoted our 40th President joking about Nuclear Armageddon. Coyote #7 seems to be part of that zeitgeist, except it is adding layers of Shadow Cabinets and Native American Mythology to the inherent paranoia of the times.

Was this a way of making sense of the massive uncertainties that permeated our national consciousness? Is it a satirical look at the foibles of political conflict? Is it a “back to the purity of Native Culture” diatribe? Is it all of these? Is it none of them?

I'm confused.

I want to trust that Englehart knew what he was doing with the series, and I probably should read more of it before I either make judgments about or cast aspersions upon it. As a single piece of entertainment, though, especially one that I invested my hard earned two-bits to procure, it muddies the waters so heavily that it ends up parching more than hydrating (or have I completely convoluted my metaphor here).

The mid-80's were a time of great prosperity for America, certainly, but it was also a time when we all wandered about with the nagging sense that the annihilation of humanity as a result of a nuclear conflagration could happen at any moment.

In the mid-80's we learned in school that hiding under our desks in the event of a nuclear explosion would be about as effective as using two rolls of toilet paper as a raincoat in a monsoon. We learned that even if the blast didn't kill us, either the radiation or the Nuclear Winter surely would. This was the constant in my upbringing (that and the many iterations of Menudo), and I have the sense that it played a pivotal role in the formation of the much-hyped Generation X malaise.

It was also, I think, what made me turn to comics as an escape.

But I'm not sure how Coyote #7 fits into all this.

Which leads me back to the questions I was asking above: Was this comic a way of making sense of the massive uncertainties that permeated our national consciousness? Is it a satirical look at the foibles of political conflict? Is it a “back to the purity of Native Culture” diatribe? Is it all of these? Is it none of them?

I can't wrap my head around an answer. But this uncertainty may be one of the best by-products of this book, because, if nothing else, it has certainly made me think and question.

And sometimes, that's what we should expect from our entertainment.

Especially for fifty cents.

See you next week.

Poets You Should Know -- JOHN BRADLEY

2011-12-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

John Bradley was born in Brooklyn. He grew up in Germany, Massachusetts, Nebraska, New York, and Minnesota (Wayzata!). His itinerant childhood was a result of his traveling salesman father. He has always loved books. Music is a big influence upon him. The lyrics of bands like The Beatles and The Doors made him want to start writing poetry. He has published a number of collections of poetry and also has taught at Northern Illinois University.

THE ACCIDENT

Spud, that was her name. It said so in black ink on the strip of adhesive tape stuck to the front of her pink and white checked shirt. Spud. I had just rolled over a little girl named Spud.
I was backing the car, this old Sportabout wagon. The car picked up speed, the brakes couldn't slow it down, and the back window was so fogged I couldn't see anything. The car kept going faster and I did it. I rolled over something. It felt like squash, something starting to rot. Then the car stopped.
He came running up to the car, this man with the little girl in his arms. He looked Japanese, but I wasn't sure. He said nothing, not a word, but he had this look on his face. He wanted to cry and he wanted to kill me. I don't blame him.
He brought the girl to the driver's door. But I wouldn't open it. I reached back to the door behind me, unlocking it. I didn't want him to place the girl in my lap. No, anything but that.
That's when I saw her name. He placed her on the back seat. And I saw it. Spud, it said. She was blond, five or six years old. Maybe this man had adopted her, or maybe he was simply looking out for her today.
In his hand, I could see he held something. Something for the little girl? No, a can of mace. He sprayed me in the face. I knew he had to.

Convenient Truths -- OBJECTIFIED

2011-12-15T05:00:00.000-08:00

This column originally ran on Comics Bulletin

Today he found 2009's Objectified by Gary Hustwit.

Objectified is a documentary about industrial design, the products and the people behind them. It is also a film about our relationship with the objects around us, both in how we use them to define ourselves, as well as interact with the world. It is also about the unintended consequences of the preponderance of objects in our lives.

This is a beautiful movie. Objectified seems to be as much a product of careful design intention as the objects which it celebrates. There is a clean sleekness to the film that allows the narrative to flow in a seamless manner. The story of Objectified is told through a series of interviews with some of the top designers in the industry, people whose names and faces you may not recognize, but many of their designs have permeated our culture to such an extent that the products themselves have almost reached an iconic place in our consciousness.

Objectified gives its audience some historical perspective on the field of industrial design, originating from the need to mass produce arrows for ancient Chinese archers. Design has become so pervasive now, though, that nearly every man made object you come in contact with in your daily life was first part of someone's presentation to a manufacturer. Take a look around you right now. From the device upon which you are reading this column, to the glass you keep your beverage in, to the phone nearby, to the clock on the wall, to the chair you are sitting upon, to the clothes on your back, all of it was designed by someone. How it looks, how you interact with it, and, more importantly, how you feel about the object are all the result of the decisions of the designer. As the movie says, “Everything that fills the world has been designed.”

Designers make our stuff. The greater the emotional bond you have with your stuff, the more the designer of your stuff has succeed at his or her job.

The easier and more intuitive it is to accomplish what you want your stuff to do, ostensibly the reason you purchased that stuff, the better designed it is.

Good design allows us to use our stuff to send a message to the larger society about the kind of person we want others to perceive us as. The aesthetic of the object becomes the aesthetic of our selves. As one of the designers in Objectified intimates, objects can be our avatars. You purchase stuff carrying with you an idea of an audience in your head, and judge your stuff whether or not it makes the kind of statement about who you are that you wish to portray.

In the end, Objectified ends up being a celebration of stuff and the commodification of the individual. The more we surround ourselves with stuff, it seems to me, the less of our own humanity we actually express. The objects become the message we convey. Instead of through ideas or actions, we are now able to make assumptions about individuals based solely on the stuff with which they surround themselves.

And then there is the other issue about design that the film does a cursory job acknowledging. Design is done with the intention of selling the product. Companies use design to get people to buy their stuff. In our culture, there is this constant drive to get the newest, latest, best stuff and design fosters this drive. So companies produce more and more stuff and consumers buy more and more stuff. In fact, our entire economy is based on this principle to a certain extent. Industrial design is at the heart of profit.

Have you ever wondered why there are so many self-storage places cropping up all over your neighborhood? My sense is that people have already filled up their living spaces with stuff and need to rent an apartment for the rest of their stuff.

It's kind of gross, if you ask me, and can be seen as a true reflection of this commodification of the individual about which I have been talking.

And it all starts with design.

Objectified brings up the point that most of the industrial design work that designers do is for the 10% of the world's population that already has too much stuff. It points to the fact that much of the design work of the past is now populating landfills all over the country. The film begins to talk about the fact that sustainability is one of the most important aspects of modern design, otherwise we are all doomed to be buried in our stuff.

And this, I think, is why this documentary is important. It is a springboard to a larger discussion.

Now don't get me wrong. I appreciate the beauty of a well designed object. I will freely admit to coveting a couple of Crate and Barrel Bookshelves they have in their Holiday Catalog, as well as my neighbor's I-Pad 2.

But am I willing to start defining myself by my stuff?

How much stuff do I need to complete the image of myself that I wish to project?

Or does my stuff actually start to influence who I see myself as and how I interact with the world?

Watching Objectified raises these sorts of questions. At least it did for me.

As economic realities begin to make people reassess their priorities, perhaps one of the things they should be considering is all their stuff.

Trailer for the film:

Clip from the film:

Get To The Point.

2011-12-14T05:00:00.000-08:00

Hero from Miguel Endara on Vimeo.

Poets You Should Know -- MARK CUNNINGHAM

2011-12-13T05:00:00.000-08:00

Mark Cunningham's poems have appeared in recent issues of Alice Blue and Dusie. He's had two chapbooks published, including one on the Mudlark Web site (2002) and one of the Right Hand Pointing Web site (2006). Tarpaulin Sky Press will be bringing out a book, tentatively titled Body Language, a sort of diptych containing two serparate collections, one titled Body (on parts of the body) and one titled Primer (on numbers and letters).

HAY

Every time, almost every time I put a biscuit of shredded wheat,
the big ones that come in four or six to a package, into a bowl and pour
milk on it, I watch the milk filter through the brittle chunk and think of
a bale of hay. Lion's-mane-tan. In a stubble field. Whenever I see a
bale of hay I feel the urge to bite into it, feel its dry scour, slightly
sweet. I could eat the cows that eat the hay but I don't like meat so I
think of big swirled cinnamon rolls, or remember that when I die my
body might crumple into soil that feeds the grass that becomes hay:
that's a difference between me and hay, I'll never know what becomes
of my body after I'm dead, I'm always before, but hay is after, hay
isn't hay until it's dead grass. Heraclitus was right, fire drives all things.
No wonder Monet painted hay, stack after stack in fields of snow, in
dry morning sun, in late afternoon slant, shine soaking into haystacks
and cathedrals, over and over, before he moved to the pond, the clouds,
all things moving, in flux. I like the haystacks best in late summer,
noon glare already starting to cool, warmth shrinking from general to
specific, I like the hay where a cricket calls, my hair in the sun. Po
Chu-i was glad to go bald, it was a weight, literally, off his mind, he
could see why Buddhist monks shaved their heads before starting on
the path away from all the things that were burning, burning, but the
only part of growing old I regret is that my hair is thinning, in a year or
two I'll become one of those men who sweep a long swath over their
bare scalp, fooling no one. Still, I'll be able to feel the sun in my hair
a little longer, warm and close, the way it must linger in haystacks
those mild afternoons after the first frost. That's why those men comb
their hair that way. I'm sure of it

The Other Men I Could Be

2011-12-12T05:00:00.000-08:00

Google Image Search. Use it to find yourself.

Vascular surgery's evolution at Emory University School of Medicine began with Dr. Daniel Elkin's 1930-1955 tenure as the first Chair of the Department of Surgery. An Emory graduate who completed his surgical residency at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston under the mentorship of Dr. Harvey Cushing, Dr. Elkin can rightfully be considered — along with Dr. Rudolph Matas — one of the original fathers of vascular surgery in the United States.

Daniel Elkin -- Guest Service Associate at the Orlando International Resort Club and graduate of the University of Central Florida's Hospitality Program.

The Lab family celebrate Estella and Eugene's 50th wedding anniversary [1993]

top l-r: Kenneth Elkin, Daniel Elkin (age 16), Eugene G. Lab, Jr., Charles Lab

middle row, l-r: Barbara (Lab) Elkin, Jill Elkin (age 18), Deborah Elkin (age 12), Dinae Lab (wife of Eugene Lab Jr.), Cindy Lab (wife of Charles)

front row, l-r: Eugene G. Lab, Sr., Estella Lab, Ashley Lab (age 11), Stephanie Lab (age 13) [daughters of Charles and Cindy Lab]

Jack M. Barrack Hebrew Academy 2010 Class Officers: (l. to r.) Elisheva Yondorf, president; Daniel Elkin, vice-president; Judith Zwillenberg, treasurer; and Eli Taichman, secretary.

Rabbi Daniel Elkin -- Beth Israel Congregation -- Kingston, Ontario

PHOTO UNAVAILABLE

Daniel Elkin - Yale Whiffenpoof Class of 1916

This guy?

Hello Cellos.

2011-12-11T05:00:00.000-08:00

Molly Crabapple's Week In Hell

2011-12-10T05:00:00.000-08:00

Molly Crabapple's Week in Hell from Brainwomb on Vimeo.

In September of 2011 artist/illustrator Molly Crabapple locked herself in a hotel room in New York City, covered the walls in paper and set about covering that paper with art. Funded with an impressive Kickstarter campaign Molly drew 270 feet of art over the course of a week. A week filled with musicians, performers, press, absinthe and drawing.

Cheap Thrills - MOBY DUCK #21

2011-12-09T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

THIS COLUMN ORGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN.

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

November 30, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
MOBY DUCK #21
Published by: Whitman Comics
Written by: Vic Lockman(?)
Art by: Kay Wright

OH, SCUTTLE ME DUFFLEBAG!

December 1975 was a time of duality. While Carlos the Jackal kidnapped delegates at the OPEC conference in Vienna, Punk magazine released its inaugural issue with a drawing of Lou Reed on the cover.

Speaking of Lou Reed, in December 1975 he released his album Coney Island Baby. As a counterpoint, The Bay City Rollers released Wouldn't You Like It.

One Day at a Time premiered on CBS and foisted Valerie Bertinelli into wet dreams of teenage boys across the country. To provide the Yang to this Yin, the writer Thornton Wilder died.

In the strangest juxtaposition of them all, December of 1975 saw the formation of the band Iron Maiden and the birth of Milla Jovovich.

Into this heady brew of duelism, though, a singular event was shot across the national bow. This event was the publication of Moby Duck #21.

Thirty-six years later, I close my eyes (only for a moment, and then the moment's gone), reach into the bargain bin at my local comic shop, and grab hold of a rather worn copy of Moby Duck #21, missing its first two pages.

Luckily for me (and you), Moby Duck #21 has two stories contained within its cover. The first story, the one missing the pages, concerns Moby's tribulations with a “Two-Faced Buccaneer”. The second story in this comic remains intact and is called “The Dread Sea Adventure.” It is this story that shall be the focus of this installment of Cheap Thrills.

By way of background, Moby Duck was part of the Disney Duck Family. His first appearance in comics was in Donald Duck #112. He is a Whaler (more on that later) and had a porpoise side-kick aptly named Porpy. Moby had his own comic book for thirty issues, but then fell out of favor (more on this later), and is no longer present at the dinner table during Disney Duck Family gatherings (much to the relief of Daisy Duck, I'm sure).

The backup story, “The Dread Sea Adventure” in Moby Duck #21 begins with Moby smoking his pipe and sleeping in a hammock, having just “sold a whale.”

Nothing sort of high adventure could rouse him, hmmmm? How about Scrooge McDuck's shipment of tractor inner tubes having gone missing in the DREAD SEA? High Adventure Indeed!

See, Grandma Duck can't plow her back forty because her tractor has a flat tire. The ever miserly Capitalist McDuck wants to help her, and he has gone the foreign import route for tractor inner tubes as that is the best deal. Grandma, though, has more of conscious about these things:

Damn right, BUY LOCAL, Grandma! Does Grandma Duck get credit for instigating the Buy Local Movement? I never hear her mentioned. It must have something to do with her close ties to Corporate Fat Cat Scrooge McDuck and his media-spin machine.

According to the comic, it turns out that the foreign shipment of tractor inner tubes was pirated by a “Sheik Chieftan and his band” who harpooned the ship and dragged it to land.

This fact fills McDuck with a greed induced rage (the worst kind of rage), and he confronts the captain of his boat:

Is “Cock-A-Doodle-Doo” actually one word? Is it even a word? And just look at all that sweat flying and fists waving! These are stressful matters. Precious cargo has been pirated and money has been lost!

Grandma then asks the all important question:

All the double entendre jokes I could make here aside, this is the moment of “High Adventure” strong enough to lure Moby Duck out of his Whale Selling reverie! He swings in to offer his assistance (for a 10% cut, of course – this Duck ain't no fool after all). Grandma Duck shows her starch by accompanying Moby on his tractor inner tube recovery mission as his hired hand (this Duck ain't no fool either).

With Porpy the Porpoise “HARNK”-ing the lead, Moby and Grandma set sail into the Dread Sea. The Dread Sea lies between two countries governed by “Fierce Bedouin Chieftans” on either side. As, Moby and Grandma sail into the Sea, Moby takes out his telescope and points it towards the South Side of the Sea, where he spies “Peaceful-Looking Camel Raisers.”

OK, I finally have to interrupt this narrative with some bile. First off, let's talk about why nobody seems to be interested in Moby Duck anymore. To begin, there is the fact that he made his living through the practice of Whaling. Moby Duck has got a big old harpoon gun on the front of his boat which he uses to shoot a big old harpoon into a whale so he can kill it and sell its dead carcass to whoever wants to buy it, a practice no longer in vogue, to say the least. Second, Moby goes around calling Bedouin's “Camel Raisers” which is about as politically correct as being a Whaler (unless, apparently, you are running for the Republican nomination in this Presidential election).

Let's face it, Moby Duck is just not good for Disney's image anymore. You will be hard pressed nowadays to find a little toe-headed gap toothed child who would pester his or her parents incessantly to purchase him or her the Whaling Racist licensed products (not to say that these children don't exist, just saying you would be hard pressed to find them). And Disney, ultimately, is all about the money. They'll tell you they are all about bringing joy, happiness, and entertainment – but this is a enormous corporation and Moby Duck just don't have the ROI anymore.

So Goodbye, Moby Duck (It seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind).

Back in the comic, though, the South Side isn't the problem, baby – so what's goin' on North Side.

“Oh-Oh, Heave Ho...”

That just happened.

After Grandma Duck goes all Greenpeace on Moby's ass above, what else is he going to say except, “Scuttle Me Dufflebag”? That's what I always say when Greenpeace calls me during dinner asking for money.

So anyway, the North Side Bedouins (remember them from The Warriors?) don't care that Moby and Grandma aren't carrying any cargo. They are looking for “Windy-Mouth Helpers” instead.

Why?

Once again, putting aside all of the double entendre jokes I could be making here, the North Side Bedouins demand that Moby and Grandma inflate those Tractor Inner Tubes recently commandeered.

Moby and Grandma “spend a huffing and puffing afternoon inflating inner tubes,” but are unclear as to the goal behind this endeavor.

The North Side Bedouin Chieftain tells them they want the tubes on their stallions.

It's not what you think (Man, you have a dirty mind).

What he means is this:

As Moby and Grandma commence the stallion tubing, the North Side Bedouin Chieftain spies the South Side Bedouins observing this strange behavior. In an attempt to mask their real diabolical scheme, the North Side Bedouins do this:

Stallion Bump-'Em!

Man, PETA must hate this comic.

As the sun sets on this new Olympic Sport, Moby and Grandma take this opportunity to sneak off. They hop on the back of Porpy (NOT a double-entendre) and go South Side over to the “Camel-Raisers” to warn them of “the coming invasion on horse-back by sea.”

Honestly, in all my life, I never thought I would type the phrase “the coming invasion on horse-back by sea.” Then again, I should have paid more attention to Lyle Lovett.

Anyway, the South Side Camel-Raisers have very little in the way of a defense budget (being a Camel-Raising based economy), so Moby and Grandma take it upon themselves to meddle in the affairs of the Middle-East (this comic is becoming more and more politically incorrect with each passing panel).

The North Side Bedouins high-tail it from what they see as the superior fire-power of the South Side. As they are horse-back retreating by sea, Porpy pops the tubes with his teeth (literally – man, you have a dirty mind), and does the proverbial “kicking a Bedouin when he's down” trick. Like a true American.

Moby and Grandma load up the Tractor Inner Tubes and sail back to McDuck triumphant. But McDuck ain't pleased to see them. As it is all about the Benjamins for McDuck, he is insensed that some of the tubes are punctured (a la Porpy).

So the comic ends with this:

HARNK! HARNK!

Actually, the comic ends with an ad for 11 1/2” Fashion Dolls that Do Fun Things (Dusty and Skye), but that is for a different column some day.

Now what can I say about Moby Duck #21 to wrap up this column?

For fifty cents I was amused, bemused, abused, and confused by this comic. As what passed for entertainment targeted to kids in the mid-70's, Moby Duck #21 sure does help explain why my generation has the political guilt that it does. When you find yourself, as part of your entertainment, rooting for a Pipe-Smoking, Racist, Capitalist Whaler in your formative years, you end up questioning quite a bit as you age as to what your priorities are.

Somehow we all made it through though, right?

Somehow many of us were able to put aside these Disney Duck tales and turn our focus on better Duck role-models.

You know, like Destroyer Duck .

At least I never said anywhere in this column that Moby Duck #21 got me all “Ducked Up”.

See you next week.

Existenialism

2011-12-08T05:00:00.000-08:00

Existentialism.

2011-12-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

SCIENCE!

2011-12-06T05:00:00.000-08:00

Everything Is Better With Puppets

2011-12-05T05:00:00.000-08:00

The Narrative of Victor Karloch [Official Trailer] from Kevin McTurk on Vimeo.

All We Ever Wanted Was Everything.

2011-12-04T05:00:00.000-08:00

Dali talks to Mike Wallace while Mike Wallace smokes Parliaments

2011-12-03T05:00:00.000-08:00

Convenient Truths -- IF A TREE FALLS: A STORY OF THE EARTH LIBERATION FRONT

2011-12-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

Today I found 2011's If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front, produced and directed by Marshall Curry and Sam Cullman.

If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front is ostensibly about the Earth Liberation Front (ELF), a “leaderless international coalition of radical environmental groups” formed in the 1990's as a response to the the Environmental Movement's inability to gain any traction stopping the wholesale destruction of the natural world by corporations in their quest for greater profits. Members of the ELF began to fight against what they perceived as the rape of the environment with their own form of destruction, setting fire to timber companies, SUV dealerships, wild horse slaughterhouses, and a $12 million ski lodge in Vail, Colorado. Because of these escalating acts of arson and property damage, in March of 2001 the F.B.I. designated the ELF as the nation's number one domestic terrorist threat.

The film approaches this story through a number of angles. First and foremost is the story of Daniel McGowen. In December 2005, McGowen was arrested at his office, the same office that director Marshall Curry's wife worked in. This set the wheels of the film in motion, and Curry's prior relationship with McGowen gave him unprecedented access to him and his story while he awaited the verdict of his trial for eco-terrorism.

The film does an excellent job of tracing McGowen's development from the mild-mannered son of a New York policeman to a radical environmental activist, while at the same time documenting the rise of the ELF, but this is not the fundamental heart of the documentary.

In one of the interviews in the film, McGowen asks, “When you're screaming at the top of your lungs and no one hears you, what are you supposed to do?”

The Environmental Movement, especially in Eugene, Oregon, was finding its voice more and more marginalized by the Government, Corporations, and the larger society. The Authority's response to environmental protests were becoming more and more “jackbooted” as time went on. In one of its more unsettling moments, the documentary shows officers in the Eugene Police Department responding to protestors occupying trees that were going to be cut down to make room for a parking lot by dousing them with pepper spray and tear gas.

As one of the individuals interviewed in If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front says, “As police ramped up their presence, people's views got hardened.”

One of the outcomes of this hardening of people's views was the creation of the ELF and the organization's agenda to take the fight back to those they felt were doing the most damage.

The film gives an even-handed look at the ELF's motivations and actions. It also takes an unbiased view of what actually constitutes “terrorism” and whether the ELF's crimes fall into that category.
As Director Marshall Curry has said about the film, “There were no easy heroes or villains.” Curry consciously refrains from taking a stand on any of the issues raised in the film in order to give “an unsettling ride that shifts your sympathies and leaves you with a more nuanced view of the world.”

That's what makes this film so great. If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front lays bare the complexity of the issues it examines. It provides no easy answers because there are none. It is not a documentary offering solutions, it is a documentary that raises questions.

And these questions are as paramount today as they were then. To reiterate McGowen's query, ““When you're screaming at the top of your lungs and no one hears you, what are you supposed to do?” When your voice has been silenced by those in power, how can you be heard? When the Authorities start to use force to disrupt your discontent, what is the moral and ethical reaction?

The ELF believed that consumerism is destroying the world and their reaction was to try to destroy some of the engines of consumerism.

There is a sense today that the attitude of self-preservation and the greed of a small number of individuals in this country are directly damaging the lives of the vast majority. Some of the vast majority in this country have begun to try to make their voices heard through protest. In many situations, the Authorities have begun to respond to these protests with force. It is the same cycle as outlined in If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front. Members of the Occupy protest movement have to be asking themselves the same questions that the members of the ELF asked.

What are they supposed to do?

Trailer for the film:

Cheap Thrills - CAPTAIN AMERICA #393

2011-12-01T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

November 23, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
CAPTAIN AMERICA #393
Published by: Marvel Comics
Written by: Mark Gruenwald
Art by: Larry Alexander

AS YOU MIGHT GUESS, THIS IS NOT THE REAL THING.

Politics and sex had never been such intimate bedfellows as they were in October 1991. This was when we all got to watch the U.S. Senate Judiciary Committee interview Anita Hill about Supreme Court candidate Clarence Thomas' alleged sexual harassment of her. Children all over the nation began asking each other, “Who has put pubic hair on my Coke?”

This was also the month that Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton announced his bid for the 1992 Democratic nomination for President.

Thomas was made Justice. Clinton became President. The nation's libido was rocking.

October 1991 also saw the release of Jim Varney's comic masterpiece, Ernest Scared Stupid, into movie theaters. Public Enemy released their album Apocalypse 91 … The Enemy Strikes Black right around the same day as Vanilla Ice released Cool as Ice.

Tennessee Ernie Ford died in October 1991 at the age of 72.

Marvel Comics published Captain America #393.

It is this last fact that will be the focus of this column, as it is Captain America #393 that I pulled out of the bargain bin (instead of, thankfully, the decaying corpse of Tennessee Ernie Ford).

Captain America #393 opens with a splash that, in terms of perspective, kind of breaks my brain. Machinesmith (not to be confused with Machine Man) is standing before a green screen reaching out for my face.

Actually, what is happening is the Red Skull has been captured by some German Superhumans and is being put on trial for War Crimes in a converted airplane hanger outside of Berlin. Machinesmith, part of the Skull's “Skeleton Crew” (heh), has freed himself and is attempting to free the others.

First he frees Crossbones.

Now this is a line I would have loved for Kirk to have said in Wrath of Khan.

This bit of businesses is successful, and the rest of the crew is freed.

From what I can tell, the “Skeleton Crew” is made up of Red Skull, Crossbones, Machinesmith, and Mother Night. The German Superhumans are Lightning-Warrior, Zeitgeist, and Hauptmann Deutschland (Captain Germany). This is just for your information.

The Red Skull claims that this court is a “travesty of justice,” as he is not a German citizen, but an American.

And a bug-eyed freak.

The Skull goes on about this trial creating an “international incident” and how they must allow him to return to America.

Just then...

The Avengers.

Captain America swaggers down the aisle spouting words like, “illegal” and “no jurisdiction” and “American Citizens” and “remand them to our custody.” Needless to say, everyone is a bit confused.

When Hauptmann Deutschland demands proof that Captain America is who he says he is, Cap goes into action.

Oh my god. Did that really just happen? Captain America got carded?

Come on. I've heard the term “Card carrying member of the Avengers” before, but I didn't realize it was literal.

But somehow this is enough to convince Hauptmann Deutschland, who obviously would make a terrible bouncer.

The Avengers grab the Red Skull and the rest of the Skeleton Crew and pop them in their plane. As they fly off, we are left with Hauptmann Deutschland wondering about the protocol of this incident. He admits that he is unsettled about the whole thing.

Sometimes a Haupt should go with his gut.

Arnim Zola? Damn, I had forgotten all about you. I love it when you dance.

The Avengers are actually Zola's Bioplastoids (but then again, aren't we all), and the Avenger's Aircraft?

Doughboy.

DOUGHBOY!

The comic then shifts focus (because that is what you do after Doughboy) to the Avengers Mansion where the REAL Captain America is chatting with Paladin about saving Diamondback from the Serpent Society (which was the previous six issue story arc according to “Back Ish Maccish” in one of those corner yellow text boxes that used to show up in comics all the time – I kinda miss those a little).

There's a whole bunch of reminiscing.

Then Diamondback makes the goo-goo eyes at Cap, who returns the goo with gusto. This is setting up some other story, I'm sure, but it is just kind of annoying in the context of this single issue.

Then there's Fabian, the Avengers resident inventor, who calls Captain America “Caparino”?

Then Cap gets a call:

On his ID card? How the hell are you supposed to dial a number on that key-pad? With a toothpick?

Hauptmann Deutschland is calling to make sure the Red Skull got there “without incident.” Cap has no idea what he is talking about. Haupt yells, “Mein Gott! That accursed Skull!” and hangs up. Cap wonders if it is a prank call.

A prank call.

On his ID card.....

The comic then jumps to Washington D.C. to the offices of the Red Skull. He wants to change offices, as he no longer feels safe operating out of a building overlooking THE CAPITOL BUILDING.

Ummm...who rents an office overlooking the Capitol Building to THE RED SKULL?

When I read comics, I am very good at suspending my disbelief. But sometimes, it is so hard. This comic is really testing those limits. There better be someone getting their head smashed into something hard soon in this book or I am going to start screaming.

Just warning you.

So. Captain America has arrived in Washington to check out what is going on with the Red Skull. He lands on the roof and is about to break into the building, when Hauptmann Deutschland shows up. Haupt thinks Cap is a phoney. Cap has no idea who Haupt is.

Let the wackiness begin.

Finally some head smashing.

Actually, the action sequence here is pretty good. It's a four page battle that's got some dynamism and the deployment of ball bearings coated in oil. Kudos to artist Larry Alexander for the head smashing, and to writer Mark Gruenwald for having some balls (see what I did there....).

Haupt feels that the battle with Cap is giving the Red Skull more time to escape, so he takes matters into his own hands using a cable gun and good old gravity.

See, now that's “Breaking the Fourth Wall.”

Cap follows Haupt into the Red Skull's office, and the comic ends with this:

Heh. Awesome.

I guess when the Skull is shot in the forehead, his neck turns red.

And how do you write in block letters with blood?

Sorry, got a little nit-picky there.

You got to love the classic “bad guy slumped in a chair with a bullet hole in his head” ending, though.

Or maybe you don't – I don't want to come off as being preachy (especially after being nit-picky).

So what can I say about Captain America #393? It's not good, it's not bad, it just kind of “is”.

And that's probably why it is in the bargain bin.

And it's also a shame.

The book presents Captains of Countries (in Combat over the Capitol) who obviously have issues with Nazi war criminals, yet on rather different terms. The comic does, after all, begin with a war crimes trial. This could have been an opportunity to explore how American and German cultures have wrestled with the reality of Nazi atrocities. There could have been a cultural exchange of some sort in terms of forgiveness or understanding, but instead there were ball bearings coated in oil (which could, I guess, be symbolic of the slippery nature of the German people coming to terms with their past, but probably not).

There could have been something more to distinguish this comic.

This is not to say that there isn't a time and a place for just the plain old “superhero punching things” kind of entertainment, I'm an easy sucker for a “It's Clobberin' Time/Hulk Smash” blowing shit up real good kinda story now and again, but Captain America #393 doesn't even do that particularly well.

It just kind of “is” – and by having nothing to particularly distinguish itself, it pretty much fails to justify its existence.

A failed opportunity leads to a failed comic which leads to it languishing in the bargain bin.

Which points to one of the problems with comic books sometimes.

When readers of comics slavishly follow their favorite characters through thick and thin, comic book creators and publishers can lob a few turds into the marketplace every once in awhile without any real major repercussions. A franchise like Captain America or Batman or Spider-Man have a core audience that will get through Widening Gyres and Brand New Days and keep coming back for more.

It's like being a Cleveland Browns fan.

And that's really not fair, is it? There should be some respect for the audience, shouldn't there? Don't editors have the power to call crap, crap?

Maybe there should be a labeling system for comics? “E” for Excellent, “G” for good, and “C” for crap only a completest should buy.

It would be good for the bargain bin industry, and probably the industry as a whole......

See you next week.

Jean Giraud (Moebius) & Hugo Pratt - Tac au tac (1972)

2011-11-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

Review of SAME DIFFERENCE

2011-11-29T05:00:00.000-08:00

This review originally ran on Comics Bulletin

Originally published in 2003, the graphic novel Same Difference, by Derek Kirk Kim, has won the Eisner, Harvey, and Ignatz Awards. Now, First Second has re-released this classic in a new, redesigned hardcover edition, and it is good to have it back.

For those of you who haven't read it before, Same Difference is a story about Simon and Nancy, two “young people navigating adulthood and personal relationships.” The storytelling is immensely engaging, the characters are completely fleshed out, the art absolutely complements instead of distracts, and the pacing of the book is just about perfect.

Simon is a character who is both endearing and kind of an asshole. Nancy has this duality as well. Then again, so do most of us (all of us?). The relationship that Kirk Kim has created between the two of them is so believable that there were times that I actually thought I was eavesdropping on their conversations.

While there is not a great deal of action in Same Difference, per se, and the “plot” of the narrative is sort of secondary to the character development, I was completely immersed in the world of this book as I read it. There's guilt, there's regret, there's envy, there's alienation, there's resolution, there's forgiveness, and there's a road trip. What more do I need from my entertainment?

Oh wait, I need a Tom Waits song.

Damn, Same Difference even has that.

The story does deal with some mature issues (you know, like sex, drugs, masturbating, and pooing), so it is not really an “All-Ages” title. What it is, though, is a great story, one that certainly deserves the re-release in the hardcover format.

Kudos to First Second for that.

Same Difference is one of those comics that does just about everything right. This hardcover edition would make a great gift for almost anyone this holiday season.

Review of METAMAUS

2011-11-28T05:00:00.000-08:00

This Review originally ran on Comics Bulletin

MetaMaus is an exhaustive behind the scenes look at the creative process. Through an interview format, it examines in minutiae almost every decision Art Spiegelman made in the midst of creating his graphic novel classic, Maus. It also contains samples from his sketchbooks, photos he used during his research, and the works of other artists that Spiegelman referenced or used in his research.

It would be overwhelming, were it not absolutely engrossing.

MetaMaus is 300 pages long and is accompanied by a “hyperlinked DVD of Maus with an in-depth archive of audio interviews with (Spiegelman's) father, photos, notebooks, drawings, essays and more.” There is just no possible way you can have any questions left regarding the creation of Maus after you go through all of MetaMaus.

And this, apparently, is the point of its publication.

After finishing MetaMaus, I have come to appreciate the genius of Maus on a much deeper level. I have also come to more fully appreciate the craftsmanship and creativity of Spiegelman himself as an artist. The creation of Maus was a herculean undertaking and required constant questioning and revision in order to match the ideals Speigelman set for himself, and MetaMaus captures it all in a fascinating way.

Speigelman lays bare where he feels he failed as an artist and a story teller, as well as celebrates where he feels he succeeded. He is personable, engaging, funny, and profound throughout the entire book. But what he most succeeds with through MetaMaus is providing a clear explanation of how comics can be used to tell a story in a manner that no other media can. Speigelman remains one of the most lucid and encompassing spokespeople for the power of comics, and MetaMaus is his manifesto in this regard.

Maus is currently part of the curriculum in a number of classrooms throughout the world. MetaMaus is the perfect companion for this purpose and should absolutely be part of any unit devoted to Maus. But, as I have said already, MetaMaus is not just an academic exercise. This book is perfect for anyone wanting to work in comics, or even those already working in the field today, as it spends a great deal of its time addressing the creative process of comics creation and points to how comics can be created to their fullest potential.

MetaMaus is also perfect for anyone interested in the process of creating art of lasting value. We live in such a slap-dash society where the tools of technology have made creating things available to almost everyone. But art is not about expediency or ease, it is about decision making and clarity of purpose. And Speiegelman, in MetaMaus, shows us this.

The publication of Maus was a groundbreaking moment in the history of sequential art. It was also a great moment in American Literature. MetaMaus answers so many questions, but fundamentally it explains why this is so.

Get To Know People.

2011-11-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

Joshua loves animals. He is thoughtful. He loves his mother. They are human.

Cheap Thrills - FANTASTIC FORCE #7

2011-11-26T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

THIS COLUMN ORIGINALLY RAN ON COMICS BULLETIN

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

November 16, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
FANTASTIC FORCE #7
Published by: Marvel Comics
Written by: Tom Brevoort and Mike Kanterovich
Art by: Dante Bastianoni

I THINK I LEFT MY STOMACH IN MY OTHER PANTS!

In May, 1995, 35-year-old unemployed plumber and U.S. Army veteran Shawn Nelson stole a M6O Patton tank from the US Armory in San Diego and went on a rampage. He destroyed cars, fire hydrants, and an RV. Then the police shot him dead.

Die Hard With a Vengeance comes to theaters in May, 1995.

Sega released the Sega Saturn console in North America in May, 1995.

Matlock, Blossom, AND Full House are all canceled in May, 1995.

As a proponent of writers respecting the intelligence of their audiences, I will leave it up to you to make the connection between these seemingly disparate events (you're welcome). But, before you do, let me just add one more piece to this puzzle.

In May of 1995, Marvel Comics released Fantastic Force #7.

As I have mentioned many times before, I had all but given up reading mainstream comics in the 1990's. Fantastic Force #7 is ANOTHER example of why that was.

A matter of fact, I had no idea there even WAS a Fantastic Force. Ever. And there is still a chunk of my soul that wishes I had never gained this knowledge. I'll explain that shortly.

I'm shooting from the hip here, but my assumption is that Fantastic Force was cobbled together out of that same sort of Teen Titans/X-Men/Youngbloods marketing brain aneurysm that seems to be a pop culture standard: “How do we stay relevant, hip with the kids, and able to tap into the demographic with the highest disposable income?” Make heroes out of teens! It's a gestalt that has brought us such wonderful things as Menudo, Teen Mom, Matter-Eater Lad, and Jim Shooter.

Quality stuff, all of it.

But this is a discussion for another time. I've got a bargain bin comic to concentrate on right now: Fantastic Force #7.

So my first question is, who are the Fantastic Force?

You can tell a lot about the quality of a comic by the effort the creators put in to coming up with the names of its protagonists. Psi-Lord, Huntara, Vibraxas, and Devlor? Oh my.

And then, of course, there is the background story. This is from Marvel's own Wiki :

Seeking a cure for his grandson's fluctuating powers, Nathaniel Richards kidnapped young Franklin from his parents, the Fantastic Four's Reed and Sue Richards, and took him to Warlord Kargul's Elsewhen dimension. Kargul's blacksmiths forged a suit of armor for young Franklin, allowing him greater control of his powers; he then spent years training, eventually becoming Psi-Lord. Nathaniel had also brought his daughter Tara to Elsewhen and she received special training as well, becoming the great warrior Huntara. Appearing before his parents seconds after he had been taken as a child, the adult Franklin attempted to prevent his mother's return to her Malice persona--previously created by an artificial Hate-Monger and given substance during the Infinity War--by absorbing it himself. Later returning to Elsewhen to petition Kargul for help in defeating the evil Dark Raider (an alternate Reed Richards from Earth-944), Psi-Lord, joined by Huntara, instead was forced to fight their way out of the dimension. Psi-Lord infected the Dark Raider with the Malice personality, then watched as Aron the Watcher, posing as Uatu, banished the Raider into space. When the Fantastic Four disbanded, Psi-Lord and Huntara, hoping to continue their family's legacy, joined with the young Inhuman Devlor and Wakandan hothead Vibraxas as the Fantastic Force.

Got all that? I think you're now ready to come along with me on the Magic Carpet Ride through Fantastic Force #7.

When the first words of a comic are “Sometimes, Accidents Happen.” it really primes my pump for loathing. Brevoort and Kanterovich are already apologizing for this comic before it even begins (yet, in that clever Reaganesque use of the passive voice, deflecting the blame from themselves – well played, sirs).

So Vibraxas has killed a guy in self-defence and he's all butt-hurt about it. Huntara rubs it in and Devlor uses it as an excuse to distance himself more from Vibraxas. This is character development, people. Pay attention!

The team heads home, and we get this scene:

“Air-Mail him a notice...”? “Bargain-basement Godzilla...”? “Guy in a rubber suit...”? Reading this comic is going to hurt me, mommy, isn't it?

It turns out that the intruder is none other than “Lyja, the bride of the Human Torch” (her words not mine), who tells the team this whole story about how she and the Human Torch are no longer a couple, but she's been stalking him in the guise of Laura Greene (“in the hope of effecting a reconciliation” – her words, not mine – and kinda creepy). She and the Torch were on an archaeological dig when the “flaming apparition of Susan Richards materialized” to warn them of danger. This heralded the disappearance of the Fantastic Four (not Force, Four).

Just as Vibraxas starts to question her, this same flaming Susan Richards appears before the team (how convenient) to tell the Fantastic Force that they must save the Fantastic Four on the moon.

The moon. Of course.

Just as the Fantastic Force is about to head to the moon, Huntara asserts herself.

A quick note about Huntara. While it is refreshing to see a strong female character in a comic, it is beyond me why she has to be showing so much of her ass while talking like that prodigious home-school kid whose social awkwardness manifests itself in an extensive vocabulary and the inability to read social cues. Complex characterization or cliché driven laziness? You decide.

She does use the word “behoove,” though, which does make her kind of sexy.

Still, thank goodness she has a Psionic Scythe. Not only is it convenient for figuring things out and an easy device to forward the plot, but it is also awesomely alliterative.

The Scythe takes them to the source of the flaming Susan Richards, Latveria – home of Dr. Doom. The team beats up some Doom-bots (de rigueur in a Marvel Comic), looking for Doom himself.

As an aside: if there are any comic creators reading this column right now, why have we not had a Doom-bot comic? Think of the possibilities on this one. I'm just sayin'.

After carving through the Doom-bots, the team finally gets to confront their true nemesis.

It's not Dr. Doom at all, but Grandpa! Nice little Shyamalan there, Brevoort.

Apparently there are some family “issues” between Daddy and daughter.

So the two of them have this little “Electra Syndrome” moment which Bastianoni uses as an extremely creepy and inappropriate time to give his audience a Huntara “beaver shot” (stay classy, Bastianoni).

Huntara takes down her dad, but before she can complete the final step in the patricide polka, Psi-Lord stops her and gives Grandpa a chance to explain himself.

Gramps goes into this story about the Fantastic Four fighting a rogue Watcher and a menace of a “Cosmic Scope,” and, how, without the help of the Fantastic Force, they will not survive. Psi-Lord has buy-in.

Thank goodness for the Trans-mat device and its ability to dispatch proper coordinates. Could you imagine what the plot would be like without it?

Wait... is that Ant-Man in the panel above? Was Ant-Man part of the Fantastic Four at one point? Man, those guys will take anyone.

Oh yea, and there is Dr. Doom with everyone. But it's not Dr. Doom. It's Kristoff Vernard “Rightful heir to the Throne of Latveria,” who just happens to dress exactly like Dr. Doom.

Oh, the 90's decade, you did such wonderful things with comic book continuity. Thank you for alienating millions of new readers.

Nobody can figure out how to save Susan Richards from the “Explosive Area of the Negative Zone” (which, thankfully, they now make a bismosal for). Nobody, that is, except for “A Warrior of Elsewhen.”
Huntara uses her scythe because, with it, “the whole of time and space is but a pond, to be skipped cross at will!”

How convenient.

Huntara and Susan Richards apparently have some “sister-in-law issues.” Can you imagine Thanksgiving at the Richards' house? Talk about tension!

Still, Huntara saves Susan with the aid of some serious sound effects.

I would like to take a moment to announce that from this image alone, fellow Comics Bulletin contributor Kyle Garret (@Kylegarret) was able to identify that this was from a Fantastic Force comic. That's pretty amazing. Kyle obviously needs to get out more. He wins the first ever Cheap Thrills Social Media Experiment Contest. Congratulations, Kyle.

Back in the comic, the Four and the Force, both of whom are Fantastic, decide that the only way to defeat whatever major completely ill-defined universe threatening thing they are battling is to voyage into the Cosmic Rift. The only way to do so is to access “The Watcher's Trans-spacial Deliverance System” which leads to this:

He left his stomach in his other pants?

“Passing through the event-horizon” gives them access to the final two-page splash.

Leaving us hanging from the proverbial “cliff,” as it were.

My prediction: Ant-Man will put everything right.

So what can I say about Fantastic Force #7 to intellectually justify my having spent all this time writing about it? Is there some larger theme about the nature of the universe, the dysfunction of families, the self-doubt inherent in heroism, or the classic dualism between appearance and reality that I can pluck from the top of this garbage heap?

I say thee, NAY.

Maybe there is something there, but it will take a better man than I to over-intellectualize it.

For me, Fantastic Force #7 is just another example of how the quest for profit destroys the intentions of art. The concept behind this title only ensured its craptitude.

And writer Tom Brevoort was well aware of this. According to the internet, there is a blog post out there that Brevoort did some time ago about his stint on Fantastic Force. The title of the post is, “Still Bad After All These Years.” Unfortunately I can't find it, otherwise I would be linking it here. If anyone else can find it, please send me the link.

The title of the post, though, says a lot.

This comic originally retailed at $1.75. I paid fifty cents for it. While I certainly saved some money, I still feel entirely ripped off.

Sometimes the reason a comic ends up in the Bargain Bin is because it is just plain crap.

See you next week.

Poets You Should Know -- DAVID GREENSLADE

2011-11-25T05:00:00.000-08:00

David Greenslade is from Cefn Cribbwr near Porthcawl. He has been described as a 'genuinely original voice', a 'radical nonconformist', 'avant garde' and 'relentlessly modern'. As well as teaching and travelling in the Middle East, David spent three years in Japan and four years in the United States.

SPEAK UP

When a man does the shopping he makes a few mistakes. First, he buys a thousand stalks of broccoli. It was fresh, reduced and he wished he had a family to feed. Choosing bread, he pours wine across the blades of his plough. But there are bandits in the wheat and he left his rifle in the car. Buying a few slices of ham he is amazed at the purposeful faces of the women. They know where every penny goes, they also know a hoarder when they see one. He checks his trolley. Potatoes, newspaper, shoelaces, tobacco, beer and cake. Next time he'll make a list. He puts a little of the sugar back. He can't get used to it. He can hear his mother's voice advising him. She's dead so he tells her to speak up. She's giving him some bad advice. He's talking to a jar of jam. Is anybody else in there? Speak up!

Poets You Should Know -- S.C. Hahn

2011-11-24T05:00:00.000-08:00

S.C. Hahn grew up in Nebraska and lives in Sweden, where he sometimes bakes pies, encounters Masonite in his renovation of an old farm house, and is a freelance editor and writer. His prose poems have appeared in The Prose Poem, The Chiron Review, and The Party Train: A Collection of North American Prose Poetry (New Rivers Press, 1996), among other places.

Funeral Feast Pie

Slice after slice goes into the mouths of the mourners. It is as though they cannot get enough of something that reassures their living state, and pie is as good as anything else empirical or otherwise.

The long Sunday School table set up in the parish hall is dressed with a paper tablecloth all in white, like a bride. The whiteness is adorned with colors of lush fruit baked in crusts: double-crust apple, Dutch apple, deep-dish apple, sinful blackberry; rhubarb of pale scarlet and green like the colors of a bishop's robe in a medieval painting on wood; sour-cream raisin, with its plumped fruit set into custard as exquisitely as amber in yellow putti.

The servers cut into a pie brought fresh from a farm kitchen, and its soul—a wisp of peaches and spices and flour—rises heavenward, at least as far as the parish hall ceiling, and the mourners move forward to witness this little ascension.

The Origins of Masonite

Some say it is invoked, not manufactured, from an anti-papist conspiracy hatched within a fir forest, but its surface flatly denies theory. Nonetheless: hold it above your head as you nail it to the ceiling and you are swearing an oath to the appearance of uniformity.

You can paint it, spackle it, glue glitter on its compliant surface until you would swear the night sky was a big sheet of Masonite tacked onto the ends of the earth and bent almost until it broke, stars spilling like sawdust onto your head.

Poets You Should Know -- BOB HEMAN

2011-11-23T05:00:00.000-08:00

Bob Heman's prose poems have appeared in Sentence, Quick Fiction, Paragraph, Caliban, The Prose Poem: An International Journal, First Intensity and Lost and Found Times, and online at Otoliths, Mad Hatters' Review, Clockwise Cat and Action, Yes. They have been translated into Arabic, Spanish and Hungarian. Two of his collections are available as free downloads from the Quale Press. He lives in Brooklyn (New York City) where in the late 1970s he was an artist-in-residence at The Brooklyn Museum. He has edited CLWN WR (formerly Clown War) since 1971.

You will enjoy his poems.

THIS TIME

This time the hand is made of clouds. The sky is a huge animal whose breathing has stopped. the climbers when they arrive are composed of different colors. One of them has forgotten to attach his lifeline. He is the only one who does not fall. He is constructed from a system made of hesitations. Each time he tries to speak, a different pause emerges to smother his incentive. The hesitations are named after the settlements the river never returned.

ROAD TRIP!

2011-11-22T05:00:00.000-08:00

Roadtrip Timelapse / Drivelapse video from Brian DeFrees' 12,225 mile cross country roadtrip around the USA from August 2011 - October 2011 compressed into 5 minutes.

*** Turn on annotations to see what state is being displayed in the video ***

More details and a map of his cross country America Roadtrip Timelapse Drivelapse Project can be found here:

http://briandefrees.com/featured/usa-drivelapsetimelapse-project/

Check out night and day timelapses from his USA roadtrip here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgmnYRd6BNI

Music Credits: Waking Lights - "The Sounds"
http://wakinglights.com/

Cheap Thrills - AGENT LIBERTY #1

2011-11-21T05:00:00.000-08:00

Random Pulls from the Bargain Bin

This Column Originally Ran on Comics Bulletin

In these economic times, finding inexpensive entertainment is difficult. Thank goodness for the local comic shop and a slew of comics nobody cares about anymore! Each week Daniel Elkin randomly grabs a comic from the bargain bin (for 50 cents) to see what kind of bang he can get for his two-bits. These are those tales.

November 9, 2011 – paid 50 cents for:
AGENT LIBERTY #1
Published by: DC Comics
Written by: Dan Jurgens
Art by: Dusty Abell

INTERFERENCE

Let's travel back to January, 1992, shall we?

For some reason, it seemed like there was a great deal of regurgitation going on then. I mean, first off, this was when President George H. W. Bush spewed all over the Prime Minister of Japan at a state dinner.

Then in January, 1992 new United Nations Secretary-General became Boutros Boutros-Ghali, whose name kind of sounds like someone vomiting, right?

Also resonating with the sound of puking at this time was the title of the latest Emilio Estevez, Anthony Hopkins, and Mick Jagger vehicle just released into theaters, Freejack.

Green Day releases Kerplunk in January, 1992.

You see where I am going with all this?

My latest random pick from the bargain bin just so happened to be Dan Jurgens' Agent Liberty #1 from DC Comics. It, too, was released in January of 1992. With all the hurling going on during this month, I thought for sure I got me another pile of hork to heave through. It has all the makings of a mess, doesn't it? It's the first issue of an early 90's Superman spinoff languishing in the bargain bin, right? Such a thing does not bode well in terms of me keeping my bile down.

So I got myself a bucket before I sat down to read Agent Liberty, fully expecting to fill it with expectorate after the first couple of pages.

But that didn't happen. A matter of fact, after reading Agent Liberty #1 my faith in comics as a medium was renewed. You can color me impressed.

Seriously.

So Agent Liberty #1 opens at the Pentagon. A group of heavily armed “paramilitary types” seem to be breaking in. They've lost contact with some of their scouts, and one of the team is sent to investigate. This is what he finds:

It's Agent Liberty, and he ain't chewing bubble gum.

Some broken legs and a shattered spine or two later, the “paramilitary types” realize that hand-to-hand combat against Agent Liberty may not be the best idea. So they crank up the fire power.

Agent Liberty takes this opportunity to show off some of his other skills.

VVVT! ZTTT! VERTT!

I love it, and the dynamism of Abell's pencil work is palpable. I also want to laud big props on colorist Matt Hollingsworth for experimenting with the many hues of orange.

If you notice in the last panel above, one of the “paramilitary types” has lobbed a grenade at Agent Liberty.

Guess what he does.

Go on, guess....

That's your answer?

Well … that's a good answer ...

BUT YOU'RE WRONG!

He does this!

BDAMM! BWHOOM!

Oh yea. This book is becoming a serious graduate course on action packed comic book hokum fun! Who knew purple came in so many different grades? The writing is spot on, the grimace on Agent Liberty's face is perfect. Man! After slogging through Stormwatch last week, this is like a slice of cherry cheesecake made by Jesus after two bites of the Devil's own shit sandwich.

And it gets better.

The “paramilitary types” next bring an armored vehicle to the party, and with a BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA WHOOM! they almost blow off Liberty's arm. In response, Liberty grabs one of the goons with a “C'mere,” which causes the goon to ask, “What do you want ME for?”

BLEETCH!

Interference. Heh.

BLEETCH? Oh, Dan Jurgens – I don't care what sort of onomatopoeic dysentery you were suffering from – I LOVE YOU.

Then Liberty gets some back up in the form of an attack helicopter, and with a double FWOOSH and a fucia BADOOM! the “paramilitary types” are all mopped up. Liberty and the helicopter make a “tactical retreat” so as not to be subjected to any questioning (although this was at the Pentagon – you would think there would be more of a military presence and rapid response time – but I am NOT going to nitpick).

Agent Liberty returns to his base of operations where he is greeted by Harriman and Kramer, his bosses, who are not at all happy with what just went down. Harriman tells Liberty that there was a successful break-in after all, and someone walked out of the Pentagon with “A cassette tape with some communications regarding our Iranian Job – and a Simple, Old, Everyday Iranian map.

There is something about Iran.

The comic then proceeds to tell an incredible backstory.

In April of 1980, as a response to the kidnapping of 52 Americans held hostage in the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, Iran, then President Jimmy Carter gave the greenlight to the Delta Force led mission “Operation Eagle Claw” (called “Operation Blue Light” in the comic). This was to be a helicopter rescue mission, but ended up a debacle which resulted in the death of eight American servicemen and the loss of the helicopters (and probably costing Carter reelection).

In the world of Agent Liberty #1, prior to this mission, two CIA operatives, Devlin and Lockwood, set up the advance post in “mountains outside Tehran” running “recon missions”. They were going to be the “eyes and ears and rescue leaders” for the assault. When everything went FUBAR, Devlin and Lockwood were cut off. As Devlin says, “That means we're on our own! No more communications, no more support – no acknowledgment that we even exist!”

The two operatives had to get out of Iran on their own. To do so, they decide to go undercover into Tehran itself. While there, Devlin sees the Iranians kicking and stabbing the bodies of the dead American soliders. When he recognizes one of the bodies as his dead brother, he snaps and is summarily attacked by the frenzied Iranian crowd.

Lockwood retreats to the mountains. Dan Jurguns then writes: “Abandoned, shunned and forgotten by his country's politicians – his partner and best friend dead – Benjamin Lockwood was left alone in the most hostile country on Earth. And there was no way to get out.”

Even after Reagan was elected and the hostages were freed, Lockwood continued to be stuck in Iran. When the Iran/Iraq war broke out, Lockwood saw this as his opportunity to escape. After a fierce firefight and some brutal hand-to-hand combat, Lockwood, now “more animal than man,” was able to disguise himself as an Iraqi soldier and make his way across the border, eventually finding his way back to America.

Benjamin Lockwood then became Agent Liberty.

Whew.

Now that's a backstory and a hell of a history lesson. It also brings us to the present of the comic.

Things get a little convoluted from here in terms of plot. It turns out that the person responsible for the break-in at the Pentagon was Lockwood's former partner and not-dead at all Devlin. What was stolen out of the Pentagon was proof that his country had abandoned him and Lockwood in Iran. He orders a group of “paramilitary types” in Iran to “Extract the Prize” because it is “Revenge Time”.

Agent Liberty somehow gets wind that whatever was subsequently extracted in Iran is making its way to the U.S. and he wants to find out more. So he suits up, in defiance of his bosses, and takes off to find out what's up.

And we are back to awesome.

Liberty shows up at an airstrip in Maryland where the Iranian package has landed. He starts kicking ass, but the “paramilitary types” have got some serious firepower. Devlin is there and hits Liberty from behind. Then there is this scene:

Two of the bullets were deflected by Liberty's armor; the other one hits him in the chest. In pain, he tries to make sense of the fact that Devlin is still alive and somehow involved in this whole mishigas. He also finds himself surrounded by heavily armed “paramilitary types” who don't have his best interests at heart.

His team's helicopter makes a dramatic entrance and is able to disable the “paramilitary types.” Liberty goes totally rogue now, given his personal involvement in everything that is going on, and takes off after Devlin in direct disregard for the orders from his higher-ups.

It turns out that what was “extracted” from Iran earlier was “a small, crude, nuclear device” and Devlin is planning on dropping it on Washington.

Not only does this give credence to our government's long standing suspicions about Iran's nuclear capabilities (and should provide impetus for an invasion), but it also poses a serious problem for Liberty.

Liberty catches up with Devlin's plane and, at gunpoint, reveals his true identity as Ben Lockwood.

Devlin explains that the reason he is going to destroy Washington with a nuclear device is because of his abandonment issues, as well as a sense that America has turned into a “weird, deformed country.” He then explains that he was able to survive all these years in Iran because he became an informant, giving up “every bit of American Intelligence” he could, and eventually an Iranian Operative.

With this last admission he pulls the trigger of his gun.

Which leads to

and the end of the comic.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, release....

Damn. That was pretty intense.

Sure, the “solider abandoned by his country” story is a pretty classic trope at this point and Jerguns is breaking no new ground here. Sure, the storytelling in the comic becomes overly compressed at the end, lessening much of its emotional impact. Sure, there are a lot of “what the's?” and “how did's?” in the plot. Sure, we've got a low-tier (at best) superhero prancing about in his spandex.

But …. DAMN.

Even with all of these distractions, Dan Jurgens and Dusty Abell have pulled off something pretty amazing here. There's a history lesson wrapped in a lesson about unintended consequences. There's an examination of how people react to brutality and abandonment. There's a sense that even when the power structure is corrupt, the individual can still make a difference. There's action. There's intrigue. There's some of the best sound-effects ever in comics. And there is a feeling of weight to this book, that there are ideas here upon which to ruminate – ideas that, as we grapple with them, make us better somehow – not just as individuals, but also, as members of our larger society.

With great liberty comes great responsibility, and it's how we react to that responsibility that defines us as a country, that defines us as people.

With liberty, we can trample on the throats of others in a quest for our own success, or we can take them by the hand and see what we can do together.

Agent Liberty #1 has some answers for us, I think, and it only cost me fifty cents.

See you next week and remember, Comics Can Be Important.

KEEP DRAWING

2011-11-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

Warning: This short film may, in my opinion, induce seizures. If you are prone to that sort of thing, you may want to consider your options before viewing.

keep drawing from studio shelter on Vimeo.

GUY ON A BUFFALO (Your Chicken Enemy)

2011-11-19T05:00:00.000-08:00

Music in Your Future - TIGER DARROW

2011-11-18T05:00:00.001-08:00

So, there's this buzz going on about Tiger Darrow.

What's a Tiger Darrow?

This is a Tiger Darrow:

Impressive.

Even more impressive is that fact that Tiger Darrow is eighteen years old.

Even more impressive then the fact that Tiger Darrow is eighteen years old is that she has already released two full length albums, the second one entirely self-produced.

The self-produced album is 2011's You Know Who You Are. On this album, Tiger produced, recorded, mixed, and wrote all fifteen songs, while also singing and playing cello, bass, guitar, keyboards, mandolin, violin, ukulele, and tambourine.

As I said already, impressive.

Who is Tiger Darrow? According to Tiger, she “was raised in the lovely Austin, TX, and was completely spoiled; not in gifts, but in experiences. (She) grew up on film sets and in the back stages of theaters, so this allowed (her) to have experiences other kids (her) age weren’t. (B)eing in such a professional setting made (her) 'grow up' relatively fast, but (she) really wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tiger moved to Dallas, Texas as a high school freshmen and this is when she began to focus more on music, playing her first live shows. But music had always been part of her life. “I started playing violin when I was about 2 years old, and then later picked up the guitar and cello. I began songwriting when I was 12, and came to find that music was an excellent source of comfort and therapy, and allowed me to say things that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to. It also allowed me to entertain or even provide comfort for other people.”

Listening to You Know Who You Are, I had a hard time trying to “label” her music. I could make comparisons to other female pop/folk artists, but I'm not well-enough versed in that genre to draw the parallels. There is a calmness to her songs, which is combined with her incredible musical talents. The music kind of washes against you, like gentle waves upon a shoreline. When asked about her musical influences, Tiger sort of obliquely answers, “I’d say my direct influences include Imogen Heap and Danny Elfman for sure. Other influences vary depending on the song I’m writing.”

There is a diversity to her song writing, as if she is still casting about, not content with any one style of music, trying to let the songs speak for themselves.

I asked Tiger who she saw as her target audience. To this, she replied, “I like to think that my audience is 'all inclusive.' I try to write in a way that anyone can relate to my music. I’ve had people of all ages tell me that they’ve felt like they can connect or relate to it, and I think that’s great!”

Then I asked her what she hopes listeners take away from her songs.

“ I hope that, in some way, my listeners can find something they have in common with what I’m writing about. If they’re going through a rough time, I hope it can somehow help them know that they’re not alone and provide comfort. If they’re happy, I hope my music can prolong that happiness. Everyone takes away something different, and hearing that my music has touched someone in some way really means a lot to me.”

It is obvious from our conversation that Tiger is energetic, enthusiastic, sure of her talents, and motivated to succeed. She is amazingly talented, possessing one of those absolutely captivating singing voices and the chops to draw you into her songs. She also seems to have an innate musical sensibility, as if it were almost a second language for her, especially for someone so young.

And it is her youth that is evident in her songwriting.

Most of the songs on You Know Who You Are have to do with relationships gone awry. Tiger is very good at encapsulating the emotions associated with heartbreak. In the song Takes Time for example, she sings: “the words were only skin deep and they'll brush right off / but a broken heart is more complicated / and the pieces are smaller / and so much harder to pick up / it takes time.”

It is this compartmentalizing of emotions that, for Tiger, seems to be the path to healing. Throughout the album there are calls for distance from the intensity of lost love. These negative emotions are to be processed in order to heal. In the song, What Can You Do? she writes, “there's something to be said / for letting it all go / even just for a little while / the pain in your head / and it's hard to forget / but you need some relief.” In the song With Love she uses a beautiful image to say this same thing: “pack all your pain in a brown paper bag / those tears can be recycled in happier times.”

What happens because of this compartmentalization and this perspective that pain is something that must be endured to heal, though, is that it ends up holding Tiger back. There is an intensity of her feelings. This is certainly evident. But her writing focuses on the process and doesn't allow the creativity inherent in the rawness of the emotion to dictate the power of the song.

The closest she comes to letting this happen is on one of the best songs on the album, Make The News (Demo). Here, she channels her frustrations with a relationship and, in this, lets the song rip. “I can't let you do what you wanna do / if everything you're saying is the truth / if I'm gonna lose this all to you / then you better be prepared to make the news.” In this song, Tiger seems most alive. The music is bolder than anywhere else on the album, her singing has more of a snarl – it is a visceral experience, much more so than the rest of the album's understanding and soothing tones.

And it is here, in this song, that Tiger's true potential is revealed. Remember, this enormously talented artist is only 18 years old. She is maturing and developing and learning about herself, her muse, and her talents. There is incredible potential in this artist and, as she develops, she will be an artist who may possibly destroy our notions of the power of music.

At the end of our interview I asked Tiger she thinks the future holds for her. She responded, “Wow! Well the immediate future is attending NYU, which I am currently doing. I’m continuing playing shows, and since I’m a composition and theory major, I’m writing new material all the time. I love New York, because there is inspiration to be found in everything here. As far as long term goes, I guess we’ll have to wait and see!”

I guess we will have to wait and see, but if You Know Who You Are is any indication, we all may be in for something pretty powerful.

You can find out more about Tiger Darrow at her website: http://www.tigerdarrow.com/

Your Chicken Enemy

2011-11-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

See This Documentary -- ERASING DAVID

2011-11-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the most universal truths can be found in the smallest slices of life. That’s what makes independent documentaries so powerful, engaging, and entertaining. Not only do they show you little worlds to which you’ve never had access, but they oftentimes also tell the larger story of what it means to be human. Armed with this intellectual conceit, a bag of Funyuns, and a couple of Miller beers, I curl up in front of the TV and delve deep into the bowels of Netflix Documentaries to find out a little bit more about all of us.

Today I found 2010's Erasing David by David Bond and Melinda McDougall.

This is a documentary about information. More to the point, this is a documentary about the amount of information being captured and stored every day about YOU.

I'm sure that you are aware that every time you use your credit card or cell phone, that information is being logged into a database somewhere. Every time you purchase something on Amazon, or use I-Tunes, or click on a web site (like this one), that information is captured and held. Got a traffic ticket? Captured. Use a FastPass for a toll booth? Captured. Library? Captured. On-line Gaming? Captured. Streaming movies? Captured. Doctor's visit? Captured. Married? Captured. New Baby? Captured. Pet License? Captured.

It's enough to make you wonder what has happened to your privacy.

It's enough to make you kind of paranoid.

Erasing David kind of revels in this. The basic gimmick of the documentary is that filmmaker David Bond wants to see if he can escape off the grid for 30 days. He hires a “crack team” of private detectives to find him as he tries to disappear. This part of the film is rather overblown, staged, and distracting, though, and I almost found myself fast forwarding through much of it.

What is really interesting about this film, and what makes it worthy of note, is the back story Bond provides as the impetuous for his “experiment.” Bond had received a letter from the British Government informing him that due to the “misplacement” of Government data, some of his personal information had been compromised. The letter informed him that he had nothing to worry about, though.

This letter makes him curious to find out exactly what data the Government kept on him, as well as how much information others have about him.

It turns out that there is a lot of information being gathered unbeknownst to him. The scenes where Bond is going through all this information is unsettling. He ends up making these huge piles about what the Government and private companies know about him, his wife, and his child.

Bond then goes further, interviewing people whose lives have been turned upside down because of misrepresented or stolen personal information being held in these corporate and government databanks.

I recommend watching this documentary if for no other reason than to fuel your paranoia. The film ends with Bond having some serious concerns about the information the schools are gathering on his child, and the consequences of that sort of data being available.

The film raises some interesting questions about our privacy in the digital age. It also raises questions about some of the potential issues this sort of data mining can cause.

As the world gets smaller and smaller, and governments and corporations are seeming to exert more and more control on our lives, these are, unfortunately, important questions that should have more of a public platform for discussion.

Films like Erasing David might just help build that platform.