I updated this blog exactly one month ago, and since, nothing new from me has surfaced on here. I apologize. By now, my planned posts of Ultimate Spider-man nonsense should be long settled, yet I haven’t even begun essay #2. No fear. I haven’t given up. Not by a long shot. I’m just taking care of the priorities at the moment  – like wonderful school. As soon as the time presents itself, this blog will receive my full attention. I still love writing about comics. That shit still remains.

So where do I pick up? God, so much has happened in terms of comics. Ah, fuck, why don’t I just begin with some good old self promotion? I’ve been up to things.

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I’m unsure whether I ever officially made the announcement here, but I am now an actual staff writer for Spandexless.com. I couldn’t be happier. Honest. I’ve dabbled in other site writing gigs before, *cough*PopMatters *cough*, and I can say Spandexless has yet to enforce a strict, tyrannical stance or tamper with my writing. Both Beth and Alex, the editors, are way cool, and seem to be open to anything I’d like to write. And better yet, they let my words go, only editing the necessary bits. I enjoy that. PopMatters completely rewrote shit and left my name on it to take the fall …

So, go check out a few of my favorite pieces posted over there thus far. Especially this interview I conducted with Twisted Savage Dragon Funnies editor Michel Fiffe in which we discussed process and his comic book Zegas. I had fun with this, and Michel is an ultra nice guy.

There’s also this review of The Black Forest, an anthology published by a Pittsburgh art collective.

Whoo!

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I recently received a promotion at the college radio station I’m involved with, U92-FM, to head up their local music show known as The Morgantown Sound. While it’s certainly a radio show, Morgantown Sound also involves booking and recording live bands from the region for eventual broadcast. In fact, that aspect of the program is quickly becoming the main feature.

So far, I’ve had some success with it, and I’m quickly falling more and more into the project. As of now, I’m the show’s producer and receiving a pay check. Can’t complain there. More importantly though, I see this as an opportunity to actually have an affect on the local community and possibly build a hub for local music and add to the Morgantown culture.

There’s a great history there, and I’m looking to build Morgantown Sound into a living document of the city’s music scene, both past and present.

For now, you can check out this newspaper article I was interviewed for as well as the actual Morgantown Sound blog. Right now, it hosts a few recordings we’ve done. In the future, it will be home to much, much more, and I’m sure you’ll hear me mention it again.

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Before Watchmen. I’m not into it. Here are my thoughts, which I posted on a forum after reading page after page of odd support for the project.

I’m going to sit in the cynics camp for this argument as well.

DC legally has every right to make this move, and I’m sure it’ll make them more money than I’ll ever personally make. That’s cool. I won’t even argue DC fucked over Alan Moore. I’m not subscribing to any thought that they slid their hands together and giggled as they signed the original deal. if anything, Moore thought Watchmen would be his after a year, and DC would have contractually given it to him if the book would have gone out of print. The drive of capitalism kept the book in print, though, so DC kept to their side of the deal. Moore’s smart enough to have possibly thought of such an outcome.

No, my beef is purely with what I think this announcement says about comics at this point. It shows that the industry has come as far to no longer honor anything. Nothing remains sacred. Not that anything has ever been sacred in comics. Ideas have been exploited for decades, but it seemed that even past that Comics had a little class to recognize and protect a few, specific ideas and works. Before Watchmen says that Comics has moved past that. There’s no longer any honor, not even a %. Instead, everything’s for sale, and comics is now entirely an industry rather than partially being one. In my eyes, at least.

I know. It’s cynical. it’s a childish stand to take, and I’m sure most will laugh as they read this post, but I honestly felt a bit sick when I read this thread because it even cemented the idea a little more in my head. No one cares anymore. Instead, everyone wants what they want at the end of the day. They want more Watchmen. They want sales. They want Darwyn Cooke. And it’ll all be justified any way possible.

And don’t even give me the argument that “comics are all about exploitation.” Yeah, that’s true, but I find it very sad when people seem to just except that idea rather than want to change it. Before Watchmen is just another mark in the long history of exploitation comics holds. And not just creator exploitation, but idea exploitation. Moore’s right when he says DC is running off his ideas from 25 years ago. Before Watchmen is completely derivative of something he made. And, yeah, he did make it. Sure, it’s inspired by Charlton, but I think Watchmen’s finished product stands so far from Charlton it’s its own idea.

And Moore’s not a hypocrite. Chris Mautner says it well:

“And the fact that Moore has frequently drawn upon classic literary material in works like Lost Girls and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is also irrelevant (although let me make an aside here to say that there’s a big difference between building a pastiche using familiar characters and motifs to create something new and original, and rehashing familiar material to make a quick and cynical cash grab).” http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/2012/02/weve-come-so-far-on-before-watchmen-and-creators-rights/#more-105188

Basically, I feel Before Watchmen has taken Comics over the edge. The mainstream side of things has been dying away in my eyes for months now, and this has managed to kill it completely. It’s simply not a matter of “should they or shouldn’t” or even Watchmen itself. Instead, this is about something larger. Is Comic just enough cog in capitalism’s machine or is it the special, intimate, thoughtful industry we’ve all made it out to be? Before Watchmen surely says cog.

Later, after being called naive because I thought the comics industry was nice and rainbow-like, I posted:

It’s not about bubble bursting. It’s more about the acceptance. This seems like a clear instance where people could, understanding the circumstance of it, turn their backs on Before Watchmen. DC will publish it nontheless, but audience reaction will determine it’s success. From where it currently stands, it seems DC will win out.

I’m not sure if that would have been the case 5 years ago, but after Alan Moore’s code seemed to get in the way of everybody’s fun, people seemed ready to rebel against the old man. I guess this is the result.

I don’t know. The entire argument is dumb. If anything, read these two pieces.

http://4thletter.net/2012/02/newsarama-needs-to-do-better/

http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/2012/02/weve-come-so-far-on-before-watchmen-and-creators-rights/#more-105188

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I’m tired. Bye.

I know it’s technically Ultimate Comics Ultimate Man Spider-comics Spider-man now, but to me the Brian Michael Bendis series is simply Ultimate Spider-man. Three words. One hyphen. That’s it.

Some time between 2008 and 2009, Marvel Comics decided to publish a comic book mini series entitled Ultimatum. It’s purpose? Totally wash away Marvel’s special line of comics known as the “Ultimate Line” and leave the debris in a position to rebuild after – a little retcon fueled disaster event to get all the fans up in arms. Written by Jeph Loeb and drawn by David Finch, Ultimatum took Marvel’s line of “limited continuity,” “free from Marvel mainline crud” comics and injected it with its own dose of Marvel hysteria and event comic chaos. Ultimate Comics, a subdivision of Marvel Comics traditional 6-1-6 line, suddenly found itself uprooted in limbo after nearly ten years of consistent focus and “left alone” mindset.

It was right at this time I dropped Ultimate Spider-man. And when I say dropped Ultimate Spider-man, I don’t mean “I bought it for 3 issues and then tossed it off my pull list.” No. I dropped Ultimate Spider-man. Like a “after buying it for 60-some issues and then going on a fanboy rampage” kind of drop.

To cut it short, the entire reason for dropping the title was an extremely dumb one. Basically, David Lafuente did not equal Mark Bagley (clearly because he is much better), and without the visual voice of Mark Bagley Ultimate Spider-man was no longer Ultimate Spider-man. Granted, I did buy the Stuart Immonen stuff, and I tolerated it (I clearly had poor judgement in the early days),  but when Lafuente showed up, it pushed such a drastic change that the title I came to count on left me hanging. I dropped that shit cold. Cried about it on the internet. Did the fanboy thing. Hard.

Looking back, the whole thing was not my most respectable moment. The excuses I had for “hating” the Lafuente work are things I would easily laugh at anyone else for saying today. But, at the time, my interest in Ultimate Spider-man suffered a fatal blow, and from then on I would do my best to avoid the book. Just up until recently.

I’ve gone back, and after a little back issue hunting (remember that shit?), I’ve managed to read the entirety of Ultimate Spider-man Phase 2 a.k.a. what I’ll term the “Lafuente Era” as well as “Death of Spider-man,” which is everything I missed during  my great purge. And what’s funny is, “Death of Spider-man” aside, this is probably the best portion of Ultimate Spider-man overall, and I skipped it. I’d even consider it a little crown jewel in Bendis’ entire career at Marvel because the “Lafuente Era” of Ultimate Spider-man did it right. Between a combination of aesthetics and pure storytelling, Bendis and Lafuente captured the essence of the teenage super hero story, fulfilling the entire concept of Ultimate Spider-man, at a higher level of craft, some 140 issues from its beginning.

But something had to be sacrificed in order to achieve that short stretch of issues. A notion of consistency. Maybe the above bits of my personal back story were simply that – personal bits – but I feel the interruption or shift I felt as a long time reader actually reflects an overall shift in this long running comic book series. Look back at it. Ultimate Spider-man, for something like 8 years, marched on at a steady pace, with consistent aesthetics, telling the same, focused story. 8 years.Ultimate Spider-man may be one of the last comics of its kind to accomplish such a run, and between the book’s own determined focus and my infantile attachment to it, the crashing wave of Ultimatum, and the shake up that followed, put the whole operation in rough waters.

So this, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how Brian Michael Bendis did his best to steer his saga of “power and responsibility” clear of murky waters and keep it afloat. Of how a relaunch, a renumbering, a death and a rebirth – all in the course of two years – tried their hardest to derail Bendis’ solid 8 year train. For my next few blog pieces, I’m going to take a look at the period of Ultimate Spider-man I didn’t read. The “Lafuente Era,” but also the PR stunt known as “Death of Spider-man,” and I’ll even dive into the more recent version of the title featuring the character Miles Morales. The purpose? To discuss each as an individual work, but to also try and connect the three shifts – “Lafeunte,” “Death,” “Miles” – and see how they each represent their own version of Ultimate Spider-man as well as represent a period of identity crisis for a title that was once so sure of itself.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Up first, the “Lafuente Era.”

None of these issues are perfect, and neither when paired together do they create a perfect work, but I’d mark the first 6 issues of Lafuente Spider-man closer to perfect Ultimate Spider-man than anything else.

Big, hyperbolic statement. Maybe I should back down, but it’s true.

What this initial arc accomplishes so well is providing the perspective of Peter Parker, or more or less, really putting the reader behind the eyes of a teenage super hero, placing him or her into that world. Which makes sense. The title of the arc is “The New World According to Peter Parker.” And while it’s clearly a mark of Bendis’ pen that brings about this focus, David Lafuente obviously makes the huge impact because it’s his contribution that inspires the youthful attitude as well as energetic bounce.

Looking at his artwork, the energy comes across as hard to deny. Speed lines up in your face. Expressive style. The vibrant colors dubbed on by Justin Ponsor. The elements are there for explosive comic book art, but the component that really catches the attention and sells the performance is the roundness and curve of Lafuente’s line work. It’s the element that captures that sense of motion you experience while reading a Lafuente drawn comic book. The curves seem to suggest a youthful vitality and plumpness, and it’s such a contrast from the muscle tight, skinny aesthetic Mark Bagley provided. There’s life there. A freshness, versus the 1990s-heyday look Bagley performs.

But motion derives itself from another element important to this comic. Lafuente uses a nice array of vertical panel structures throughout his entire stay on Ultimate Spider-man, which I found to be an interesting choice in page design as well as storytelling. First, the focus on vertical direction relates itself well to the Spider-man character, the subject of the piece. The character travels and fights in an acrobatic, vertically dependent fashion. The panel structure Lafuente insights sort of places the subject in an ideal environment, allowing the actual illustration to rest in a frame that works with it rather than simply houses it. Second, this is Lafuente’s way of dealing with the “Bendis Problem” I think most artists face when drawing one of his scripts – talking heads. Where long, horizontal panels tend to slow down a story in order to suggest a widescreen affect, vertical panels seem to quicken the pace by providing this quick cut movement to the page. This speeds up the scenes drenched in dialogue while making it visually exciting. But it also effects the actual dialogue. As a reader, you’re reading these sequences in a cut-to-cut fashion, so you’re reading faster. Which works. Teens tend to talk fast, and it’s already a tone Bendis writes in when writing Ultimate Spider-man so Lafuente’s contribution to the storytelling matches up very well, emphasizing what Bendis does.

So while curved lines and vertical panels suggest youthful energy, I would also suggest the actual style Lafuente draws in adds to the youthful perspective. I’m not at all an expert in manga, but Lafuente’s style is certainly manga influenced. Manga stylings have been creeping their way into American animation for years, and in this day and age it’s sort of won out with the younger audience. Anime, manga … it’s what the kids are into, and I know from experience, most high school kids that like to draw … they draw in an anime-inspired style. This suggests to me that a lot of younger people sort of automatically dub a manga influence to maybe the things they imagine – as in cartoons, drawings. So the visual design sort represents that teenage perspective in terms of illustration and what else, but more importantly, it simply represents an aesthetic that’s popular at the moment, popular especially with a younger demographic.

Bendis certainly does not freeload on Lafuente’s talent, though. While the writer plays up the usual plot elements of supporting cast and riff-heavy dialogue, it’s Bendis’ attention to teenage specific conflicts that really cements the desired perspective. I think issue 1 lays everything out so smoothly, especially the first page in which we see a single close up of Peter Parker’s face as he reviews the details of his life.

“My name is Peter Parker. I am Spider-man.”
“I was bit by a one-of-a-kind spider and now I have one-of-a-kind spider-powers.”
“I’ve saved the world. Or at least helped save it.”
“I almost died doing it. A couple of times. For real. But I didn’t.”
“I’ve fought bad guys of every shape and size. True bad guys. World-class villains. Bad bad guys.”
“I’ve met super heroes, icons. Captain America. Yep.”
“You’re talking to a sixteen-year-old who can swing across the city on a web line he actually invented.”
“A guy who can life a city bus over his head. A guy who has fought the Hulk and walked away from it.”
“We’re talkin’ vampires, mutants, Doctor Doom, Sandman, Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus …”
“I have already seen and done more than most people will ever get to do in their whole lives.”
“And now I have one question, and I want you to think about this very carefully.”
“I want you to look my in the eye and I want you to tell me:”

“Do you want fries with that?”

Turn the page, and you discover Peter works at some shitty fast food joint.

I love this opener for its flow and build up, but even more for the attitude it suggests – and it’s something I can completely relate to. That feeling, that when you’re a teenager, you know everything, have done it all, yet you’re still subjected to adults looking down on you. Now, while Peter certainly has done it all, the scene still captures that vibe of “desired verification” from an adult audience by simply its setting. Peter’s out of the costume here. He’s on the job, looking like any plain slub who can work a cash register. No one sees how special he is, or how special he sees himself. He’s just on the job, doing what anyone could, in an environment where adults run the show. And that’s shown when an elderly woman confronts Peter’s manager, another adult, and falsely accuses him of being a smart ass. While falsely accused, the manger automatically assumes the old woman is in the right and degrades Peter without hearing anything Peter has to say.Because he’s a “kid.”

The writing here even backs a classic “Peter Parkerism” – you know, “Puny Parker. He’s nothing special.” It’s a sort of cast off line Stan Lee would write for Flash Thompson all the time, but it sort of comes along and lives in this scene, summing up a very real thought felt by many people in their teenage years.  That sensation of not being  understood and the desire for respect from those older than you.

But that’s one, specific example. Really, it’s a case of the first 6 issues as a whole. To sum it up, when read together, “The New World According to Peter Parker” just reads like a very solid pop super hero comic in which the youth perspective is at the forefront. Whether it’s simply being placed in a house full of 16-somethings as Aunt May continues to take in and house many of Peter’s friends or the high school relationship drama, the first six issues of Bendis and Lafuente’s run are all about a youthful aesthetic and voice. And it’s done. Well.

The antagonist of the first arc, Mysterio, even supports what the creators are after as the character is really one of the few adults shown in the story. His villainy, then, comes as no surprise. He’s that adult looking to crash the party and subject his creed on the kids. This thought eventually reaches its climax as Mysterio learns of Peter’s super hero secret and attacks him at his very school, suggesting no place is safe.

A fair criticism of the Mysterio plot line may be it’s seeming lack of motivation, but I felt the character’s unexplained presence actually supports the theory I’m implying. Mysterio, as the original Steve Ditko sprawl of fog and green latex, worked under a faceless guise, and such a tradition is carried over to this new vision of the character where facelessness works in favor of an unexplained origin or purpose. What we know is that the character’s a bad guy who wants Spider-man, or “Spider-boy” as he once refers to him as, dead, and that makes him scary. It’s not the reason for his villainy or his background. It’s the simple surface of the character’s guise which suggests a sensation of the unknown that makes him frightening, and it’s the idea of a faceless threat which suggests something untouchable. A greater projection of an idea – which is certainly something Mysterio usually concocts with his “super power.” What better way to represent the “evil” adults than a single, identity-free super villain who just happens to be one of the few adults in the story? Why not represent that in a character who’s more like a force than just a individual man? Of course he doesn’t need a motivation. He’s just an old man trying to ruin the youth’s fun.

So that’s really, kind of the first 6 issues. If I were to sum it up in one word, I’d go with immersion.

The latter half of the Bendis/Lafuente run is, however, not necessarily as solid. Instead, the plotting sort of suffers from a usual Bendis fault in which too many plot beats are stacked on top of one another. They’re not bad comics. The aesthetics still ride high and please the senses. The problem lies more in the structure of the plot, and because Bendis is determined to make so much happen, certain plot lines suffer and are lost in the mix. Name example, the Kitty Pryde stuff.

I like how Bendis brings Kitty into this incarnation of Ultimate Spider-man, and how he uses her to handle the entire ‘Mutants in the Ultimate Marvel Universe” thing. Her story really ends up representing another tried and true conflict felt in teenage wasteland, only her’s is a drastic extension of the thought I was on earlier with Peter Parker and the shitty fast food job: being misunderstood. Bendis’ writing of her and her situation call on the typical X-men story – mutants hated by the public – but he pivots the usual plot detail into a position where it resonates with the teen mantra of “the world doesn’t get me.” It’s a nice touch and well represented by Kitty’s new identity of  ‘The Shroud,’ where she literally is dressed head-to-toe in a cloak, hidden from the world.

When Bendis decides to really open up the Kitty can of worms though, he does it, brings the drama, but quickly sidetracks and moves onto something else. Which, I guess, in itself would be fine, but he does so in the midst of one story arc, after selling the reader on the Kitty plot line. “Tainted Love” starts out taking two issues to focus on the Kitty thing and by issue three dovetails into this out-of-no-where Chameleon plot. The comic gains this tangential sensation around this point, and the move sort of cheapens some of the importance placed on Kitty’s story. You know, by making it only a “plot mechanism” to plant the seeds for the Chameleon story. Which, eventually, proves to be a lesser, done-to-death story. Although, like the Mysterio stuff, Chameleon is another villain who’s identity is a question, continuing the theme from the first arc, yet only upping the ante when he robs Peter of his identity.

The real gold moment of “Tainted Love” comes with J. Jonah Jameson, though, who’s ever-passionate hatred of Spider-man comes to a head as he uncovers who Peter Parker really is. This scene illustrates the adult perspective and the teenage perspective colliding, or better yet, becoming one as both Peter and Jameson are in the same predicament. They’ve both had their identities hijacked by Chameleon, and they are both now tied up and held captive. There’s no separation. Neither one is better than the other. They’re just both drugged hostages seeing the world from the same, poorly lit room.

I wouldn’t say this run of Ultimate Spider-man comes to any conclusions by its finish. I didn’t receive any great speech or answer to any of life’s great questions. It’s not that kind of comic. Instead, these 15 issues crafted by the likes of Bendis, Lafuente and Ponsor, are more about setting a certain tone and letting a reader live in that. Immersion, or like I said at some point in this post, capturing the essence of the teenager. Which is what the core of Spider-man – all the way back to Ditko – is. And it’s what Ultimate Spider-man has always been about. The teenager.

Out of the three shifts, I’d call the “Lafuente Era” the ideal version of Ultimate Spider-man. While Bendis and Bagley captured the concept early on in their run, the work the team produced eventually piled up into a heaping mass that sort of negated what Ultimate Comics was about: continuity free tales. Granted, this run may continue that continuity plagued narrative, but in some ways the Bendis/Lafuente run feels like a reboot of Ultimate Spider-man. Any new reader could pick up Ultimate Spider-man here and get a complete – or semi-complete – picture. The voice is here. The core of the Spider-man concept is here. And the aesthetics are superb.

If I were to guess, when Bendis saw the chance to start over, you know,  post-Ultimatum, I think he took it – like really took it. Because this version of Ultimate Spider-man may be similar, but it’s also entirely different.

I feel David Lafuente made the difference. What he brought to the table changed this book, giving it this new, magical charm. His style, his line work – those things embody the spirit of Ultimate Spider-man. New, fresh, exciting, energized. That’s what Ultimate Comics was meant to be.

The “Lafuente Era” feels like the start of an entirely new title rather than some continuation of an 8 year plot, and I feel Bendis and Co. would have kept it going if not for the loud interruption known as “Death of Spider-man,” which, ultimately, left the end of this run somewhat unfinished and keeps it from existing as a complete, closed story.

That interruption is what I’ll write about next.

Next time: I go over “Death of Spider-man” in a much shorter blog post.

So the year ended, yet here I am still trying to put a finger on what 2011 was. I don’t know. I wouldn’t call it a bad year, but neither would I proclaim it an era of good fortune. Instead, 2011 felt very much like a bullet point in the overall process of becoming whoever I’m fucking supposed to be.

Is that weird? To think of myself as “in development”? I think it is, but I do. Maybe just because I’m obsessed with “process.”

Anyway, 2011. I set out last January to push myself toward new experiences, jumping outside the safety net of a comfort zone in order to broaden my perspective. I think I accomplished that to some degree in 2011, but I feel I need to go further. Push harder. In terms of social situations, work ethic, education and whatever else. 2012 looks to only continue that longterm process I’m in the midst of, but maybe, just maybe, I’ll get out of R&D a bit this year and fulfill some sense of self I’m supposed to possess. Because right now, I’m still uncertain of who exactly I am or where I stand.

Fuck. I’m saying waaaaay too much, aren’t I?

Here’s to the internet and later regrets, and may 2012 not suck.

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While this blog did not update last week, I did have a few slivers of content release.

First, there’s the return of The Chemical Box podcast with my good buddy Joey Aulisio. It’s something like an hour of Joe and I discussing Rick Remender, Jerome Opena and Dean White’s Uncanny X-force as well as Warren Ellis on Secret Avengers and even the horrors of dubstep and Korn. Give it a listen. More shows are in the works as I type this. Plus, if you just know me from this blog, much of my prior stint on the comics internet was in podcasting, and while I’m in no shape or form a better podcaster than writer, it may be worth looking into if you at all give a shit about what I do (I don’t see why you would).

Second, I wrote two reviews for Spandexless.com. First, a short review on a comic titled Man From Space. It’s not great, but there are a few interesting uses of color in it. And second, I wrote something like 1,400 words on Jonathan Hickman’s The Red Wing, his big return to Image Comics. Up front, I wasn’t crazy about it. For more critiques, read my review.

And third, I promise, right this instant, that you will see an actual blog post on this blog before the week’s out. While I didn’t write anything last week, I did sit down and map out quite a few future pieces I’d like to write. I’m hoping to do some actual worthwhile shit in 2012. Stay tuned.

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SOPA. It’s a stupid answer to a legitimate problem. I’m all in favor of ripping the bill to shreds and flipping off the lobbyists behind it.

That said, I don’t necessarily support the outrage at Marvel over their support of it.

Ok, well, maybe I do. I’m cool with people boycotting the comics and taking a stand. I think that’s great. Part of me would like to join in just to simply fulfill that lingering teenage angst inside of me as well as take part in the growing collective feel of “fighting back.” I like that people, in all sorts of ways, are fighting back and no longer tolerating the shit they’re subjected to. Whether it’s Wall Street or comics, I like this idea of people taking a stand, telling The Man to fuck himself.

But here’s the thing. You can’t pick one scapegoat to carry all of your problems and blames. Especially not with this SOPA situation. To me, if you’re going to pick one media company as bully, you might as well pick a few or even go all out. Because if not, you end up a hypocrite. Whether it’s simply throwing DC into your Marvel boycott (because Time Warner is on that list) or even stepping a bit broader and skipping over ESPN or any Major League Baseball game in your channeling surfing, the fight’s bigger than Marvel. I know we like to paint them as our Hitler, which they probably are – I’m not denying that – but if you pick one enemy and not recognize the others, to me, you make your boycott and your “stand” a hole-ridden protest.

But really, not buying some shit Hulk comic seems like a poor, in direct way to fight a piece of legislation. Instead, I’d suggest calling your Congressman or signing a petition. Inform your neighbors of the dangers of SOPA. Get politically active. Don’t protest comic books. Maybe it sends a message to Marvel, but really the issue is SOPA, not Marvel.

Instead, boycott Marvel for some other reason. They’ve given you plenty. Me? I’m just some soulless fuck who likes reading Moon Knight too much that I’ll compromise my ethical reputation to do so. Maybe one day I’ll do right.

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Buy this book: http://www.unicornmountain.com/#bookssection

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Read this blog post destroying the Matt Fraction/Olivier Coipel Mighty Thor #1. Terrible comic. Wonderful blog post.

…

Keep smiling. Drink one for me. *end*

And I’m back. Alive. Just glad Christmas is over.

Yes, I have totally been Scrooge this year. Or maybe, better yet, Charlie Brown. I don’t know, something about getting older and Christmas doesn’t necessarily match up. I’m in that weird in between time, right now. I’m no longer a young kid, believing in Santa but neither do I have my own kids and seep enjoyment through their excitement. Instead, I’m the college kid who comes home to mom and dad and quickly realizes how much he likes living on his own.

And my parents. Shit. They’re at the point where their one and only kid has stopped believing in Santa, is in college and doesn’t exactly want to be home with them. It’s fucked up for everybody. And we don’t really get anything out of the whole religious angle, either.

But, yeah. My mom did made a nice dinner. That was enjoyable. Other than that, watching “A Charlie Brown Christmas” was my one source of pleasure on this holiday. I never realized how willing that special is to allow its narrative to wonder and float. Clearly there’s a tight plot for its 30-some minute run time, but Schultz let that thing drift a bit and sink in. Whether it’s with scenes spent walking through the snow or odd, off the wall spotlights on particular members of the Peanuts cast, “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is a very patient, atmospheric story. I kind of forgot how beautiful that special is.

Ah well. Links.

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Go listen to the new Splash Page Podcast. Tim Callahan and Chad Nevett chat for three hours on comics, writing, “blogspheres” and whatever else. Honestly, it’s a new Splash Page. Good enough reason, if you ask me. Only the best comics podcast ever.

Listen.

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I’ve fallen into the comics of John Porcellino after reading King-Cat #72 for a review assignment over at Spandexless.com. This dude is legit. Self-published, serialized comics about life and whatever else. Oddly enough, if I were to make a comic, King-Cat is what I would want to make. In some sense. Laugh if you want, but Porcellino demands my attention. Once I’ve caught up on the pile of books I already own and have the money, his catalog will be mine. For now, here’s an excerpt from my forth coming Spandexless review.

John Porcellino seems like one of those true, vagabond artist types. Whether it’s reading his blog or this issue of King-Cat, you gather the vibe he lives both the life of a romantic and a starving artist – traveling, living on whim and creating. And even though he portrays his life in this comic as sad, depraved and hungry, I actually want the life this guy has.

Also, the King-Cat website. Here. Porcellino’s blog. Here.

—

Tucker Stone was interviewed by Tom Spurgeon. Read the interview. I don’t agree with everything, but it’s certainly one of the more entertaining interviews I’ve read in a while. I liked this bit the most.

Let me be absolutely clear: It is my choice to participate in these things — to read shitty web sites and get irritated by what people promote online and how they promote it — but the only alternative, the way I see it, would be to quit the job I currently have and have a consumer-only relationship with comics. If you write about this stuff — and I think you can take the modifier “certain kind of comic book” out of the equation, because art/alt comics people are as bad (if not actually worse) — you’re going to end up bumping into that part of the industry all of the time.

I’m just glad someone of Tucker’s caliber said that because it seems so easy to just flip off all mainstream comics anymore and praise the art scene. Tucker’s a respected dude in that scene, so it’s cool to see him not pander to it. Instead, he’s unbiased and real, throwing shit at everyone. I like it.

—-

Short week. I’m tired. Peace.

10. Moon Knight – Brian Michael Bendis and Alex Maleev

Technically, this probably shouldn’t be on any top 10 list because I’m not sure every issue has been crafted so well, but whatever, I’ve had a lot of fun reading Moon Knight every month. More fun than I can necessarily describe. I mean, fuck, I took the liberty to write about every issue of this comic, and I plan to do so on into the foreseeable future. Because this is my character, as lame as that sounds. Besides Greg Burgas, I’m probably the internet’s biggest Moon Knight fan, and I can’t tell you the time I’ve spent waiting for a legitimately good series starring the character. And now it’s here, and Bendis and Maleev are building a comfortable, best friend-type comic around the character. It looks great, the core’s there and I feel invested in the actual plot. I am a happy reader.

9. Spaceman – Brian Azzarello, Eduardo Risso, Patricia Mulvihill, Clem Robins, Dave Johnson

I only list each creator because this is one of the few comics in which collaboration actually fucking matters and produces the product you read. Whether Spaceman ends up as a compelling, mark-making science fiction yarn or a disappointing collection of pulp paper, one thing’s for sure – this comic houses the best team in comics. And not just Azz & Risso. No. Mulvihill, Robins, and Johnson too. It’s an entire squad producing this monthly adventure, and, God, it’s synced so well. While there’s only 2 issues out, Spaceman clearly has held more of my attention than all the rest of the mundane mush 2011 had to offer. Pay your dos. This is how mainstream comics should be made.

8. Zegas #1 – Michel Fiffe

Dammit if this isn’t one of the best looking comics this year. Fiffe creates slice of life parables and dresses them in peppery apocalyptic ash fires, elevating the impact of the story he’s after as well as providing his comic a declared visual identity. His cartooning is in league with King City scribe Brandon Graham, pulling influence from all kinds of line work – European and beyond. And, man, the color work. There’s this citrus Earth tone he’s goes for and completely nails to create this wonderful effect of twilight and swelling emotion. Zegas #1 reminds the reader of how impending doom can cause us to live and make the most of what we have. Fiffe captured my attention this year, and Zegas #1 is certainly a reason why. I can’t wait for a second issue, or simply anything he does next.

7. Daredevil – Mark Waid, Marcos Martin, Paolo Rivera

A very well crafted super hero comic which supplies the necessary drum beats and bass notes every thirty days. Why aren’t more mainstream comics like this? I don’t know. For some reason the formula of good creative talent and solid stories is impossible to nail down in the market we now know. But thank the higher up for Daredevil. It’s this sparkle of hope, I think. It’s this bright little bulb in the garage full of dust mites and broken glass. I can only hope it pushes onward to twenty issues. That is more than we deserve.

6. Uncanny X-force – Rick Remender, Jerome Opena, Esad Ribic, Dean White

And the Marvel streak continues. Another book like Daredevil in which I feel the goal of cape comics was really met: monthly satisfaction. But the one thing X-force had over Daredevil was its wonderful sense of threat and culmination. I’m not an X-men reader, but I couldn’t help but be swept away by Remender’s control of the subject matter and its history, combining all elements of X-men lore into this epic celebration of the property as well as reflecting on the idea of progression and our obsession with it. To me, this seemed to be the ultimate X-men comic book where everything came to a head. In terms of a super hero comic, I think it’s an instant classic like that of Morrison’s X-men, and I can’t help but say I’m proud to have experienced it on its monthly tour. Plus, it’s another book in which I actually gave a shit about the plot. I respect comics that can do that to me because 97% of them I read for other sad reasons. Also, it kept to the soap opera integrity X-men stories are known for – right down to the conclusion of the “Dark Angel Saga.”

5. Vengeance – Joe Casey and Nick Dragotta

If only all event comics read like this one. Joe Casey and Nick Dragotta’s hot middle finger to Fear Itself worked so well in the shadows of Marvel’s publishing plan that I’d call it one of the better punk rock comics I’ve read in some time. Each page makes a sham of the drawn out model of story telling we’ve come to cradle in mainstream comics, packing each and every issue with such detail that the singles themselves could be considered events. But what’s hot about Vengeance is its anger. This is Casey’s living example of how he wants super hero comics written. Where Butcher Baker sets the attitude and philosophy, Vengeance comes in to apply the theory, and that’s apparent from the very first page.  Vibrant, dense and capable of toying with all of the event conventions, Vengeance gave the reading populace what it wanted this year. Tight, meaningful hero comics, and most likely the people had no idea, missing it entirely.

4. Criminal: Last of the Innocent – Ed Brubaker, Sean Phillips, Val Staples, Dave Stewart

Just such a great story. That’s honestly all it comes down to with this one. A great story made from great construction. Fuck, Last of the Innocent all boiled down to that final page for me. Shit, the final panel. There was not one better image to sum up an idea. After a year and a half or so of bad/mediocre Brubaker comics, it felt good to read this. I missed Val Staples on the two final issues, but I feel Phillips and Brubaker pulled the work through and stuck the landing. This is a cold story. Cold, brutal and honest. It fits so well into Bru’s overall catalog. I’m proud to own this.

3. Butcher Baker, the Righteous Maker – Joe Casey and Mike Huddleston

This hot, synthy, peppermint green comic exuberates so much attitude and testosterone it burns your fingers when you pick it up. But that’s why I love it so. Butcher Baker was the war cry I followed all year. Between Huddleston’s beautiful illustrations and Casey’s madman text essays, BB does philosophy better than any comic book out there at the moment. It’s a fucking beast. Forget this quick quip your reading. Read the comic, or this essay I did on it months back.

2. Blast Furnace Funnies – Frank Santoro

A true poem in comic book form, Santoro sums up what a city or town can potentially mean. But that’s not the kicker. While emotionally packed as well as touching, what makes Blast Furnace Funnies special is its observation and meditation on process. Santoro comes off to me as a comic artist’s comic artist, and Blast Furnace is a testament to that. Originally apart of a museum exhibit in his hometown of Pittsburgh, Blast Furnace digs deep into how comics evolve from thought to a tangible mass of paper. Each panel within this thing tells a story because Santoro pays so much attention that each panel lives as its own independent painting. And the colors. They haunt yet warm you.  It’s a comic that as I now think about it I wish I gave more time to throughout the year, but I guess I can at least honor it somehow via this list. If anything, it’s one of the few things I read this year I know I’ll reread multiple times. It delivers a lasting impact.

1. Twisted Savage Dragon Funnies/ Savage Dragon – Erik Larsen, Michel Fiffe, various others

I think this earlier blog post spoiled the surprise, but whatever, this was a good year for Dragon readers. TSDF may make up most of the reason for a number 1 spot, but Larsen’s Dragon all by its lonesome would still easily rank somewhere on my top 10. Why? It’s comics. It’s larger than life, it’s issue-to-issue, it’s entertaining, it experiments, and it’s free, and even though it’s most always been those things, 2011 was the year Dragon juiced up a bit and showed the public what it could really do. I feel this was the year the book was somehow legitimized. It only had to plummet in sales to reach such a standard … But I believe bringing in Michel Fiffe and Co. helped as well because sharing the staples with Larsen’s comics were an assortment of art comic favorites. As my earlier essay states, TSDF embodies that ideal comic book, mashing super heroes with alternative story tellers to celebrate all of what the medium has to offer. I feel the project will only stand as an example for what’s possible in the future. Or if anything, it should because TSDF is the cue mainstream comics needs to take. I just love that the guy and book people enjoy so much to write off made the point and came away fueling the best comics of 2011. How’s that for justice?

My clock reads 2:28 am, yet for some reason I’m awake typing this review. My head hurts, and my body’s shouting at me with cold chills and lonesome aches. I feel some sort of illness charging my way, which of course “just figures.” Holiday break begins this weekend.

I’m compelled to tell you about Mudman #1, though. That’s sad, right? That I feel driven to tell you, the invisible reader, about this comic book? And it’s not even that good, which makes this activity even sadder. I should just get on with it, huh?

What’s funny about this new Paul Grist Image comic is that the book doesn’t even deliver what it states it will, which is a “story written for the comic book.” By now, most of you internet savy funny book fiends probably know of the open letter on the inside front cover of this printed item. I believe “news” blogs picked it up and gave it a few rounds. But, in case you’re unaware, here’s the gist of it …

“I’m not ‘Writing for the Trade’, I’m writing for the comic.”

Grist’s entire letter tells the infamous tale of how our comics and TV shows are now offered in narrative chunks. You know, the box set and the trade paper back… and Grist isn’t down with this. For him, these media are a means of serialized storytelling, so why experience the entire story at once? He then goes on to pledge his comic, this Mudman, will uphold the serialized mindset. That’s great. I completely agree with him.

Because I like comics. I like 20 page bundles, and I like staples. I like monthly installments. I like the idea of time adding to the narrative. Trades, to me, destroy all of that, and in some regard, like Grist notes, trades destroy the flow of comic book storytelling. I honestly kind of hate the fucking things. To me, you’re not getting everything when you read the story in a trade because time is not necessary involved to help supplement the tale. Instead, it’s all in your face. You’re not thinking as much as you should about it. Most likely, when you’re done, the story isn’t going to linger with you. Because you’re done with it, and it just becomes another book on a shelf where you house the rest of your shitty Fear Itself tie-in trades.

Which is itself a messed up situation … the fact that everything must now see a collection. No. Most of this shit deserves to rot in some box or backroom storage area. But whatever. Mudman.

So I agree with the intention, but Grist doesn’t translate that intention. Instead, Mudman reads like any other first issue you might see in the current landscape, except it’s little weaker. Script wise. Art wise, though, I’d say it’s a whole other story. I’ll offer a little praise first. I don’t want to be a complete asshole.

This comic looks like nothing else on the market right now. That’s safe to say. Style. Layouts. It’s pretty unique. What I appreciate the most is the abundance of white space left between the panels as well as in them. The book feels clean that way – clean and minty fresh. Which works very well when juxtaposed with the dark browns this mud-centric story implies. It also just bounces off of the majority of comics right now. So many of the big super hero titles resort to the muck coloring and “mature” stories in which Superman is a dick that this little comic suggests a breath of fresh air when you look at it. I can appreciate that just as I can appreciate the design aspect in each and every one of Grist’s pages. The panel placement suggests a sense of time invested in the creation, yet Grist’s expressionistic style offers up a quick cartooning look.

I think a lot of this comic, visually, is about emphasis. The book uses contrast to make specific elements stronger, and because of that I feel the comic keeps your eyes’ attention a little longer than most things.

But I was in ill-favor of this comic, wasn’t I? I should get back to that.

As Tim Callahan points out, intention is separate from what its actually on the page, and I agree with him, but I feel in this case intention is an element of the final product. For one, the intention is blatantly stated in the work, and two, the comic seems to be so much about offering an alternative that it cannot help but be connected to the statement of intention. I think Grist wants to do this comic because he wants to give people a monthly super hero story that is monthly as well as lighthearted, but he’s so much about that, that the comic really just seems to exist for the sake of an intention, or better yet, to be a public statement rather than to tell a story. So it’s with that I must hold the work up to the intention, and Grist doesn’t nail it.

The comic gets the lighthearted bit right, but it’s still written with an eventual trade paper back in mind. True, Grist has the notion of serialized narrative in mind, but this comic really leaves too much to be explained in future issues. There’s nothing here that’s solid or of its own. Instead, Mudman #1 sets up a lot of pieces without supplying anything concrete or satisfying for this monthly installment. The comic’s somewhat hypocritical.

But say we even remove intention from the argument and just focus on what is exactly on the page … Mudman still doesn’t really work. The plot is sown together in a disjointed fashion, going from numerous dream sequences to “real” world scenes. None of it flows together but rather makes you wonder what exactly is going on. There are even bits in the plot that don’t really work. For one example, our protagonist is at one point hit by a car – which is nonetheless driven by one of his teachers – but rather than being apologized to or taken care of, he is yelled at. That doesn’t make any sense.

But I’m not even sure if he was hit by a car because on the very next page the automobile is parked and its owner comes walking from the opposite direction, implying some weird sense that what we saw is not exactly so. Which is interesting for a mystery, but I’m not even sure if it is a mystery or just bad story telling.

The entire comic just makes for a disjointed read, and I was given very little in what is supposed to be a monthly installment to really say I received anything. That said, I’ll probably give issue 2 a shot because I’m still somewhat intrigued, but more importantly, Mudman looks really good. Can’t complain on that front.

I’ve been trying to write this post for the past four hours, but between the distractions of G.I. Joe trailers, skittles, cute girls and Patrice O’Neal stand up, I have yet to accomplish anything up until the very typing of this God awful sentence. Fuck it. Gotta start somewhere.

This sense of procrastination exists because  I feel the need to be negative and critical as I review this comic by Kat Roberts. Not that I found it awful – quite the opposite – but because I’ve been on a positive, everything-is-flowers streak lately. I’m sure someone reading is questioning my integrity as a “critic,” and I feel that in this day and age of “comics criticism” where everything receives automatic love, I need to expect more of what I read and push my own critical bar. Or that in order to prove my blog worthy I need to rip something to shreds and then take a massive shit on those shreds. Because that’s what critics do, right? They’re the ultimate judges. The Comics Journal as well as individual dudes I enjoy reading work that way.

But see, those voices do negative within reason, and they provide fair analysis by way of their intellect. For the most part, I don’t believe any TCJ writer rips into things without a sound purpose. Those guys are considered professional critics, so they know better. Although, when it comes to the super hero, genre stuff … I think they can lose some of the self discipline and spit unnecessary insults.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I became self-conscious of my critical voice today after a few days of suspicion. I give a shit about this blog, and I’d like to be recognized as a legitimate voice of some sort at some point, you know? I’ve been reading a lot of pieces by a lot of different sites and individuals lately, and while not everyone has impressed me, each one that I’ve read has been able to hold to a high standard or expectation. I then look at my own stuff and wonder how I could improve, and I’m just wondering whether or not I’m critical enough to be a legit critic. So coming to type this review I’ve been searching for a way to not absolutely high-five Kat Roberts and this comic. Just, you know, looking at it tougher and pushing my own way of thinking about it.

So what does this “writer talking about his own writing” intro have to do with Kat Roberts and her comic? Not a whole lot besides being the context in which I am forming this blog post. Oh, and because even though I’ve been on a positive streak it doesn’t mean I should just tear something apart for no reason other than to shit. Sure, it’s one thing to be critical and set a high bar, but in this instance of reviewing this particular comic the tough attitude doesn’t seem necessary. You Are Always on My Mind deserves a pat on the back, and even though I’m looking at it hard in order to issue a complaint, I really can’t find a whole lot. So, whatever. I guess I’ll save the negative for another time and get this review started. Thanks for hanging out throughout that first couple hundred words. Just writing out thoughts.

*by the way, none of that intro is a rip or complaint of negative reviews. I’m not trying to make a point against them. I literally mean what I typed. I’m uncertain of my critical credibility.

So, the comic. I should write about that and get past this self-conscious, oh poor me bullshit. The internet’s seen enough of that lately, anyway.

In case you don’t know anything about Kat Roberts, she’s a cartoonist and all around creative person residing in Brooklyn. She has this blog about DIY fashion, and she’s also published this series of web comics called “Fever Dream.” I believe she’s relativity new to comics, but guessing from her work I’d say she already knows how to contribute a solid effort.

You Are Always on My Mind weighs in at 12 pages but packs 4 well-crafted shorts that invite you in and let you explore the notions of embarrassment and self-conscious worry. Roberts uses dreams as the base for her brief narratives.  Some are even said to be real ones she’s had. But, real or not, these dreams paint quirky situations that lend themselves to some discomfort as well as a good laugh.

What makes these shorts so enjoyable though are their execution. In terms of shorts, every beat counts. We all know that, but Roberts makes that fact feel fresh again. I don’t feel like I’ve had that thought before when I read her comics because the way in which she sets up her stories and hits the punchline per say makes you smile and turn the page. The progression in the narrative and the visual cues feels mechanical, yet not so that it comes off as stiff or hollow. Instead, the flow feels rich and tight. Like a well-oiled machine or a drummer hitting a snare drum on cue.

Roberts isn’t shy about implementing creative signals to move her stories along. There are quite a few instances in this comic in which she applies clever, even cute, visual bits. My favorites have to be the two panels above. The warped speaker box just oozes those “thoomps”, and the little blocks depicting fingers in a countdown descend so nicely. Just interesting tidbits like that turn a normal progression of panels into something a little more colorful and personable.

There’s also this use of facial express in which she completely capstones a whole story via one panel, and it’s done so well that the beat is met and I, as the reader, laugh.

And, hell, this one panel manages to look cool, tell the story and echo back to Abbey Road in a rock ‘n’ roll centered story about crushin’ on Jim Morrison.

But I like the order of the 4 stories the most, believe it or not. Roberts opens her comic with the short “I Lost My Virginity to Jim Morrison,” which reads more like a traditional comic book narrative, and closes it out with a dialogue-less, more subtle short entitled “Dream in June.” Between the two, Roberts expresses a bit of a dark side with tales like “Nude Suit” and “Sin Eater.” What I take from this progression is that Roberts structured the content of this mini comic in order to pull you in so you can’t escape her more awkward points. There’s a feeling of “easing in” all throughout the book up until you hit the heavy stuff. You go from “Nude Suit,” which is slightly awkward yet still packs a laugh, to the almost haunting green pallet of “Sin Eater,” and I think it’s in “Sin Eater” that the core of the book conveys itself. Think of the idea of sins and sinning. That shit’s supposed to stick with you. They are the mistakes and missteps you’ve made. They are your faults. The things that remain on your mind. It’s in that tale that Roberts’ fictionalized self must face her wrongdoings, yet even then it’s done with a chuckle as the cartoon version of the author makes a disgusted face after her first gulp of sin worms.

But it’s that idea of shit you can’t escape Roberts is after, and by selling the point through dreams I’d say she does an affective job. I mean, dreams are theorized to tell us things about ourselves, correct? Or more so, if you can’t escape something even in your sleep, where are you supposed to go? Same thought process as A Nightmare on Elm Street, but instead I think You Are Always on My Mind speaks more to self-conscious judgements than not being able to completely protect your kids.

The comic strays away from being a complete awkward downer though by way of its finale “Dream in June.” It’s here Roberts suggests a positive outlook and a way to escape the nags and worries. A fitting end, if I may say.

So, that’s my review. I hope it worked in some regard. I’ll probably ponder its faults tomorrow.

This was how my weekend started.

AXE – that terrible body spray that supposedly gets you laid – drove into town and set up shop for one of those “One Night Only” concerts, and Girl Talk, the music mash-up extraordinaire, was listed to play.

Girl Talk’s one of those music favorites of the moment that I have mostly been ambivalent toward, but when AXE wanted to give my friends and I a bunch of free tickets and hold the show at a small venue like 123 Pleasant Street, I couldn’t deny. Why would you deny? A free show’s a free show, no matter who it is.

And it was fun. Between the toilet paper streamers, confetti, balloons, loud music and audience members storming the stage, Girl Talk and his crew knew how to throw a party. And that’s all that’s really needed at a show of this kind where, really, a DJ is the main act. Especially in a college town. One, big party can go a long way.

If anything, it was quite the event, and it felt good to attend something exclusive like that. Those tickets weren’t easy to come by, but I managed to get lucky as I sometimes do. As for why Girl Talk came to a town in West Virginia, well, he’s from Pittsburgh, which is only an hour drive from here. At the end of his set, the man grabbed the mic and pronounced that in his early days, before even his own home town showed him any love, it was here, in old Morgantown, West Virginia, that he found an audience.

That would explain it.

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photo by derek rudolph

Speaking of shows, Ty Segall will make an appearance in Morgantown soon. The show will take place on January 14th at 123 Pleasant Street, and U92-FM, the college station I’m involved with, is presenting it.

There’s a little article here if you care to learn more.

Along with Segall, my friends John Casey and Jami Calandros’ band “Best Friends” will provide the opening entertainment.

I am excited for this show. It should kick off the Spring Semester right.

–

It’s odd to think of the comic book industry without a Brian Michael Bendis’ Avengers book in it, but I guess should get used to the thought. Whatever dirty finger you may point at this book, the run is a landmark, and even with its slumps and inconsistencies, I still would list it as one of the more interesting and probably influential super hero comics of the last twenty years. In some ways, I’m happy to see it end – less money I can invest in Marvel – but I’m also a tad sad. My entire time as a comics reader has been marked by the presence of Bendis and his Avengers, so, in some ways, this feels like the end of an era. And I think it will seem that way for many people. Maybe than rather ending the world, 2012 will instead bring rapid change. All signs are pointing toward such. Occupy to Bendis’ Avengers.

The man writes another comic though, and telling from this piece on CBR I think Bendis is quite passionate about Moon Knight. Good. I am too.

I like these quotes from the article:

“I will say that I wish ‘Moon Knight’ was doing better. I know it’s a tough market, but literally every day someone tweets me or e-mails me about our ‘Daredevil’ run and how much they liked it. I whole heartedly encourage anyone who like our ‘Daredevil’ run to pick up ‘Moon Knight.’”

“This is exactly the kind of book no matter who’s writing or drawing it that needs a lot of support from people.”

He’s pretty open in those statements. Respect. If anything, the pleadyness of it tells me the guy wants this comic to keep going. He cares, and I don’t think it’s because it would mean less money.

Also noted, much of what Bendis says in that article I’ve said myself on this very blog. So, just saying, you should be reading my posts on the series. I’m tapped in.

—

Anthony Bourdain on WTF with Marc Maron. I really enjoyed this episode. The whole “rush and instant satisfaction” from working in a restaurant … I’ve been there.

—-

The Mindless Ones blog recently posted an article titled “The Theatre of The Direct Market.” For anyone at all aligned in comics and considers themselves on the “in” of the industry or whatever we call it, I suggest you take a read. It’s very interesting, and it provides a look at the direct market that cites an actual influence on content rather than just business models. Read it slow. Let it sink in. Big words about.

—–

Alright, I’m out. If you at all like or hate these “No Clever Title Needed” posts, give me your feedback in the comments. Please. I’m thinking of doing one of these a week as a manner to express quick thoughts and link cool shit. I normally would not worry about the audience’s feelings, but in this case, these posts are kind of entirely for the audience. I don’t write these for me, necessarily. I write them to share stuff with you as well as give you a bit of a peak into my actual life.

So, yeah, comment. Peace.

quote

“I hate this vigilante shit.”

- Detective Hall

“And yet it’s about the only thing that works.”

- Moon Knight

Confidence fills the tail end of this exchange, and its quite possibly ignorant. The ignorance seeps through later, though. For now, in this initial scene, Spector’s in the groove of his alter ego, riding the tail of last issue and the moves made in it. The guy’s feeling hot.

issue specifics

But I’d say this new found self esteem may have some ill roots as it seems Spector is placing a lot of faith in the vigilante concept. Or at least, that’s how Bendis writes him. I mean, the entire opening scene paints a picture of man packaged and sold to an ideal, and now he’s out preaching the good word, trying to convert the nonbelievers.

I just like that the nonbeliever is a cop, and Spector tells him straight to his face vigilantism “works.” It’s cocky, but somewhat justified because the character, as in Moon Knight, does supply the goods in the scene – as in a captured criminal and evidence. Hall can only be sent away with no option but to play along, and play along he does as a nice section of this issue revolves around his efforts to coerce his superior officer to investigate the LA Kingpin thing.

But what’s really going here is we’re seeing Spector grow more comfortable with the super hero thing, and in this scene he actually acts like a legitimate comic book super hero. Bendis does a solid job conveying the point by writing this opening scene very much like a Batman scene. You have the parking garage, the dichotomy, the crouching, the costume … this scene is something I would expect to see in a Batman book. So you have Moon Knight, who has been labeled “Marvel’s Batman” for years, literally standing in for the Dark Knight, but it makes so much sense. At least, to me it does. In my own personal interpretation of the character, Moon Knight is the ultimate wannabee super hero. I’ve noted that over and over in these posts. Rather than being “Marvel’s Batman,” I see it more appropriate to call him “Poor man’s Batman.” Well, after 7 issues of growing comfortable, Bendis puts the character in the shoes. And while it’s cool to see as a fan of the character – you know, him be legitimized – I know there’s another reason here. Marc Spector is so ready to fall into this super hero thing, and I think Bendis is setting him up to be obsessed – even more so than he has been.

Look at how easily he sells vigilantism. Look at how the character’s written in this scene. Spector’s clearly playing a part. He hits every beat. Surprise entrance. Suggested mystery to solve. A snappy one-liner as he makes the quick exit. That’s super hero 101, and Marc plays the part.

I think the character’s growing comfortable very fast and because of that he will soon make mistakes, but the larger picture here speaks to something we all go through. This is a story about a man finding who he is. The true self. We all take that journey at some point, but even after we figure out who we are, it’s not over. The next step is all about being you, and being a confident you, without overstepping boundaries and getting sloppy. That’s where Bendis has Spector at right now. He’s coming off the first arc and feeling good, but after this moment’s over, I bet shit hits the fan once again – actually, you kind of see so by the end of this very issue.

-

The immediate continuation of the Nefaria plot line surprised me. Being a Bendis book, I expected it to wade about for a while, but instead we’re right back in it. The choice makes sense, though.

If Marc is in a state of mind of total confidence and “playing the part,” it makes sense he’d get right to it. The dude’s eager. That’s why his subconscious/conscious/trio of colorful costumed dudes pressures him, in this issue, to put the mask back on. It’s himself telling himself, “hey, dude, I wanna play.” That eagerness will only hurt him, though. Whether it’s with the “professional job” or, as the ending alludes, Nefaria handing him his ass, the character’s moving too fast for his own good. Ties back to what I discussed before.

Of course, this could just be a sign the series is on its way out as Bendis abandons original plans in order to come right back to Nefaria and wrap things up. I mean, this book sells pretty poorly. I hope I’m wrong on that. Either way, though, I feel the choice in fast track narrative is a smart one.

And what about the Captain America, Wolverine, Spider-man head trip this issue? That whole thing just comes off like an over-possessive girlfriend.

“Spend more time with me! Fuck your job.”

We all know where that shit goes.

Although, the dramatic reaction to the trio’s appearance didn’t work for me. You know, when Marc’s with his secretary whatever and they appear. Shit stops cold for two panels. One panel plays up the whole red background thing. Why is it that dramatic? We’ve seen these personalities before. Something was lost in the translation there.

-

Art wise, I’d say this is the best looking issue yet. Maleev and Hollingsworth tear this comic apart. Whether the parking garage or the splash toward the end, it’s exciting to look at.

And, damn, that whole match throwing sequence was sweet.

…

As much as I did dig this issue, I honestly don’t have a ton to say on it. There’s interesting development with Spector, but it seems Bendis has the rest of the cast in a holding pattern. They’re written well enough to play the parts and move the plot, but I feel the other characters are missing the needed third dimensions. I’m glad Bendis is in Moon Knight’s head, but well, how much more can I write each month when it’s only Moon Knight’s head I’m placed in?

And then I wrote about #9 …

I don’t, however, wear Tapout shirts. I promise.

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Start your Monday right. Listen to this.

My dad hooked me on this track in the 4th grade. Jammed to it most of the weekend. Chad Nevett made the point on Twitter that he also digs it.

–

Speaking of Chad, the dude wrote a new blog piece titled “You Don’t Just Want to Break Me, You Want to Tear Me Apart” in which he discusses why he likes writing negative reviews. The comics internet is too uptight up about positivity. It’s cool to like and love comics, in my book, but Chad drives home the main point. The job of the critic is to tear shit apart. Team Comics needs to realize that. Read Chad’s post.

—

You can now blast the Trent Reznor, Karen O cover of “Immigrant Song.” The movie about tattooed girls will be out soon, and the soundtrack is up for pre-order. But, you don’t need to pre-order. Wired has six tracks streaming for free. If you want your own precious copy for the iPod, though, you can buy “Immigrant Song” for a buck on iTunes. I just did that. I also dig “Oraculum” a bit.

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Tucker Stone writes good shit. One of the more exciting voices on the comics internet. May I suggest some recent examples to prove it?

Woodshed: 11/28/11
The Comics Journal Thirty-Eight
Comics of the Weak: Just Saving Myself Til I Get Raped

You should read each of those, but if you’re short on time, make the first in the list the priority.

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If you’re a Savage Dragon reader, then you must follow this Twitter account.

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This would be the current controversy in my area of residence: fracking.

Noted as a method of natural gas drilling, fracking has had Morgantown, West Virginia up in arms over the past year. City Council’s all about banning that shit, but state government is cool with it. Jobs. Apparently. Anyway, the article talks about the process in terms of Pennsylvania and New York, but let it be known, this new power house industry even trickles down to my neck of the woods.

If anything, look at the eerie photos in the post. The one with the fighting/playing dogs kind of creeps me out for reasons I can’t explain.