tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57816429130582072082024-03-19T06:50:05.335-04:00Are You A Serious Comic Book Reader?brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.comBlogger406125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-76381392250149987842011-03-30T17:04:00.000-04:002011-03-30T17:05:07.662-04:00we moved.check us out on <a href="http://comicsforserious.tumblr.com/">TUMBLR</a>.brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-9569842031341367052010-09-15T23:00:00.001-04:002010-09-15T23:00:48.016-04:00Baltimore Comic Con 2010 (Late Edition): George Gordon Pope<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWL-6rn8fy1fRL_nbNEcS71jN8PWxtr_1b-2nXAyjppRhYMoQusDm9Q_zuARKQVDVBu0bP-52NuWhTxmJ4DQ2BPMmUc4YVuCVADFeuWtL9mYkBI1b7k_JR4-l3rr1tbCKjFMQzz65kXVI/s1600/paul+pope+lord+byron.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511758586117918146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRWL-6rn8fy1fRL_nbNEcS71jN8PWxtr_1b-2nXAyjppRhYMoQusDm9Q_zuARKQVDVBu0bP-52NuWhTxmJ4DQ2BPMmUc4YVuCVADFeuWtL9mYkBI1b7k_JR4-l3rr1tbCKjFMQzz65kXVI/s400/paul+pope+lord+byron.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 268px;" /></a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">I was not trying to troll Paul Pope at all. It was simply in the long tradition of my forgetting to find things for Paul Pope to sign that I realized I had forgotten my notebook. I had, before buying <i>Life on Mars </i>#2, only a copy of a short, racy biography titled <i>Byron in Love,</i> which I had been reading for class. I figured Pope could sign it. It was not a totally inappropriate thing for Paul Pope to sign as the two men have a few things in common: Paul Pope is a rock star – Byron is the original rock star; Paul Pope makes me want to rip off my shirt – Byron had lots of people ripping off their shirts for him, and frequently; Paul Pope is conscious of his public image – Byron played with his public image. It made sense.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After falling all over my giddy self with an explanation, Paul Pope signed my book while laughing at me, trolling me right back with a signature from Lord Byron. I walked away lightheaded; how Byronic. </div>camdenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17548516570304197659noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-47956231711876191512010-09-03T01:40:00.000-04:002010-09-03T02:56:55.544-04:00Baltimore Comic Con 2010: Without A Plan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://accelerateddecrepitude.blogspot.com/2010/08/comic-con-2010.html"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYm2WZCzSb43U31-FmYJmRBNuZ_FFWUqaXoO4nqrkSssA0RBz94k5U62lDkDh5CsZWVMEP53N5vEqpGAaEjMzNcFBWQ7qhmiu_q5TjWKhHiKyylYBiqsI7V5W4y6Z9urLDkJHrCxZEFIKm/s320/Picture+4.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512503424204771538" border="0" /></a>Going to a comic con is in some ways like a job. At least the people with their laptops and four page printed out lists seem to approach it that way. In the back of my mind I've always had the desire to go all-out, officially fill-in all the missing pieces to different series, and to remember all the things that I actually want to get.<br /><br />So, to prepare for this year's Baltimore Comic Con, I went through my long boxes and piles of random comics, and I made an all-encompassing, page-long, handwritten list: An entire nights' work only to leave my list at home. I turned from perfectly-guided ballistic missile into some sort of misguided comic carpet bomb. Ultimately, it didn't matter because the best part about conventions is taking a chance on something new. Here's some highlights:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aiHv2nNenMbOMRQCmr9et50EeX-fuo-0GyLQh6wYhTCkPvUUI6NI3bDUDC47K1OcQE7I3OxSl8I0pg2_kaIXcYbAsMAFUb63pPHATC7rYf_zVQvX-MYHuG1FTudFI_ZHLVN0Le4yxsWY/s1600/warlock.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aiHv2nNenMbOMRQCmr9et50EeX-fuo-0GyLQh6wYhTCkPvUUI6NI3bDUDC47K1OcQE7I3OxSl8I0pg2_kaIXcYbAsMAFUb63pPHATC7rYf_zVQvX-MYHuG1FTudFI_ZHLVN0Le4yxsWY/s320/warlock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512501519056570386" border="0" /></a>I'd been looking for this series for a while with no success. Reminded by <a href="http://www.comicsreporter.com/index.php/25_emblematic_comics_of_the_70s/">this</a> really good article from The Comics Reporter, I made this one of my priorities going into the convention. I paid 6$ for a couple of issues, but just looking through them, it looks worth it. This is Starlin at his peak as an illustrator. Each page is filled with interesting layouts and each panel oozes with Starlin's unique busy, brilliant style.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhI-kMlyPmlz0ShN5U2vvL1nHq97AXFgR3UbQJ8P5f2VNIhmt3jHnaoqLJpXib6AQMhrkoTOMs-J8t2kOgyJgGPqa74AaK6WQga2awTvzA07IVqPE2bfE_nlFlNLarXnE-hJljP7M7mhN/s1600/spiderman.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhI-kMlyPmlz0ShN5U2vvL1nHq97AXFgR3UbQJ8P5f2VNIhmt3jHnaoqLJpXib6AQMhrkoTOMs-J8t2kOgyJgGPqa74AaK6WQga2awTvzA07IVqPE2bfE_nlFlNLarXnE-hJljP7M7mhN/s320/spiderman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512501428388602930" border="0" /></a>Every since reading <i>Carl the Cat That Makes Peanut Butter Sandwiches</i>, Jim Mahfood has been on my <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2009/08/negative-zone-hey-heavy-metal-still.html">radar</a>. I'm excited to read this issue which features both the Rhino and some guy in a bear suit both of whom are featured on the cover.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzn_zzSEouK1VnfM-qnFzttpXu1zE5hrh5BskkQn4D8qkPOIs9QlrNeVoOihGm0F785h6ceUT99Hl165d4YMdXbuRq7kY0MCaX5xzh4Ku33M01G32oEbJalPufYJIScHgaV3qrgEyJnYU/s1600/hulk.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzn_zzSEouK1VnfM-qnFzttpXu1zE5hrh5BskkQn4D8qkPOIs9QlrNeVoOihGm0F785h6ceUT99Hl165d4YMdXbuRq7kY0MCaX5xzh4Ku33M01G32oEbJalPufYJIScHgaV3qrgEyJnYU/s320/hulk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512501244703908162" border="0" /></a>This is one of the things that I actually remembered from my list. I've been trying to collect all the grey Hulk issues because I read one a while back and it was really good. This run of Hulk is almost like an elseworlds story with the Hulk doing pretty much whatever the hell he wants. It seems to be inspiration on a way the Hulk is portrayed in a lot out of stuff these days like <span style="font-style: italic;">Ultimate Hulk vs. Wolverine</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">Old Man Logan</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MuS3InjPcWawRWtPEEQFhRzqMr5809X8V35uYgL37subXdbvbCYykQ2avlDM_I9KC4xxZ7MctAriXBPCBtVa_JIp7r246HwnISaaDlZS6YCIIyR3qBk_Z0iieh5D9SkX8ucidsAsCbmy/s1600/Picture+3.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MuS3InjPcWawRWtPEEQFhRzqMr5809X8V35uYgL37subXdbvbCYykQ2avlDM_I9KC4xxZ7MctAriXBPCBtVa_JIp7r246HwnISaaDlZS6YCIIyR3qBk_Z0iieh5D9SkX8ucidsAsCbmy/s320/Picture+3.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512500577592302690" border="0" /></a>An insane and bizarre issue written by Kevin Eastmen, drawn by Simon Beasley, and some incredible coloring by Steve Lavigne. This comic is 110% in your face. Each page is like a stand alone and things jump back and forth without a clear central story. The art is stunning and at times that's how you feel reading this comic.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxbEr8oRczmK6T7MY37LuSartb9KIIA6_D3qhRDadpfHxMM9-Ve212cDZjT56qTfTLWkHBwrm42JDskvsXOdb4djjhJWkKlRtPAzZGNoCAnDJyv6dvqokCvwz0knINjzyisOfV4ZV4f1B/s1600/swan.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwxbEr8oRczmK6T7MY37LuSartb9KIIA6_D3qhRDadpfHxMM9-Ve212cDZjT56qTfTLWkHBwrm42JDskvsXOdb4djjhJWkKlRtPAzZGNoCAnDJyv6dvqokCvwz0knINjzyisOfV4ZV4f1B/s320/swan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512504510395249714" border="0" /></a>An adaption of the movie from 1978 drawn by Howard Chaykin. It approaches Star Wars from the level of a hit movie and not a completely entrenched part of our culture, so everything looks weird and slightly off, but that's why I like it. Probably won't ever read it but I've looked through it a couple times already.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNM_km50L8r4O17CkEpF6OSFMvQRLOJLB0d8H49HdfY8OTl7i6hIDv8g9aMPJadcYv91Amiz4QUVLisc6HjSp0guhUbLvynbb1xsxb4GBZqx9JaWpRpCsXuv3exfK6KxOo7CYEWHenb-bi/s1600/nightenemy.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNM_km50L8r4O17CkEpF6OSFMvQRLOJLB0d8H49HdfY8OTl7i6hIDv8g9aMPJadcYv91Amiz4QUVLisc6HjSp0guhUbLvynbb1xsxb4GBZqx9JaWpRpCsXuv3exfK6KxOo7CYEWHenb-bi/s320/nightenemy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512513578142446434" border="0" /></a>Loved Ellison/Corben <span style="font-style: italic;">A Boy and His Dog</span>, so logic would dictate I like this. I got into Ken Steacy from his issues on <span style="font-style: italic;">Marvel Fanfare</span> which are excellent. Steacy's art isn't as polished here as in <span style="font-style: italic;">Fanfare</span> but still looks OK.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiA3cL_L3B0MowciaBMuKgMUdjDECt4Gp5eZA1MlUq9ZfmAvXE_QhxinAxW9UZnCfxN0-yXIfoPcIwV5BrCTPAr58uC1UTWt9GB7fGAS0B6AItmcMCKMV1sGAx4LpFA73Qwnng_WTvynm/s1600/darctangent.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiA3cL_L3B0MowciaBMuKgMUdjDECt4Gp5eZA1MlUq9ZfmAvXE_QhxinAxW9UZnCfxN0-yXIfoPcIwV5BrCTPAr58uC1UTWt9GB7fGAS0B6AItmcMCKMV1sGAx4LpFA73Qwnng_WTvynm/s320/darctangent.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512500893556209858" border="0" /></a> This was the find of the convention. I bought it on a whim and it turned out to be completely worth it. The text of the opening page sold it for me. After the heading "80,000,000 Years Ago" the panels are, "It was ending./ The last of the booby trapped suns had novaed./ ...They were near./It was time to go." The art is incredible in a sort of Judge Dredd inspired vein and the story is very good. Like a lot of random small press ventures this one folded, but ffantasy ffactory only produced this one issue. An interesting account of the series' downfall from artist Conner "Freff" Cochran can be read <a href="http://fraziersbrain.blogspot.com/2008/12/out-of-vault-darc-tangent.html">here</a> in the comments section. It's a shame because it's rare for such a hard core space comic to be drawn so well and more importantly to have such interesting characters. The main characters are robots and aliens and the comic plows right through the traditional missteps of those archetypes as characters, and creates some real emotions from them.<br /></div></div>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-85591476378481100922010-09-01T13:24:00.000-04:002010-09-01T13:38:41.587-04:00Baltimore Comic-Con 2010: Year Of The Whitebox<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgi3nYtNWld6KzORud7nAoo8vLTUzO85mbUhOfcZeLsE7fzudPs2Yu4TrMq-N_L03UYcVuq79cxl7mMHaDeQegj8xwiAdDlz063SAavs96nCHIhwXRFAbCdzKGHVV7p-FQh6IrTjvHifG/s1600/timthumb.php.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgi3nYtNWld6KzORud7nAoo8vLTUzO85mbUhOfcZeLsE7fzudPs2Yu4TrMq-N_L03UYcVuq79cxl7mMHaDeQegj8xwiAdDlz063SAavs96nCHIhwXRFAbCdzKGHVV7p-FQh6IrTjvHifG/s400/timthumb.php.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511704381512334450" /></a>What makes Baltimore Comic-Con special is that it isn't a multimedia event like the San Diego or New York Comic-Cons have become. There aren't panels about movies or video games with lines that wrap around the convention center, it's about long boxes and making deals, talking to creators and busting out your list to complete a series. This year was the first I've gone without said list, instead deciding to buy weird shit or comics that I had been looking for for so long that I knew the numbers by heart. I found them all, in case you were wondering.<br /><br /> Every year the first hour is almost overwhelming, the sense of "fuck, where the hell am I going to start?", surrounded by long boxes, merchants peddling their goods and cosplayers pushing people who are shopping to be in a picture. I swept the convention floor from right to left, pillaging every booth of it's greatest wares. For past cons, I've given you a comprehensive list of everything I got, but this year there was really too much to list and explain. The dealer tables were more significant this year and it speaks loudly to Baltimore Comic Con's anti-San Diego approach, and just to the kind of comics reader attending the con. Here's some highlights of this year. Note that very few of these are all that "hard to find" or "rare" or whatever because that's just not the point anymore.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkE6_j7M-yKN9S3Civ9r5LC6585y6t_eJh7gkYTevhUYx7-ykNOYnoNxyaTqUSVH3fUhBpFLgHGNLcicqAJQQGZR5B09eYsWPLr_E7dGuzjWp6yTRgmbvW4PEuC8jCuLWGxr-u5-2ziqk0/s1600/39498_20061015065701_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkE6_j7M-yKN9S3Civ9r5LC6585y6t_eJh7gkYTevhUYx7-ykNOYnoNxyaTqUSVH3fUhBpFLgHGNLcicqAJQQGZR5B09eYsWPLr_E7dGuzjWp6yTRgmbvW4PEuC8jCuLWGxr-u5-2ziqk0/s320/39498_20061015065701_large.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511720303533233762" /></a>I've been looking for these issues for a long time but usually all you can find are the Marvel ones. This is the Japanese Godzilla comic where he doesn't even show up in the first issue, and instead of focusing on the army or Godzilla himself, it's about the people who were affected by the bomb and Godzilla's attacks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63jRhKZOFR-iAyBXf6estu_s93_K2DoVsjHwYut8F-_4M_H0k2wY29u50m5miWozJ2-yQ4QLvd3MHnztIODXMGl43WTA6L8ROam1S82qlCzxvSnvpvEyw1fq_BK0N2f9T686pdpUmkTCI/s1600/50503_20060711183155_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63jRhKZOFR-iAyBXf6estu_s93_K2DoVsjHwYut8F-_4M_H0k2wY29u50m5miWozJ2-yQ4QLvd3MHnztIODXMGl43WTA6L8ROam1S82qlCzxvSnvpvEyw1fq_BK0N2f9T686pdpUmkTCI/s320/50503_20060711183155_large.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511720896847418130" /></a>I think Aragones is a genius, his parody work is some of the funniest stuff out there and I didn't even know this issue existed. Thank god for unsorted dollar bins.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsGL7wd8sRTNQ1990fPazSKBWOynGUMsWS2uYRtV-xgSOKf-1B-W7h8Cy1T5WXhZMgMFJslnGzxMEGgPmDJQuIGo0uy4bF5zoFbsklB9332KJBCRLXvU0HbLBe9hj9FHuUl5mCD9dwpSI/s1600/130991-18667-110256-1-duckman_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAsGL7wd8sRTNQ1990fPazSKBWOynGUMsWS2uYRtV-xgSOKf-1B-W7h8Cy1T5WXhZMgMFJslnGzxMEGgPmDJQuIGo0uy4bF5zoFbsklB9332KJBCRLXvU0HbLBe9hj9FHuUl5mCD9dwpSI/s320/130991-18667-110256-1-duckman_large.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511721243085584418" /></a>As I said above, I went in this year without a list, dedicated to weird-ass stuff. Something about these ten old <i>Duckman</i> issues was irresistable. Also there's something beautiful and hilarious about old licensed comics like <i>The Simpson's</i> or <i>Ren and Stimpy</i>--they're always a little more grotesque and "mature."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwXtgGifO-xcwrMRGs0x7AnDOCtmjSLS3Bk8SoaHtjz5KdU8aiv7hpE4Ga-vQ1_4j2Yvpd_D5LjrhqVNtVZ7tocqeokkwiBwYe36xl-keby79wGbV-_oNIadBCQLL0Ad9KYNOExxJN9l2/s1600/bill+and+ted.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwXtgGifO-xcwrMRGs0x7AnDOCtmjSLS3Bk8SoaHtjz5KdU8aiv7hpE4Ga-vQ1_4j2Yvpd_D5LjrhqVNtVZ7tocqeokkwiBwYe36xl-keby79wGbV-_oNIadBCQLL0Ad9KYNOExxJN9l2/s320/bill+and+ted.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511726888145439842" /></a>Same applies here, this Bill and Ted series is done by Evan Dorkin of <i>Milk and Cheese</i> fame. I found the first issue and decided to buy it, but then later in the Con found the entire series for six bucks. The art is simple but expressive, the anatomy is hilarious and garish. It's incredible. Let me know if you want my extra first issue and I'll send it out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSGAAnFYiUmIYYkxCbihCtgLv4tLoxUe7tTMrNa7lZTOZMyQ9PxeO2htO3HD8K21yxCqUz1BxHN7O5v7CsFEC_VJDR_R0bUx9QYTwqlU2IFbKT97Hp22BR1NOHlVRq_4GNfv0b8f2JUbX/s1600/i_saw_it.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSGAAnFYiUmIYYkxCbihCtgLv4tLoxUe7tTMrNa7lZTOZMyQ9PxeO2htO3HD8K21yxCqUz1BxHN7O5v7CsFEC_VJDR_R0bUx9QYTwqlU2IFbKT97Hp22BR1NOHlVRq_4GNfv0b8f2JUbX/s320/i_saw_it.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511727980191742402" /></a><i>I Saw It</i> is an early work by Keiji Nakazawa of <i>Barefoot Gen</i> fame. Nakazawa is a survivor of the atomic bomb and has done numerous comics about the event and his experiences. This single issue is pretty hard to find and is another White Box Hero, found in a fifty cent bin. It's in color which so few manga that came to America are. The book is incredible. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBynAwmZQYQP7-GuueX36Z-or_ESXG_9ErUzGAqKdjnDqIHp1wACnk0BreZFrqPh1HUCBkN5gy4t4qDKYnu7cWmrI15XVDIV-fbO7rCkg_ScTstA7jaCofkp27FeuDc2L0511B58_NH87d/s1600/682636-image001_super.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBynAwmZQYQP7-GuueX36Z-or_ESXG_9ErUzGAqKdjnDqIHp1wACnk0BreZFrqPh1HUCBkN5gy4t4qDKYnu7cWmrI15XVDIV-fbO7rCkg_ScTstA7jaCofkp27FeuDc2L0511B58_NH87d/s320/682636-image001_super.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511729147448485474" /></a><br />Brandon bought this for me, marked "adult", it starts with a zombie fucking a cow from behind and then being shot. Oh yea, it's done by Frank Cho.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8omUPPzqO3JLalHE7nc8d08_QdYi81hLXnlijoHStmhwror_ACJB2xZSOm28-0kv5h-sxCYCud6Wj9biQ1kNI_ueJxI4TjHAhbw9upd5jqwZevJCM8q-0gCCYJEE-IXcMasUxcbtY_ws/s1600/images%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 188px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8omUPPzqO3JLalHE7nc8d08_QdYi81hLXnlijoHStmhwror_ACJB2xZSOm28-0kv5h-sxCYCud6Wj9biQ1kNI_ueJxI4TjHAhbw9upd5jqwZevJCM8q-0gCCYJEE-IXcMasUxcbtY_ws/s320/images%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511735957050527346" /></a>A big market at Comic Conventions are bootleg DVDs. Often they are of television shows that never came out on DVD due to licensing issues, like <i>The Wonder Years</i> or <i>Doug</i>. There's always a back section though with some weird porno, which is where I found <i>Seinfeld: A XXX Parody</i>. After trying to convince every one else how much they wanted it so I could watch it, I went in Sunday with Monique and bought it for myself. The similarites are hilarious, you guys don't even know about Newman and Soup Nazi.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnblhnSM77IEUGiDSn6wZWagqftKbNIHMh52cqXyiIa_dN75JrCSZdh1qd1ZZ9dH8K1C1qHvryQhcQwl1dU0QEv_z9EUXfiGR6lHZgd0W-amCYWouqCPaO_ff1vjYs4J9oLu7qXmL_6be3/s1600/20090421seinfeld%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 203px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnblhnSM77IEUGiDSn6wZWagqftKbNIHMh52cqXyiIa_dN75JrCSZdh1qd1ZZ9dH8K1C1qHvryQhcQwl1dU0QEv_z9EUXfiGR6lHZgd0W-amCYWouqCPaO_ff1vjYs4J9oLu7qXmL_6be3/s320/20090421seinfeld%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511738318476996946" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbpvfraLsMz6ymadlC8SoKmOYcvU2KY86innWv8QAIu9cO4jdfqKqaGGJdG8E75xJPy_dzEqJEWOaDksAl2u_VDeyU6K9_F3jOl1w5sNEnJWaVEfcq-WHzXuGx0wjRzzNBkhk5KPV18CS/s1600/47883c7fb7d47_30813n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbpvfraLsMz6ymadlC8SoKmOYcvU2KY86innWv8QAIu9cO4jdfqKqaGGJdG8E75xJPy_dzEqJEWOaDksAl2u_VDeyU6K9_F3jOl1w5sNEnJWaVEfcq-WHzXuGx0wjRzzNBkhk5KPV18CS/s320/47883c7fb7d47_30813n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511729427883883426" /></a>This was the first Marvel Comic toy I ever owned, and it really defined "cool" to me in 1994. Ninja Turtles barely could raise their arms, and G.I. Joes did some serious posing but this mother fucker could do <i>all</i> of Spider-Man's poses. My original toy was murdered when I dropped him out of a tree onto an unsuspecting Punisher figure. He broke in two and wasn't really the "Multi-Jointed Action Posing" toy he was before the accident. I built him these lego legs/wheel chair sort of thing and he became a bad guy. Those are the breaks, Spidey.samuel ruleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09836770588681468852noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-29413793556702004112010-08-19T11:16:00.000-04:002010-08-19T11:53:08.086-04:00Frank Miller Week: Green Lantern-Superman: Legend of the Green Flame Cover<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9JYh7_vrtSn5I8WislPlWuq0tLx4TwGIEUJfqNwl5Er8jBwYJxmKcX3BAGRt1EoFL0uprewMmw3mjbDZVkvUULXZBnnK1lJbjuSyy5Lgeek_eSCdUr4TjDLnui69wQj2Z0mocheXO-1P/s1600/18373_20051217040457_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 261px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9JYh7_vrtSn5I8WislPlWuq0tLx4TwGIEUJfqNwl5Er8jBwYJxmKcX3BAGRt1EoFL0uprewMmw3mjbDZVkvUULXZBnnK1lJbjuSyy5Lgeek_eSCdUr4TjDLnui69wQj2Z0mocheXO-1P/s400/18373_20051217040457_large.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507016818830338866" /></a>Everything that makes Frank Miller’s art iconic is featured on this cover: fat meaty paws in place of hands, awkward chunky anatomy and the over-use of negative space (or possibly a calculated under-use of color would be more accurate). With a style more recognizable than Jack Kirby’s, Miller knows he doesn’t need all the pieces of the puzzle to tell a story, with bare, trace facts he can build his narrative and make us believe whatever story he'd like.<br /><br />Superman’s “S” logo, curl and cape are the three traits about him always used to identify the character, and that's all Miller needs--literally nothing else but a body frame is drawn. More time was spent detailing the giant bird claw that is piercing both heroes than on the heroes themselves. It’s about the curiosity of what could kill both of these men, not that they are even characters in the story. They're symbols.<br /><br />As mentioned in <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2010/08/frank-miller-week-jurassic-park-cover.html">Monique’s post</a>, Miller draws the clawed leg coming from the left side of the image, the beast largely unseen, pulling our eyes slowly to the right. While he uses this trick again to direct us along the picture, his intentions are different, it tells a story in itself, forcing us to ask what the beast is, where it came from, and how did Superman and Green Lantern come to be in it's possession? <br /><br />Less bad-ass than the majority of his work, Miller's ability to instill fear is showcased here: the horror of the blackened, presumed dead Justice Leaguers close to the center of the page, while the actual events are taking place elsewhere. The best and maybe the most affecting aspect of the image though, is Superman's cape ripped to shreds with and the Green Lantern's ring still glowing from the fight. Even in a single-image, Frank Miller can make the action intense and very real and maintain his balance of the mythic and gritty.samuel ruleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09836770588681468852noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-11924968034067527132010-08-19T00:27:00.000-04:002010-08-19T00:31:16.903-04:00Frank Miller Week: Bone #38 Cover<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbPLZcfktvE0hdsnEf0fNntV19k8NtlLq2ppTgB72Axbe7Ka_FBSTNwf6_frMAxuwonTBW7PPEMLlYiHaeLDEYo8yA1MlEjkZzqUWmgEXHJ517Q98lHGMG2QycmEebFvv6aRiZs_i_Z52/s1600/bone38miller.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbPLZcfktvE0hdsnEf0fNntV19k8NtlLq2ppTgB72Axbe7Ka_FBSTNwf6_frMAxuwonTBW7PPEMLlYiHaeLDEYo8yA1MlEjkZzqUWmgEXHJ517Q98lHGMG2QycmEebFvv6aRiZs_i_Z52/s320/bone38miller.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506916641141029618" border="0" /></a><!--EndFragment--><!--EndFragment--><i>Bone </i>is Jeff Smith’s fantasy epic about armies and destiny, but at it’s very center is the story of Thorn and how she goes from being a girl to a woman. Issue #38 has Thorn at the crux of her transition, and Miller’s cover obviously shows her in complete woman-warrior mode.He shadows her face and makes her dark nature central to what’s going on; in the <i>Bone</i> universe that same darkness is there, but significantly pushed into the background. There’s also, an enhanced sexuality to Miller interpretation, in the insanely skinny waste, the prominent breasts, and huge red lips. The cover draws some strong parallels to one of the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXvksRZIy6wzLTyWSzBO8pj0ryQOHJq81L7fPzYFVPW-E6vmws1ra6kglvxUW4yGlhQTmv7bMjuSSj_aCchJG1Yd3rhpJM_aVoFYqUw-qXLXPsSCnT824Maawurv6obSQMfE1h2R1Ax4/s1600/p.jpg">panels</a> Brandon <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2010/08/frank-miller-week-lance-blastoff-panel.html">talked about</a> earlier this week.<div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPumF1O_FSLQoVlO3jdbYP0oVuZ7t2SGKzarxxKmN_i03cUzCoDklXu4YZLjgn6HD3zLbHooasS997mxL6Dv0bejU5BgnRZHuiUhlL-etqZZE8oRlC-_poD0ColI2M2C2WkrqDcRlklHse/s1600/Picture+4.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 164px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPumF1O_FSLQoVlO3jdbYP0oVuZ7t2SGKzarxxKmN_i03cUzCoDklXu4YZLjgn6HD3zLbHooasS997mxL6Dv0bejU5BgnRZHuiUhlL-etqZZE8oRlC-_poD0ColI2M2C2WkrqDcRlklHse/s320/Picture+4.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506969118291905266" border="0" /></a>What’s especially interesting is looking at this cover in comparison to all three covers that came out for the same issue. Alex Ross draws the complete opposite version of Thorn: a little girl, in harsh lighting, cowering behind basically a stuffed animal. Smith's cover lands somewhere in the middle, showing the Bones as comic relief, but also Thorn hurtling over a branch--as both warrior and woman. Contained in the three covers is Smith’s balancing act of Bone, and it’s this combination of seriousness, comedy, and complex deeper meanings that make the series worth reading.</div><div><br />It’s Miller’s cover though that really stands out of the three. Next to Miller’s cover, Ross’ looks washed-out and his photo-realistic style just makes Bone look like something weird that shouldn’t exist. Like a CGI character or something. Ross’ cover is also focused on the most boring early aspect of the story: Thorn as a little girl with a crush on Bone. Miller takes the subtle themes from Smith’s story, particularly the ones that he'd find most appealing and forces them to the forefront. The absence of the titular characters is important because it gives Thorn a really powerful spotlight and cuts out the comedic relief, which is important sometimes. It shows Thorn struggling with her loss of innocence and finding her spot in the world, but at the same time, it makes her the center of attention and a powerful, Frank Miller-esque bad-ass.</div></div>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-571668841594016532010-08-18T13:42:00.000-04:002010-08-18T13:44:00.816-04:00Frank Miller Week: "Lance Blastoff" Panel-By-Panel<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxcyEnnpWNPmcHBFdflbCrZ_g6Tep4UnKYNbzt-Ggz5rJKURXfvthFE8nPEoTbv2k1MLFixyixsQs07OhSbatZnnNl7x6hPq4jxBW37bjjEkuPwYZVxhkurBz14ZglXxXetupTjuY3auk/s1600/lance.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxcyEnnpWNPmcHBFdflbCrZ_g6Tep4UnKYNbzt-Ggz5rJKURXfvthFE8nPEoTbv2k1MLFixyixsQs07OhSbatZnnNl7x6hPq4jxBW37bjjEkuPwYZVxhkurBz14ZglXxXetupTjuY3auk/s400/lance.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506628522711558258" /></a>Here's the thing about Frank Miller's politics. If my <a href="ttp://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2010/08/frank-miller-week-millers-gummy.html">rambling, non-commital piece from Monday</a> didn't already say it without saying it, the dude's worldview is pretty nuanced and complicated. And really, the best way to parse it out is through um you know, actually reading the work. This "Lance Blastoff" story from the very strange Dark Horse-released one-shot <i>Tales To Offend</i> is a good place to start figuring out what the deal is with Frank Miller.<br /><br />Thankfully, <a href="http://www.4thletter.net/2009/05/smoke-em-if-you-got-em-kids/">The 4th Letter</a> did the scanning for me and did some of their own reading of the story already. Author of the piece, David Brothers notes that "Lance Blastoff" is "one of the relatively few times he’s done an out and out humor book," and indeed, it's basically broad satire, but it's appropriately Miller-like in that it's multi-directional in its satirical targets. It's not quite the sledgehammer-subtle parody of the American action hero that it may at first seem. I mean, it is that, but it's also an attack on P.C sensitivity and liberal hypocrisy...or something? Let's take a look at this twisty turny, brilliant, retarded comics short...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg912fivONAMoEzysSeZ8nk-591jESvFV89YBJ0LW4L3BorUCUk_s2npJHFsUfsqPhD-7CZh1eBNrkbgT6s-ZD47BA56RROOfvO3HHxp5olyiLAvvXEG4hMrRpwusyFuLtMjRORVm2wgp4/s1600/a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg912fivONAMoEzysSeZ8nk-591jESvFV89YBJ0LW4L3BorUCUk_s2npJHFsUfsqPhD-7CZh1eBNrkbgT6s-ZD47BA56RROOfvO3HHxp5olyiLAvvXEG4hMrRpwusyFuLtMjRORVm2wgp4/s400/a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881307468372754" /></a>While this title-sequence-like panel is a parody of Golden-Age superhero comics, it isn't that far from Miller's usual stylistics. That's to say, this is ironic but it isn't a total corrective or anything. Miller loves this style and next to Richard Corben, I can't think of another comics artist as in love with basic, visceral comics grammar. But yes, this still introduces "Lance Blastoff" as something absurd. Even the dialogue, "Here's a beefy little yarn--with an important message for you kids!" reads a bit like yeah, a parody of old comics, but a parody of Miller's stunted, noir-tinged writing style too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzT3xJTU2grOO-Yc7eqJK_IFjqX9u07kltvkLnpOHvgHjrfIdjtDpj89JujQlCclVvTLpXd0DQgXJbBDreAqS4yZta8zs1MJvomMILHUgoZc7Isudmq9vcG7TFi-nrFfjrvN4cuB6FOVU/s1600/b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzT3xJTU2grOO-Yc7eqJK_IFjqX9u07kltvkLnpOHvgHjrfIdjtDpj89JujQlCclVvTLpXd0DQgXJbBDreAqS4yZta8zs1MJvomMILHUgoZc7Isudmq9vcG7TFi-nrFfjrvN4cuB6FOVU/s400/b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881298009879090" /></a>So this panel is just beautiful. What's with Miller and dinosaurs? He has some weird ability to draw them as kinda awe-inspiring but also massive and horrifying. And that's the tension going through this panel and the source of its satire. We have the female character talking about the dinosaurs from an "enlightened" environmentalist perspective: "My friends witness nature in perfect balance." The joke of the panel is they're neither scary as expected (yet) or all that elegant. They're more like overgrown cows or something, just munching on grass. Already here though, Miller's satire is shifting its focus or at the least, kinda corralling in an opposite point of view to <i>also</i> take a big shit on. This female character is an idiot too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FkKg1iAmLsOSSNhbRM0jTDzC4LE4fEIdBpRFuXdUnExWMVy0HJKbQ1k0oWyUp27LB3wlkwKy3jJng2wtpC8orEuUa-Zkvi_Fu6HszClSHtHcQuLUUC3paJaC3ZwyIG5cqYmTnfbTqnk/s1600/c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 395px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FkKg1iAmLsOSSNhbRM0jTDzC4LE4fEIdBpRFuXdUnExWMVy0HJKbQ1k0oWyUp27LB3wlkwKy3jJng2wtpC8orEuUa-Zkvi_Fu6HszClSHtHcQuLUUC3paJaC3ZwyIG5cqYmTnfbTqnk/s400/c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881295564705394" /></a>Here, we're closer to revealing that this character is indeed, a woman. And you know, she's in good company in terms of strong, wise female characters in Miller's work: Elektra, Martha Washington, many of the females in <i>Sin City</i>. Really though, the main point here is the ratcheting-up of the female character's rhetoric. Her all-too-common liberal condescension: "Unsullied by fast-food restaurants spewing forth burnt animal flesh to fill the bloated bellies of sweaty, obese people." Sounds like a lot of people I know after they read <i>Fast-Food Nation</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45m0iYsQH3fceSRxvnQECkzes1ew678A0xTX5yDoiWkxQe6jZsRhKVhmw0tx_1B9BksIpL_AgHnOE9KKjcEC7UUGEvuN-Jgkfl0o6HJMuiluFPJNzsUzEFl_BMtoFIjOo1TwCoENgDOA/s1600/d.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg45m0iYsQH3fceSRxvnQECkzes1ew678A0xTX5yDoiWkxQe6jZsRhKVhmw0tx_1B9BksIpL_AgHnOE9KKjcEC7UUGEvuN-Jgkfl0o6HJMuiluFPJNzsUzEFl_BMtoFIjOo1TwCoENgDOA/s400/d.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881289968619218" /></a>The female character's revealed. Giving a weird, didactic tour to a bunch of like Cro-Magnon alien freaks or something. Now, Miller's really got her going though. Lots of "nature's perfect and peaceful", dime-store Rousseau going on here. This kind of idealized, loving sense of the world isn't just a point of contention with pseudo-tough guys like Miller though, it's precisely the kind of self-important, self-deluded, vanity that all your classic satire's based upon. Just this silly, satisfied sense that the world would or could be a better place if not for us awful humans and our damned civilization.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgHbv34xRJSdWeRiy6KLBmIMsmRxbpx_EbF3Qsk18hRuB7iTnFrlgXc7b0UHm5PQXWC9BptClxF-BGOnPGu3GCIX8riCtx1q76CPXAxDhp3ipBBj62UODGeIH5aTp9HVQLlkGMX1UGHA/s1600/e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFgHbv34xRJSdWeRiy6KLBmIMsmRxbpx_EbF3Qsk18hRuB7iTnFrlgXc7b0UHm5PQXWC9BptClxF-BGOnPGu3GCIX8riCtx1q76CPXAxDhp3ipBBj62UODGeIH5aTp9HVQLlkGMX1UGHA/s400/e.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881285298539282" /></a>Lolz! What the comic's so clearly setting-up: The ideal, gentle, untainted dinosaur goes for the humans. This is the punchline panel. Since it's pretty obvious, let's focus on Miller's world-building here. So, we've got a future where we can visit the dinosaurs somehow, and spaceships look like bad-ass fifties cars. Going along with what I said about the first panel of this story, this is Miller mocking the signs and signifiers of old-timey comics and being totally in-love with him. The strange combination here (dinosaurs, nice cars, post-feminist space tour-guide) is exactly the kind of weirdness you'd see in some cheapo 1950's space pirate tale.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrYw8NOLttoiHkEPwvPUMWDe2y_rYx2C86QYYMtlBP2abGY7MBOBjnQ7UBF6hTi_VU3TpkBzfNCqPyVUInImjvkN4NPAVE7aP37TiNmSCnh_k8wOsVcuPI5yL5jVE044SX8Gzp3tiFBE/s1600/f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrYw8NOLttoiHkEPwvPUMWDe2y_rYx2C86QYYMtlBP2abGY7MBOBjnQ7UBF6hTi_VU3TpkBzfNCqPyVUInImjvkN4NPAVE7aP37TiNmSCnh_k8wOsVcuPI5yL5jVE044SX8Gzp3tiFBE/s400/f.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880997794718482" /></a>The unfortunate realism after the punchline. Bodies are flailing, limbs are floating through the air. That "CHOMP" will be important later.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sM0-fn41_lw43rKGUr8rtu4PfwNvmRMOBmMfbItokTlg7a4ZJbIbkHOOYjzrMXZdqxyzbgoCght0YMhqlK8G3QqTOJWlIEZAJg-Y3pvmqz5FmUWj28hnxVvdWjALuHXvGQ9SpCBGvNE/s1600/g.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3sM0-fn41_lw43rKGUr8rtu4PfwNvmRMOBmMfbItokTlg7a4ZJbIbkHOOYjzrMXZdqxyzbgoCght0YMhqlK8G3QqTOJWlIEZAJg-Y3pvmqz5FmUWj28hnxVvdWjALuHXvGQ9SpCBGvNE/s400/g.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880987123746994" /></a>Miller gives you a close-up of the horror. The female character is kinda making eye-contact with the reader here, like she's realized how goofy and just plain wrong her idealized view of the dinosaurs is and she's reaching out to someone, anyone, to give her some comfort in what'll obviously be here final moments of life. More "CHOMP"s.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLO7Y0O4o8G4I1WUcsQA4Rl7bf1eEZZOqMndfzGwQXXvcj7N_5V0OWyE12GNLomDY_VFbgQwbPmJnWa6tDAy2i_Vgw2sxXWld1cEOGAFmVmvxf-nfzrFvQJDXkxn6Gac66q6-cox2Z0HY/s1600/h.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLO7Y0O4o8G4I1WUcsQA4Rl7bf1eEZZOqMndfzGwQXXvcj7N_5V0OWyE12GNLomDY_VFbgQwbPmJnWa6tDAy2i_Vgw2sxXWld1cEOGAFmVmvxf-nfzrFvQJDXkxn6Gac66q6-cox2Z0HY/s400/h.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880984590543186" /></a>Some artful, McCloud <i>Understanding Comics</i> type time-between-the-panels shit. Now, the female character has landed on the ground, having escaped the T-rex's "CHOMP"s. She's also totally shifted her view on the creature at a very convenient time. Faced with death, she respects and is seemingly taken by the raw brute desires of the dinosaur. It's a comment on the shifting values of the liberal idealist.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFb_bLrM5oma1gMCuuFkzBBTqMhieBDHb0a0bgsvQw0yyZ9PJSvJVCKW8vOewaZ4POFuH8s16cEavWpUZ0vu1a0cIXRvcQLPHludg-YW3Y9Zk0C84sDlgeLNv3nGTkzOoZxl1BqTgj7Q4/s1600/i.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 343px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFb_bLrM5oma1gMCuuFkzBBTqMhieBDHb0a0bgsvQw0yyZ9PJSvJVCKW8vOewaZ4POFuH8s16cEavWpUZ0vu1a0cIXRvcQLPHludg-YW3Y9Zk0C84sDlgeLNv3nGTkzOoZxl1BqTgj7Q4/s400/i.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880978600304194" /></a>Notice Miller's visual economy here. Lance Blastoff shows up, but because everything in this story's cut to the bare essentials, he doesn't get a build-up or an extended introduction or anything, he's just there all of a sudden. The byproduct of this is perhaps something a bit mock-heroic or anti-climactic about his arrival. He's also delivering a kind of mealy-mouthed action hero "one-liner" that's stretched into two panels because it's so complex and rambling, which is pretty funny.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfYzH-YhjbrlS8WaimYLLpvBVhslq3y7cy6EeyM3X9VEfm2LjQSn18j-2RW4FSkPjkhnql5ct7TUxZE34dFpAK68jhbTxvgywNkASnaVaB1AyLI-8eDp16V8dcwAqFx54iGBP6pjFeGc/s1600/j.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfYzH-YhjbrlS8WaimYLLpvBVhslq3y7cy6EeyM3X9VEfm2LjQSn18j-2RW4FSkPjkhnql5ct7TUxZE34dFpAK68jhbTxvgywNkASnaVaB1AyLI-8eDp16V8dcwAqFx54iGBP6pjFeGc/s400/j.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880717447595666" /></a>The satire shifts here to Lance. The female character is speaking reason or perhaps I should say, "reason". She's basically pointing out that a basic trope of comics heroes is pretty silly: That it isn't enough to simply save the person, the villain or aggressor must be decimated. Miller mocks Lance Blastoff's excess.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpO7eytJCoRNQ4Iv-aF7IqHZqWTWoeobP0A8U_P4JIvc5VHZFJBI0ovzjzYl6ygNsWTjoxBYYNOjTICcpC92Xu_gWXQlbTyCLTLvwGL8P43I3bdOh-UW-TJYsodpmMWi25vlhF1uCkg1s/s1600/k.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpO7eytJCoRNQ4Iv-aF7IqHZqWTWoeobP0A8U_P4JIvc5VHZFJBI0ovzjzYl6ygNsWTjoxBYYNOjTICcpC92Xu_gWXQlbTyCLTLvwGL8P43I3bdOh-UW-TJYsodpmMWi25vlhF1uCkg1s/s400/k.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880715607257490" /></a>Lance is just an unaware, macho douche here. His reasons for killing the T-rex are to eat it apparently. Perhaps something of a joke on the justification many hunters make for killing animals ("I'm going to eat it"), which is respectable but also pretty dopey because like dude, it isn't the caveman days, you're just feeding your ego playing hunter/gatherer. The really funny stuff in this panel though is the bizarro sound effect ("Spam"?!) and the fact that Lance is like, shooting a mini-WMD into the dinosaur's mouth. The female character's attitude is once again shifting to hystericism: "You fiend! You monster! Stop!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlbeRacXHG_t9lbzw4w26edEyO2MU3bD4ypmykrzZhyphenhyphenFGf9zJ0CbAqNV5qAAW5PnDcaqD7u-qQorUx_a8np3uGa5cu80X0p4oMwj9fupx04WT42oHxY7uFJYPk3F979Wn4IZIlzoapos/s1600/l.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 324px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUlbeRacXHG_t9lbzw4w26edEyO2MU3bD4ypmykrzZhyphenhyphenFGf9zJ0CbAqNV5qAAW5PnDcaqD7u-qQorUx_a8np3uGa5cu80X0p4oMwj9fupx04WT42oHxY7uFJYPk3F979Wn4IZIlzoapos/s400/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880709000152930" /></a>The T-rex exploding in a very awesome comic book way. But again, there's a sense of reality to it, as the T-rex is contorting in pain. Miller's playing the classic comics grammar game but he's twisting it subtly, hedging the ra-ra blow-em-up stuff a bit.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnkZYxmYwxAKGp8k9OhKUqCzcWBv-aCo7NnsSsDlMwQd3XnNSxOHqBU8u7F_3hk17aYcPU-lgdadbuchKr4-8IK3Y6kBXBss9YlRNbW9KTx12eb2HILex4euqBJfmlL-Yka1cCL5EVVU/s1600/m.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnkZYxmYwxAKGp8k9OhKUqCzcWBv-aCo7NnsSsDlMwQd3XnNSxOHqBU8u7F_3hk17aYcPU-lgdadbuchKr4-8IK3Y6kBXBss9YlRNbW9KTx12eb2HILex4euqBJfmlL-Yka1cCL5EVVU/s400/m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880417624933298" /></a>Miller as Douglas Sirk here. Look at those expressionistic colors and crazy shadows as she cries into her arm. Then, there's Lance, off of the page, unfazed by the woman's emotional outburst or really anything, telling her once she tastes dinosaur meat, she'll change her mood. Lance is the obnoxious dad at the 4th of July BBQ mocking his newly-vegetarian goth girl daughter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uUit020KjoPMdtVMG7dazgrz2AX8npRsYd5-t-tQib0eFvfkge_tswQ3ZttR5lSSQoEVOQmozMmhG33W9vVTtZV290O1N1eWhXOFbqbF1gLXY5H-k9lWoD84B3klsmrESTCVFxkQJYU/s1600/n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 195px; height: 353px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_uUit020KjoPMdtVMG7dazgrz2AX8npRsYd5-t-tQib0eFvfkge_tswQ3ZttR5lSSQoEVOQmozMmhG33W9vVTtZV290O1N1eWhXOFbqbF1gLXY5H-k9lWoD84B3klsmrESTCVFxkQJYU/s400/n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880364809228770" /></a>Notice that Miller's economy stops when it comes to more sensory type stuff. The dinosaur biting the car, the dinosaur blowing up, and now, the woman smelling the cooking dinosaur meat takes up multiple panels.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF_gazAEbQlruDt04vMHkLkRfuiXWvrzDIMVpVI5EOeB1nykCwURDK8ULcsE8YJosd3SEzfgbFpGPd6U10wcb_m3a-0CAeJBr92ooAFduGwr1t_XN9kpDV7rTqtdVPJI6SacgFjkeXSc/s1600/o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 343px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYF_gazAEbQlruDt04vMHkLkRfuiXWvrzDIMVpVI5EOeB1nykCwURDK8ULcsE8YJosd3SEzfgbFpGPd6U10wcb_m3a-0CAeJBr92ooAFduGwr1t_XN9kpDV7rTqtdVPJI6SacgFjkeXSc/s400/o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880275202235634" /></a>More Sirk. She perks up, her tears and worry and supposed values are slowly floating away and the smell of fresh meat takes over.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXvksRZIy6wzLTyWSzBO8pj0ryQOHJq81L7fPzYFVPW-E6vmws1ra6kglvxUW4yGlhQTmv7bMjuSSj_aCchJG1Yd3rhpJM_aVoFYqUw-qXLXPsSCnT824Maawurv6obSQMfE1h2R1Ax4/s1600/p.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXvksRZIy6wzLTyWSzBO8pj0ryQOHJq81L7fPzYFVPW-E6vmws1ra6kglvxUW4yGlhQTmv7bMjuSSj_aCchJG1Yd3rhpJM_aVoFYqUw-qXLXPsSCnT824Maawurv6obSQMfE1h2R1Ax4/s400/p.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506796659399957890" /></a>The red and black color scheme, the attention to her breasts, her hands near her crotch, it seems like Miller's adding some like, weirdo sexual attraction to this bizarre turn of events. This is basically confirmed in the story's climax, with groan-inducing references to "real meat."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AKcbKCBGRYYpMkIrxsFntK-MZasiMMDGuc-9zT4UYD3GMjMv8ddwG1PevUofYhuQwuAyfMQKfojIwtglCXPmaxvIRpRQ_4oWNgkzMQCGnSisar1mvGGQHQr2mRgYS3-VQRkeg5Kl11E/s1600/q.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AKcbKCBGRYYpMkIrxsFntK-MZasiMMDGuc-9zT4UYD3GMjMv8ddwG1PevUofYhuQwuAyfMQKfojIwtglCXPmaxvIRpRQ_4oWNgkzMQCGnSisar1mvGGQHQr2mRgYS3-VQRkeg5Kl11E/s400/q.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880176611637490" /></a>With that "CHOMP" a parallel's drawn between the dinosaur's base desires and the female character's here. This is the conceit of the comic really, that the female character's denying the universe's immutable thirst for violence and will-to-power.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aOPzO_JJlim6bRR2v9uMusyM-qQgjSG92UYsoMFTSGFdmxXtnY57RPA8gi2zx99arHyNo7rJPCPkACZufTNo718JhnMDNJUQ0RSgM9SQunklUCylyrm-Z1Fxm_1Ws-XicpYDr63sYjw/s1600/r.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aOPzO_JJlim6bRR2v9uMusyM-qQgjSG92UYsoMFTSGFdmxXtnY57RPA8gi2zx99arHyNo7rJPCPkACZufTNo718JhnMDNJUQ0RSgM9SQunklUCylyrm-Z1Fxm_1Ws-XicpYDr63sYjw/s400/r.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505880034752779698" /></a>More "CHOMP"s. Lance standing proudly as the female character's is head inside of the T-rex's leg (which is like a chicken leg) and she lets out some orgasmic moans of "yes...Yes!" Despite Miller creating a fairly complex or atypical female character here, he's shifting into pretty basic, painfully obvious parodies of feminism and feminists: That they deny their desires, that they've asexualized themselves, that they just need a good man to change them. Miller's aware he's doing this and parodying that attitude, but he's not exactly deconstructing it. I think Miller knows why that's problematic, but think it's true or closer to true than the wimpy counter perspective.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRIXnsSrTPkgMCnfGiLb7zfardKrLaZWcxeG-FyAlEHyXxNftPcZTz7xTbtj8F5pH03436qOPrB9tqwxr5mQeSfVJxCNyO-jkJZ8xM3v4KYSe6AYCy6rNyxp58P7zGc-tSjO4TNKepQY/s1600/s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 370px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRIXnsSrTPkgMCnfGiLb7zfardKrLaZWcxeG-FyAlEHyXxNftPcZTz7xTbtj8F5pH03436qOPrB9tqwxr5mQeSfVJxCNyO-jkJZ8xM3v4KYSe6AYCy6rNyxp58P7zGc-tSjO4TNKepQY/s400/s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505879937534948530" /></a>Look at how Miller changes her whole look in this panel. She's kinda stoned-looking and evil. She's turned into a femme-fatale (Miller's favorite image of a woman it seems) and she's rejecting all the ideals she spouted in the previous panels. It's at this point that Miller's satire sorta goes off-the-rails or rather, it enters pure Frank Miller territory where it stops making sense or loses all of its nuance and is just sorta malicious and dumb. The strength I think of the story is the satire of the female character's blindness towards reality (seeing the dinosaurs and nature as pure and untainted, even when it attacks her), but Miller turns it into like, worldview-confirming, dream-fulfilling weirdness by having the female character not only be dead wrong about how the world works, but ultimately, on the same page as Lance. She isn't just incorrect, her core being is in-tune with Lance Blastoff.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hf32ynCvtOYt0BiDT_FH5c5i95XqtKJ8_Hsbvf6nb3SdC7KtdCP1P9noo_KXvu05By4VFFunmiG18FmylNQwYWaOX1VkMD2lsWer8V4DfmUXZHMus1yce-yOiT0R9qIe56g3aq9lB_c/s1600/t.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 371px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hf32ynCvtOYt0BiDT_FH5c5i95XqtKJ8_Hsbvf6nb3SdC7KtdCP1P9noo_KXvu05By4VFFunmiG18FmylNQwYWaOX1VkMD2lsWer8V4DfmUXZHMus1yce-yOiT0R9qIe56g3aq9lB_c/s400/t.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506796662294617522" /></a>More kinda sexual imagery. The romance comics-esque embrace, the red and black, the anti-feminist declaration, "a real man."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaDVEoA0GqSz9eXan05PBDo8apf4KC_m_oryuiCz-yGiLq5XYFCnrJyx-3jCk3XQMS2xgS9WaO0fI1xtPZziojKJLDDYp8rpl7Jb4h2b6BjNQAIO2gb2PHxr1d-C31X5xfqbJ0DWBPN4/s1600/u.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 374px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQaDVEoA0GqSz9eXan05PBDo8apf4KC_m_oryuiCz-yGiLq5XYFCnrJyx-3jCk3XQMS2xgS9WaO0fI1xtPZziojKJLDDYp8rpl7Jb4h2b6BjNQAIO2gb2PHxr1d-C31X5xfqbJ0DWBPN4/s400/u.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505879815894954882" /></a>Miller kinda saves himself with this final panel because it's just so goofy and hilarious and once more, shifts the satire to Lance Blastoff's moronic moralizing and over-simplication. This was hardly a comic about why kids should eat lots of meat, right? It's kinda tacked on which is really funny. Also, it did nothing to confirm the benefits of meat or whatever, it just takes them as a given and spends most of its time mocking a wimpy, tree-hugging-ass bitch who eventually comes to her sense and loves um, "real meat". Miller's aware of this and he's kinda having it both ways, mocking Lance's sloganeering and over-the-top macho, but finding just as much, and maybe a bit more wrong with the character that's the antithesis of Lance.brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-79120712509289578722010-08-18T10:29:00.002-04:002010-08-18T10:29:00.061-04:00Frank Miller Week: Miller and Gravity's Rainbow<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqRZDvfPw1HYugjR9to2VuVXGHVUnUD0AsC4y5zs-BABYTh_19MYrtab1y1DCS79tKbvtK3y4rA01Ydq747sHCPWTZOoeZl8ASnCf6G6cFXClhkmckElic-8NhRYE8b8LqMK9wLMAs-5F/s1600/Picture+28.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqRZDvfPw1HYugjR9to2VuVXGHVUnUD0AsC4y5zs-BABYTh_19MYrtab1y1DCS79tKbvtK3y4rA01Ydq747sHCPWTZOoeZl8ASnCf6G6cFXClhkmckElic-8NhRYE8b8LqMK9wLMAs-5F/s400/Picture+28.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506472673616522242" /></a><br /><br />If I had been involved in the decision making which resulted in Frank Miller's commission to illustrate the cover for a new edition of Thomas Pynchon's <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i>, Miller's would likely not have been the first name to come to my mind. Rick Veitch, whose <i>Maximortal</i>, like <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i>, considers some of the dangers inherent in the use of comic book heroes as propaganda, seems an obvious choice. Robert Crumb is another. But sometimes the obvious is not the best, particularly when dealing with a writer as intentionally diversionary as Pynchon. <br /><br />But leaving aside for the moment Miller's suitability for the job, it is important to point out that comics are really central to what Pynchon does in <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i>. The book is too damned long and complicated to get into an extended discussion of what happens, but it is enough to know that it largely takes place in Western Europe during the final months of the Second World War and is concerned in varying degrees with the German V-2 rocket program, race and imperialism, with a healthy dose of scatology and buggery mixed in. <br /><br />The novel's ostensible hero, Lt. Tyrone Slothrop, discovers that a map that he keeps of his sexual conquests in and about London matches precisely with a map of sites targeted by German rockets—Slothrop <b>always</b> comes before the bombs. This leads him to discover that he may have been programmed at birth by a secret cabal of Fascist occultists, known as PISCES, to play some part in the creation of the <i>Raketestadt</i> (Rocket State). Along the way he temporarily assumes the identity of Rocketman, instrument of <i>Raketestadt</i> propaganda, then joins the quixotic quest of the Floundering Four, heroes of the preterite, and is eventually deconstructed and left to languish in a sort of postmodern version of the Negative Zone.<br /><br />Miller's decision to rely on minimalistic, negative imagery nestled in a wildly entropic background is pretty much dead on. Pynchon employs images of sexual violence and scatology in order to convey Nazi propagandists' version of the threat posed by inferior races. Moreover, he does not shy away from the phallic association of rockets—they are more or less the massive steel penises with which the <i>Raketestadt</i> buggers the degenerates of the world. Thus, Miller's stark rocket stenciled into a background of Pollock-y drips and smears conveys pretty succinctly <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i>'s barrage of great white dicks smearing about in shit, semen and the ashes of bombed-out cities.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoTDWy7izdsky66nuUI_VYL112xG1-7uFzGQ7uQlnLSesd2ECDsbhr4f23q0-pLUXKsw-_P7N1mlI436uiOIBftj-OeEkWdHsersP60jhDVRETuT6mYKCGYkt9B3QqzGmlxm1VwYVV7xJ/s1600/Picture+30.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 260px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoTDWy7izdsky66nuUI_VYL112xG1-7uFzGQ7uQlnLSesd2ECDsbhr4f23q0-pLUXKsw-_P7N1mlI436uiOIBftj-OeEkWdHsersP60jhDVRETuT6mYKCGYkt9B3QqzGmlxm1VwYVV7xJ/s400/Picture+30.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506480513592360210" /></a><br />What is doubly interesting about this illustration is that it turns out that Miller returned to the image of a rocket, nosecone down and foregrounded by Superman, on the variant cover of <i>All-Star Batman & Robin the Boy Wonder</i> #4, thus implicitly associating that maligned series with Pynchon's almost universally praised novel. Bizarre though that may sound, when considered in this context, it goes a lot to explain Miller's conception of Superman and the relationship between Superman and Batman in this and his other Batman books. Superman, though ostensibly subjecting himself to the rules and norms of his adoptive planet, is not of our world and is in a position of superiority over humans in pretty much every sense that matters. He thus aligns quite neatly with the propagandistic hero of the elect as envisioned by the psychopaths at PISCES. Batman, on the other hand, is the hero of the preterite. He spends his time in Gotham's slums, wrestling with pimps and defending prostitutes. His day job as billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne is nothing more than a distasteful cover, which allows him to live his real life, wallowing about in the city's piss and shit, unmolested.<br /><br />But while <i>Gravity's Rainbow</i> is perhaps the incredibly cumbersome key to this portion of Miller's oeuvre, this is still the guy who is ostensibly going to launch <i>Holy Terror!</i> on the world. Though, as with much of Miller's more controversial work, this is perhaps not as contradictory as it might seem. While Pynchon was clearly aware of the potential dangers of comic book propaganda, he was also demonstrably anti-Fascist and it would be difficult to argue that he would have opposed the propagandistic aims of many World War II-era comics.david e. ford, jrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13530623430089464503noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-18892695090199478522010-08-17T22:23:00.005-04:002010-08-17T22:42:07.380-04:00Frank Miller Week: Jurassic Park Cover<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAjtWuaGuGWLPyq23EDSzHBdT943_udf-CBkr_45_kYSurtuJZRdiI6THqdILdWgYdBHMpUP_64AqVgiiVLRKQPVBPCw2sOfNqMbqFClHn_ZV04nIgnIAgEdybFKrqNvfB1ptGYMJ9VI/s1600/jurassicpark.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAAjtWuaGuGWLPyq23EDSzHBdT943_udf-CBkr_45_kYSurtuJZRdiI6THqdILdWgYdBHMpUP_64AqVgiiVLRKQPVBPCw2sOfNqMbqFClHn_ZV04nIgnIAgEdybFKrqNvfB1ptGYMJ9VI/s400/jurassicpark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506571495368288642" border="0" /></a><br />"To the left, to the left" is where Beyonce is going to move all your shit when you do wrong. Why left? Most human left hands are non-dominant and religions often revere the right hand/side of the body. So, I guess the left is the less significant side. But we read from LEFT to right. This Frank Miller cover for <i>Jurassic Park</i> plays on our reading from left to right, but because this is such a minimal cover, I feel it's also using the left side to increase the scare-factor. When you first look at the cover, your eyes impulsively go left and follow the dinosaur body down to the human body in its mouth. Your eye hits the body last, as its not even the center point of the image. The right always gets the last word when we're reading, it's where our eyes stop or pause and this cover suggests: Dinosaurs: 1. Human Race: 0.<br /><br />To texturize the skin of the dinosaur and to shade the human, Miller employs chunky, sharp-edged sections of black. This kind of sectioning-off reminds me of Miller disciple Mike Mignola's work more than Miller's own work, but it's a clever trick to the eye, as the same blocky shading/texturizing is present on the back of the dinosaur and the human (the wrinkles in his clothes are especially well-done and strange). The background is a little cheap, using a muted contrast with variations of orange and green in the dinosaur (rather than red), while also looking like a wall your mom decided to sponge-paint back in 1994. Perhaps it's the result of an old veteran like Miller having to confront digital art and computer coloring.<br /><br />But the most annoying aspect of this cover is the blocking lines around the edges of the picture. These would work to better balance and improve composition of the image if they were on the right rather than on the same side as beginnings of the T-rex body. I guess the lines may be there for a textual reason on the completed cover. Like most work from Frank Miller. it's complex and conflicted, nearly schizophrenic and despite its flaws, the cover remains a success because it doesn't look traditional (which is eye grabbing) and it serves its purpose: to make the dinosaur the focus and not the humans--which is what Jurassic Park is all about.Monique R.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07026396492946798863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-61135752644257182682010-08-16T15:35:00.001-04:002010-08-16T15:37:53.722-04:00Frank Miller Week: Miller's Gummy Politics<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuac9sv9A927aLfTE0iJjCbHjQOo36nOcqbpP0l7M70TlxoPujk-8kxpOdvicUUlrzNzJWt0r-l3EM4R008eH3MRstTVb3igIsNyeFe7gPBr596n5GIuPpRiv3k2F6X4E1FY1WZwNSy8Q/s1600/6a00d8341c630a53ef0105365f1604970b-800wi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuac9sv9A927aLfTE0iJjCbHjQOo36nOcqbpP0l7M70TlxoPujk-8kxpOdvicUUlrzNzJWt0r-l3EM4R008eH3MRstTVb3igIsNyeFe7gPBr596n5GIuPpRiv3k2F6X4E1FY1WZwNSy8Q/s400/6a00d8341c630a53ef0105365f1604970b-800wi.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505881932285728546" /></a>Kinda bouncing off <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2010/08/frank-miller-week-elektra.html">what David said</a> about Miller and Moore--or even, Miller vs. Moore--one of the most baffling aspects of comics fandom and comics criticism (which are more of less, one in the same) is the unquestioned love of both Frank Miller and Alan Moore, often by the same people. If you're actually reading these works, there's really no way to be "a fan" of both of them. <br /><br />Sure, one can appreciate both artists and enjoy reading their stuff, but I've met too many people that list both of these guys as their favorites and don't really seem to grasp the themes, ideas, and politics behind the work. Moore is your kinda classic bohemian liberal, tinged with the nihilism and knowingness that many aging left-leaning idealists have. Miller's essentially a hard-line Libertarian and in recent years, especially post-9-11 (which is something that's really infected his rhetoric in pretty much every interview) perhaps something of a nutty, FOX News-style Neo-Con. The only thing they have in common is a very fashionable cynicism.<br /><br />Last year, Sean T. Collins over at Robot6 <a href="http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/2009/10/frank-miller-conservative-comment-thread-commentator">"Frank Miller, conservative comment-thread commentator"</a> pointed out Miller's comments on a Conservative message board. This was interesting not only because it was a quasi-private discussion in public from a comics legend, but because it's a tangible confirmation of where Miller "stands". If you read them, he's sometimes nutty, sometimes smart, usually conflicted--and that's great. <br /><br />Now no one's surprised that Miller's something of a conservative, but that point is often ignored or used as part of the comics nerd in-joke that Frank Miller's essentially, over time, lost his fucking mind. To contrast with his supposed right-wing turn, we're reminded of Superman as Reaganite goon in <i>The Dark Knight</i>, Miller's work with the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund, or black feminist superheroine Martha Washington. And his conservatism's used to explain why <i>All-Star Batman</i> is retarded. And to parse-out the roots of the movie <i>300</i>'s propagandistic qualities. And to mock the apparently no-longer having much to do with Batman, "superhero vs. Al Quaeda" comic <i>Holy Terror!</i>. <br /><br />The thing is, these two supposed "sides" of Miller say more about the way many perceive the right, than anything about Miller. Like Christopher Hitchens, who took a supposed "right turn" after 9-11, it's more the result of readers reading what they wanted to read in the guy's work and assuming a grand, over-arching political understanding because of some key issues in common. Indeed, Miller's work has always been informed by a rarefied mix of Nationalism and Libertarianism. Miller's a smart guy, he's hardly a knee-jerk like most actively liberal comics artists, and he's well aware of the full extent of his politics, and is comfortable taking them to their logical, complex, sometimes not-so-pretty end. With superhero comics, that's pretty much always the uneasy attraction and repulsion we have towards vigiliante-ism. This is something I'm going to work out in some longer pieces later on, but I'd encourage everyone who's been so skeptical of Miller's recent work, to go back and look at his older work and finds the connections.brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-41622207026232636452010-08-16T12:12:00.003-04:002010-08-16T18:12:50.565-04:00Frank Miller Week: Reading Elektra<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIIokp6rNhWTtUOhpL7uZqxMmII2rUH8d_riqM9cr6d-FoY1iUWyhjHcHskWuK1D8D-Fq0VNa6xTjV3oZj-PGoEgYOSyVY_2N99TCIQqgPJJ_euiq1QHxBXgk1g01PBA6AK9bF4CtSCjo/s1600/miller+week+snow+white+elektra.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIIokp6rNhWTtUOhpL7uZqxMmII2rUH8d_riqM9cr6d-FoY1iUWyhjHcHskWuK1D8D-Fq0VNa6xTjV3oZj-PGoEgYOSyVY_2N99TCIQqgPJJ_euiq1QHxBXgk1g01PBA6AK9bF4CtSCjo/s400/miller+week+snow+white+elektra.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505905673450611858" /></a><br /><br />There is really no analogue for Frank Miller's Elektra anywhere in mainstream comics. She isn't a superhero, though neither is she a villain, in the strict sense of the term. Her origin, as it were, is rooted in familiar generic tropes, and yet these lead her along a very different path than that followed by the typical costumed warrior. For most of her appearances, she is inextricably tied to the psychic narrative of Daredevil/Matt Murdock, but you just have to read the exceptional <i>Elektra Assassin</i> to understand that this Hellenic pugilist has plenty of her own shit to deal with. Indeed, while there are a few definitive things that can be concluded about the impact of Miller's Elektra tales, it is just possible that her most profound significance is her intoxicating inscrutability. <br /><br />In considering Elektra, particularly her initial appearances in the mainline <i>Daredevil</i> book, it is important to remember that Miller began writing these stories some five years before Alan Moore's purportedly ground-breaking <i>Watchmen</i> hit the shelves. I mention this because if you consider Moore's stated intention in composing <i>Watchmen</i>—to show just how batty superheroes would be if they lived in the 'real' world—you have to conclude that Miller had already been doing exactly that (and doing it in a much more affecting and believable way than Moore ever would) half-a-decade before Moore's self-involved buffoons were even a twinkle in their creator's myopic eye.<br /><br />Lest you think I'm simply taking an opportunistic swipe at <i>Watchmen</i>, I think this is a really important point. It is clear that like Moore, Miller believes that someone would have to be batshit crazy to be a superhero—or super-assassin, in the case of Elektra. But unlike his British counterpart, Miller reasonably surmises that there would likely be some overwhelming psychic trauma as the underlying cause, rather than olympic-level self-involvement. <br /><br />What separates Elektra from Daredevil, what leads her to become an assassin, rather than a hero like her irrepressibly moral lover, is the fact that the death of her father triggered a collapse of her world view. While I don't think it is particularly useful to linger over the specifics of superhero origins, it is important to recognize Elektra's transformation as the slide toward nihilism that it is. For one thing, it is humanly more understandable—at least for me. But even more importantly, it helps to demonstrate that Daredevil and Elektra are two sides of the same coin—or at least suffering from the same philosophical misconception.<br /><br />What I mean by this is that both characters are hampered—in a way, both are ultimately doomed—by their failure to recognize the constructed-ness of their respective world views. For Daredevil, this is the source of his crippling obsession with Elektra, both before and after her death: committing himself at once to saving her life, imprisoning her and ultimately relentlessly reliving his 'guilt' over her death. Of course the consequences for Elektra are more profound and ultimately more tragic, but this is what makes <b>reading</b> Elektra so rewarding.<br /><br />The best literary creations are those that transfix despite our ability to recognize their flaws. I am not comparing Elektra to, say, Milton's Satan, but I am suggesting that they operate on the same principle. I am haunted by Elektra, whether it is the living assassin from <i>Daredevil</i>, or the hallucinatory specter of <i>Elektra Lives Again</i>, or even the batshit apparatchik of <i>Elektra Assassin</i>, the same way Matt Murdock is haunted by Elektra. <br /><br />And this is a pretty important observation because most of the time that Murdock dwells on Elektra in the stories she is absent. Thus, in a way, Murdock is 'reading' Elektra, in much the same way that I am reading her. While this is certainly the case before her death at the hands of Bullseye, this notion of Murdock interpreting Elektra takes on added significance after her demise. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZKEOC3HxY8g_JMlauRzDPcUkN_4jpO1RitdZd4DqdkdU8fJMMpgJeEqdCDKMFLv_AmjKu9wJAVn1L19OVgOuLwd9SxBUxKgGXkWuWNMVqmkzPkytXdRhcVt-m1TAb-H1eRN1-I2ffP9ko/s1600/miller+week+mad+matt+elektra.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZKEOC3HxY8g_JMlauRzDPcUkN_4jpO1RitdZd4DqdkdU8fJMMpgJeEqdCDKMFLv_AmjKu9wJAVn1L19OVgOuLwd9SxBUxKgGXkWuWNMVqmkzPkytXdRhcVt-m1TAb-H1eRN1-I2ffP9ko/s400/miller+week+mad+matt+elektra.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505905665817519266" /></a><br />Nowhere is this more important than in <i>Elektra Lives Again</i>. In typical Miller style, the reader (and Murdock, for that matter) is initially left guessing as to whether the reappearance of Elektra is genuine or if it is a figment of the lawyer/hero's tortured mind. But this is just a ploy and the real significance of this superb story is in Murdock's painstaking insertion of himself into the moments of Elektra's life from which he is most alienated. Thus, while Murdock may see himself as somehow protecting his departed former lover, what he is really doing is 'reading' the gaps in her biography so that he can ultimately let her go.<br /><br />One <a href="http://goodcomics.blogspot.com/2006/02/why-frank-miller-is-fascist-writer.html">blogger</a> has suggested that Miller only knows how to write two sorts of female character: the woman who is created to be killed, and the woman who is really a man. While Miller may have known that Elektra would die when he first introduced the character, I do not think that this in any way lessens the significance of the character. In a way, Miller's Daredevil is more defined by Elektra than the other way round, or at least this is so in my reading of the stories. However you interpret her, though, Elektra is clearly one of Miller's most inspired creations.david e. ford, jrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13530623430089464503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-89476169635156720072010-08-16T00:55:00.006-04:002010-08-16T01:11:19.584-04:00Frank Miller Week!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZRwCjTndEy9KdkLU8gKqmmLXcvjo3-RRpjRRN7KcGPi9lwZd0AlWEWBtm2Et318PgMx8K28Vs87PBb3bhT6PXrrdCZk8WTHVncxF_air8Tecf7NWYuA8BKPq3PvGXOg0LHxIPcNUIjQ/s1600/Frank_Miller.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZRwCjTndEy9KdkLU8gKqmmLXcvjo3-RRpjRRN7KcGPi9lwZd0AlWEWBtm2Et318PgMx8K28Vs87PBb3bhT6PXrrdCZk8WTHVncxF_air8Tecf7NWYuA8BKPq3PvGXOg0LHxIPcNUIjQ/s400/Frank_Miller.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505866873899376642" /></a>Why Frank Miller week? Why not. Though we usually try to wrap our theme weeks around some current comics event, it seemed appropriate to tackle the quasi-grizzled, bat-shit crazy, mainstream comics game-changer without thinking about it too much. Miller is also of course, <i>the</i> big, looming figure over smart-dumb comics and there can never really be enough analysis and argument about his work. The guy's both incredibly overrated and incredibly underrated. Loved by "entry-level" comics fans and enlightened fans surrounded by whiteboxes of 70s Marvel, and fundamentally misread by both of those groups, Frank Miller's exactly the kind of figure we're all attracted to over on this blog. So, all this week we're going-in on Frank Miller. Should be fun. Use that "comment" button and join in, and provide links to any pieces you've written (or end up writing) if you're moved to do so.brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-5447950712934037152010-08-06T08:00:00.001-04:002010-08-06T12:12:29.953-04:00Wake Up Wake Up It's The Best Of The Month: July 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kGzuzBGFdnsbUz00yE83aV8ofD6FEv4edtc34kuZTVTtCn_0JjPwvO1XXHphEuuRCvK4mrXcfI9400xWp08Kko-0zlnm87hs_j-wn63CK9EOGsc8R3aFC1M8sn9hfpKbJ7k5zpaefDve/s1600/Picture+6.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9kGzuzBGFdnsbUz00yE83aV8ofD6FEv4edtc34kuZTVTtCn_0JjPwvO1XXHphEuuRCvK4mrXcfI9400xWp08Kko-0zlnm87hs_j-wn63CK9EOGsc8R3aFC1M8sn9hfpKbJ7k5zpaefDve/s320/Picture+6.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501013895203963826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Bulletproof Coffin #2</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> by David Hine and Shaky Kane</span><br /><br />This issue continues the series' meta-comics thread, wrestling around with themes of escapism, and once again, it's done in an intelligent, complex, but very <i>comics</i> manner. The pull of this issue is the fleshing-out of the Steve character, who comes off equal parts pathetic and sympathetic. His home life's pretty awful (meaningless sex, fat annoying kids, etc.) and his reasons for escape pretty obvious, but it's the form of escapism that solidifies the character. Even his escapism inactive and non-commital: "The costume chooses you!" And really Steve does what plenty of depressed nerds do--he reads a comics and pretends he's the comic book character. Hine basically wrote the worst fanboy one could imagine (quite different from the type parodied ad-nauseum in the media, mind you) and it just so happens that the worst fanboy is also Hine's best friend. Pushed along by Shaky Kane's pop-art Darrow style, Hine grabs onto all that's great about comics and stuffs it in their book, but aren't afraid to call bullshit on the medium's faults.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVclhFh79oOF2rxgiktqYlqawHlLjyj1YcasdGf5RjwnJJQE-LxTJnesK8BEErwtU4Q2Bgy2M7GcCS3MTtSqKUE8bFLhwvJF64QbKS81QnPIH5P7D0CClP8Z0DQvgkYh31_GkQh1FEZjKu/s1600/Picture+5.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVclhFh79oOF2rxgiktqYlqawHlLjyj1YcasdGf5RjwnJJQE-LxTJnesK8BEErwtU4Q2Bgy2M7GcCS3MTtSqKUE8bFLhwvJF64QbKS81QnPIH5P7D0CClP8Z0DQvgkYh31_GkQh1FEZjKu/s320/Picture+5.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501010465809768098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Red Mass for Mars #4 by Jonathan Hickman and Ryan Bodenheim </span><br /><br />When <i>All-Star Superman</i> finally came to a close, I was instantly disappointed. I was so excited for the final issue, that when I first read through it all I could think about was, “This is it?” After letting it sink-in and reading it <i>a couple</i> more times, I finally began to make sense of it and realized how well-done it actually was. The same thing happened with <i>Red Mass for Mars</i> #4. Of course, Bodenheim’s extraordinary artwork and colors are a highlight, but at first glance there’s not much going on here other than a big battle and even that, has a strange distance to it. It feels more like a flashback of a battle--like in a comic or movie when a character provides exposition of some great, universe-altering war--but, it's just Hickman's quasi-mythic style and the issue's about Mars deciding the fate of mankind.<br /><br />Each issue has been framed around a different view of Utopia. The last issue dealt with Equality: Through a Mars-founded superhero coalition, they virtually eliminated crime and created a society that was "equal". Then, <i>that</i> society failed. At the beginning of this issue, Mars sees the dark side of himself in the form of an enemy commander. He's at a crossroads, which isn't a place you see super-powerful characters in comics very often. Mars will either run away as he did before or take a stand and fight. <br /><br />What ultimately moves Mars towards the more noble of those choices is his memories with the other superheroes. He recalls their sacrifices in battles and it ultimately, moves him to sacrifice himself for Earth. This final issue's utopian ideal is Fraternity, an ideal deeply rooted in experience and one that can only be achieved by moving through the three previous stages. Note too that Mars is the catalyst for the book's "Fraternity" theme, that it's his active thoughts and decisions that solidify it, and also note that it's through violence (in comics <i>the</i> experience) that this utopian ideal's achieved. Mars is basically Superman, only he's made more complex and real and flawed (he's like a Greek god in that sense) and so, he contains both the best and worst of humanity within him. He's still a widescreen comic book epic hero but he's much more complex and less glamorous. Hickman though, ends the issue on a wizened but hopeful note, with peace and perhaps utopia there temporarily. Yet Mars' actions hang around in the background, hinting at the inevitable fate of every person (death) and the reality that gut-level, non-utopian things like acts of violence are part of the natural order.<br /><br /><ahem><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWVC3VsKQC5WFHl6Vwd7cwkKqIFmN-NczBMdH2IYcFxpJ2pIKoHAVZjZ0W_SXevtq0i8hyphenhyphen0Bbj_ZwBmBdSfIVnU1DB4y7CxWH39cN_CBb9V-uboma1atHvQWM0bsCznASWCXtzV8htfuc/s1600/Picture+2.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijWVC3VsKQC5WFHl6Vwd7cwkKqIFmN-NczBMdH2IYcFxpJ2pIKoHAVZjZ0W_SXevtq0i8hyphenhyphen0Bbj_ZwBmBdSfIVnU1DB4y7CxWH39cN_CBb9V-uboma1atHvQWM0bsCznASWCXtzV8htfuc/s320/Picture+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500984699765157362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">RASL </span>#8 by Jeff Smith</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">RASL</span> is such a weirdly perfect series. It comes out every couple of months so it’s hard to remember the exact plot points, but when you pick up a new issue, the series' eerie but earnest world is vivid again and all the tiny details come back. What's really great about <i>RASL</i> is that it has this elaborate plot but its rarely the focus on the comic. When the first page of an issue begins with a perfectly penciled and inked beat-up face from Smith and the quote, "It's never too late to fix it. That's what I've always believed," it's just instantly engaging regardless of plot details and continuity concerns. It feels fresh and exciting like a brand new comic. The previous issue of <i>RASL</i> got a little too bogged down with plot points and those way too late references to the Patriot Act just felt off. This issue though, steers away from that and focuses on something small but significant: Rasl's relationship with Maya.<br /><br />From <i>Bone</i>, it's clear that Jeff Smith is a world-builder--the sort of guy that gently places details into a narrative until the reader's eyes are opened to the whole picture. In the beginning of the series, Rasl's sleeping with Annie, who appears to be a round after his relationship with Maya. But here, we see Annie and Rasl together at the same time that he's with Maya, and it's Annie that gives him the advice to stop seeing her. In a series that flirts with time and time-travel conventions and concerns, it's cool to see Smith employing the actual narrative and hiding or rearranging details and having them mess with the reader's timeline and knowledge of events.<br /><br />But the center of this isn't some <i>Inception</i>-like narrative trickery, but the emotions and personalities of these characters. Smith begins showing Maya as perhaps a little off her rocker. When she says, "I feel like I’m the conduit between two scientific geniuses – helping you both to greater heights," it's probably one of the strangest, most disorienting moments in the whole series and it has nothing to do with trippy time-travel physics. That line, the expression on Maya's face, and Rasl's wordless reaction feel very real, like you can feel the awkward pauses as if it were happening in front of you. That moment too, fills the scene with tension that builds and builds until Maya leaves. The issue's second half deals with the strange little girl that was introduced earlier in the series. Her overt strangeness actually falls flat though compared to very-real weird stuff between Rasl and Maya, and it ends up really just furthering the plot along.<br /><br /><br />Also: King City #10, </ahem><span style="font-size:100%;">Abe Sapien: The Abyssal Plain #2</span>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-60573672582858952252010-07-22T17:44:00.002-04:002010-07-22T17:58:53.397-04:00Wrestling with the Crimson Pig: The Perverse Genius of Porco Rosso<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlBLUsgWHHpXJY7yAPuB95gCa_aYxKOpbr2llXxHLbI5ey97myIlQkWG_6loaIU5g9oJHUgXYSgUD6aY7rp2Z90L85jBSC11w_PJFHuFqv3m_TpXt-B3b4sNal1PZZXdudwG01k5UC_Fn/s1600/porco+rosso+cinema+mag.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlBLUsgWHHpXJY7yAPuB95gCa_aYxKOpbr2llXxHLbI5ey97myIlQkWG_6loaIU5g9oJHUgXYSgUD6aY7rp2Z90L85jBSC11w_PJFHuFqv3m_TpXt-B3b4sNal1PZZXdudwG01k5UC_Fn/s400/porco+rosso+cinema+mag.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496847053560997618" /></a><br /><br />One of my projects this summer has been (and continues to be) to spend as much time with my brainy pipsqueak of a ten-year old nephew, introducing him to some of my favorite comics and, most particularly, the movies of Hayao Miyazaki. Miyazaki's films are of course well known for their broad appeal among audiences of all ages, but re-viewing the film the other day with the aforementioned pipsqueak, I was particularly struck by the notion that the director's early-90s dogfight-fest <i>Porco Rosso</i> is a strange and wonderful film that cannot really be considered a children's movie at all.<br /><br /><i>Porco Rosso</i> stands out in the director's oeuvre in a number of obvious ways: its setting is historically and geographically identifiable and, excepting the fact that the hero is an anthropomorphic pig, the film eschews any significant fantastical elements. This is not to say, however, that the movie falls under the rubric of narrative realism. Indeed, <i>Porco Rosso</i> is a more or less pure expression of the sort of Romanticism associated with the poets of the last great phase of the 'movement' in Britain, particularly Byron and Shelley, but more on this later.<br /><br />Another genuine oddity of <i>Porco Rosso</i> stems from the decided conclusion that the movie doesn't really have a plot, at least not in the fully realized, feature film sense. This is in part attributable to the film's source and the circumstances of production. The genesis for <i>Porco Rosso</i> was a 15-page watercolor manga published in English as <i>The Age of the Flying Boat</i>. As Miyazaki recounts in an interview which appeared in the July 1993 issue of <i>Animerica</i>, <i>Porco Rosso</i> was originally intended to be "a 45-minute film exclusively for screening on international flights," but as the film kept growing it was determined that the only hope for recouping the spiraling costs would be to release it as a feature film.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7bzMQWw1D4DrEnGrmavhNhousw4yh7y-YJ-mjVqUgWtadRVq9PUufvX-XEqTneTTP5xpUQlqqncOn5tAW4tH2x7vjhh0Npx5vjp-SARD5ILf6h1W0JCgWGeWGDjvnsdSjLNEbf-GAC50/s1600/porco+rosso+age+of+the+flying+boat+mammut+title.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7bzMQWw1D4DrEnGrmavhNhousw4yh7y-YJ-mjVqUgWtadRVq9PUufvX-XEqTneTTP5xpUQlqqncOn5tAW4tH2x7vjhh0Npx5vjp-SARD5ILf6h1W0JCgWGeWGDjvnsdSjLNEbf-GAC50/s400/porco+rosso+age+of+the+flying+boat+mammut+title.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496588163963614690" /></a><br />That same issue of <i>Animerica</i> reprints the first five pages of Miyazaki's original manga, roughly corresponding to the film's opening set piece, in which Porco—or Marco, as the pilot is properly named—foils the Mamma Aiuto gang's piracy of a pleasure craft, securing half of the captured gold and rescuing the gaggle of intrepid young girls taken hostage by the pirates. This scene plays out a bit differently in the manga and these differences are instructive in understanding how just how strangely subversive <i>Porco Rosso</i> is.<br /><br />Rather than flying off with an entire classroom full of pre-pubescent girls, as they do in the film, the Mammut Gang, as they are called in the comic, pointedly bring just one adolescent girl along with them as a hostage. Moreover, the pirates are singled out as having a particular predilection for beautiful young girls—indeed, Marco himself twice refers to the pirates as having a "Lolita complex." This pointed allusion to a possible sexual motive for the pirates' hostage taking is belied by the gang's strictly mercenary behavior. When the young girl jumps from their plane after Marco has shot it down, the pirates lament the loss of their "source of revenue." <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn-D6VVixoAbcMnNXSpXv_ERQm5YWie-8ZZc6AMz00jIJ0zRi2ULOb82p7HNlARoD2TuO2hUpKcFvaXFkmc1RIGnZPRg_xIKmbPa2byhYk-if7Jf0WJHuDBYLXbr1MA6qUfairxfpT5B-/s1600/porco+rosso+darger+girls+harass+pirates.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn-D6VVixoAbcMnNXSpXv_ERQm5YWie-8ZZc6AMz00jIJ0zRi2ULOb82p7HNlARoD2TuO2hUpKcFvaXFkmc1RIGnZPRg_xIKmbPa2byhYk-if7Jf0WJHuDBYLXbr1MA6qUfairxfpT5B-/s400/porco+rosso+darger+girls+harass+pirates.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496607530510578610" /></a><br />But while the explicit references to sexuality in the comic are undermined by the behavior of the pirates, thus neutralizing any sense of sexual menace, the situation is reversed in the film. At first glance, the substitution of a dozen or so pre-pubescent girls for the manga's solitary adolescent beauty seems to remove any hint of the sexual danger suggested by the comic. However, close consideration of the young girls' fearless and playful response to their captors and the succession of images of half-dressed water nymphs crawling all over these grown men and their undeniably phallic machines reveals the film's version of events to be paradoxically far more transgressive.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ncdm_NrXtnEmRFNVf4-aw3ccpbijjULe4Hw7yQ_dL1VpPQrZi7DSs2geRU_kKYWiM5kpYp12I3M0SL03PaeedvVUojOdbuCL_G7E_EyGcQj5xNs5KIfo9cgyLFRoiP8-iS0VRasFcRqz/s1600/porco+rosso+naked+children.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ncdm_NrXtnEmRFNVf4-aw3ccpbijjULe4Hw7yQ_dL1VpPQrZi7DSs2geRU_kKYWiM5kpYp12I3M0SL03PaeedvVUojOdbuCL_G7E_EyGcQj5xNs5KIfo9cgyLFRoiP8-iS0VRasFcRqz/s400/porco+rosso+naked+children.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496588187540217298" /></a><br />One need look no further than Richard Hughes's intoxicating 1929 novel <i>A High Wind in Jamaica</i> to find a quasi-canonical literary analog to the events chronicled in the film's opening. In Hughes's novel, a ship carrying the children of British expats living in Jamaica back to England is set upon by a crew of pirates at least as bumbling and ineffectual as the Mamma Aiuto gang. When the children are taken hostage by the pirates, they become almost animalistic inhabitants of the ship, just as the young girls captured by the Mamma Aiuto gang do in <i>Porco Rosso</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRQJdpeW6rM_GW4Q8qaQCbkirBcg0oXwcOpoPydUumtcQgMn7GziSuuAEf425ppJKUGlS5lp-9Gm8UqDCEn2WxQqA_zxwXk9qOguByhXKb7i5UaPooKuWuhCRfK5LgPUWd4jKvT4WLUxS/s1600/porco+rosso+a+high+wind+in+jamaica.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRQJdpeW6rM_GW4Q8qaQCbkirBcg0oXwcOpoPydUumtcQgMn7GziSuuAEf425ppJKUGlS5lp-9Gm8UqDCEn2WxQqA_zxwXk9qOguByhXKb7i5UaPooKuWuhCRfK5LgPUWd4jKvT4WLUxS/s400/porco+rosso+a+high+wind+in+jamaica.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496588163089558658" /></a><br />What is interesting about <i>A High Wind in Jamaica</i> is Hughes's refusal to romanticize childhood. With the children aboard, the pirate ship is steeped in violent and sexual animal energy—in part exuding from the pirates themselves, but equally, if not more so, from the children. <br /><br />One of the more puzzling aspects about <i>Porco Rosso</i> is Porco's largely unexplained ambivalence toward women, displayed in his turbulent relationship with seductive bar owner Gina, but even more exaggeratedly in his attitude toward the teenage creator of his improved seaplane, Fio. Fio is a bundle of latent sexual energy, profoundly affecting all the men around her, and Porco is clearly uncomfortable with this from the beginning. Porco's discomfort with sexuality, displayed in its turn when he rescues the young girls from the pirates, in his relationship with Gina and in the strong parental yet still somehow more intimate bond he establishes with Fio, may in fact be related to his transformation into a pig.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zpix5e8GTIm3WLAQ5eXRo2TBDYesnkCOeg0AmQOp-ypgJtH2uTKRgKbhNRtpYtc5kV3SmiYrGxkwwiyAv88iYu74ea3IB-ij5iyKKfd79MnpAPiaN_qVNX_ohX-wMlm8_y08P-WTRBf_/s1600/porco+rosso+fio+monocoque.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zpix5e8GTIm3WLAQ5eXRo2TBDYesnkCOeg0AmQOp-ypgJtH2uTKRgKbhNRtpYtc5kV3SmiYrGxkwwiyAv88iYu74ea3IB-ij5iyKKfd79MnpAPiaN_qVNX_ohX-wMlm8_y08P-WTRBf_/s400/porco+rosso+fio+monocoque.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496847034301462914" /></a><br />Though the reasons for his porcine state are never adequately explained, what becomes clear as the film progresses is that it seems strongly tied to a sense of self-loathing in the character. Porco vandalized the only surviving photograph of the human Marco, scratching out his former face until it is unrecognizable. Moreover, when Fio comes straight out and asks how he was turned into a pig, his response, that "all middle aged men are pigs," is telling in spite of its obviousness.<br /><br />Though I don't think it would be fruitful to speculate on some sort of explanation for Porco's self-loathing in some imagined past events, this detail fits in with his overall Byronic character. It is also of a piece with his obsession with aviation, which burdens Porco with an implicit death wish. Not to take this too far, but Porco's obsession with airplanes and aviation echoes somewhat the nautical obsession of the English Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. Shelley met his ultimate end in a somewhat mysterious sailing accident—some have suggested that his boat had been set upon by pirates—in his newly custom-built vessel off the shores of Northern Italy, leaving his creative and much younger wife Mary a widow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixF7oA5EV_yrsDsF25EwwS9o-XtyYpQRjXRhGIUOvGGm2nLrm36Rtc3GO6CSMImf6TW3pislIpXZsaXNLCH_PFgkqWkkL-oESqkZwgZkv8ILVUAf9yhyphenhyphen5hCD3rGYaH7buJyrHErKBm-cYi/s1600/porco+rosso+age+of+the+flying+boat+monocoque.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixF7oA5EV_yrsDsF25EwwS9o-XtyYpQRjXRhGIUOvGGm2nLrm36Rtc3GO6CSMImf6TW3pislIpXZsaXNLCH_PFgkqWkkL-oESqkZwgZkv8ILVUAf9yhyphenhyphen5hCD3rGYaH7buJyrHErKBm-cYi/s400/porco+rosso+age+of+the+flying+boat+monocoque.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496588173612646594" /></a><br />The end of <i>Porco Rosso</i>, like pretty much all of the film, is even more vague and ambivalent than Shelley's demise. We can guess from Curtis's remark that Fio's kiss has restored Marco's human visage, but this is perhaps more of a typically Miyazakian recourse to fairy tale tropes than any definitive statement of redemption. We also know from Fio's closing narration that Porco ultimately evades his Fascist pursuers. But Porco's feud with the Fascists seems more a gesture of individualism than a statement of deeply held political conviction. In a way, then, it is almost unfortunate that movie is not still known here by its original title, <i>Crimson Pig</i>. By saddling the character with such an explicitly inflammatory label, the film simply completes the aura of ambivalence and danger that surrounds the porcine ace.david e. ford, jrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13530623430089464503noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-11597175535862421822010-07-16T04:49:00.004-04:002010-07-16T19:51:12.288-04:00Why Iron Man 2 Is Better Than The Dark Knight<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7lmwJxhYGVbwBrD37tODVBya5ixnFj22xKtloYil9NWtyhgcuyOYE7uKn_NRy73QoZ7ZUjOC3NTOVaF2BTuZZ7KrZ4r0hBGhyphenhyphenRn1w6uSNQsnW-CNhucNOOaqeT4obEiekOvx5Cui3SY/s1600/4176301490_d4ab5c865c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7lmwJxhYGVbwBrD37tODVBya5ixnFj22xKtloYil9NWtyhgcuyOYE7uKn_NRy73QoZ7ZUjOC3NTOVaF2BTuZZ7KrZ4r0hBGhyphenhyphenRn1w6uSNQsnW-CNhucNOOaqeT4obEiekOvx5Cui3SY/s400/4176301490_d4ab5c865c.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494654114816776546" /></a>It's curious how <i>The Dark Knight</i> became canonical while <i>Iron Man 2</i>--which is starting its slow death to DVD at the dollar theater right now--got the shaft. Both attempt an "In These Times" contextualization of their heroes, but only the latter does so with the understanding that social commentary is nothing new to comics, or life in general, and thus carries it off with genial aplomb.<br /><br />Tony Stark, like Bruce Wayne, loosely fits the Randian hero framework. He’s a billionaire industrialist whose technology is seen as unwieldy in private hands, is considered a menace to societal stability and faces the threat of collectivization by deadweight bureaucrats who can’t appreciate or understand his will to power.<br /><br /><i>The Dark Knight</i>, though, has superficial insight into ineffectual bureaucracy and its vulnerability to corruption, chalking it up to either one large buyout by the mob or, later, an inability to deal with unconventional, ahistorical terror (kind of like how <i>Blue Velvet</i>’s critique of the White Picket Fence’s placid illusion relies entirely on the outta nowhere psychotic city mobster Frank), inadvertently leaving essential questions about representative government and what it takes to build a passably democratic system entirely out of the picture.<br /><br /><i>Iron Man</i> 2, on the other hand, is grounded in the real world complications of the military-industrial complex, where Tony Stark, claiming to have “successfully privatized world peace,” is really just compromising to avert what essentially would be a governmental monopoly on the same thing. At the hearing over what should be done with Stark’s invention, Senator Stern hollowly invokes “the American people” even though both of them work outside the public interest (with Stern using rival corporate figurehead Justin Hammer to co-opt Stark’s technology on behalf of the US military, and Stark coasting on the benefits of being a public superhero with private property).<br /><br /><i>The Dark Knight</i> takes most of that for granted. Where most of the moral dilemma in <i>The Dark Knight</i> turns on the question of who should be allowed to regulate crime: vigilante Wayne or the government as epitomized by “White Knight” Harvey Dent, the arsenal provided by military hardware specialist Lucius Fox is only considered nominally transgressive in the film’s final moral dilemma over the use of mass-wiretapping to catch the Joker.<br /><br />From the start of the first film in the <i>Iron Man</i> franchise, cause and effect in relation to military technology is the core of the moral dilemma, taking it from a realistically unprogressive epiphany on Stark’s part that “it’s hurting our boys” to a whole plot point resting on the connection between the arms industry, the military and international weapons trafficking, with Stark’s plans to shut down the arms wing of Stark enterprises and focus on alternative energy invoking shareholder wrath. In no way does it exclude the glitzy, pyrotechnic allure of the technology and its seductive prowess, making the <i>Iron Man</i> franchise a wholly subversive deconstruction of the military’s technologically advanced weaponry wrapped in a self-aware plug for it.<br /><br /><i>Iron Man </i>2 is also firmly rooted in history, assessing Stark’s “will to power” in the context of the Cold War, subverting the heroic theory of invention by showing the privilege afforded Stark in having been on the winning side. The villain, Ivan Vanko, is the son of Stark’s father’s partner-in-development, a similarly brilliant but unfortunately Russian scientist cast out by the U.S. government on suspicion of character. Dying without the means to realize his vision, poor and unacknowledged for his contributions, the legacy left to his son is a brilliant scientific mind wasted by an arbitrary political turnout.<br /><br />The Joker, meanwhile, has no back-story, which is flaunted by the filmmakers as some transcendent bird-flipping in the form of pat explanations (an insult to the audience who sat through the two hours of exposition that was <i>Batman Begins</i>). Basically, he’s an enigmatic evil whose <i>Deus ex Machina</i> lunacy becomes a ticking time bomb exercise in “the ends justify the means.”<br /><br />The Joker has a cynical view of mankind that has led him to transcend societal norms but not at the expense of making sure everyone knows that they’re capable of being forced to break those norms, too. His preferred method involves placing random kidnapped targets in compromising situations that will force them to act out of base self-interest and in spite of ethical standards. And so begins a debate whose answer is little surprise to anyone familiar with literature documenting human behavior in concentration camps, or the Milgram or Stanford Prison experiments, even just those <i>Saw</i> movies.<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: normal;font-size:medium;"></span></span></span></span><br /><div>Vanko’s villainy is an identifiable, sympathetic vengeance that carries with it a pointed critique of public relations techniques used to rehabilitate the pasts of shady personages, companies and countries in the public mind, powerfully corroborated by the sequel starting off with Stark having learned nothing, going back to his old ways after capitalizing on the public’s affection for his alter ego. Though the film kind of whitewashes Stark’s father’s past as a World of Tomorrow beacon for alternative energy, in the context of the preceding exposition it’s reminiscent of Werner Herzog’s turn in <i>Julien Donkey-Boy</i>, where just because he’s philosophically astute doesn’t exculpate him from being an asshole. <br /><br />Both films make statements about the post-9/11 “war on terror” with its changing rules of engagement, but whereas <i>The Dark Knight</i>’s villain is symbolic to the point of being problematic, <i>Iron Man </i>2 has a sense of history that pushes the truth of how wars or adversarial stances don’t end but are put off, merely setting up the lingering after-effects. 9/11 and the “war on terror” deal with agents of chaos whose historical narratives and philosophies are inextricably tied with the society they target, creating an overlap of implication that equalizes culpability in violence, not postmodern menaces whose actions accidentally overlap with those of the governments they target.<br /><br /><i>Iron Man </i> 2 also has subtle insight into sex and race in the upper echelons of power. Whereas <i>The Dark Knight</i> casts Morgan Freeman in his usual supplementary role as a wise, useful hand and Rachel Dawes is merely a volleyball between two dynamic males, <i>Iron Man</i> 2 comments on the precarious positions both Rhodey and Pepper Potts face as black and female officials, respectively, in high-ranking positions. While Tony Stark is allowed to be a wild card, indulge in swaggering debauchery, and play highly destructive games of cops and robbers, Pepper Potts has to take care of the paperwork while Rhodey has to handle the PR.<br /><br />Both films have a spare but pointed usage of pop music highlighting the discrepancy between Stark and Rhodey’s boundaries. In the first film, on a private jet, Rhodey attempts injecting a level of gravity into Stark’s experimental shenanigans while Stark puts on a Ghostface Killah video, gets some Sake and orders his flight attendant to strip for him, Rhodey losing it in the process (perhaps a joke on Terence Howard’s professed disavowal of rap music). In the sequel Rhodey crashes a private party at Stark’s mansion. Stark, drunk in full Iron Man regalia, tells his Jewish DJ (the late Crazy Town member Adam Goldstein) to put on a rap and pop medley, while Rhodey, putting on a prototype and excluding himself from “getting down,” locks Stark in a game of battle bots in order to knock some sense into him. <br /><br />Stark (and importantly, not the director) filters Pepper through the Madonna/Whore complex, seeing her as a symbol of purity, a saving grace and real love interest he can set aside his womanizing of floozies for. She, meanwhile, has to assess public perception knowing that her genuine hard work keeping Tony in line and generally functional while also running his company for him could be compromising. If she gets entangled in what could possibly just be an impulsive, if slightly matured, libidinal urge, she could get branded a gold digger who slept her way to the top in the process.<br /><br /><i>Iron Man </i> 2, importantly, has a sense of humor, like Sam Rockwell’s turn as Stark wannabe Justin Hammer, a hilariously meta in-joke referencing the initial consideration of Rockwell for the part of Stark before it was handed to Downey, Jr. It doesn’t forget that it’s Hollywood entertainment but is smart enough to realize that it’s not an either-or dichotomy, instead expressing a wide variety of emotions more reflective on human discourse than Batman’s one-note plodding.<br /><br />Unlike the mostly humorless Wayne, Stark doesn’t brood depressively underneath the weight of the world, instead sardonically playing the greased machinations of politics for the farce it is, trading scathing ripostes with everyone from the still funny underneath that Botox Gary Shandling to really anyone he comes into contact with. That <i>The Dark Knight</i> was polarizing in a way that had critics making stances means that it won in another way. It's a product whose import begs to be taken seriously via a bombardment of unleavened grimness, working on the assumption that utter devastation is the only way to make an impression (regardless of whether there’s a coherent point to be made) and thus is itself akin to an act of terrorism.</div>Adam Katzmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13445652093684270646noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-37631461840649008752010-07-02T01:00:00.001-04:002010-07-02T07:20:43.730-04:00Wake Up, Wake Up It's The Best of the Month: June 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9kVbupBtFJ8CDfAaBOcXLj23yw10gjwPV58K-xfmEkEjc2hYB2PV2QUNDT0woLruJdniOlIAJ2bXHg2thrxV1BBkY-o2edyLbsyTRLU3WnLlgbAqQameAfmzUf2zjy0HHHAPPVZGzsHV/s1600/Picture+6.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9kVbupBtFJ8CDfAaBOcXLj23yw10gjwPV58K-xfmEkEjc2hYB2PV2QUNDT0woLruJdniOlIAJ2bXHg2thrxV1BBkY-o2edyLbsyTRLU3WnLlgbAqQameAfmzUf2zjy0HHHAPPVZGzsHV/s320/Picture+6.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488740521970280466" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">S.H.I.E.L.D #2</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> by Jonathan Hickman and Dustin Weaver</span><br /><br />With this series and his recent run on <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantastic Four, </span><span> Jonathan Hickman</span> is becoming one of Marvel's brightest stars--even if most comics readers don't realize it. His work borrows a page from the Morrison handbook and utilizes science-fiction/fantasy in broad terms to illustrate themes about society at large as well the characters' inner development. It's the artful way he does the former and the fact that he cares about the latter at all that makes his work so interesting.<br /><br />Hickman's big trick is taking everything up a notch. In <span style="font-style: italic;">Fantastic Four</span> Reed Richards wants to literally solve everything, and <span style="font-style: italic;">S.H.I.E.L.D.</span> is no different, with grandiose dialogue like "Drink deeply and live forever" and "I built all of it." It sounds like this would get old after a while, but it never does. Hickman uses sci-fi as a tool and not as the focus of his stories. You're too busy thinking about how the characters relate to each other to seriously consider the guy with a nuclear reactor in his chest, and it all feels properly commonplace.<br /><br />Issue #2 suffers from a scatterbrained style--which is probably another Morrison influence--but it's still a strong read due to well, the same thing Hickman does in everything, and also smaller things like an incredibly designed double-page spread featuring Nostradamus and Leonardo's continued presence as number-one-most-awesome-human.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUoGGmqO1yT8aXfd2TnT_-Gg3zG4f1VFbjyTFiNZHyx5eEWUDluhUYTm_adX-0rjiaiBRT1Olho_3bCdTDwxsOXML_Ko30lFJktmGRhOJ1Cynvhax6uI-kA8xQx0JzndrNwpRx7FlhqPB/s1600/Picture+10.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 96px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUoGGmqO1yT8aXfd2TnT_-Gg3zG4f1VFbjyTFiNZHyx5eEWUDluhUYTm_adX-0rjiaiBRT1Olho_3bCdTDwxsOXML_Ko30lFJktmGRhOJ1Cynvhax6uI-kA8xQx0JzndrNwpRx7FlhqPB/s320/Picture+10.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488746785072365218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Abe Sapien: The Abyssal Plain #1</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> by Mike Mignola, John Arcudi, and Peter Snejbjerg</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Abyssal Plain</span> begins with a Russian man trapped in a submarine waiting to die and writing to his girlfriend to pass the time. He goes on to talk about, in the panel above, how you never really think you will die, how there's always some hope. It's the kind of thing that makes you feel like you've been punched in the solar plexus. Short and direct and really powerful.<br /><br />The opening is effective but strange, because it doesn't have anything to do with the plot really, and even the deeper, thematics aren't addressed in the story. What it does do however, is provide a the sense that every character in this story--and the Hellboy universe--whether important or not, has a notable, affecting backstory. The result is that even the smallest detail or piece of information, even the slightest shift in person feels bigger and deeper. So when Abe's counterpart in this B.P.R.D mission starts acting like a jerk, he's not just a foil or simple counterpoint to Abe's good-natured kindness, you get the sense of this guy slowly cultivating his shitbag attitude...and that makes it all the worse.<br /><br />Tons of wordless panels help this story to fly by--each panel feels like it carries it's own weight--but the tone's set with the opening. Again, not thematically laid-out and not a key piece of plot information, but somehow the <i>feeling</i> of this issue's set from page one. Immediately after the opening, a panel of Abe staring out into a grey sky gives the impression that Abe is having the same sort of thoughts that the sailor had, and when Abe briefly meets up with the sailor's body later, there's a mysterious knowing look between Abe and the corpse and we almost understand it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCQzk9R-yxhsdNATvNRjwqAMO4OxFwO6X-Y72YDlpNeH85ocdW7OBetxKiqsfcKjb7r7_KcOs0gAMquLVPVgDZ2DrNwVipMnpDT3BSSdcl-X4tWge3Nnz6Tjkca0z5FDaBm2ixUnPklqb/s1600/Picture+9.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCQzk9R-yxhsdNATvNRjwqAMO4OxFwO6X-Y72YDlpNeH85ocdW7OBetxKiqsfcKjb7r7_KcOs0gAMquLVPVgDZ2DrNwVipMnpDT3BSSdcl-X4tWge3Nnz6Tjkca0z5FDaBm2ixUnPklqb/s320/Picture+9.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488746646617116882" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The Bulletproof Coffin #1</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> by David Hine and Shaky Kane</span><br /><br />This is one of those comics that feels like such a small portion of the overall picture that it's hard to know exactly what's going on at times. The plot has no clear focus, with things jumping from the main character, Steve, to excessive explanation of the fictional Hine and Kane and their Kirby/Lee like relationship.<br /><br />The comic is ultimately a celebration/deconstruction of comics' underbelly. The stories behind the stories, like the Lee/Kirby drama, and the early weirdness of comics where from panel to panel really anything could happen. It's like<span> </span> how Paul Karasik included his search for information about the Fletcher Hanks in the back of <span style="font-style: italic;">I Shall Destroy All The Civilized Planets!</span>. His interest started with the weirdness of the comics, but grew into an interest into the man behind them, and pretty soon real-life weirdness and comics weirdness were the same thing. There's definitely a natural inclination to try to understand the psychology behind the people who create art--especially in those who create the weird or subversive--and <i>Bulletproof Coffin</i> feeds that interest while still giving readers the more visceral and simple thrills of a comic book.<br /><br />It's successful as a meta-comic because it doesn't try too hard to analyze what is going on, and like the comics it emulates, <span style="font-style: italic;">Bulletproof Coffin</span> is interested in entertaining; in being awesome. The book's major diversion is sticking in an entire comic by the fictional creator and it's not all that different from the rest of the comic--just as weird and cool and exciting. Kane too, subtly shifts his style for the comic-in-a-comic but not too much, so it's all one big, weird thing.<br /><br />Kane draws Steve lounging comfortably holding that comic in his hands, and it's a great panel because it wordlessly captures what it's like to relax and read a comic. The next panel is his hands holding the comic, then it's a full page spread of the comic he's reading, and you proceed to read the whole comic he has in his hands. It's a trippy all-encompassing use of visual narrative and when I saw the cover inside the comic, it threw me for a loop--the idea of starting another comic inside this other comics--and I think that's the feeling Hine and Kane are going for here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTFwgtfAGRI2G8tWY8oi-AbHzZHnG5GmZheInkycWhBXtt9t3LE7hos0NyHhHKMrTom5XmvSaJkdX6XLnimZZvPV6FAS32E-PDQL9-r0NsObBeKHSto5X7hAs4YuSJdx7ugq0xdswdOea/s1600/Picture+11.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 101px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTFwgtfAGRI2G8tWY8oi-AbHzZHnG5GmZheInkycWhBXtt9t3LE7hos0NyHhHKMrTom5XmvSaJkdX6XLnimZZvPV6FAS32E-PDQL9-r0NsObBeKHSto5X7hAs4YuSJdx7ugq0xdswdOea/s320/Picture+11.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489169310404526386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Others</span>: <span style="font-style: italic;">Thor</span> #611, <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2010/06/mouse-guard-legends-of-guard-1-battle.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse Guard: Legends of the Guard</span> #1</a>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne</span> #3, <span><span style="font-style: italic;">King City #9</span><br /></span>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-26985000578973341442010-06-29T13:37:00.005-04:002010-06-29T13:51:26.310-04:00Benjamin Marra and I talk about Rambo: First Blood Part II.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvt6RbKbCd5SmRW57ohCg52rHZtYnmSpD2ux9bn3fAgCon4QN3D1JoLVvbwJXG3BWheFUb2ZT2lOUq2Ruad5mV3XAtoiTIEDRAnxhzOYYDy0v6zLWpFqjEfO8T-O2fZvjBnZeTl_0LKw/s1600/ramboII_2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvt6RbKbCd5SmRW57ohCg52rHZtYnmSpD2ux9bn3fAgCon4QN3D1JoLVvbwJXG3BWheFUb2ZT2lOUq2Ruad5mV3XAtoiTIEDRAnxhzOYYDy0v6zLWpFqjEfO8T-O2fZvjBnZeTl_0LKw/s400/ramboII_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488253919495378994" /></a>For <i>The House Next Door</i>'s "Summer of '85" series, Benjamin Marra (<i>Night Business</i>, <i>Gangsta Rap Posse</i>, Lil B album covers) and I discussed <i>Rambo: First Blood Part II</i>. Go read it!<br /><a href="http://www.slantmagazine.com/house/2010/06/summer-of-85-rambo-first-blood-part-ii-take-two/"><i><blockquote><strong>Brandon Soderberg:</strong> Let's talk about the waterfall scene towards the end because it inspired this discussion. Basically, Benjamin was part of a panel at the Small Press Expo (SPX) called “The New Action” that was talking to “indie” creators engaged with more visceral narrative styles. At one point in the discussion, Benjamin just kinda lovingly describes the scene, late in Rambo: First Blood Part II, where Rambo fires this explosive arrow at this guy on a waterfall and there's like one killer beat between the arrow launching and the explosion and then—blam! The guy just gets decimated.<br /><br /><strong>Benjamin Marra:</strong> Yeah, that whole scene really resonates with me. I really love it. The music, the way it's edited, it all just really sticks in my head. I think the scene is emblematic of the action movies around that time. Death Wish 3, Cobra, Commando, The Running Man, Invasion USA, Red Dawn, feel, through the prism of time, completely bizarre. I get the feeling they were constructed without any self-awareness. I can only speculate really that what occurred in those movies at the time they came out was totally acceptable and normal action. That's at least how I felt about them, but I was pretty young. If any of those movies were released today, they'd probably be perceived as satire.</blockquote></i></a>brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-22597415912201949292010-06-24T00:34:00.011-04:002010-06-24T22:00:28.864-04:00Mouse Guard: Legends of the Guard #1 “The Battle of the Hawk’s Mouse & The Fox’s Mouse”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9iNOi6W38B4lGlM29kZ9jNM5uOeRZPg5lvMTyRmeRKltoOvJAsmP9Dem92cxRjYchVOV11u6JTLXpazRDOa_cRnehgl33UTUDwG87KYKPrZyjLay5QlTHXPCP6CLqKkVoOxICQ2Xzim8/s1600/mouseguard4.jpg"><br /></a>David Petersen’s <i>Mouse Guard: Fall</i> and <i>Winter</i> draws you in with the art and keeps you reading with the story. That may sound simple, but so many comics these days do one or the other--and just as many do neither. Petersen constructs his universe with a Tolkien-like precision and then, stuffs it full of realism and adventure. Instead of magic and monsters, <i>Mouse Guard</i> is populated with the animals that surround us every day. Maps, and world building details--and even the characters' way of speaking--provide glimpses into the much larger world of <i>Mouse Guard</i>. The overall effect is akin to being in high school Social Studies and that one bit of cultural anthropology or off-to-the-side history that sticks with you and sends you to the library to do your own amateur nerd research.<div><br /></div><div>Despite Petersen's rarefied, handmade world, <i>Mouse Guard: Legends of the Guard</i> shows the comic handed over to other creators. The legends work with varied degrees of success, but it's always interesting and unsurprisingly, the more these stories have in common with Petersen's <i>Mouse Guard</i>, the better. Jeremy Bastian’s legend “The Battle of the Hawk’s Mouse & The Fox’s Mouse” continues Petersen’s focus on realism and universe, but adds in some classic fairy tale elements into the mix as well. It’s really an origin story, but Bastian makes the ending very close to being a parable or fable--and the simple fact that the story has plenty of different interacting brings up memories of <span style="font-style: italic;">Grimm’s Fairy Tales</span>.</div><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUml0kPishPWXjIWk3s94NF_hIiQx9UfcVp_p4Izi45pSbdEeyUTX78LG2rSk9xtUcYfAeoLyO8DV3HZWgQllj9BaEYWIXiDEsABJ8Lj-WcFSniPn024YCFXWkKLoSg0lumCQ1p18XiVjw/s1600/mouseguard3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUml0kPishPWXjIWk3s94NF_hIiQx9UfcVp_p4Izi45pSbdEeyUTX78LG2rSk9xtUcYfAeoLyO8DV3HZWgQllj9BaEYWIXiDEsABJ8Lj-WcFSniPn024YCFXWkKLoSg0lumCQ1p18XiVjw/s320/mouseguard3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486196295256355458" border="0" /></a>The structure of “Battle” is delicately balanced, with each strand of narrative carrying individual meaning that both supports the story and Petersen’s universe. It's formally perfect, with everything lining up or counter-acting. In "Battle", two opposing feudal states of the Fox and Hawk are set up the same with minor differences and the same goes with their mouse underlings. Each mouse servant is allowed to keep one companion mouse. One chooses a wife while the other chooses a son.</div><div><br />The pages where each mouse and their predicament are presented have mirror layouts and are reminiscent of Petersen’s Social Studies textbook tone. Looking at the pages is almost like looking at arrangements of “typical period costumes” in history textbooks. The strong parallels between opposite sides supports the story in its final panels when the mice come together and realize for the first time that they are really all on the same side.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9iNOi6W38B4lGlM29kZ9jNM5uOeRZPg5lvMTyRmeRKltoOvJAsmP9Dem92cxRjYchVOV11u6JTLXpazRDOa_cRnehgl33UTUDwG87KYKPrZyjLay5QlTHXPCP6CLqKkVoOxICQ2Xzim8/s1600/mouseguard4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9iNOi6W38B4lGlM29kZ9jNM5uOeRZPg5lvMTyRmeRKltoOvJAsmP9Dem92cxRjYchVOV11u6JTLXpazRDOa_cRnehgl33UTUDwG87KYKPrZyjLay5QlTHXPCP6CLqKkVoOxICQ2Xzim8/s320/mouseguard4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486196452367576402" border="0" /></a>Bastian’s art has the same supportive effect. He is more detailed oriented than Petersen giving his story a distinct ancient quality. It also respects the power Petersen has placed in the carnivores that populate his world. It enhances the story by providing a gravitas to the potential origin of the Mouse Guard.<br /><br />An interesting subtext in the story the way it subtlety presents a balanced view of history. It takes place in a time before any mouse civilization and is heavily described by the narrator as being complete chaos. Despite the grim description of the time period, the hawk’s mouse and the fox’s mouse both have extremely intricate clothes and weapons giving the impression of some sort of structure to the society. It reinforces the idea of the story that mice have a great potential, but it also reflects how people think of the past in terms of lack of current technologies or societal institutions and not in terms of the actual daily life of that age.<br /><br />The narrator comments at one point that even though this special arrangement between predator and prey is tyrannical it was still a better alternative to the other options the mice had. It's a smart way for Bastian to humanize the time period and to basically say to judge the past on it's own terms.<br /></div><br /><div>The other stories in issue #1 are enjoyable, but don't carry the same weight as Bastian's. They feel like they could have been told anywhere whereas Bastian's inhabits the <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse Guard </span>universe and fully understands what makes <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse Guard</span> worth reading. The art in "Battle" is clearly gripping, but the focus on the humdrum details of daily life of the characters in between their adventures is what makes <span style="font-style: italic;">Mouse Guard</span> stand out from other animal personified adventure comics.<br /></div></div>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-68007705456476035932010-06-05T03:07:00.037-04:002010-06-08T17:03:54.533-04:00White Box Hero: Gringo #1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnb6-9Bqqfw2vEq6QgT0DOmWxqiNpwKaJEMIF-pIK0yh96Oy8rVv1c1sqPuvm3TRiC5BSWWgXB0w9RnbJ6oWyjXWndqn7r9sOF9K86w-EC323AIcmdHU09NY3o0syP9seBNqVfdoGMM6U/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-06-08+at+3.51.54+PM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnb6-9Bqqfw2vEq6QgT0DOmWxqiNpwKaJEMIF-pIK0yh96Oy8rVv1c1sqPuvm3TRiC5BSWWgXB0w9RnbJ6oWyjXWndqn7r9sOF9K86w-EC323AIcmdHU09NY3o0syP9seBNqVfdoGMM6U/s400/Screen+shot+2010-06-08+at+3.51.54+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480502040225439666" /></a><i>Everybody here at "Are You A Serious Comic Book Reader?" is the type of comics nerd to spend two hours flipping through a quarter box of comics with the hope that there will be at least something sorta cool in there. Every once in a while, the nerdity pays off and you end up with something greater than you could've ever expected...a white box hero!</i><br /><br />In the strangely forthright introduction to <i>Gringo</i>, writer Kyle Garrett tells readers that the intention of the issue is to “test the waters” for future Caliber western comics. Why this one-shot Western comic put out by Caliber in March 1990 even has an introduction is the first of too many times you'll say “what the hell” if you read through this thing.<br /><br />Garrett—the perfect surname for a western writer by the way, extra funny because it's a pseudonym for Caliber publisher Gary Reed—also uses this introduction to provide a small but interesting look into the struggles of a comics publisher and comics writer: “Let me tell you, it would've been a lot easier to do a mini-series than just 32 pages. How much can you do in 32 pages when you know you have to place a character in a situation and resolve it in such a short amount of space?” The tension between publisher—it's cheaper, less risky to do a one-shot—and writer—writing a one-shot is tough—isn't one most comics types are willing to address, especially with such sobriety, so that's pretty cool.<br /><br />A few paragraphs later, Garrett/Reed even wrestles with the anxiety of influence, stating that “one of the hardest things to do with a western is to remove it from the images of the movies.” <i>Gringo</i>'s story does <i>read</i> like a western comic raised on the movies—a mysterious stranger who can't remember his past enters a town and helps save the day—but it doesn't <i>feel</i> like one, which you know, is more important anyways--that <i>feeling</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqzKDtneynmhQpta3p-zi7uPR2V9dEODo9YcFBkudnNiw8Oqcfb26CZu6Ohssc_CK5NLBPAc8TA7xgsLLCq64OuYgWtJE4yVE1ZRdI4T5sden0uKxE9FIXemWgwdECStmBx9uW-p87o4/s1600/splash1.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqzKDtneynmhQpta3p-zi7uPR2V9dEODo9YcFBkudnNiw8Oqcfb26CZu6Ohssc_CK5NLBPAc8TA7xgsLLCq64OuYgWtJE4yVE1ZRdI4T5sden0uKxE9FIXemWgwdECStmBx9uW-p87o4/s400/splash1.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480509013754043394" /></a>Where <i>Gringo</i> stops having much of anything to do with western movies--and western comics for that matter--is in the art and visual narrative from Wayne Reid. Namely, the comics bounces around from a really rigid, conventional panel design to sudden, awesomely awkward page-high, panel-less whirls of images and dashes of ink. <i>Gringo</i> is is all weird amateur experimentalism, and in its simultaneous adherence to western genre conventions via the story and rejection of expectations with its comics grammar, is one really weird book.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbfVlH7uMzo4gSvKr0iCzT_hPZobK8N6ybdxU41gE72vaLdlSaO7e4ChKGHqcOIyzECS1ev3VlGYEIdvHJMiEszfnwyOH35IeVQWcsJcJ_i7u4dedQQlTUW4WMI17HXhO3OdbBuIKXIc/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-06-08+at+4.28.57+PM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 371px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbfVlH7uMzo4gSvKr0iCzT_hPZobK8N6ybdxU41gE72vaLdlSaO7e4ChKGHqcOIyzECS1ev3VlGYEIdvHJMiEszfnwyOH35IeVQWcsJcJ_i7u4dedQQlTUW4WMI17HXhO3OdbBuIKXIc/s400/Screen+shot+2010-06-08+at+4.28.57+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480502686048919106" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO3Trj3EN9FGMhUd7ICTtvB7H428VbSQBhCGBAJIm7Qvwo-Jm5vWUqzlnx5bOJuc6HZ6e897PSmHXxPUWiQao8OH_aLJFHtdXXFlHUqNB6Lx7GWF37oHIuAr2kqNq8odeXWZmWSx7jjk/s1600/gringo9f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWO3Trj3EN9FGMhUd7ICTtvB7H428VbSQBhCGBAJIm7Qvwo-Jm5vWUqzlnx5bOJuc6HZ6e897PSmHXxPUWiQao8OH_aLJFHtdXXFlHUqNB6Lx7GWF37oHIuAr2kqNq8odeXWZmWSx7jjk/s400/gringo9f.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480503103212016738" /></a><br />Let's start with Wayne Reid's awesome-terrible style. Everyone in the comic is kinda handsome or like ruggedly beautiful, the men and the women, and they're often rocking like perms, and sometimes their faces are a bit too small for their heads? And sometimes their heads are too small for their bodies? Whatever. In short, he's got a style. An identifiable, tangible style, and like, everybody from Jack Kirby to Gene Colan to Rob Liefeld to Frank Quitely has that and on a good or bad day, some snob could say how any of those guys' art isn't "realistic" or messes with anatomy or is just plain bad, so those asides about Reid are totally not a critique, but a celebration. Nothing else really feels like the art here, even though it might even come off as a bit generic or third-rate, it's really damned consistent and has a scratchy, line-y thing to it that helps to counteract the idealized sexy cowboys.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LlxCBsyehBu_xBCnZ3nSKZx6G0RY51flknvMkthUvpOfxiAhimW9cH2E2Y1g99R4KDTrgpVW2NTQXswJ8KWZ9YUkyIk4oJ4aisIcsijqxn38ESNJBeXdRovnfgRCa12PcYg6Wns2RQw/s1600/a.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4LlxCBsyehBu_xBCnZ3nSKZx6G0RY51flknvMkthUvpOfxiAhimW9cH2E2Y1g99R4KDTrgpVW2NTQXswJ8KWZ9YUkyIk4oJ4aisIcsijqxn38ESNJBeXdRovnfgRCa12PcYg6Wns2RQw/s400/a.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480503548398097538" /></a>Maybe the best example of this tension is on the first page of the book: A six-panel, time slowed-down page that shows Gringo, sunbaked, confused, wandering up over a sand dune. The first three panels illustrate a basic elapse of time and then, the small fourth panel gives us a close-up of Gringo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecRcI8SWPx1Ue3HNbhAQN8Khw_RcxXhDvD1AOYBnFfSrF-EfYbhf9FsybE41_U20ngjx95mcf8uN_G2vIcVqRB2rY47-lvQx3pclECc6IXymAZ6FyKRUVtjQZ2uYwg0aGlYwHnOp2n0E/s1600/b.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecRcI8SWPx1Ue3HNbhAQN8Khw_RcxXhDvD1AOYBnFfSrF-EfYbhf9FsybE41_U20ngjx95mcf8uN_G2vIcVqRB2rY47-lvQx3pclECc6IXymAZ6FyKRUVtjQZ2uYwg0aGlYwHnOp2n0E/s400/b.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480503808919339042" /></a>He's stunned, his eyes all glazed-over, his hair sticking up and messy, all kinds of crap of his face. There's a sincerity to Gringo's face, the result of Reid's bizarre art; the guy looks cherubic, or almost like a baby-faced actor with some B-movie grit and grime slapped across his face, not a guy, even a guy in a comic, who's actually wandered through the desert. And then, just as we're introduced to Gringo, he falls flat on his face. The page's final panel is presumably a few hours later, when Gringo's discovered and taken back a local ranch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBXG6I0qcQP7mUEHKI5avJN_Gz-xgDepGZ-Q9mVK8QpmFTnrpc0LQjB_itfvj-Iqxc2zFAT4QCLpv-8mrnFwVT9KNlS8MhKAO2JJPjwtjuGoHHwsqQH0INDdiImDgynjMIWPl4nUKnjc/s1600/c.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBXG6I0qcQP7mUEHKI5avJN_Gz-xgDepGZ-Q9mVK8QpmFTnrpc0LQjB_itfvj-Iqxc2zFAT4QCLpv-8mrnFwVT9KNlS8MhKAO2JJPjwtjuGoHHwsqQH0INDdiImDgynjMIWPl4nUKnjc/s400/c.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480504357260553154" /></a>The next page begins with a similar, slowing-down time technique, illustrating Gringo's return to consciousness via four panels that move from black, to hazy indistinct confusion, to comic book clarity. The rest of the page introduces the setting (Ranch De Macido), two of the important characters (Juanita and Manuel), and the fact that Gringo doesn't remember his past...or does he?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaa1_DasdARlPL6BfI0N61nsKiad3BOColPcAEYDjyCNlSidY4WKAqLYbjnM3Sm-AS7Ud1BDncsSFK-EDzPTttFR0htjz8WpxzVMQnK_uYcP4CcBtYGB45CI2Zwnsgms0mOwfVZlhyphenhyphen9g/s1600/d.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaa1_DasdARlPL6BfI0N61nsKiad3BOColPcAEYDjyCNlSidY4WKAqLYbjnM3Sm-AS7Ud1BDncsSFK-EDzPTttFR0htjz8WpxzVMQnK_uYcP4CcBtYGB45CI2Zwnsgms0mOwfVZlhyphenhyphen9g/s400/d.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480504616330066898" /></a>The title/credit page comes next, and it's the first of many panel-less inky whirl of images--dollar store Gene Colan--and in the very corner, Gringo, answering Manuel's question from the previous page ("Hey Gringo, who are you? Where'd you come from?"): "I-I don't know." This page kinda plays on the readers' perception of this comic as goofy and amateur because it's hard to tell what's going on or if you're supposed to take it literally. You're kinda in this zone of "this comic's out there so maybe some shit just doesn't make sense" but, it's all really awesome set-up. Later in the comic, it's revealed that Gringo does indeed remember and so, the page functions as a hint to the reader that he does remember (the cloud of images, his memory), but at first view, it seems more like Gringo's being bombarded with pieces of memory and he can't parse it all out--which is more like actual memory loss, it isn't blank, just the details don't fit together yet. Either way, it's a cool way to represent Gringo's hesitant mind-state.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzJ5_-HIFFyKJ1PRfCSJ_ShxW2RGCCqy_yexxToIvdnPrkG-4dauYEPrLhnvuhlclm-nf3UaNMLKnoXAYUVZ1n_9Cj4QPosf01JjbNn130KaRCQ5CrWFo_yiFRkzUlB-0trKmjXLDDQQ/s1600/e.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 334px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzJ5_-HIFFyKJ1PRfCSJ_ShxW2RGCCqy_yexxToIvdnPrkG-4dauYEPrLhnvuhlclm-nf3UaNMLKnoXAYUVZ1n_9Cj4QPosf01JjbNn130KaRCQ5CrWFo_yiFRkzUlB-0trKmjXLDDQQ/s400/e.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480505292051743042" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqbSE_juJeJv7b_EN66QsckZtp_qZSFHFJDq4GvrAbbBnPob64iUU3dMvuM4Z5k96E27pfr6tGaVTqibg739FZaP_uGI702MUAXLoPDNWBaaVtkBL47Yl7kTkn7k4N9YXWqncbg71pXk/s1600/f.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 141px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqbSE_juJeJv7b_EN66QsckZtp_qZSFHFJDq4GvrAbbBnPob64iUU3dMvuM4Z5k96E27pfr6tGaVTqibg739FZaP_uGI702MUAXLoPDNWBaaVtkBL47Yl7kTkn7k4N9YXWqncbg71pXk/s400/f.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480505282409046514" /></a>Let's step back for a second because just three pages in, you're getting a sense of <i>Gringo</i>'s kitchen-sink approach to visual narrative. The first page was a word-less sequence. The second page introduces a lot of information but begins with a slowed-down montage pretty much exactly like the one on the page before. Then, the comic opens up into a splash-page. It's all just a little bit too much, like one too many ideas crammed in there. But then you turn the page and it's all straight-forward panels for a while, until another splash page and some weird panel/montage tricks. And then there's a relatively normal page and a panel-less splash page across from a big wordless panel?<br /><br />There's a nutty structure to the thing. As <i>Gringo</i> goes on, the amount of pages that are "normal" decreases, there's a bunch more oddball splashes and panel-less explosions of images, and even the panel construction gets pretty nuts. More and more pages are based around a main image that's panel-less and then, stuck on top of that, are some typical panels. Again, none of this is groundbreaking or new on its own, but the sheer amount of weird stuff going on, page to page, builds up.<br /><br />The weirdness really hits its breaking point, appropriately enough, during a duel between Gringo and one of comic's villains, Stoner (I'm purposefully avoiding plot summary because it really doesn't matter). At the top of the page, there's the shit-talking, experience-less Manuel dropping out of the duel, Gringo stepping in for him. It's done in small, wordless, close-up panels.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrh1nK2wAPFJaE83Cc9tBPSouJiJCXzMWr4xQSD5qR4ndVzv4g1nuwYovdcufqo5P2hIqOOIjsURgXS2MDOXiRpGU1xD0ZMheKPiXuRrWaU2cOx2LC8wU0hyphenhypheniVk4Mto4YTFOEZIsrFoaQ/s1600/nn.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrh1nK2wAPFJaE83Cc9tBPSouJiJCXzMWr4xQSD5qR4ndVzv4g1nuwYovdcufqo5P2hIqOOIjsURgXS2MDOXiRpGU1xD0ZMheKPiXuRrWaU2cOx2LC8wU0hyphenhypheniVk4Mto4YTFOEZIsrFoaQ/s400/nn.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480506779163630978" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67-9inFI7SkTWcI3TMZHfzzzHQVYhTVE5Fc3MzJdo47rQ4LAQzQ-SQAOlC7KhDE40YNbe5gIOcWEXX_plYA9mGrdsmAx-VTIboM47tKEA9Af_n6KjfblNYrmDmtOqyBLWB0oQpE-kj94/s1600/oo.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67-9inFI7SkTWcI3TMZHfzzzHQVYhTVE5Fc3MzJdo47rQ4LAQzQ-SQAOlC7KhDE40YNbe5gIOcWEXX_plYA9mGrdsmAx-VTIboM47tKEA9Af_n6KjfblNYrmDmtOqyBLWB0oQpE-kj94/s400/oo.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480506785551390226" /></a>The middle panel is your classic Western medium wide shot but it's effective and then it gets <i>really</i> effective further down the page, when the panel's copied and reduced and surrounded by the nervous eyes of Gringo and Stoner. It's just like, what?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByZK97bURNASGBC1l4dCJs4M3FDwe0Z4ujPE6XfPHasqt_lU4ih9_2k_7GeKRXJYi2fNbUKp7j2louV2DEf0yAQL-vgjNTUQRAnZSDXFVy_j_ms3yuUgFSTiqweqGQOUYTkzFd4IDzEI/s1600/splash2.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByZK97bURNASGBC1l4dCJs4M3FDwe0Z4ujPE6XfPHasqt_lU4ih9_2k_7GeKRXJYi2fNbUKp7j2louV2DEf0yAQL-vgjNTUQRAnZSDXFVy_j_ms3yuUgFSTiqweqGQOUYTkzFd4IDzEI/s400/splash2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480509006901542834" /></a>And then, to increase the tension even more, before the men fire, there's another one of those panel-less splash/memory pages, and then finally, the duel, in another world-less panel.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEXC91vhgKtfD31yaoK6VJOPSt1txZRvQeOCH4YC4BW0I9XQOxT_XQicdkLG8CR09FAb0WBIgeHGF_Xi0k3om5XQj7uFTfLydN0skvpC9GcC8W8Le8kWmAe-waIxMIWZNDvCo8xo4vPU/s1600/sssss.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKEXC91vhgKtfD31yaoK6VJOPSt1txZRvQeOCH4YC4BW0I9XQOxT_XQicdkLG8CR09FAb0WBIgeHGF_Xi0k3om5XQj7uFTfLydN0skvpC9GcC8W8Le8kWmAe-waIxMIWZNDvCo8xo4vPU/s400/sssss.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480507729516631202" /></a>You turn the page and you get a cool, awkward montage of how the duel plays out--Stoner gets shot--and again, Reid's odd approach to anatomy makes the sequence work. Stoner twists and turns around with each hit and it's awkward and strange-looking, unhinged, not cinematic, or barely cinematic really--a little closer to what a person may look like when they're shot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaD-V0n64fM5cT_xYJYjjrR11AABAmpGBRw9cPO17V_Ou8-rk6hkoG8OnFH2cGZxM0G_rCLaTfWRdWmpkYfwdhi8vqiHP8HkAfUhpw9-xS87SXwyJYxg67ZU1yMRmFGiJeYIV18r7X9w/s1600/mm.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaD-V0n64fM5cT_xYJYjjrR11AABAmpGBRw9cPO17V_Ou8-rk6hkoG8OnFH2cGZxM0G_rCLaTfWRdWmpkYfwdhi8vqiHP8HkAfUhpw9-xS87SXwyJYxg67ZU1yMRmFGiJeYIV18r7X9w/s400/mm.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480506472813989906" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0S827kHpzYqpw9WnPCkWphpcEV8wh-O9PQe_N8sSRiDR2Q1w-CffKqseE4Drv5WmCa6Z3E41P5y4oV1QAfdxrZt8ZHIQlNwkyY0IY0U7AOJbzatW2JaFkxpCOTtXBW-9ekQW6JyQJVvA/s1600/k.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0S827kHpzYqpw9WnPCkWphpcEV8wh-O9PQe_N8sSRiDR2Q1w-CffKqseE4Drv5WmCa6Z3E41P5y4oV1QAfdxrZt8ZHIQlNwkyY0IY0U7AOJbzatW2JaFkxpCOTtXBW-9ekQW6JyQJVvA/s400/k.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480505896053617522" /></a>After this, <i>Gringo</i> just gets AWESOME as the mysterious cowboy systematically takes revenge on every one of the land-stealing Dardin's men, of which Stoner was one. He throws a guy through a window--the build-up is established through that slow-motion four panel thing again--and then uses a fire-poker to burn Dardin's eyes out. Then, he returns to the ranch to inform Manuel, Juanita, and their father that their farm will be okay and he rides off into the sunset--illustrated with one final, four-panel montage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51r0YPjZdA16ybIkm3miSoGkD32sveDwRztbz_pcjjaFhbGUaOFk_GeTcOdacqT9kbpIaJ6zfL-5w2u56_pmL4cMfepc_vEMlRzT6ELEBYJ2zWkGR4fJ7oQxA452vp8EAwY35-pI3An8/s1600/h.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 196px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51r0YPjZdA16ybIkm3miSoGkD32sveDwRztbz_pcjjaFhbGUaOFk_GeTcOdacqT9kbpIaJ6zfL-5w2u56_pmL4cMfepc_vEMlRzT6ELEBYJ2zWkGR4fJ7oQxA452vp8EAwY35-pI3An8/s400/h.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480505888412531378" /></a>brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-47601847538504935232010-06-02T01:05:00.007-04:002010-06-02T01:46:30.213-04:00Something Old, Something New: Wilson vs. BodyWorld<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxgdMTh_kRAFXgfych7Gd2VGpRZpGCkOiZkRDDS7kpXdelzdfI_WAR-a8kE3W_o3gcTX7861nL0g0Ea3xKUnBr5j-uPoLGYxTU7W-EXxR6JfFv6Ur4O4Mg41TUJzpiel0UjOhthW-R1Y/s1600/wilson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFxgdMTh_kRAFXgfych7Gd2VGpRZpGCkOiZkRDDS7kpXdelzdfI_WAR-a8kE3W_o3gcTX7861nL0g0Ea3xKUnBr5j-uPoLGYxTU7W-EXxR6JfFv6Ur4O4Mg41TUJzpiel0UjOhthW-R1Y/s400/wilson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478039304506733954" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhUHRmBRZg8_CT5-vMzWFnLw4slgMvtUfo52kEwTAbhNbO7MkEZeb836Ec2Jbt1j6FpbAq1CZbvBmTrhZ9gfbDwwpN6GE9uL9FuJ9c1MAjsLFRcXC2heKNF-aO92rjYWyyTIk-JcjgcE/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-06-02+at+1.07.53+AM.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhUHRmBRZg8_CT5-vMzWFnLw4slgMvtUfo52kEwTAbhNbO7MkEZeb836Ec2Jbt1j6FpbAq1CZbvBmTrhZ9gfbDwwpN6GE9uL9FuJ9c1MAjsLFRcXC2heKNF-aO92rjYWyyTIk-JcjgcE/s400/Screen+shot+2010-06-02+at+1.07.53+AM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478039301896142834" /></a>So yeah, I did a piece on Dan Clowes' <i>Wilson</i> and Dash Shaw's <i>BodyWorld</i> for the Baltimore <i>City Paper</i> this week. There's a ton of other stuff to discuss about these books than what I crammed into a thousand or so words, but my main point is simple: <i>Wilson</i> is pretty much a loathsome waste of time and <i>BodyWorld</i> is just jesus christ amazing. <br /><br />Primarily I was wrestling with the feelings I had while reading <i>Wilson</i>, which were "Wow, the younger me would've loved this but now I just find it really obnoxious and off-putting." I see why the books works but I don't care. This kind of cynicism, this disdain for everybody--which Clowes undoubtedly has, this isn't as simple as mistakenly reading Wilson as Clowes' voice--makes me uncomfortable and sad. And that's the intention but um, whatever?<br /><br />When you read it right along with <i>BodyWorld</i>, the books are almost arguing with one another. There's literally no way Shaw was making his book as a response but it works through that lens. <i>BodyWorld</i>'s Paulie Panther is very Wilson-like but we end up kinda "getting" him and feeling for him, even though he's a clueless asshole. And then there's the issues of visual narrative and like, a care for the comics form, which Clowes--like Ware--loves <i>and</i> loathes. Dash Shaw just loves comics and it's rushing through the whole damned book. In the review, I compare <i>BodyWorld</i> to <i>Infinite Jest</i> and I mean it!Anyways, click below to read my take on these two graphic novels...<br /><a href="http://www.citypaper.com/arts/story.asp?id=20281"><blockquote><i>"Every year--at least since Art Spiegelman's Maus, and most certainly by the time Chris Ware's Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth was a bookstore-ready hardcover--a few sophisticated, sprawling comic books make their way out of the alt-comics echo chamber and into the mainstream. Last year it was David Mazzucchelli's Asterios Polyp and R. Crumb's Book of Genesis; April alone saw the release of Daniel Clowes' Wilson (Drawn & Quarterly) and Dash Shaw's BodyWorld (Pantheon). Though it won't replace the great American novel anytime soon, the past 20 years have certainly witnessed the rise of the great American graphic novel.<br /><br />Both Wilson and BodyWorld are graphic novels in the loaded, fancy sense of the term, but each book also subtly defies the expectations for the kind of smarty-pants comics that get write-ups in magazines and, well, free alternative weeklies. Clowes' collection of depressive joke strips--a parody of the Sunday funnies--about a middle-aged, out of touch douchebag, shuns comics' recent fascination with the grand statement, opting for a terse take on America in the aughts. It feels like a relic from an earlier indie comics era when every release didn't have to swing for the fences. Shaw follows up 2008's Bottomless Belly Button--a 720 pager about divorce--with an erotic, pulp-obsessed, 384-page book about a strand of weed that makes you psychic: It's a new kind of comics epic..."</i></blockquote></a>brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-84788869818694298312010-06-01T10:29:00.002-04:002010-06-01T14:52:12.924-04:00Wake Up, Wake Up It's Best of the Month: May 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzqHU2kEDiQMiVuYZ-TCrSzkqshlQrE1qjv_OUPmrTnyn2rXADEOYKv1MCkG-pt9chjiJhTxjketHUvN3mbUt2S3rUkn1vsRS63pvbpOC0t1HJbqyYrdjpvxk65MsXwu6Z9msiBQmnBcY/s1600/Picture+12.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzqHU2kEDiQMiVuYZ-TCrSzkqshlQrE1qjv_OUPmrTnyn2rXADEOYKv1MCkG-pt9chjiJhTxjketHUvN3mbUt2S3rUkn1vsRS63pvbpOC0t1HJbqyYrdjpvxk65MsXwu6Z9msiBQmnBcY/s320/Picture+12.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477797789329168674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Return of Bruce Wayne #1 & #2</span> by Grant Morrison, Chris Sprouse, and Frazier Irving.<br />Didn't really expect these to be as good as they are, but Morrison always finds ways of taking a "cool" idea and adding extra layers onto it. Here, the layer is Superman's squad time-hopping around, trying to stop Batman from coming back to the present, which. Issue #2 tackles it mostly and artist Frazier Irving draw Superman as thin and vaguely wimpy, which actually goes along well with the hyper-sincere tone Morrison's adopted for Superman since <span style="font-style: italic;">All Star Superman</span> and <i>Final Crisis</i>.<br /><br />The first issue is just paced perfectly. With not a lot of dialogue, the story moves along really quickly but somehow keeps you fixated on each and every panel too, like there's caves of meaning in every sequence. And it uses simple comics tricks, like weird colored skys and backgrounds to enhance the time travel element of the story, and make the world of the cavemen seem like it's forever on the verge of violence. Little tricks like reversing expectation and having Bruce Wayne's speech incomprehensible and not the cavemen is subtle and just good, smart comic book stuff.<br /><br />Issue #2 pumps up the dialogue and almost lost me in the mix a couple of times, but as the issue pushes on it picks up steam. Things become more frenetic for both Superman and Bruce towards the end of the issue and Morrison/Irving do a good job of slowly modulating the pace as it goes on. Throwing in these hints of the <i>Batman</i>/DC history we all know, such as Bruce's familiarity with the cave and Annie's Wonder Woman connection are once again, fun comics nerd things but they also highlight the sad, fleeting connections that this dip through time allows.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaQGLKlXPsI80OXajohwINIRLNOeKRD2wYoOXZwRFRa3wpZTMo_53jUQtDR03px1eTfgxC0vwIPmjrA7AIJJIfnjrUfQ7RuSu0XFXrS1y3tQstRsezgD9yoEy3qN8w5_tDBsMsDCdpOib/s1600/Picture+5.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaQGLKlXPsI80OXajohwINIRLNOeKRD2wYoOXZwRFRa3wpZTMo_53jUQtDR03px1eTfgxC0vwIPmjrA7AIJJIfnjrUfQ7RuSu0XFXrS1y3tQstRsezgD9yoEy3qN8w5_tDBsMsDCdpOib/s320/Picture+5.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477797993252025602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Spider-Man Fever</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">#2</span> by Brendan McCarthy<span style="font-style: italic;">.</span><br />A big improvement over the clunky first issue, this issue sheds most of the weak humor of the first issue and replaces it with more intense images that are spooky, bizarre, and even, strangely beautiful. The plot now revealed, McCarthy sinks his teeth into the meat of the story with Spider-Man and Dr. Strange on duel quests in a bizarre magical realm.<br /><br />The story actually retells Spider-Man's origin as a magical event and not a science-based one--which is actually a pretty ballsy move, even out of continuity. It turns out the spider that bit him is part of the weird spider cult that has abducted him in this magical realm--or something--and he's creepily turning into a giant spider, kind of like the six-armed Spider-Man in the 90s cartoon.<br /><br />Strange's and Spider-Man story go well together, each having to deal with the inhabitants of this odd territory and both making it work. Strange is obviously in his magical element, but Spider-Man feels oddly at home too, hanging out with spiders and the nomad/wanderer look really works with his character.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPDe3gwD818eYt7pnhUX0E4tiODi6F2qA5v5c-rejfqv-47gnxzJw0tsMXwDyp-vmmKUMP_erRu0yKKoyI2i_a9RXEU_8HjslCtdEtF3m0q6enyH52JURgREooSHXbshoY2hDtLpnd62H/s1600/Picture+14.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPDe3gwD818eYt7pnhUX0E4tiODi6F2qA5v5c-rejfqv-47gnxzJw0tsMXwDyp-vmmKUMP_erRu0yKKoyI2i_a9RXEU_8HjslCtdEtF3m0q6enyH52JURgREooSHXbshoY2hDtLpnd62H/s320/Picture+14.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477800495054965090" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Wolverine #900</span> by Various.<br />The curiously numbered <span style="font-style: italic;">Wolverine #900</span> is just Wolverine doing what he does best: one shots. The issue is crammed with 104 pages and a bunch of solid, one-shot stories. There seems to be a never ending stream of sad ass Wolverine one-shots, and this issue dares you to get tired of them, but it's one of those things that only the most obsequious comics nerd gets mad about--too much of a good thing.<br /><br />The stand out tale is by far the Wells/Rivera "Birthday Boy." Wells' Wolverine has a palpable inner sadness that's in lots of Wolverine stories but is sensitively done here. Wolverine's emotionally locked away, aware of his position in the world as a killer and maybe murderer and struggling with it. Basically, Wolverine gets Spider-Man to hang out with him because Spider-Man's a decent guy and sees the good in Wolverine, and he doesn't want to feel like a shit on this night.<br /><br />Wolverine and Spider-Man are philosophical opposites--Spider-Man as a young naive "Good Guy" and Wolverine as a proud cynical hard-ass--and as the story progresses, you get glimpses of ways they meet in the middle. That's the emotional tension of the story, but the big reveal, the devastating detail that makes this story so great is Wolverine's last-page reveal as to why he convinced Spidey to come out and hang: It's his birthday.<br /><br /> It's borders on sentimentality, but Wells holds back and lets the reader wonder, and even sympathize with Spiderman's whining, until the end when Spiderman finally gets it and feels bad for giving Wolverine a hard time. Rivera's art is perfect as always, and helps add a bunch of little touches that give this story a subtlety and nuance that makes the entire issue worth the $5 price tag.<br /><br /><u>Free Comic Book Day:</u><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRK_4nA9zpEyvRr35LlL1qewplXAYUCfVh1UoBvZYI2V8wsn3MgmkVjFiJKHtLa6jik0urWLzZYJLA39kQzcr7HmQfo7dtAP0AxqgZgGTf3rHQ3foYgvd1hQ5S_ieagGW6orwn9WjYCal4/s1600/Picture+11.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRK_4nA9zpEyvRr35LlL1qewplXAYUCfVh1UoBvZYI2V8wsn3MgmkVjFiJKHtLa6jik0urWLzZYJLA39kQzcr7HmQfo7dtAP0AxqgZgGTf3rHQ3foYgvd1hQ5S_ieagGW6orwn9WjYCal4/s320/Picture+11.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477798049105590050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Weathercraft and other Strange Tales </span><span>by Jim Woodring.</span><br />I'm not a big fan of Woodring's <i>Jim</i> or <i>Frank</i> and things are even kinda similar in <span style="font-style: italic;">Weathercraft</span>, but take out the words and replace cute characters with a weird piggy man and things work out pretty well. The plot is told remarkably well for being silent and the whole thing does a good job of focusing on the main character's spiritual-esque journey. The tale could easily be a scene out of<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>the movie<span style="font-style: italic;"> Holy Mountain</span> or something, particularly the comic book transcendent ending in which Weathercraft's absorbed by the space around him. It has the same sort of uncomfortable power of Jodorowsky's film.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Iron Man/Thor </span><span>by</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span>Matt </span>Fraction and John Romita Jr.<br />Just a well characterized, drawn, and composed, team-up of two characters who spend a lot of time in each other's company but don't necessarily interact all that often. They always seem to be fighting and yelling and never just have a conversation. Similar to "Birthday Boy", here are two characters who are really different and nearly opposites just hanging out. Thor's old fashioned and his power comes from an inner strength, while Iron Man basically lives in the future and his power comes from his ability to be on the bleeding-edge of technology.<br /><br />Although they clash in certain respects, they end up complimenting each other as a team. The story's subtext highlights Thor as a God which is often forgotten or just kinda accepted without comment in the comics. As Thor talks to Iron Man on the moon, Iron Man suddenly realizes that Thor is talking in space and how every once in a while Thor will just do something impossible like that--because he's a God and all. Like <i>Iron Man 2</i>'s characterization of Stark/Iron Man, it breaks down his techno-futurist edge and reveals his knowing, child-like sense of wonder.<br /><br /><u>Others:</u> <span style="font-style: italic;">Orc Stain #3</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">King City #8</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Joe the Barbarian #5.</span><br /><br /><center><object height="285" width="380"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7s_MczyDV0Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7s_MczyDV0Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="285" width="380"></embed></object></center></div>Jesse Reesehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08336893068628594027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-24604381506516022662010-05-26T23:47:00.000-04:002010-05-27T00:23:02.205-04:00Dan Clowes' Wilson & McTeague<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj69dbYTpUvB_3KbMDyEbs9Wh-TZPay8be-rQKe-jBuBMCVCa2dut5D9Nr0JbjtapfXybhtxiO2OzPm2JUohgxeWCnVnLkhAXWaQuf7Mo4GI6TiGNgK82jNCR-aauoFPmbTbU4h0ARR1sg/s1600/wilson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj69dbYTpUvB_3KbMDyEbs9Wh-TZPay8be-rQKe-jBuBMCVCa2dut5D9Nr0JbjtapfXybhtxiO2OzPm2JUohgxeWCnVnLkhAXWaQuf7Mo4GI6TiGNgK82jNCR-aauoFPmbTbU4h0ARR1sg/s320/wilson.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475698948959839266" /></a><a href="http://comicscomicsmag.com/2010/05/wilson-blah-blah.html"><blockquote><i>"Has anyone read McTeague? If so, could you write an essay or blog post describing in what way, if any, the novel’s story or themes resonate with Wilson? Because I want to read that essay, and I am not going to have time to get to McTeague for a very long time."</i></blockquote></a>Over at the always engaging <i>Comics Comics</i> blog, T. Hodler's opened up discussion on Daniel Clowes' <i>Wilson</i>. Among the many things that Hodler brought up is the connection between <i>Wilson</i> and Frank Norris' <i>McTeague</i> which Wilson is reading. I briefly explained the connection--or my interpretation of the connection--in the comments fray but I thought I would flesh it out a bit...<br /><br />Before T. Hodler's question/prompt, I hadn't actually thought of Clowes' use of <i>McTeague</i> as anything more than a novelistic detail: A small, seemingly minor thing thrown in the story that succinctly characterizes Wilson. But that is a good place to start--we'll get to the thematic connections in a second. <div><br /></div><div>Think of Wilson reading <i>McTeague</i> the same way John Ellis in <i>Ghost World</i> had a zine called <i>Mayhem</i> and was very much enamored with stuff like snuff films, kiddie porn, serial killers and just generally flaunted an anarcho-conservative point of view. The character is specific but not too specific. Just a "type" that you recognize, maybe you went to school with a guy like, or some chick's boyfriend is that very same kind of "subversive". I always thought of Jim Goad when I read the book--Goad would very much have been in the alt-comics/zine world news of the time--but Clowes' satire isn't so squarely aimed as that; again, it's more about a "type".<br /><br />Wilson reading <i>McTeague</i> is similar. A detail there for those people that "get it" to chuckle to themselves, but it isn't crucial to understanding the story. For those that do get it however, it's quite rewarding. Even your classic elitist isn’t going to reach for Frank Norris’ social realist classic, but a certain kind of “never wants to fit in but thinks they’re a man of the people” type jerk would totally read <i>McTeague</i>. The novel’s grotesque and literary, but it’s also very raw and immediate--something resembling popular literature. I can imagine Wilson thinking “this is preferable to the hoity-toity works of Proust or Conrad" (who were writing around the same time). A false populism--which Wilson most certainly exhibits.<br /><br />The detail also clarifies Clowes' pointed satire. It's the author/artist saying to readers, "Look, I know this asshole well, I'm hip to his game". By employing such a clear but still general reference, Clowes enters the world of his satirical targets and proves himself to be ridiculously spot-on about them. Most satire stems from a mix of contempt and distance, but Clowes is right there, beyond superficial characterizations and simplifications. Kinda that same way <a href="http://www.hipsterrunoff.com/">Hipster Runoff</a> has an uncanny ability to inhabit the minds of the bros it satirizes.<br /><br />Wilson <i>would</i> read <i>McTeague</i>. John Ellis <i>would</i> have some awful, third-generation shocking zine. The main character of <i>Caricature</i>'s "MCMLXVI" <i>would</i> defend his love of 1966 precisely the way Clowes has him do it. It's the opposite of Clowes mocking himself--and establishing a distance between creator and creation--in <i>Ghost World</i> but it has the same effect. It tells the reader that a very self-aware artist is behind the very mean work you're reading.<br /><br />Thematically, <i>McTeague</i> isn't going to open up the whole book, it isn't the Clowesian key to all mythologies or nothing, but Clowes shares Norris' rather harsh, unforgiving view of man. Norris is writing only forty or so years after Darwin publishes <i>On the Origin of Species</i> and so, all these connections between man and animal are new and just really fucking shocking. Like, seriously, not to dig up all my notes from when I taught 11th-grade English, but think of how much of a shock to pretty much everybody's beliefs it must've been when they couldn't take for granted--at least in quite the same way--all this stuff about God and where we come from and shit.<br /><br />Norris channeled all these Darwinian ideas into <i>McTeague</i>. Wrapped up in the Social Darwinism survival of the fittest stuff that was hovering around, and caught up in bat-shit crazy ideas like Eugenics and Phrenology, Norris crafted a novel based around this unforgiving view of humans beings. People as animals, looking out for number one, cruel, harsh, and manipulative but ultimately, pathetically unchangeable. That's where Wilson enters. He's like an animal, scrapping around for survival--think of how he looks for his ex-wife once his dad dies, or how the girl that watched his dog ends up moving in with him--while at the same time, pinned to basically the same pathetic life patterns.<br /><br />Lastly, there are a some weird biographical connections between Clowes and Norris. Both were born in Chicago, both eventually ended up in the Bay Area--Clowes in Oakland, Norris in San Francisco. <i>McTeague</i>'s subtitle is "A Story of San Francisco" and you get a sense of the bubbling bay area around the late 1890s. And though environment isn't quite as key to <i>Wilson</i>, you certainly come out of the book with Clowes--or Wilson's at least--subjective view of Oakland--and because American's not quite so regionalized anymore-- the weird sad United States in the early 2000's.</div>brandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05331746353766612879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-14070818835541059462010-05-19T12:37:00.001-04:002010-05-19T12:37:00.469-04:00Apologia for Iron Man 2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nsQn5lKLhX9w1ek22SR5x4tgcNpOowmzW3B46J9TYP9WB0THWmStiPXVhPpnVug4jjFD3DvbZb63NAwaX5Z0hMoMzz9QUo0CKNwDZo1JRKaSDxUDakoyDESYBJ82uV_hzFZq8cixYZOB/s1600/Picture+11.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nsQn5lKLhX9w1ek22SR5x4tgcNpOowmzW3B46J9TYP9WB0THWmStiPXVhPpnVug4jjFD3DvbZb63NAwaX5Z0hMoMzz9QUo0CKNwDZo1JRKaSDxUDakoyDESYBJ82uV_hzFZq8cixYZOB/s400/Picture+11.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472868798768115138" /></a><br />If you want to understand the differences between Jon Favreau's <i>Iron Man</i> and its imaginatively titled follow-up, <i>Iron Man 2</i>, you need look no further than the respective historical moments from which each movie was borne. And I'm not talking about the sort of tabloid-news understanding of American politics that results in <a href="http://www.comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=24784">ham-handed representations of so-called "Tea-Baggers" as somehow equivalent with white supremacists</a>. Like its <a href="http://comicsforserious.blogspot.com/2008/10/cinematic-subtlety-politics-of-ironman.html">predecessor</a>, <i>Iron Man 2</i> is interesting because it evinces a subtle and complex understanding of the particular forces at work in our country and the peculiar leadership challenges faced by those concerned with fixing our broken country.<br /><br />But this subtlety might also be the biggest flaw of <i>Iron Man 2</i>, in the sense that much of the film's sophistication has been missed by critics and moviegoers. In a genuinely probing—not to mention almost wholly justified—<a href="http://www.salon.com/entertainment/movies/film_salon/2010/05/06/superhero_movies_bankrupt_genre">critique of superhero movies</a>, no less a critic than Matt Zoller Seitz credits Favreau's <i>Iron Man</i> franchise with "cool competence" . . . and little else. As Seitz formulates them, superhero movies "[crank] up directors' box office averages and [keep] offbeat actors fully employed for years at a stretch by dutifully replicating (with precious few exceptions) the least interesting, least exciting elements of its source material." The critique is perfectly apt, but I think it fails to register the sort of societal self-examination that Favreau effects through this replication.<br /><br />Robert Downey Jr's Tony Stark is a perfect stand-in for the sort of second-generation tycoon that typifies the deficit of integrity and self-effacement that have been the unfortunate legacy of America's post-World War II prosperity. Stark wants all that is glamorous and awesome about being a titan, without any of the mundane drudgery. Part of this, of course, has to do with the sort of media saturation and commodification of sexuality that is a relatively recent development in American culture. <i>Americans</i> do not want their titans to be mundane any more than the Tony Starks of the world themselves do. But this sort of unbridled vanity is not without its costs, not the least of which is represented by the blurring of the lines between economies of production and value creation, and those derived solely from a desire to get rich.<br /><br />If it seems like I'm getting a bit doctrinaire, there is a point to it. <i>Iron Man 2</i> picks up right where its predecessor left off, with Stark basking in the glory of his revelation that he is indeed Iron Man and parlaying the public's fervor into the multi-million dollar monkey-spank that is the Stark Expo. The film's message about hubris and unbridled ambition is obvious, but where things get really interesting is in the weird doubling/opposition of Gwyneth Paltrow's Pepper Potts and Scarlett Johansson's Natasha Romanoff.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUYK3f4dMTS2A7EH4qi2QDP_GOAPWHoAoKXfjKlXyBfYG4HSqMukDFkmTSO1bm6hyiVwlwjW-V99XV42p5ERNOTwKUCDMSEQWhotCjozq9rokhNDzAGAWsfMUkBAquXFPbGd0sUl4Vh42/s1600/Picture+9.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUYK3f4dMTS2A7EH4qi2QDP_GOAPWHoAoKXfjKlXyBfYG4HSqMukDFkmTSO1bm6hyiVwlwjW-V99XV42p5ERNOTwKUCDMSEQWhotCjozq9rokhNDzAGAWsfMUkBAquXFPbGd0sUl4Vh42/s400/Picture+9.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472868806261534002" /></a><br />As with the best mainstream comics, Favreau uses an obvious opposition, in this case Pepper's prim elegance against Romanoff's more overt sensuality, to do something surprisingly sophisticated. As Romanoff first enters the film, at this point as Stark Enterprises counsel Natalie Rushman, she projects a dark and dangerous influence over Tony's life. Over Pepper's—and the viewer's—objections, Rushman encourages Tony to give in to each of his self-indulgent whims. The results of this are rather predictable, with Tony self-destructing at his own birthday party, losing an Iron Man suit, as well as the respect of just about everyone in his life.<br /><br />Had the movie played out predictably, Stark would have realized the error of his ways, rejected the sexual decadence of Rushman/Romanoff, in favor of Pepper's relentless responsibility, and ultimately defeated Ivan Vanko's robot army by tapping into the unique combination of organizational genius, bluff daring and technical wizardry that has pretty much defined his character over the years. But that isn't what happens—at least not exactly. The monkey wrench thrown into the works is at least nominally due to the film's relationship with the overall Marvel universe. The biggest surprise of the entrance of Samuel L. Jackson's entrance as Nick Fury—ignoring for a moment the incongruous casting—is the revelation that Natalie Rushman is actually S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Natasha Romanoff. Her turn as legal counsel Rushman is simply a cover that allows her to get close to Stark/Iron Man, whom Fury covets for his quasi-covert governmental goon squad.<br /><br />But setting aside this sort of comics nerd esotericism, it becomes clear that the movie can be read as something of an allegory of the early years of Obama's presidency, with Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanoff representing two seemingly opposed personae that the president has struggled to reconcile. Johansson's luridly sexual Romanoff is the equivalent of Obama as messianic world savior whose very election seemed to suggest that all the world's problems were over, while Paltrow's Pepper smacks of the pragmatic Chicago dealmaker whom everyone refused to see. What becomes clear as the film enters its third act, is that it is necessary to reconcile and harness both of these personae in order to have any hope of dealing with the enormous threat posed by Vanko and his slimy benefactor Hammer. The same can also be said of Obama as president—messianism alone cannot fix the enormous problems America faces, and yet people are bored by problem-solving pragmatism and thus it must be sexed-up a bit to make it more palatable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0MkoD4fd4MOvv0r9lMcEYpljsCBZL5tf4hFPGm76q5giP6K0IXFnXrRb-a5bCXTsVYfez9UDlGI-J89L-gAi9J_z1U1NlRFKaR210kyRDlb8LZy43BvISAZpgVl_77mS0fQBelHG1u8o/s1600/Picture+10.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 391px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0MkoD4fd4MOvv0r9lMcEYpljsCBZL5tf4hFPGm76q5giP6K0IXFnXrRb-a5bCXTsVYfez9UDlGI-J89L-gAi9J_z1U1NlRFKaR210kyRDlb8LZy43BvISAZpgVl_77mS0fQBelHG1u8o/s400/Picture+10.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472868814994975586" /></a><br />If it seems like I am stretching things a bit with this analogy, consider Mickey Rourke's delightfully threatening turn as Ivan Vanko. Vanko is essentially Stark's intellectual equal and yet he is far more dangerous precisely because he is not motivated by a desire for wealth or personal glory. As Vanko sees it, men like Stark and his father placed their own personal gain ahead of the sort of selfless dedication of men like his own father and, in doing so, not only robbed him of his own personal birthright, but ultimately made the world a much less salubrious place. There are many Americans now, misguided though some of them may be, who feel a similar disgust at the sort of unbridled greed and unprincipled ambition that have come rather close to bankrupting the country.<br /><br /><i>Iron Man</i> was the product of an America in which the greatest threat to our prosperity continued to be the foreign conflicts in which we were involved for increasingly nebulous purposes. What is perhaps most surprising about <i>Iron Man 2</i> is that it avoids the predictable representation of the industrialist as unalloyed villain. Like its predecessor, <i>Iron Man 2</i> is sophisticated precisely because it rejects just that sort of easy polemicism that simplifies national problems into neatly categorizable distinctions between Right and Left or Liberal and Conservative, and presents events in terms of a broadly distinguishable struggle between good and evil. And that it does so at the same time as it delightfully entertains is certainly deserving of admiration.david e. ford, jrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13530623430089464503noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-13700492469696538462010-05-18T20:59:00.002-04:002010-05-18T23:24:30.601-04:00LINKS FOR SERIOUS????????<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SvS1ch0nDlw/S-iv__ILY8I/AAAAAAAAACk/kx4Ejbxltgk/s1600/Picture+8.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SvS1ch0nDlw/S-iv__ILY8I/AAAAAAAAACk/kx4Ejbxltgk/s320/Picture+8.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469815261253821378" border="0" /></a>-<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?g2nnumnlht2">Download</a> Diamond Comics #5. This came out a several weeks ago and has got some cool art from Pete Toms, Benjamin Marra, and others. Published for free by Floating World, but only circulated around Portland. It's <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/floatingworldcomics/diamond-comics-5-free-comics-newspaper-of-exper">funding</a> is maintained by viewers like you so, you know, pay it forward. <span style="font-style: italic;">-<i>j</i></span><br /><br />-Brandon Graham <a href="http://www.comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=26184">interview</a> at CBR. Reveals that he's close to finishing issue #12 of King City which will be the last issue of King City 2, and also that his next project will be Multiple Warheads. And Brandon Graham is always straight up, "<span id="intelliTXT">Plus, I'm the kind of asshole who asks about the ends of movies that I haven't seen." Also in Brandon Graham news, his list of "dream" comics from his <a href="http://royalboiler.livejournal.com/">livejournal</a> is pretty entertaining. Included was James Stokoe's <a href="http://freakangels.com/whitechapel/comments.php?DiscussionID=7554&page=2#Item_9">Silver Surfer</a> which is actually partially completed, and</span><span id="intelliTXT"> apparently he just did for fun one day</span><span id="intelliTXT">. -<i>j</i></span><br /><br />-Also, <a href="http://coldheatcomics.blogspot.com/2010/05/easy.html">Frank Santoro's Silver Surfer</a>. Love these strange, dull vibrant colors and the overall hazy feel of the image. It's like the comics equivalent of a distorted, kinda electronic cover of a classic pop song.-<i>b</i><br /><br />-New Mignola <a href="http://www.ifanboy.com/content/articles/EXCLUSIVE_-_New_Mignola_Art_-_Hellboy___Solomon_Kane">art</a>. -<i>j</i><br /><br />-With images of Batman as a hoarder and Lego universes Ulises Farinas' internet game has been pretty tight, but he's just taken it to the next level with his <a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1005/4600963241_5d4bc63d92_o.jpg">Gotham Go GO GO</a>. It pleases me to no end when webcomics actually use the internet to their advantage, and Go GO GO's eye catching giant middle panel is a perfect example. A panel of Superman with tears streaming from his eyes and his heat vision on the fritz after being mind controlled seals the deal. (<a href="http://www.comicsalliance.com/2010/05/12/superman-vs-gotham-city-farinas/">via</a>) <span style="font-style: italic;">-j</span><br /><br />-<a href="http://deathtotheuniverse.blogspot.com/">Death to the Universe</a> has been a comics blog that's been blowing me away lately. I found it after Matt, the blog's creator, commented over here and really, just wow. Smart, fun comics writing with a good sense of history and dude's feet are always on the ground, which is important. There's a real good thing on Starlin's <i>Warlock</i> up right now.-<i>b</i><br /><br />-<a href="http://inkstuds.com/?p=2844">Paul Pope and Dash Shaw in conversation with Robin from INKSTUDS</a>.-<i>b</i><br /><br />-You've probably already seen <a href="http://animatedalbums.tumblr.com/">Animated Albums</a>, but yeah, some dude doing some old-school Gilliam-esque cut-out animation on a computer. I wish dude would pick better albums though.-<i>b</i><br /><br />-This <a href="http://www.theoriginalsoundtrack.com/2010/05/tips-for-freelancers-artists-and-other-creative-types/">"Tips for Freelancers, Artists, and Other Creative Types"</a> is helpful for any creative types out there, making money off their creative type stuff or trying to make money off their creative type stuff.-<i>b</i><br /><br />-<a href="http://blatantineptitude.blogspot.com/2010/05/mia-musics-newest-marketing-frontier.html">"M.I.A. and music's newest marketing frontier: the guerilla Web itself"</a> by Gardner is a really interesting take on the web and what I've taken to call anti-memes or web imagery in a post-meme world: "MIA has taken the culture of the Internet's most creative, subversive and zealous hipsters to market herself and wrap her whole brand."-<i>b</i><br /><br />-Finally, rest in peace to the great Ronnie James Dio. Our buddy Julian has <a href="http://heavymetalinfinity.blogspot.com/2010/05/rip-ronnie-james-dio-1942-2010.html">his thoughts on Dio's death</a> over at <i>Heavy Metal Infinity</i>. Also, Phil Freeman's <a href="http://blogs.villagevoice.com/music/archives/2010/05/a_users_guide_t.php">"A User's Guide To Ronnie James Dio, 1942-2010"</a>.-<i>b</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5781642913058207208.post-49310646194412486082010-05-13T15:57:00.012-04:002010-05-14T01:01:09.354-04:00The Best of Ariel Pink's Sketchbook (NSFW)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeW_FpVDY0rwMVTsn9qLho_SGS4KeJtKRUIyLlPDxCBE6iQ_Xa587MEhcA7Zj1Pbtuh0uE4eZIt2BeRQuOvDAMG-i-4ODgEqa-4h5wNAzB3Dsh4qQhRwH69qezJ2wFWFWwpZbM2k0ka2by/s1600/AP.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 540px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeW_FpVDY0rwMVTsn9qLho_SGS4KeJtKRUIyLlPDxCBE6iQ_Xa587MEhcA7Zj1Pbtuh0uE4eZIt2BeRQuOvDAMG-i-4ODgEqa-4h5wNAzB3Dsh4qQhRwH69qezJ2wFWFWwpZbM2k0ka2by/s400/AP.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470874188389260994" border="0" /></a>Scooped from an <a com="" la3="" zanna="">angelfire</a> website with 18 drawings, I've selected for you, the <b>BEST 10 of AP's sketchbook</b>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">For context, Ariel Pink is a lo-fi, avant garde musician from Los Angeles, California. He's noted as being "weird" or "outsider" and these drawings neither confirm nor deny this. Personally, what I like about these sketchbook drawings is they maintain craft. He didn't play down his ability to draw which is pretty great in the context of a sketchbook. The images where he does use simple lines and shading are hilarious. His drawing ability is so consistent and well-rendered, it's borderline obsessive. I always wished, when I kept a sketchbook, that my drawings would meet both criteria seen here: 1. well drawn 2. interesting but after seeing these, I don't think I can ever doodle again. </span><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">10. </span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This looks like some sort of contraption straight out of a Tim Burton movie but with hidden dicks? </span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart05b.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">9. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A faceless "psychedelic businessman" is similarly Tim Burton-esque but with less dicks and shards of clothing holding on to the contraption. </span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart02b.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a> <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">8. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think a couple of these are for mixtapes? This is the first of the two. Ignore the great list of music on the side and just the gross, old man, face saying he's "fucked up and horny" clearly commuicates a possible underlying theme for the tape. Plus, I always want to hear "what was said at the dinner party" and music from MEGAMAN. </span></div><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart14b.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /></a> <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">7. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">More traditionally artsy? It's a haunting show of draping and stretching over stuff that I can't quite make out besides the upside-down bird at the bottom. </span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart01b.jpg" alt="7" border="0" /></a> <div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">6. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Maybe it's a scrapped album cover or single cover, as we can see his name in the upper left corner...but continuing on the theme from number 7; it's as if items are lost in some weird mass of drape-y material. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart06b.jpg" alt="6" border="0" /></a> </div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">5.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Old fart, Booty time is amazing. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart15b.jpg" alt="5" border="0" /></a> <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">4. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Whatever this is, I'd like to own it. It seems like another tape cover with his music on it, as I am noticing some familiar song titles. Notice that Peter Schilling, David Bowie, Santana and Isaac Hayes all played a part in the making of this :-)</span><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart13b.jpg" alt="4" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">3.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Hellloooo, <a href="http://www.benjaminmarra.com/">Benjamin Marra</a>!!! Testosterone eaters, johnny pump? I need an AP + Benjamin Marra comic immediately. </span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart09b.jpg" alt="3" border="0" /></a> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">2. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A child hiding inside various human forms. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart04b.jpg" alt="2" border="0" /></a> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">!!!!!#1.!!!!!! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Not sure I've seen a better sketchbook impression of boredom. Are those neurons coming out of the bottom? So good. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i918.photobucket.com/albums/ad28/monique_r/ariart18b.jpg" alt="1" border="0" /></a></div>Monique R.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07026396492946798863noreply@blogger.com0