By the time I post this even the newest stuff is plenty old (though most of the reviews were written even months before (but maybe not years). It'll be even older when I post it somewhere else, to sit for even longer (assuming the Internet keeps it (and is there to keep it)). So it's a landmark of time already passed. But it's already aged when it gets to you anyway, so it's just as well.
A few months ago I made some changes in my life. It wasn't just for turning 50 (just another birthday), but especially since I wasn't working and I wasn't getting as much done as I wanted with my days (in theory) being free, I tightened my schedule, going as far as waking up as if I were working, around 8am (artists work late, yo), and also, more shockingly, going to bed before 1am (though that often became before 2am). It actually worked. I don't know how much more I got done (though maybe, though I added more tasks for finding a job), but the structure gave me momentum to get and keep going. Not long after that I changed up some of the content of my days, including throwing out rotating my daily listening of albums, from an order I've been keeping for over 30 years (when I first got CDs and began rotating what I listened to), and such a fundamental change that it changed pretty much everything I listen to every day, as well as freed up the time I used to keeping that order list (often once a month but it would be at least a whole day to organize all my listening (and that was down from four hours or so once a week)). Now I'm listening to a lot of streaming radio, then terrestrial radio in the car, and some emphasis on audiobooks I want to get through, and the eternal list of articles on Pocket for text-to-speech. It's been fine so far, and the radio has allowed me to check out a lot of stuff that I wouldn't always find, often new, and not stress about updating my rotation list. Though I kept the list and if my life opens up to spending time with that organization (very zen to do it), maybe I would start it again (though life, at least mine, is about forward progress, so if this is working at least as well, I'll probably keep going with the new evolution).
What I'm Listening To When I'm... (Update):
...Sitting at the main computer (at home, working or otherwise): One of about 16 Soma.fm stations with words, chosen randomly (with the Spin The Wheel app), music ranging from extreme death metal to bluegrass/roots to pop indie to tiki/lounge (which seems to come up a lot). I put one on and let it play. Most rarely repeat the same tunes (which is the biggest poison to me for anything else).
...Driving to on-site work (local, less than 10 minutes)/to the gym/around town: KCSN 88.5, The SoCal Sound (local radio) (though it's mostly what could be considered adult-alt, and not always much particular to Southern California. Music good enough to keep it going even though the reception can be bad (especially when going through intersections).
...Driving to on-site work (an hour or more): The current audiobook, from an iPod (so it doesn't interfere with the nav on my phone). Even trudging through SoCal traffic, it's become one of my favorite parts of the day.
...Driving from on-site work: A repurposed iPod with my 1,000 songs (from the ongoing project) on shuffle.
...Working, doing roto (a fairly automatic task): Articles saved to Pocket, ideally listening with @Voice text-to-speech (when it works, and it hasn't since this latest gig) but lately going with the Listen function within Pocket (though that's a wrestle too since it won't (easily) play tagged articles I've sorted, so the playlist is random, and newer than I want so as to finish stuff I've had saved the longest).
...Working, doing anything but roto (requiring more attention and brainpower): Probably the Soma station, assuming I've picked one for the day.
...Working on the weekend (including doing roto): Audiobooks over articles. (But articles when driving in.)
...Lunch, at home or on-site (while editing/posting, some lite writing): One of about 22 Soma.fm stations without words, chosen randomly (same procedure as above). It's probably a range, but most of it is electronic so it all sounds very similar to me (except Doomed has some songs with words), but ambient enough that it's comforting but not distracting.
...Lunch at home on Fridays, while sorting and reading articles in Hotmail, then beyond for the rest of the late afternoon into evening: New albums on Spotify (at least three), then starting at a random place in the playlist.
...Driving back after dropping off kid (1 1/2 hour drive): Current audiobook.
...Driving to pick up kid (during the day, usually more than 1 1/2 hours): Pocket articles.
...Getting eBay packages ready to send: Whatever I was already listening to (now often on Fridays so it's usually Spotify, but it could also be Pandora on shuffle, though that seems to stick to the same bands (usually The Cure and LCD) so I don't know how random it is, though it's supposed to be).
...Making dinner: Flood FM on TuneIn, using Alexa, on volume 4 (since the wife is working with headphones on). Alexa stop.
...Eating dinner: Flood FM, volume 3.
...Doing dishes/cleaning kitchen: Flood FM, volume 4.
...Into the evening (weekday): Continuing with Flood FM, volume 3. If we've already heard the guest DJ (starting at 10, for one week), it's KCRW 24 instead.
...Doing tasks (mostly making dinner) on Friday evening: Pandora, volume 5 if no one is home (or she's in the shower). Then the next time I'm on the laptop computer I'll delete the first artist it played last time, then add them again, so Pandora doesn't get in a rut of playing the same stuff, if it goes by the order I have them listed.
...Giving platelets at the blood bank: Audiobook, on Libby (was easy to change over from Overdrive) or Audible (using wife's account) on phone or from iPod (filled with audiobooks, particularly Vachss and Palahniuk novels, ripped from audio discs from the library, which might become a different thing if I don't keep going with them).
...On the weekend: Probably KEXP, for any task or for whomever is home. It's not usually much, but when it is it's often on Sunday night, when there's a soul show on. Unless they're having a pledge drive, so since I hate hearing them beg for money (and I already give) it's often a frenzy to come up with another one (that I'm not listening to elsewhere, just to keep it fresh). KXLU (in Riverside, usually local) seems to only play mariachi music (which is fine but not what I'm looking for) and The Current (in Minneapolis, where I used to get a daily download from) seems to run dead air when I call it up. I could be open to radio station suggestions (non-commercial, of course).
...On the weekend, doing personal tasks on headphones: Pandora, maybe.
...Doing miscellaneous tasks on the weekend if wife is present, especially while going through Hotmail and playing Forge of Empires (but mostly waiting to leave): Maybe Soma.fm if I haven't picked a station for the day. Or maybe radio.
...Cleaning the house (especially the bathroom): Probably the 1,000 Songs iPod. (Could also be an audiobook but I usually want to give that more attention.)
...Taking a phone call: Low in the background, maybe KEXP, depending on the day or time. It hasn't happened in a while.
...After wife has gone to bed, writing: It's been a while for that, too. Maybe KCRW.
...Reading (comics), on the couch, before bed: The iPod Touch with the songs of the day from KCRW, KEXP & The Current. I'm just finishing up that one -- listening once to each song I haven't already heard -- then I'll retire it (though I don't know how much use it will be since the headphone jack only has one channel. I have to listen to it using a small, unreliable boom box with an adapter and it doesn't fit in the bedroom). That one's taking a while since I haven't been reading much before bed, and it's a lot of tunes.
...Reading, in bed, before bed: KCRW 24, from my phone.
...In bed, sick: KCRW 24 (since I was that a few times recently).
...Having guests over: Let them pick the Soma.fm station (though it will default to Underground 80s or Left Coast 70s if they don't). Also hasn't happened in a while so I'm not sure until anyone comes over again. Maybe just leave it at KEXP. Though Flood plays '80s/'90s-alt (with a lot of Björk).
...At the gym: Whatever is on. It's not my class so they can play what they want. I don't always hate what they play, but it usually doesn't bug me (unless I start to associate with something we're doing that I hate), but most of it works for the class routine.
...At the gym, on the treadmill: Pocket articles (since I'm probably taking it really easy and basically just walking).
...Going for a walk (around an hour, maybe longer, usually on Friday): Pocket articles, sometimes a list of the longer ones (over two minutes each). If I haven't listened to an audiobook in a while and it's the weekend, it might be that.
...In bed after waking up, preparing for the day: I'm still on my phone but I'm usually getting going so I don't bother with music.
And because of that change, and going to bed early (then even earlier when I got a job (though the schedule was originally planned to accommodate that eventuality so there wasn't too big a change when I was working again)), I had to drop the late-night TV. I could live without it, though once a week I like to catch up on "A Closer Look" on YouTube (then his "Corrections" (basically "ACL" inside jokes) is almost as fun, if I have the time for it).
REVIEWS
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I never got assigned this in school so I never had to fake reading it, but it was one of those books that seemed like everyone else had to read it, and The Kid eventually got it, which gave me occasion to finally visit it. Maybe it’s one of those books that can evoke a different time and place for students who can stick with it, since it doesn’t offer much more in the way of lessons than any other book. Maybe it’s to show how to spend more than a third of a book setting up a place before anything happens, and even then, while the event is tragic, is immediate only for a small group of characters, but distant for as little as becomes known of them (filtered through a narrator whose main attribute is that he’s far enough away to see them but not near enough to offer the noise of useless facts about them). Maybe something that should be stimulating seeing the lives of the idle rich, only familiar in a modern sense since they party in much the same way (though with more alcohol -- a harder way to party -- but fewer drugs than anyone got until after WWII), which could almost be impressive until it’s realized it was 100 years ago, which is a very long time no matter how tony they’re said to be. Class struggle might be its most notable theme, though as told from the inside of the advantaged, it would seem too much like punching down, if there’s any bothering to punch at all. Then maybe making something of other themes it dives through, but more for quantity rather than getting into them for quality. It’s also a brisk read, with enough that a deft student could skip over wide swaths of meaningless description of cold opulence and old-timey staples of wealth like they were chapters on whaling, but it’s also a light story when it’s not leveled by the tragedy that happens far too late to make a truer impact. Still, beautifully written and a lasting masterpiece for what it is, even if it’s increasingly more flat as time goes on and we -- and the kids -- get away from a fantasy of partying grandly (and tragically). I can get into this more properly later on if I have to teach it (though there's plenty more I'd rather do), so for now this can be an introduction (though I didn't intend a shallow reading).
The Saga of the Swamp Thing (DC). I’d never read Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing until now. Or any Swamp Thing stories, really (except some in anthologies, and most of those very recently). The character never did anything for me, and the one time I read a Swamp Thing issue it went so far over my head that at least subconsciously I gave up anything else about the character for as long as I felt like it (which can be a very long time). Of course I've read plenty of Moore’s other stuff, generally as much as I could get my hands on (even the bad stories), and there was a time when I would get anything with the Vertigo stamp -- all but Swamp Thing. It was my blind spot, even if it had helped get that whole ball rolling (or at least got the bigger ball ahead of it rolling, if that was The Sandman). Or maybe I was just leaving it as a monument I could always look forward to. I had some of the books -- two trades that I was selling on eBay, and I found suddenly when I was considering reading them that there were plenty more than that. (Those stories could have built their legend on few issues -- how many pages was Goodwin & Simonson’s Manhunter?) Asking to borrow the trades from Texas became having my own set sent to me (which I now have to sell on eBay), but I could finally read them all and figure out if almost 40 years of hype was worth it.
The legend of those issues didn’t come from nowhere. They were certainly a big deal at the time -- nothing needed to build its notoriety over time since it was pretty immediate -- and enough to set the character for pretty much their whole existence (since surely no other story could approach the heights of those issues, or the Wrightson masterpieces that came before). Moore could have been set on this alone for a while until Watchmen (which overlapped this in the late ‘80s), then that put him well over, but there are some elements from his Swamp Thing run that are monumental on their own, and even work as a pointed precursor to the majesty that Watchmen became. “The Anatomy Lesson” might have been that issue that went over my head years before, and even still it works best only as a clearing house of what came before and a set-up to put Swamp Thing and his accessories in the proper place for the much greater things to come. On its own it's fairly workaday, but whatever was revolutionary with that story has since been paved into the language of comics so it’s hard to get the perspective on what it was, except that it finally made proper sense to me as an adult and worked as an introduction for the rest. From there Moore went all over the place, digging as deeply into horror as comics could, with a finesse that had mostly been hidden from the medium until a foreign writer could force his British sensibilities into the very American form of comic books, and force them to work for him. Moore is generally regarded as the greatest comics writer ever (where is the challenge for that?) but his craft and elegance in writing is often overlooked in how he treats a narrative and characters; that he can be so goddamned wordy and have it flow is a testament to his astounding ability, as well as a call-out to all the bad lessons that were learned from lesser writers after him (which, fairly, is pretty much all of them, but there were plenty who were particularly awful from it), overwriting and wallowing in the purple prose that built Vertigo comics more than Sandman did (even Gaiman was guilty of it, but he did better than most). Moore could corral a story, but he also didn’t have as many precedents that leaned on him to write like the grand-daddy of the sub-genre, and he wasn’t ever going to copy Stan Lee. Nearly everything from that Swamp Thing is ingrained in comics deeply now, but it’s good to experience where it came from, since there’s plenty of magic still left in those pages (unless Moore used it all up in whatever deal he made).
It’s a shame that the art likely would have been disregarded if not for Moore taking the whole project to its great heights in the narrative. Bissette & Totleben (both American, if you didn't know) could have been just journeymen artists that would have been disregarded in a comic with a character no one cared about and as a team that would have been ignored after the legendary Wrightson left. What they did was amazing on its own, but far too much for trash newsstand publications and anything that didn’t boast a serviceable story to shape the visual representation. Both functions are symbiotic, and the abstract constructions of each match the other, but the writing took off so far that the art couldn’t follow. Sadly, the art could have been a tenth as good and the comic still probably would have worked (n the The Sandman fashion). It’s a shame the team couldn’t get more recognition since they broke plenty of their own ground -- weird and creepy but luxurious and unlike anything that had been in mainstream comics up to that point, like the writing -- but the art was too flat -- literally -- to reach the same depths. Though it’s one of the few times that art from a comic could actually be called textured. Unfortunately, the art isn’t helped in a faithful reproduction with color that is so dimensionless that it only reminds of the trash nature of comics from then and how they were churned out assuming no one would or could appreciate anything other than the basest of expression, and those choppy, flat plates squash any depth the art could have to aspire to anything higher, dragging it back down to being a book for 50 cents that would be thrown away. This was certainly the regular thing at the time and no one thought anything about it, much less moved to change it, and it’s striking to see how it would turn around in the next ten years (including not cutting out those color plates and allowing the color to have any kind of depth). There’s some progression by the end of the run, but those initial issues are hard to look at and get a sense of what that could have been. (Though now that I’m aware of it to look for, maybe -- hopefully -- there are some black & white reproductions of the originals somewhere out there.) The art team stays fairly consistent until Alcala starts inking progressively more, and Veitch comes in to fill in but feels like pushing out Bissette, which is too bad since Bissette’s efforts could have kept working for whatever he did, even if it was lesser, just to hang on to the story. Maybe it was about egos, and you can’t expect a team with that chemistry to last forever, but it was also a pretty great run on its own.
The extended soap opera that ongoing comics eventually become is the least of the elements that make it up. The creature & Abby’s relationship is so telegraphed from the beginning and in every panel that it’s almost comical that they ever tried to pass off her marriage as believable or it was another thing that Moore had to clean up and eventually got some kind of arc from it, but mostly it’s the lead for that sex-as-eating issue (which never seemed conceivable when I ever read a description of it anywhere else, and even still only barely gets away with it), but for being a romantic/sexual relationship with any kind of emotional obstacles it has more depth than most any other in comics. At its base, even deeper than the horror then sci-fi that it becomes, it's a love story, which is compelling for its rarity in comics as well as the clever ways in which the sexual act can be euphemized (including a close-up entendre for a blowjob that is so blatant that it’s a surprise anyone has allowed it to be printed. Moore didn't get the Watchmen rights, but he got away with that one).
The “American Gothic” story, also legendary, was a disappointment, in not being a far-reaching epic but barely its own volume. It’s a bunch of short stories that are hardly connected, though each sturdy on its own but also leaving few consequences once they move on besides the introduction of John Constantine. It could have been a trick on Moore’s part to introduce such an ordinary character in a universe of superheroes, though it’s typical for British writers to throw in as many characters as a story needs with little thought of how those might continue after the story in question, while it’s the American fashion to squeeze every single character that ever appeared in any comic for all they could ever be worth (then after being tucked away for a while to be pulled out by the next generation to see if they can work again). But then, Constantine was an electrifying anti-hero in what could be a world filled with superheroes, and at least it was a show that not all characters that could work in comics needed a costume. It’s also a minor thrill to see him in his original form aping Sting, since they would try to scuttle that before long. It’s also with those two together that they went through their “Crisis” tie-in issues, and turn out the best from that entire crossover. It’s shocking enough to see Moore merrily playing along with DC’s grand (and sometimes greedy) plan, like a good laborer, and it could even be a better story if he pulled off such a great story out of snideness for having to be part of it, but it’s a thrill on its own to see him towing the line and making a secret screed of explaining the whole mess better than the entire maxi-series did. Moore did plenty more short stories for DC (another trade I might have sold too soon), and they were largely brilliant, but to see him take control over pretty much the entire universe is a singular delight, and a wonder what he could have done with more power, but probably a good idea it didn’t happen seeing what went down later (talking about egos). Moore even rolls on with that story, spinning out the relatively minor conflict from those “Crisis” issues into his own crises regarding hell and the nether-regions of the horror landscape, and making his own epic to rival the Crisis on Infinite Earths (but with fewer costumes and considerably more, and more believable, evil). The individual arcs stand on their own, but there’s a certain height reached in those “Crisis” issues in relating to the wider DC universe and fitting into that cosmology that shows the range of the Swamp Thing and John Constantine beyond just horror trappings, and is probably an undervalued masterpiece jostling for position among other stories that didn’t age quite as well or ones that undeservedly got more recognition.
The last volume is a high point on its own. It’s probably regarded as the least of the books in the run, with fewer classic stories cited elsewhere, and yet it’s where a lot of brilliance peeks in and shines as brightly as other places for how much it’s suppressed. It’s no secret that Moore was working on Watchmen at the same time, and if he had to pick one (and he probably did) he went with the one he had more control over, or at least the one he had further to say on rather than the one he had already exhausted to an extent. Moore never seemed stingy about letting anyone do fill-ins, even for writing, though it was also part of his trusted team, and he probably didn’t have much choice (at least when overseen by a powerful and capable editor in Berger). The book itself also takes a hard turn into sci-fi from horror, which would seem like it would still keep a lot of elements from the latter but it’s pretty much all-in on the former, and plenty weird for the transplanting of everything from before, when it shouldn't work then does (mostly), and when it does work it's near brilliant, as good as much of the rest. Such is Moore’s versatility, as well as in crafting character rounded enough to handle so many genres. He couldn’t be blamed for having said as much about horror as he wanted to at the time (though he could and would approach it from other angles later on). It also gets strange, which is saying something, for as far as it went before then (and, for some parts, still hasn’t gone). It gets experimental and doesn’t always succeed but it’s inspiring that they got to try, and when an attempt lands it’s spectacular. The Planet Grass” is a quiet classic, and beginning for Veitch to work his art into puzzles, finally bringing a depth that he couldn't get from drafting or visually crafting characters. He can tell a story -- better for being someone else’s -- but his art is forever waiting for anything to happen and inert until then, which is most of it, and sometimes all of it. At least Moore gave him somewhere to go, and foreshadows the minor wonders they would eventually get to with ABC’s Greyshirt stories (which was good enough that it could accept being all the Spirit stories that hadn’t been done yet). His writing fill-in issue also brings in the New Gods, and not even all the best of them, which could almost be enough, but what that is, and by him, actually makes it work enough, especially among the crazy patchwork of those last issues in the run. It’s a long journey but it’s a wider epic than “American Gothic”, like a do-over on a cosmic scale when the first try didn’t go as far as it should have (even if it was regarded to have done, though the later one wins for more intensity through greater stakes and more chances taken). Of course it all wraps up with a reunion (literally called) and an obtuse story, but by then Moore had been spent and it probably wasn’t even expected that he needed to turn in more than it ended up being. Swamp Thing was about to be tromped by the spectacle that would be the completion of Watchmen and that series announcing itself as a whole, solid epic even grander in scale and execution. And Moore left a run of stories that could be collected handsomely and evenly into six volumes (and not the omnibus that’s out there if you want such an ugly, unwieldy door-stopper).
Also benefiting from the absence of ads from the original comics that progressively get more embarrassing, but also with wordy introductions that reveal some behind-the-scenes info (including, again, Moore getting along with his collaborators), but not enough extra art. Also no explanation why the Swamp Thing -- a creature made from components of the swamp, often referred to as a vegetable, later revealed to have not transcended from a human after all -- would not only have a need for or representation of fingernails or teeth, but also those teeth being pearly white (unless it was all just to seem human enough to get Abby to blow him).
Winterworld (IDW). I haven’t had much to do with IDW since I don’t need a lot of licensed books or 30 Days of Night, but I can respect any publisher putting out old, obscure works by good and forgotten creators. I can even sometimes pay for a book that might not carry as much value as it should, but it could also be a relic from before certain habits were calcified and a lasting potential could be inferred. In this case it was an early book by Chuck Dixon, who has always been one of the best action writers in comics, not even needing traditional superheroes but might as well, but who also seemed to define then perfect the method of decompression that ran rampant in too many mainstream comics some years ago (when he was writing a lot of titles, since he could spread out stories enough to catch a lot of assignments). It could be said that he followed the same aspects of Jeph Loeb, of letting the artist push most of the story and he was just there to start some ideas then dialogue when the artist has done a lot of the work. Though Dixon’s stories weren’t always art showcases, his artists were more workday horses who were relied on to push out monthly books, and his stories were less splash-page spectaculars and flowed over multiple parts, they just always dragged so the artists had as much room as they wanted (maybe too much, if drawing a more compact issue would get them through series faster and get more exposure doing a broader range of stories); he would routinely take three issues to tell a story that could have been done in one, so a multi-part story could always be expected to have been overly separated, which decreases the value when it could almost always be far fewer issues. Maybe it reads better in a trade with the cost up-front (but would also read quickly). And yet, he could do rough if not violent crime-fiction that could be lifted into a Batman story as well as anyone, and Alien Legion (where we started with him) hadn't held as much promise without him. He was always a favored writer even if I knew I was getting too many issues by him. So over the years after over-paying too much for his stuff, a new book wasn’t appealing, but reevaluating a classic for the artist, even working in black & white, was an enticing proposition when I was looking for a random book to buy. I only knew Jorge Zaffino for the Punisher book he did for Marvel and it just looked sketchy and grimy to me at the time (though it had my interest for a moment, surely for being on a Punisher book). Sadly there wasn’t much more by him mainstream enough to get to me after that but his name stuck and his legend carried. And here was a book that I might have bought on Dixon’s name alone, and an indie adventure story without superheroes, so it was as good as anything, and somehow it made it to my bookshelf then through the cracks to appear before me to read. It’s actually an encouraging confluence of elements: a now-classic artist somewhere near the height of his powers who didn’t get much popularity in the U.S. except from admiration by those who knew, together with a good writer who hadn’t yet learned how to stretch out a story for more money at less effort -- the former wizened, the latter new enough to be too rough to be too refined. It’s a light story, basically a loner in a frozen post-apocalyptic tableau. All the tropes are there, well-worn after a third of a century, but the narrowness of the focus can bring out more character (mostly one of two). It also feels like Zaffino having the reins with the story, when Dixon’s words don’t always fit, so he gets in some lovely landscapes and gritty character work. It's still plenty sketchy and grimy but it contrasts with the negative space that Zaffino manipulates as a master. Even if all the characters wear the same scowling grimace (always his trademark flair), it’s a lot of action, an elegance in the violence, and some great designs to convey the desolation of the environment and its era. What he could do with a few spots of white paint on a busy, over-inked page is a spectacle that few have matched in the decades since. It gets intense but never out of bounds, a display of restraint as extraordinary as bounding the careful severity the artist brought to the work. If his mainstream work was so rare, that Punisher book probably deserves a(nother) look (if only to realize how much the sketch and grime added to it). Sadly there’s nothing more than a modest trade by the two, beefed up by a few old pin-ups, before Dixon started it up again with other artists. He can't be faulted by keeping it going if there was something still there, and they could be stellar artists right for the work, but I'm not sure I can bring my interest to a concept that I tie so closely to Zaffino. But this book on its own can stand as an artifact of a brief intersection between two solid creators when they could exploit a rich period of their abilities. And as that, a pretty good value.
Atari Force (DC). Comics don’t ever need to do well with licensed properties, but sometimes there’s no reason not to. Also going into a licensed property without anything established like characters can be a lot of artistic freedom, but it could also lead to a disaster without a vision to add anything to it. Such that DC had the license for a video game system in general, but not even in-game characters to do anything with (such were the days of the 2600, where the whole thing stopped existing once you turned it off). A story based off whatever that was could have been a lot of fun at the same time it could have been a catastrophe. Video games were young enough at the time so there was no precedent set (though it never looked like there was any reason to do anything more with the game properties), but monumental enough in the culture that anyone who could license anything might want a piece of it. And comics might as well be it. Atari had already done a few mini-comics to include in their games, to give the nascent properties a depth the game couldn't, so giving them over to a comics publisher was an easy step in a longer play, even though there was some problem with re-reprinting those originals, which would have been the easiest thing for DC to do (as well as should have been included in the contract; also mentioned by at least one fan in every letter column), inferring some kind of licensee/client friction that might have come into play later. Call it an experiment at worst, but a hit could be as big as anything else (except Batman, since nothing is ever as big as Batman, but he also didn't his own Atari game). They at least put some of their better people on it, Conway and Thomas, flying high off their successes in the early ‘80s, and could burn a promising young artist -- a platform for a budding artist or a reason to let them go -- but who turned out to be García-López, soon to be a legend (and who didn't offer an abundance of interior work before he moved his art to equally legendary character bibles), and became the most compelling force of this series. The book isn't bad, but there’s not much in it for being so overwritten (usually a Thomas trademark, inferring how much he still had to do it even though he was only credited as a co-plotter). Conway was probably an MOR writer, nothing extraordinary but good enough to get the books out on time and not ruin any properties for the future. The characters are generally archetypes, but a lot of it plays out as a Star Wars swipe, as any science-fiction had to be in the wake of that cultural dominance, but also wanting to purposely avoid being just like it, to establish itself on its own, yet still not able to avoid falling into what became so similar to Star Wars for following the same tropes (also what happened with New Gods and countless others). It’s just more obvious for coming a few years after The Empire Strikes Back -- when Star Wars had somehow gotten even more monstrous -- and when video games connected to the future and space, marking a golden age for space opera. Luckily the series is more sci-fi than superheroes, so it could have worked on that level, even if most of the story is just being trapped in space, while trying to will itself to be an interstellar romp. But the star of the show is Garcia Lopez, who easily made the series with art far beyond his amateur status, and what would be his trademark draftsmanship aching to break through the narrow panel descriptions he was left with. The character designs are reminiscent of the busy costumeship that Pérez was making into a trend, though far too cluttered for the characters to go beyond this (though featured in Who’s Who entries, reminding that I must have dismissed anything to do with the series back then because I studied those comics and still missed them). This was also overlapping with the beginning of Crisis, as mentioned in Giordano’s “Meanwhile…” columns (a nice treat for getting the individual issues (and a sole argument against digital versions of the comics, though that would be a pipe dream in the first place, knowing the rights issues to be able to do those would be a tangled mess, as well as for being as old as they are. If they haven’t done them by now then we can probably give up hope)), but not being included in the event, for some wise foresight to keep them separate (if they'd let licensed properties in anyway). The fact that the series ended so suddenly is an inference to the friction becoming too much or an unforgiving license running out. But it’s a minor shame that the series couldn’t keep going on, since it didn’t get worse when Baron took over the second half, which must have been the first series he did after coming over from the minors to DC, for as much a big deal as they made of it in the back-matter of the issues, and was maybe even setting up to take off beyond that (once it reached a climax that worked too well to be able to cut off and make an ending). Garcia-Lopez was already gone by then (despite an assurance for his eventual return in the letter column), but they had nabbed Barreto for his early work, doing a Garcia-Lopez swipe but far less dynamic (less in a DC house style, but keeping the same inker gave it some consistency (needless, as it turned out when the book could have gotten more adventurous artistically post-GL)). Though those stories were shorter, with back-up stories that seemed all the rage at DC at the time (though in this case featuring work by Giffen (a great fit, and surely would have come back later), Rogers, Janson, and an artist named Mike Chen whose work should have gone far enough to remind us of his name now). In all not a bad book, only trapped by the sci-fi cliches it wanted to outrun. (And good enough to be included in that Top 10 of 1984 ad that DC ran (from Amazing Heroes), which included AF as #8, but seemed more intent to show that it had four books that were among the best of the year (including Blue Devil, which makes it a dubious list at best), but most especially showing the prominence of Swamp Thing, that was king of the (artistic) heap at the time (but apparently not with popularity to match its acclaim, if it needed the ad). (And to find that list was written by R.A. Jones. I had the Scimitar book he wrote. There’s no reason that guy should have been criticizing comics.) And as good as it was or could have been, it couldn't have gone on much longer anyway. Though the video game craze kept going (and might never have stopped), the sales of the book (almost always disappointing) might not have made it worth continuing, though they might have continued their luck finding nascent artists to turn into big and/or reliable names (the mark of a good editor, in this case Helfer, doing early work, and turning the gig into writing, which he would do more of, even copping his own gig in this series, though he didn’t need much more than he earned turning around Justice League not long after). Worth collecting as a novelty of connecting a property to another medium, or for early García-López (and interior) work, which is enough to want them to collect this in an omnibus, but also to be disappointing when they haven't.
Batman ‘66: The Lost Episode (DC). They resurrected the tone and style of the Adam West Batman show to do stories like that again in comics, but I haven’t bothered with it. I’ve always had a love for that show from when I was a kid (old reruns even at that time) and I probably always will, though I haven’t watched it since the other side of my lifetime and I’d be concerned for how it’s aged, especially for what I’ve gotten out of Batman and his world since (which is mostly darkness and violence, the opposites of anything in that show). But this was an obligation purchase from a shop where I was perusing the weekly comics and it would be self-contained enough to polish off in a sitting, or so I thought. It features what could have been the Batman episode with Two-Face, which would have made sense, and I wondered as a kid how he was never in the show, knowing enough about Batman to know that Two-Face was a major villain, just behind the quartet who were featured in the movie, but then got to be old enough to realize that such a face as monstrous as intended -- even half of one -- would have been far too much for the kids watching that show after school back then (though I probably would have been able to handle it). So maybe there was something in me that wanted to see how that might have turned out. That it was written by Harlan Ellison meant little to me (as I’ve never been familiar with him for more than his name), but he could have made it as good as anything. As it turns out, the style doesn’t translate so well into the comics, since it’s an adaptation of a TV show that was an adaptation of a version of Batman from decades ago (and not a great one), so it’s a copy of a copy or a copy at best, and the campiness that worked well in the show (more as an easy entertainment than a true adaptation of what the character was at any point before or after they snagged the doofiest version) doesn’t come in as well twice-baked. It doesn’t recapture the energy that was within a cathode ray, but it can energize the wonder of what further episodes could have been, especially with a great villain that never appeared. As a Batman or Two-Face story it’s aggressively mediocre, best as an introduction to Two-Face but not adding much to him, especially when the resolution of the story is overdone by half (which might have been a mark of the show). If this was the only story from the Batman ‘66 world it would be underdone and a misfire, but as one of a crop they’ve published among others it’s just forgettable. Even the art by Garcia-Lopez (a reason to get any book) is underwhelming, as he isn’t given the space to take his astounding drafting skills to the fore, and instead turns in a pedestrian story that could have been drawn by any other artist (though not a recent one, letting his art give it a throw-back look, but not too far back to bite the style of the ‘60s. I believe they started this whole thing with Allred and that was the best choice by far). A $10 price-tag is also a bit to ask for a traditional 22-page comic, even with a stiff cover, and the thrown-in original pencils reveal little (except that the inks didn't need to do much) and that Ellison was overly conversational in his written treatments. If it were the same cover price as a comparable, standard comic it might be a fun experiment, but as a special edition it doesn’t have much to make it too special, even as a glimpse into an alternate reality from a beloved piece of childhood from over half a century ago.
The Life Story of the Flash (DC). Despite what we may assume, hardcovers don’t always indicate it’s special material. More often than not it’s something that might be a little more challenging than a regular book or something a little more niche so its expected audience will have to pony up a little more so it can make a profit (or not lose as much). But it can't hurt to have a creator from whose name one could assure it’s a decent story. A hardcover about the Flash’s origin (but not his entire existence since that hasn't been written yet) might be unnecessary, but Waid writing it gives it some kind of prestige if it was ever going to get it. The Flash is one of the big heroes, and recognizable to the general populace, but doesn’t need to have his origin reconceptualized like Superman or Batman, as if there’s some hidden nuance to expose, or something to freshen for a new audience, or telling/selling the same story yet again. Though the Flash had a complicated history from the beginning, whether it was Barry or Wally, even worse when they monkeyed with it later on, though not as bad as they did after this (then post-Waid). A few Who’s Who entries would be enough to make sense of it, if it even needed that in the first place, if only to put it together after Crisis. This came well after, once the dust had long settled and Barry’s death was undone enough that he was undisputedly the real Flash again. So this smooths all that out and puts it into one complete story -- part paneled comics, part prose (though that form isn’t revolutionary, nor does it work particularly well by splitting the advantages of either format, and even presenting it like a novel-ly biography isn't new) -- that can tell it all linearly, if not for the first time then at least with all the parts together. This kind of book would only be necessary if it was the most solid introduction to the Flash, like Superman and Batman have gotten (though so many times that sorting through all the different versions makes the task redundant), so it comes out as more of a Waid passion project, most interesting only to himself, like part of a contract negotiation. If there’s this one there should be one for every major hero, starting from the top (though we can skip Superman and Batman for as many as they already have), at least as a mark in time before they go and screw with the character shortly after (like they did with the Flash, making this an artifact of a point in time, though the casual consumer might not know the difference if they’re not keeping up with the current comic). And maybe a format with a different price point since a pricey hardcover would turn off someone who is too casual for it (though I sold mine on eBay for about $5).
Justice, Inc. (DC). DC could be applauded for taking a chance every once in a while, though only when it works, which is frustratingly uncommon. Apparently there looked like there was some gold in the old pulp heroes back in the ‘80s (then only a couple decades hence, not closer to a century like now), so, in a fashion more typical than just unearthing old ideas, they went full-bore with as much as they could get out of it. Apparently their revival around that time of The Shadow did well enough to look for similar characters from the pulp era, or it looked like that was going to do so well that others could be easily ushered in (surely that movie was going to be as big as Batman, right?). The character of The Avenger (obviously requiring a name change for a comic) was appealing enough, though he was just another shade of Batman, like The Shadow. Though this one was a expert in disguise, but a lack of mastery doesn’t add much. This book was another experiment in prestige format to exploit anyone who would be interested, but it's at best a middling effort. It’s over-worded, which should have been a sin, being written by an editor (Helfer, who apparently could do whatever he wanted at DC after Atari Force then Giffen & Dematteis’s Justice League), but that could have been said to be the style at the time, closer to the density of the old-time-y comics and not yet the decompressed style of the lazy ‘90s. There’s also art by Kyle Baker, usually a solid storyteller especially for humor, but here doing a sober, un-fun morass of scenes that want to go somewhere but settle for being obtuse instead, and trying an abstract style where visual characteristics are flattened by being heavily outlined, which might look interesting for a short story but realize as a drag of a bad idea only too late into the total of two issues. Of course this attempt and character went nowhere, and DC dropped The Shadow not long after (and Helfer got to do Paradox Press, which would have been a much better place for Baker (if only to restrain him by not allowing him to use color)). DC only tried their luck at pulp heroes a couple more times only to end in failure. And Dynamite got the rights to Justice Inc./the Avenger and surely could do more than a pair of difficult issues, though it was a while ago. If the characters are still available, it's a shame no one is doing anything with them; maybe it’s an idea that actually could be updated and DC’s execution was just wrong. But presumably there’s no clamor to see the return of this hero or for anyone to care, even though it's happened that there are fresh ideas for old characters, so I’ve heard.
My Top U2 Songs:
20. "Discotheque"
19. "Angel of Harlem"
18. "City of Blinding Lights"
17. "Acrobat"
16. "Until The End of the World"
15. "Pride (in the Name of Love)"
14. "Heartland"
13. "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own"
12. "God Pt. 2"
11. "Bullet The Blue Sky"
10. "Stay (Faraway, So Close!)"
9. The first 29 seconds of "Sunday Bloody Sunday"
9. "Exit"
7. "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses (acoustic mix)"
6. "With Or Without You"
5. "One"
4. "The Fly"
3. "Zoo Station"
2. "Lemon"
1. "Ultraviolet (Light My Way)"
"How old are you?"
"How much do you weigh?"
"Are you pregnant?"
"Do you realize you're acting like your mother?"
"Are you PMSing?"/"Are you on your period?"
"Could it be hot-flashes?"*
"What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"
"Who's on first?"
"What's on second?"
(* Asked recently.)
RAVES
Dressing just a little bit nicer than you have to. Chinos, if you can't wear jeans. Nice, unscuffed shoes can make a subtle difference. Steam the shirt. An undershirt if the place might care about that. Belts are more than practical. A watch as adornment (even if it doesn't work). A cheap blazer thrown over whatever else can make it all look dressed-up even when it really isn't. Socks (I will forever argue against not wearing them, no matter what current fashion says).
Canceling magazine subscriptions. I've had a subscription to Rolling Stone since I was 18 (getting as a gift); Esquire and GQ I've had for a few decades; Wired was just a few years ago; Westways (the Southern California AAA mag) might as well be forever. It was reading I'd keep near, but now I have a phone, so now I've kept them as bathroom reading (I've been told it's weird to read while peeing not just pooping, but it's only weird to me that no one else does it). Usually I read only the shorter articles that aren't online, saving with a jumbo paperclip the longer articles I can look up and save and listen to later, to get through the issues quicker, though I can't always tell what my rush is except that I have so many to get to (only back to '16 with RS; the rest are more recent -- GQ and Westways I've stayed completely current on). Having a subscription makes them replenish, so it could be a loop that I may never catch up on completely (though it wouldn't stop me from doing my best to, like most things in my life). And I've wondered how and even if any of them speak to me anymore: Rolling Stone wants to capture trends so far in the future that it forgets its format is a dinosaur; GQ and Esquire (which might as well be the same) are about fashions that have nothing to do with me, as well as personalities, usually connecting to fashion, that I would not save to read anywhere else; Wired isn't as much consumer-technology as I assumed it would be (though plenty forward-thinking; it also doesn't talk down, which I appreciate, but still not so much I can get into); Westways travels farther than I'll ever go, though it's free and there are tips about owning a vehicle and having insurance. So I have more reading material than I'll probably ever get to, and may not even want to, and I'm paying for all of it. So I decided there wasn't a point to keep it going and I canceled them all (except Westways, which I don't think I can even stop being delivered). The RS subscription was a jab, since I've had that for over 30 years and it's been a constant in my life. But I just look at the new issue and I can't get excited about reading any of it (particularly since they dropped the starred rating system for albums, then, worse, apparently started it again. And having a cover with an actress with her hand down her panties seems like a desperate move, and a wasted one when it's someone I don't even like). So I canceled them all but I'm still reading what I have, getting my money out of them. Then I'll find something else to read, probably print novels that have fallen by the wayside (if they're too obscure to get as an audiobook). From there it'll be an infinite amount, equal to my fairly consistent need to pee. It's about maximizing the time you have.
Jars. Put small snacks (trail mix, Cheez-Its, peanut butter-filled pretzels) in for transport to where you're going, then when you get there, use it as a vessel to eat those snacks straight out as if you're drinking a liquid from it. You barely have to distract yourself from what you're doing and you won't have stuff on your fingers to wipe off. Though avoid the lids which are two pieces, since those are needlessly annoying.
The beach. Everyone in southern California winds up at the beach at least a few times, usually in the summer (though not always. It's still plenty nice). For us it's getting away from how hot it is wherever our house is (then to bake under the sun and elements, just slightly cooler). For me it's best as getting to go somewhere to read. If you ask me what I want to do on any given day, it will usually be to read (assuming I don't have work I could be doing or you don't want to play Villainous). With no commitments for a chunk of a day, I can sit and be by myself with a book, not distracted by whatever else I have to do or even stuff on my phone (when I assume there's no wi-fi access (which is probably the case but I also won't bother to check) or that I could even see the screen under the glare of the sun). It's not common that I have a swath of hours with a book (my nightly reading -- when it happens -- comes in small bites that add up over time). Usually I have a few trades dedicated to reading out (keeping the stuff I want in better condition at home), and sometimes I get to read more of those if we have a few weekend hours at a coffee shop through the rest of the year, but recently I realized I didn't want to subject even those books to any possible damage just for taking them around (so I can sell them on eBay), and I came to getting books from the library that I would take to the beach or wherever and don't have to worry so much about the condition, since they're usually in pretty rough shape already from previous borrowers. And it gives me a place for library books, when I've been more concerned with reading books I already before I sell them. So it works out. But really, sitting at the beach with a book and the family (when they're occupied, off doing whatever they're doing) on yet another beautiful California day with the waves rolling up -- if I have a happy place, that's it (as well as my final resting place. So if my ashes wind up somewhere else, someone has not followed my only last wish).
This routine for getting new zines out is working pretty well. The goal is for every two months, though it's actually the case that I only start working on it two months after posting the last one, then however long it takes after that. It takes a while, but that makes for at least a couple getting out every year. And I don't know why I would ever say that I was going to run out of reviews -- that's like saying I'm never going to read anything again, which is as ridiculous as saying I'm never going to write again. I should have plenty for these zines for as far as I can see (and for as long as there is this space to post them. Though you know I would find another one somewhere else otherwise).
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