This one was written quickly but the editing took months, mostly just to schedule time to get it done (then wrestle with HTML (see below)). But done, and now I'll move on to other projects for a while (like this one).
This is also my last zine with reflections on what I read for school, and for what was actually my penultimate semester, since my last semester was my capstone class, when I wrote a cumulative essay on my entire college experience, including when I was attending in '92-'95, and working on the literary magazine, which was one of the last online classes offered but I would have taken it anyway given the opportunity. The former was a few sessions of pounding out my last paper and I had fun with it (assuming they could tell that I'm competent from it) and it turned out to be one of my favorite things I've written in a while (and available upon request, as is the Waiting for Godot/Othello mash-up I did for another project). I never heard back on a grade I got on that, but they let me graduate, and that's the ideal outcome, so the details of it weren't important. Then the latter, on the magazine, was some busy-work, taking the second part of the class, after the submissions were chosen and edited (if I had known about it I would have taken it the semester before, for my 1-unit class), so we were putting together the final graphics for the issue (which I did only so far as I'd say what I thought looked good) and planning the release party (also not much I could do, since I was staying at home). That party led to my second time stepping foot on the campus for my entire time at Cal State L.A. (the first being a week before to pick up my graduation materials & gown (since they wouldn't send them to me)), and the week after, the only other time, when I graduated, and as of this writing I haven't been back (and have only driven by maybe thrice). So my two top reviews are from my last literature class, Empire and the Postcolony (again one of the last online classes, and with the professor I'd taken for my World Literature class, so I knew there would be some great books and some independence in my studies, though there ended up being regular class meetings on Zoom). In particular it was about the British Empire and their influence, with which I had very little background (to the degree that in the first class meeting I asked why the era of Robinson Crusoe had no interaction with the Commonwealth -- since it was about 200 years before it had been assembled. It would have been an embarrassing moment if anyone else in the class had been paying the least bit attention), so I got what I needed and it turned out to be a great class. More than a little niche, especially for an American, but the books are classics and I'm grateful I got to interact with them in my college experience.
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe; Friday by Michel Tournier; Foe by J. M. Coetzee. The class I took was Postcolonialism & Empire, mostly because it was one of the last online classes offered in Fall ‘22, but it was also to be taught by the same professor who from my World Literature class (and maybe I would have taken the class anyway, even if my only other option was a poetry thing (though that was taught by an instructor who mentored me in my post-degree English class and on my senior project and it’s a shame I didn’t get a proper class with him)). So this was literature through a postcolonial lens -- the world after it had been conquered by the British Empire and how that was expressed through popular books (including some that have been taught for reasons other than postcolonialism). I had read none of the four books assigned (though probably should have) so my approach was through the theme of the class, but they all had more going on than just that (why they had been taught for hundreds of years). We officially started with some dense tomes on the basis of postcolonialism, which could have been interesting if not diving in on the complexities of the ideas straight off without easing in, and making it a lot more complex than it might have needed to be (Beginning Postcolonialism by John McLeod & Colonialism/Postcolonialism (The New Critical Idiom) by Ania Loomba, which don’t need more space than what I’ve given them here (even when we were only assigned a scant few chapters to get the idea)). I had thought Robinson Crusoe was an adventure tale (when I wasn’t getting it mixed up with Rip Van Winkle or Treasure Island, for potentially common ideas and themes), and to a degree it is, but more a survivalist story, and fantastic in plenty of parts (I’ll never be sold on how he was able to produce bread even after that many years on the island), and enough populist pandering to make this the pop book of the day, far before more interesting forms of entertainment (though from a world where most people actually read). Our concentration was on the metaphor of Cruesoe representing the British Empire and conquering and taking the island for himself (and possibly, by extension, for England), but particularly the relationship between him (colonizer) and Friday (colonized), his companion/slave/saving grace for a story that wears thin with only one character who has no flashbacks and a very limited imagination. This analogue actually does not cover a lot of the story, but enough that we could be introduced to the concept of that metaphor and work with it in more elaborate ways.
Friday digs into the relationship between them -- Crusoe to his friend/servant, the British Empire to its subjects -- but the story is a reconceptualization rather than a different perspective keeping the source intact. It’s also limited in its views on postcolonialism, allowing a look at the influence of the colonizing power in only a few passages, and even Friday himself takes half the book to show up (again conceding the power, at least of the narrative, to Crusoe even in someone else’s book). From there it’s a rewriting of Robinson Crusoe, down to making the end a significant departure, but the relationship between the two men is still intact and as effective as it should be as the center of the standing metaphor. The events of the original book provide a spine to a fleshed-out version, but it’s the same path of the white man lording over the simple native, and the recreation of that weaker power molded to the whims of the superior power. It doesn’t go much further than that, but it looks bad enough in this day when such overt shows of power, especially by a white male, are toxic. So it becomes a powerful piece in its exploration of colonialism (if it didn’t lose the class from the first books explaining the base concept), as well as a brisk read (especially since I had to do it the old-fashioned way when there wasn’t an audiobook for it).
Foe wasn’t assigned but it was noted by the professor. It was also a book by Coetzee (whom I discovered then relished in the World Lit class), and it sounded more interesting than Friday. It’s a retelling of Robinson Crusoe, but, taking that book as it could have been fact, the story of the woman who had also been on the island with Crusoe and Friday, and her quest to get the recognition she deserved after being written out like she didn’t exist. It’s all very meta (especially since it was written some 267 years after Robinson Crusoe’s publication), which made it an exciting concept, but it’s also deadly dull. It’s tersely written like Disgrace, but where that book pushed forward with situations in the modern day and carried an undercurrent of danger and loathing, Foe is turgid and pissy, when it shows much feeling at all. Being written mostly in letters wasn’t the worst idea, but they could have used a writer more invested in the value of their own life. As it was, for such a great idea for a story and resurrection of a book from hundreds of years before, it’s also disconnected from the concept of postcolonialism, showing why the professor didn’t officially assign it, though it probably would connect by any other theme that could be attributed between the two books. Yes, it could be inferred that Foe shows the gender politics from the view of the inferior power -- a woman colonized not to be made property (at least not completely) but to have the fact of their existence controlled by a white man -- in the same way that Friday was racial politics from the view of an “other” made as property as the basis of their existence when they and their agency are discovered then claimed by the white male. But that might be taking it a step farther than it needs to go, and it’s more clearly expressed in Friday, and the two points of view between them express the theme of postcolonialism more distinctly, and there was enough to dig into with the 16 or so weeks we had for the class (though there were class meetings on Zoom so there was some discussion, but still a lot of writing & responding on discussion boards (and at least one good paper I wrote from it)).
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë; Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys. I might not have minded not getting to Jane Eyre in my entire scholastic career since I would have thought it was the intersection between high, enduring literature and weepy romantic drama -- a place that did not interest me -- but when it popped up on the syllabus for the Postcolonialism class, I knew I’d at least get some high, enduring literature, and one of the classics that, again, I was supposed to read years ago. For the class we generally eschewed the romantic and dramatic aspects of the book (yet still had to read the whole thing, for some very wide context) and focused on the elements of Oriental (as in, having to do with the Middle-East and Eastern Asia) fashions and approaches to relationships with women and the existence of Bertha, the mad woman in the attic -- more as a bridge to the next book we would study that defined that theme more definitively. This was an interesting approach, but it’s only a minor element in one, sole scene of a book that is deep in various themes, history, and characters which can lend themselves to a study in any English class, and this might have been the least of all their uses. The study of Orientalism was a rehash of what we did in the World Lit class, but that was a very wide study that would have brought out at most one section from the book, as surface details that would have breezed by in a traditional reading. This class gave some new depth to that environment, but it was making a lot out of a little just to tie it into the theme of the class. The rest of the book is wonderful, though, and not necessarily all weepy or romantic or dramatic (though, to be sure, there are plenty of those elements if you want them, with a lot of life and character). Jane has a lot of story, and some of it drags only because of the happening of some dull events, particularly the introduction of the creepy St. John, which also ties into the ending, which could also be a circle back to the theme of colonialism, except that it’s merely musing without any particular action, and seems to be cut off by the end before it finally arrives at its point. Brontë also has a flair with words, letting the writing of this flow better than most of the heavy literature we might have to dredge through, to let her characters shine more brightly without distraction. It could be an adventure book for girls, and inspiring since it doesn’t end with an outright tragedy, but it also feeds into the chauvinism of gender roles from the day, if that can’t be separated as simple context (and a more engrossing class). Distilling the theme we had to assume for the class to just a theme, it was interesting to take just one element of a classic work and dig in to it, though only one of many, and see how it enriches the greater context. Most survey classes can’t give that much bandwidth, but as a study in how to focus and examine just one part of a greater whole, it might have been the better theme of the class. The book is also credited with being revolutionary -- hard to decipher when you’ve also looked at hundreds of years of stories before and after -- but on a personal level I can credit this reading with helping me differentiate Jane Eyre from Jane Austen, and now even from Virginia Woolf.
Our tangent book was Wide Sargasso Sea, which I’d never heard of, but deeply connected to Jane Eyre. It’s not a botched rewriting like Friday was to Robinson Crusoe, but extrapolating one minor character from Jane Eyre and vastly fleshing out her story (at least to the minimal degree that the original book noted her, nearly only in passing). Brontë might not have realized she was shuffling away Bertha, her most electric character, but Rhys picks her up and has her way. Her story doesn’t contradict anything in the main text but plays within the space outside of that canon, taking it far enough away that she’s written far and wide and deep and alive with her own life (so far that you might have to dig for the connection to Jane’s world). It doesn’t have the same range of its parent story, but for its brevity it goes as far as it needs to, and maybe a bit more, dealing with focus on domestic violence and racial themes, which Brontë may not have touched even if it could have been acceptable to do so. It also stands as something like an update, having premiered in 1966, 116 years after Jane Eyre, but this is the largest incongruity between the two of them. While Rhys takes free reign with the story, including exploring much more the point of colonialism, which Brontë may have arrived at incidentally, WSS makes it no accident, and, if it is on purpose and not just a tangential element to the context, even makes it a main theme (which makes it essential for the class, and even retroactively makes the case for Jane Eyre’s inclusion even stronger, as we’re studying them backwards, or at least getting into the real meat of it with WSS). The latter book also becomes its own adventure tale, though not softened as if for a girl, but with extra drama, and plenty of brutality. Conjoining them in a common study can enhance both, but WSS exists with the added bonus of being its own separate story, one that doesn’t have to be connected to its progenitor, and isn’t unless you think to look, but that also expresses its own lack of dependence and how it stands on its own, though would not have reason to exist to study without its legendary mother tale. Reading both, it could be seen as an incomplete task to consume one without the other, with one as a worthy companion piece, and maybe a shame that more of Jane Eyre’s characters didn’t get more depth with the same treatment to have their stories told (except for St. John. No one needed him).
Of Mice And Men by John Steinbeck. I’d like to think my list of books I should’ve read in high school is getting shorter. But then there are some classics I get to read and appreciate at my current age (considerably older (by two or three times) than when students usually have to experience this, implying that they’re expected to advance a good deal or I’m way behind)). Or The Kid gets to muddle through and immediately forget. This is another book to offer the kids who have to read it a vicarious experience, but it’s hard to understand why anyone would want to go back to California as a desert before the glamour, though there’s violence graphic and surprising enough to be stimulating if the kids can get that far. The theme for this one is making the hard decision when it is -- or isn’t -- the right thing to do, though this doesn't deal with the consequences of such an action, which would be where the real story is. It’s also thin enough that most of the students would get it just from a description, though there could be a lively classroom discussion over whether anyone would or should have done the same thing. There’s also a section in the middle about a peripheral, Black character, as if any book in high school requires dealing with race. That actually doesn’t connect to the larger themes of the novel so much and plays as an adjunct lesson (that students could skip like they’re whaling chapters and still get it) or filler for a book that comes up as thinner than its legend would infer. In a few ways, the kids can get off easy with this one, or at least easier than some of the heavier stuff they have to read.
As befits an American classic, there are probably a few audiobook versions, but I lucked into the one read by Gary Sinise. Of course he has a gruff voice, every-man enough to relate to, and he’s smart enough to know his stuff. He doesn’t get into acting out the characters too much, thankfully, and Lenny doesn’t sound any dumber than the text makes him, but enough to contrast George, who of course becomes Gary Sinise so much that it’s hard to not have faith in anything he says. When Lieutenant Dan says you need to die for killing the pretty lady, you’re going to die for killing the pretty lady.
Hiding Scars by Richard Zaric. I’m not going to review a book by a friend, but since we’re all friends here we’re supposed to help each other out, so here’s a link to Zarko’s book if you haven’t bought one yet: https://www.amazon.com/Hiding-Scars-Richard-Zaric-ebook/dp/B07NSLXVJR. And I’ll say it’s the first print book I’ve actually read (not for school) in quite a while (since asking him for it in text so I can listen to it could imply that I was less than serious about experiencing it. And it was just good to read a book for once).
The Astounding Wolf-Man: Volume 2 (Image). Sometimes you can do with some straight superheroes stories, and if Kirkman can’t be the master of high art (even with the human/zombie drama of The Walking Dead, an interesting cross-section of genres in projects), he can be the high master of low art. This is as straight-forward a superhero story as you can get, without a reliance on convoluted continuity that has marked even the best superhero stories since they started crossing over. Though the crossover with Invincible is manageable and even predictable for the modest (relatively) universe that Kirkman created among his superhero books, the fact that it completely becomes an Invincible story for those issues uneasily exposes this as an extended but tangential Invincible story instead of its own thing. Throw in a mystery and a few twists (imagining that Kirkman came up with them as he was writing) and it’s a reasonable break from heavier stuff. The art borders on cartoonish (in a good way) but it tells the story and leans away from the house styles that the majors established. Not the freshest air but it’s a little sweeter to breathe.
Sandman: The Dream Hunters (DC/Vertigo). Looking back over the decades of The Sandman, there hasn’t been much of a lack of special projects. Gaiman locked down a promise from DC that they wouldn’t touch that world’s flagship character, Morpheus, and surprisingly they haven’t violated that, but he’s also repaid them by coming back to do more with the character (if anyone gets to). Gaiman has had enough wild success outside of comics that there’s no reason for him to return, yet he does, and we are fortunate to be blessed by his deep love of the medium. Maybe it’s being so starved for more Sandman stories after getting to live through having new ones delivered monthly or just how amazing it is that Gaiman would not only do more but still have stories as wonderful and enriching and magical as any as have already been printed. Every new Sandman story by Gamain (since only stories by him will have legitimacy enough to sell (probably, but DC isn’t willing to bet on it)) is an event, though we get them more often than Mage. As such Dream Hunters was the first one, a special out of line with anything else, and even one that could be read independently of anything prior. It’s truly a special book, one that could have come out during the original run or left in a time capsule for later generations, being a collaboration between Gaiman and Yoshitaka Amano. Sandman was only as tangential to superhero stories as it needed to be, to ground itself in some kind of fictional reality or just to sell it to the fans that buy comics, but this one goes the rest of the way. There are no superheroes, no action-based theatrics, not even the structure of the standard comic book; the illustration is fine art, the kind not seen in comics, but in galleries in countries far from our grasps and visits. The fact that it’s reproduced into print is the biggest hit against the book: this is art that should be experienced in person, since examining it any closer on the page reveals just how crude and lifeless reproduction is (though suitable if that’s the expectation). Gamain’s story is typically rich and moving and works on a number of levels, but also deceptive and, by measures, sinister. What could have been a bedtime fairy tale eventually becomes anything but. Its only other criticism is that it’s so predictably great, if not the best of either creator, a triumph in their sum. Now just another story worthy of its brethren on the shelf, and one not even necessary in the grander, ongoing story of the dream king Morpheus, but certainly a special deserving of the description.
Super Sons/Dynomutt Special (DC). There are actually worse gimmicks than dropping off Saturday morning cartoon characters in harder, less childish stories just for the shock of putting them together but it’s good to get some of these beloved characters in stories that take them a little seriously, which was never the intention for them but better than just being cartoons in too many senses of the word. And have we ever had a Blue Falcon & Dynomutt comic story? The Story Quest series could have been too much to wade through, to figure out how they were building that world with those resuscitated characters and where to jump on, but these one-offs could be enough just to get a quick taste of some nostalgia but not drown in it. When the Elmer Fudd/Batman issue could be said to be the best Batman story of that year, and Tom King’s first big splash on the character, maybe these specials could be trusted to be something approaching good, and legitimately so. But then, they’re all with creative teams as varied as the characters and team-ups featured so it’s all a mixed bag, so get in where you want, or with what characters captured your imagination the most back in the day. (Misplaced nostalgia is just as good. Those characters were great (and I never even saw most of those cartoons).) Dynomutt was at best an unnecessary superhero Scooby Doo rip, but Blue Falcon always had a great design, something even enough to compete with Batman on his best day, and maybe entrancing because it was in such short supply (as opposed to the Dark Knight, who has always been as ubiquitous as anyone could want). We don’t get a comic with B.F. properly teaming up with Batman but the Super Sons are a close proximity, one that could work as well (or maybe better since that would make it an entirely different thing on its own). At least with the Super Sons it could be fun. Maybe it’s a generational thing but I don’t have anything to do with the sons of Superman and Batman, but getting Tomasi, mainly the pair’s babysitter when they team up, was probably a coup, so this issue turned out probably as well as it could be. And it’s no great revelation of Blue Falcon, and I could still do without Dynomutt, but it’s a nice sampling of characters in a book that we don’t have to have more of. But if they could put together those characters in a cohesive thing that extends a bit more all in an easy volume, that could be something to say should have existed 47 years ago.
Grindhouse: Doors Open At Midnight: Bride of Blood/Flesh Feast of the Devil Doll (Dark Horse). A one-off purchase, maybe just for the art. I hadn’t been familiar with the work of Alex di Campi, but her name had been all over the place so there was no reason to not see how she got so much work. The book is two stories, each as different from the other as possible, except for some thematic similarities and that each angle on being stories that could be old-style grindhouse movies, but can stick to comics as well as any other horror story. The one about the bride is the superior one, making a gruesome tale that moves along, with enough meat to be satisfying. The other story might have been the one I bought it for, with Gary Erskine art, but his own pencils and finished art these days is as bland as could be, with only the fact that he can still tell a story giving it any value at all, unlike years ago when his stuff had weight and punch (enough to make me fan enough to keep up with his work). Hopefully he can still ink if he gets the project for it, but he’ll probably keep popping up anyway. That story too is disjointed and can barely make the length, being a slasher thing, with female heroes that aren’t just victims, but what’s killing them barely makes an impression to carry. These stories were originally a few issues of a Dark Horse series, and getting this serialized, and waiting between each episode, and even trying to remember to get the next issue to keep up, shows that it’s better presented in a collected edition. Also works because they’re self-contained stories, beginning and ending in the same book, and two separate stories in the same offering. Even if they’re not for the price of one, it’s a reasonable combination, and works as well as a drive-in double-feature movie (even if the stories would work better in that format, but infinitely cheaper and more possible as comics). There are other stories in the series, but just like the grindhouse movies, you can be good with just one double-header (the other side of done-in-one stories).
The Red Star, Vol. 2: Nokgorka (Archangel Studios). By far the best thing about these books is the production values, namely because a proper graphic novel (more than a comic because it’s over-sized) actually has production values. The way they put together the visuals should have been a revolution in comics but just like a book that doesn’t fit in the regular comic box, fans couldn’t get their heads around something as nuanced and structured when it wasn’t the same flat images they’re used to and not crowded with whatever superheroes were trending (or in movies) at the time. The rest of the industry didn’t catch up to this as much as the team kept doing things as usual, generally just expanding digital coloring, so this is now left as a novelty that still looks nice today, even if it held a world that was too narratively convoluted (in the best parts, dull and unfocused in the lesser) and out of touch with real stories of war than it needed if it wanted to age better, but a lot of potential. (And though I met the guys through mutual friends in San Diego, they did this book probably within a mile of where I used to live. I would have liked to have done a story with them if they’d kept going.)
Y The Last Man, Vols 1-5 (DC/Vertigo). I started this series some years ago (since I met Sweetie, since I bought the books for her, after she admitted to liking the Buffy books) and I stopped for some reason, but I started them up again to at least finish the five we have. Even reading the first three again (deeper than I intended to just to catch up), it’s a thrill. The writing is solid and it jumps in and moves along, maybe too quickly but better than spending too long to set up everything. Its focus shifts but the characters stay consistent. And it gets even better in the fourth book, the one where I left off, with so much that had been just around the corner. It’s not Saga (at least not at this point), but it will be a thrill to finish this eventually. (And no big deal to finish it so swiftly -- there’s plenty more Vaughan stuff out there (and plenty more Saga that I have already)).
Cortex Plus Hackers Guide (Margaret Weis Productions, LTD). This was a gift, connected to my interest in the Marvel Heroic Role-Playing Game, which uses the Cortex rules as a base, with a few tweaks to make it for superheroes. Cortex lauds itself as flexible enough for any genre, from superheroes to fantasy... and that’s as far as it sells itself, but that could also be as much as you need with RPGs. The book makes a few weak attempts to open it to other genres, particularly a corporate drama piece, which is probably a better idea than in execution, but it keeps in mind who it’s selling to. There’s a lot in it to set up for fantasy, to try to siphon D&D players (as any game wants to do), and not a lot for superheroes, but I was also coming to it from the full-on Marvel version so that’s my perception. And even though it’s plenty of fantasy, and there aren’t a lot of rules to learn for MHR in the first place, I still wanted to give the book a spin to see if there was anything I could pick up for my own game. I jumped in to reading it like any other book, but I couldn’t swallow much even with a lengthy car trip as a passenger. It’s dense information, especially packed on to a printed page to make for an efficient book, and I think I only got through half of the chapter on superhero genres (and that might even have taken some pre-bedtime reading too). That was near the end of the book, and there was still plenty to consume for the rest of it, so it went on a shelf (though my own game didn’t seem to suffer for it, since I’d already read most of the MHR base book (up to the info dump of power & skills descriptions)). I was taken back to the days in high school when we were deeply into RPGs -- and plenty of them -- and we would read those rule books like they were novels. Which is the wrong way, and something I still hadn’t learned with this. You have to go in with a selective eye and absorb the important parts and compartmentalize the rest, to emphasize what you need and not get distracted with consuming too much of the whole thing, most of which is unnecessary. There are different ways to read fiction and non-fiction, but even non-fiction can be taken as a narrative, but that’s all different for an RPG book, which is much closer to an encyclopedia, no matter how much they try to give it any kind of flow as reading material. Yet it might be difficult to know what and how much you’ll need from the material, especially as the GM, and not something you want to be caught flat-footed not knowing when you’re in the middle of a session with a half-dozen other people waiting on your knowledge of the game you’re playing, so just to be inclusive you’ll still be inclined to read it like a book. But that’s also where text-to-speech came in for me, acquiring a text version of the book and grinding it through the app to listen to when I went on lockdown walks. That wasn’t a situation where I could jot notes as it went along or hone in on a few particular points, so maybe best to get an overall idea of the system, for which I was already solid having had my MHR campaign going for a few years already. It was just a lot of information to process, barely being able to control the speed of ingestion from the steady feed of having it read, and often finding myself in the middle of a monster profile/stat-dump that degenerates into a bunch of numbers being rattled off without modulation. It was a heavy listen with a lot of noise, but probably better than reading the thing (except for being able to more easily skip all those stats), and I’d probably still be on it, with a minuscule pay-off, just like with how much time we gave to those books back in the day. Not that we would regret playing those games, just that there were better ways to go about them: start with a player (preferably the GM) who knows the game, play a game to feel it out without relying on looking up endless details (even in hopes of finding some advantage), research what you need between sessions, learn the game gradually (or make it easier to abandon since we’d probably be on to a different game by the next session). Better than trying to ingest all that information and assume we’ll process enough to put it into use, which rarely ever worked. (Maybe the reason only one of us became a doctor.) And to make a fantasy game, it’s not hard to adapt such a pliable system to another genre, which one of my players did, adapting a campaign from an old D&D module. He really just carried over the rules, even though some of the functions are different for a fantasy version, according to the book (which the GM might even have not read). And it worked just as well, and with fewer niggling details to hold things up. I can work better for superheroes because the broader stats can represent the range of powers and abilities, though there have been those who have balked at the lack of detail and nuance in the Cortex rules. It’s a simple system, which is enticing to new players and those who are more interested in the narrative aspect and less on the mechanics, and it works well on the message boards I’ve set my game up on, since there doesn't have to be a lot of back-and-forth functions and excessive dice-rolling, and simplistic enough that it can conduct the flow of a story well. I don’t know how far the system went after this book or if it was only a flash in the pan some years ago to leave nothing for today (though the Cortex channel on Discord was plenty lively when I was on it a while ago), but it leaves some good pieces that can be smuggled into other games (even the same one), which is probably the best benefit of playing a range of games (to pay for all the time put in to reading those damned tomes).(And the one significant thing I found Cortex that I used in MHR was Scene Complications, which are so useful that it seems like there’s a specific purpose why they were left out of the official MHR rules (and I’d like to know why (especially before I start using them even more)).)
10. Crash- Charli XCX.
9. Doggerel- Pixies.
8. Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers- Kendrick Lamar.
7. How Do You Burn?- the Afghan Whigs.
6. Skinty Fia- Fontaines D.C.
5. A Light for Attracting Attention- the Smile.
4. Special- Lizzo.
3. Midnights- Taylor Swift.
2. Wet Leg- Wet Leg.
1. Harry's House- Harry Styles.
20. "She's Electric"
19. "It's Better People"
18. "Lyla"
17. "Rockin' Chair"
16. "Half The World Away"
15. "Little By Little"
14. "The Hindu Times"
13. "Rockin’ Chair"
12. "Alive"
11. "Some Might Say"
10. "Whatever"
9. "D' You Know What I Mean?"
8. "Stop Crying Your Heart Out"
7. "Don’t Go Away"
6. "My Big Mouth"
5. "Hello"
4. "Wonderwall"
3. “(What’s The Story) Morning Glory”"
2. “Supersonic”
1. “Slide Away”
RAVES
Going to the gym. Pre-pandemic and before we moved, and when I wasn't working, I was at the gym most days (the 24-Hour Fitness in North Hollywood, about an 8-minute walk from our place), doing weight-lifting and cardio classes, swimming on Fridays, and a great yoga class. It was a great routine. Then everything changed, and the pandemic hit and we couldn't go out even when we wanted to. Gyms were quick to close (appropriately) and I got barely any exercise for more than a year. We had a daily walk (a few miles, a small incline, not strenuous enough to work up a sweat) and I lost a lot of weight*. For a while I honestly thought I might never go back to the gym or even exercise with any intensity anymore. Before things in the world even started getting under control, the gym started charging me a fee again, and it took me a few months to notice, so I had to decide if I was going to fight it and quit or start using it again. I had to take a 1-unit class for school and I chose one on kinesiology, which was basically listening to a short lecture about nutrition then body-weight cardio for 40 minutes, once a week. It was a challenge for the shape I was in but it got me moving again and made me realize I could use the activity, for my mind as well as my body. I offered Sweetie to go to my gym for cycle classes we could take together -- we each thought we were obliging the other -- and from there I started taking the weight class again, then a cardio class, and even the cycle classes on my own. The classes are mostly for building lean muscle, as I have no interest in bulking up, and are usually full of house-wives and middle-aged women (as opposed to actors with flexible schedules and an image to keep as cheaply as possible, like in NoHo). Taking a class also sticks me to a routine and helps me focus, as opposed to work-outs I'm guessing at that get pushed late in the day so I have less time then easily distracted when I'm doing them. Yoga used to be my most valuable class but now it's only on occasion when I can fit it in (especially since I can't get it on Friday anymore). That totals to five times a week (including getting up at the regular time on a weekend day, which also makes me ready to run errands after), though I shuffle it out if we have something going on (but never letting myself skip it just because I don't feel like it) or I have overtime for work, so it's my priority, when we're free (which is most of the time anyway).
(* I mean, I gained weight.)
Emojis. If you've known me for the last 27 years (and you probably have since a lot of the audience of my zines comes from e-mail circles we’ve had from then) you know my distaste if not vehemence for emojis. They’re infantile replacements for actual words and meaning that might lead to a connection through text, and usually they’re just stupid anyway. I can get my cartoons elsewhere. The sideways smiley-face stopped being clever when it was used by a second person; I’ve spelled out “sideways smiley-face” far more than I’ve ever typed out the symbols to make it. And yet, I started to appreciate their use when I realized that a thumbs-up was less work and more to the point than deciding a better phrase than “Sounds good!” yet again, then typing it out on top of that (though you know I can type it very, very fast). It also became my sole accepted to reply to "Thank you" other than "You're welcome" (when in a casual correspondence). That stretched into a heart symbol if I wanted to express a sense of fondness toward a person and/or their idea but could be vague about it. Besides, an emoji can have a visual punch that conveys its intentions far faster than words (if such a usage is for a minor thing and not a way to be lazy). I get it. Though I stopped at those two. (Until I find more uses for the hammer. The eggplant can be funny (when appropriate).) (And if you've ever gotten the smiley-face from me then I’ve been mocking you.)
The Hail Mary Pass. The saying goes “You’ll never know unless you try,” and while I never try anything (I just do it), it’s amazing what might happen when you just give it a shot instead of assuming it’s not going to happen and giving up. When you've exhausted other options (but before going nuclear by posting on Yelp) and all you have to lose is the time to send an e-mail or just ask, there’s no sense in not doing it, if for no other reason just to see what happens, and more often than not there can be a surprise. Lately I’ve gotten a refund on part of my monthly gym membership, a free order of French fries, filters for my CPAP, an appointment to give blood, Olive Garden mints, and a $40 Door Dash credit, all for times I didn’t think I’d even get a response from customer service much less what I actually wanted (even from something that was my fault), but I asked just to do it, and I won. It also helps to be clear about what you want from who you're asking. (That bit of advice might grow to be more articulated later, since it's important.) You can’t win if you don’t try (that one I could stand by).
I was having issues with HTML -- just like in the early days of doing this, and something that never seems far. The last issue looked wonky but I wanted it done, and I don't edit after I post so I wanted to make this one was as solid as it could get. Those issues were back and breaking into the code only made it worse. I was about to let it go then I found I could change "Paragraph" (somehow its default) to "Normal" (suggesting that anything else is abnormal?) within the pull-down menu formatting for highlighted sections. It worked better than stripping out the formatting (which also should have worked anyway). So it's looking better to me (though that murky green background color will forever rankle me).
I've got enough content for another issue but I might be slowing down after that. Once I catch up with my reviews, there might not be much to include (unless I come up with something new, but that would be the biggest change I've had for this in the 28 years I've been doing it). I purposely slowed myself down by embarking on the Alan Moore Saga of the Swamp Thing opus; that's been since November and I'm only on the third book (of six) (and the first book was much of the time since, and I've been where I am now for weeks). I haven't been reading much, though lately I was squeezing in a little space for it (though still consuming magazines in the bathroom, plenty of articles by listening to them, and the occasional audiobook on the weekend). Once I've caught up on this I might reconfigure, but right now I'm going at the same speed. For this zine I've planned to keep it at the same pace as when we were in print, every two months (did we really do that? Even if we fell behind a few weeks, did we even aspire to do six issues a year? Did we ever even get close to that (or even have two months between any issues)?), but I might change that from my deadline (which slides considerably with no one to keep me to it, but that's still been my goal) to when I start working on it (or rather, editing and putting it together, since I write most of the content in line with my other writing tasks, usually well in advance). There's no sense in catching up too much, especially if I can't refill enough to keep up the pace. It's doubtful that will be too close to a couple months, seasonal might even be asking too much, but hopefully more before too long.
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