3/8/08
I Didn't -Plan- To, But ...
Things happen.
As a proud graduate of North Carolina's "public Ivy," I can offer only this:
A REFUSAL TO MOURN THE DEATH, BY FIRE, OF A CHILD IN LONDON
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the silent still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
The majesty and burning of the child's death.
I shall not murder
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth.
Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.*
*Copyright renewed 1989 by the Trustees for the Copyrights of Dylan Thomas. Text taken from The Poems of Dylan Thomas, New York: New Directions Publishing Corp., 2003 (third clothbound printing), Daniel Jones, ed.
The notes to this poem in the book I'm using state that Thomas first mailed the poem to a friend in 1945. Yes, the Thomases did live in London during parts of World War Two.
BTW, this edition of the book contains a "spoken word" CD of the poet reading his own work, including "A Refusal to Mourn ...," "And death shall have no dominion," and others.
4/3/08
OK, Just One More, For Now ...
Kudos abound ...
Haven't seen the latest one yet, but I have to say Buffy Season Eight is (almost) all I had hoped for. I say "almost" parenthetically, because I'm sure Messers Whedon and Jeanty have more surprises in store for us insatiable Buffyverse fanatics. What makes this series (both TV and comic) so great is its consistent originality, while staying true to its contextual framework.There are some other comics goodies I've found out there, mostly from the folks at IDW, the publisher of "Angel: After the Fall." (Subsequent issues of that comic have only served to show its early success was far from a fluke -- it's really on the edge, in a good way.) One of them is a longtime British fan fave, which figures in this LJ's subtitle.
Whedon and Jeanty (and Brian Lynch and Franco Urru) are doing what they're doing the way they're doing it for good reason. It's called "staying true to the work."
They are heads and shoulders (and maybe elbows) above the rest of the "licensed" comics. My suggestion as far as everyone else goes: find your own way. You can do it. (As a whisper, look you up some A. Toth.)
BTW: Came across a great graphic novel recently, called "Postcards: True Stories That Never Happened." My fave: "Eastertide."
And that's all I can say.
4/19/08
Ode to the BBC Radiophonic Workshop
It was the theme that got me.
From the very start, the hammering synth bass grabbed me. Then, a theremin-like melody nailed me to the floor. And the stupid-looking kaleidescope vid behind the opening credits made me laugh.
That was my intro (and The Intro) to Doctor Who -- the sci-fi adventure TV show from across the pond. The fourth Doctor was the one that made the trip to Stateside (as in United ... ) for reasons that became clear much later.
US's public television picked up Doctor Who from the Beeb because the star -- actor Tom Baker -- had obvious international appeal. The previous Doctors had been straight from Stratford-on-Avon, and they appealed to British youth, primarily. The original Doctor was an elderly gent in tails (the tux kind) who first took kids on historical tours as an educational program. But (as I believe I've read) the Beeb soon expanded the sci-fi element, and the Doctor as we know him was off and running (from the Daleks or the Cybermen -- I'm not sure which).
A later Doctor combed his hair forward to look Beatlesque, and the third incarnation looked like a refugee from Carnaby Street (no disrespect meant to Jon Pertwee's memory or relations -- I think even he realized it was a bit over the top).
But it was left to Tom Baker to bring the Doctor overseas. He looked (and acted) more like a Tom Stoppard character than anything else, and PBS apparently felt US kids of all ages would like him. They were right.
The first ep I saw introduced the audience to Romana -- the main thing I remember is that Mary Tamm's character could not recall her Earthly name, and she did not like the one the Doctor chose for her. The comic tension between the two set the stage for the series, and it remains a classic.
I saw the eps while I worked in afternoon newspapers: normally we were in early, took a long mid-afternoon break, and were back at it in the evenings -- covering government meetings and the like. So I had free time to spend with the Doctor most afternoons, and I enjoyed every minute.
Though I did not like Mary Tamm's successors as much, I still loved the wild time-bending concept, the absolutely ridiculous special effects, the wonderfully suspenseful scripts, and the sparky (but non-suggestive) repartee between Baker's Doctor and whoever his female companion was at the time.
Baker stayed as long as anyone could (playing iconic characters is tough -- as anyone who's played Superman could tell you), and his successors were less popular. But a thrilling revival, as I understand it, is well underway, as is a licensed comic.
However, I remember the old series fondly (I watched on an eight-inch black-and-white TV set), especially the most unforgettable part -- that marvelous opening theme. It's my understanding that the original recipe for it is long lost from the archives of the Beeb's Radiophonic lab. But I'm sure modern incarnations of the theme still draw you in. They'd have to.
It was that good.
4/25/08
Not Again, Already ...
It's "mea culpa" time!
Now that my circumstances have changed (to "further downhill"), I have to admit something in regard to a previous post ("This Divan Is Not Furniture").
What's happened since then is that I actually met the translator/poet in question, and I heard him read (with music! -- an idea I posted on about a year ago, then pulled down). I immediately liked the guy, and I liked his translations, to boot! Plus, it turns out we share an admiration for a certain master in the field we've both written in and about.
I've also had time to look over his latest book of Rumi translations, and I like them quite a bit.
What's even worse (for my pride) is that, over the last few months, I've actually done some private "transcreations" of my own, without knowing one shred the parent language! (To those totally confused, my old post excoriated this practice. Now I'm just as guilty.)
When I started this LJ, I promised I would get after myself each time I got caught wearing my "pontiff's tiara."
So, here's to another one.
4/29/08
Ozzy Came Later
You got two (halves) for the price of one ...
And it was called "Tales of Suspense." As I've mentioned before, Marvel Comics had to limit its titles (thanks to a distribution deal with DC), and ended up publishing several "twofer" comics in the early 60's.The Wertham scare the '50s and the Comics Code Authority that followed it left Marvel publishing a lot of "monster" comics, as they were known. Mainly sci-fi morality tales, they foreshadowed the kinds of stories we view weekly on TV now (especially the old "X-files" -- in movie houses near you soon, I hear). They also may have influenced early TV, like "The Twilight Zone," but I'm not sure about that.
Marvel decided to re-enter the super-hero market in the early 60s. That's why the Fantastic Four origin story had its roots in the kind of sci-fi Marvel was publishing already. Spider-Man's origin also had a sci-fi angle, as did the Hulk. You may recall that it's "The Amazing Spiderman," taken from the "Amazing Fantasy" title Spidey first appeared in, and then replaced with his second appearance.
What made Marvel so different was that all its super-heroes had their own Achilles' heels to deal with. What made Marvel so doubly different was that sometimes an Achilles' heel was psychological, rather than physical. In fact, that was the rule, rather than the exception.
There was one exception to that exceptional rule: Iron Man.
My offhand research (ain't tabbed browsing wonderful!) tells me that Iron Man took over Tales of Suspense in the early 60s, but was joined by Captain America (a Marvel property held over from the 1940s) in 1964. The two were in a story together, then they appeared in their own story lines after that. Half the comic was Iron Man, the other Cap. (Also true of Nick Fury/Doc Strange and Hulk/Sub-Mariner.)
It was pretty much my favorite comic when I was that age, (as posted before) by default. Gene Colan's colorful Iron Man was nonetheless dark and dramatic, and nothing could match the way Jack Kirby illustrated the adventures of Captain America. Sometimes, these heroes actually lost battles, as did other Marvel heroes, but Iron Man and Cap somehow overcame heavier obstacles than their heroic counterparts to win the day.
While Cap's Achilles heel was time-based (a resurrected super-soldier from WW 2), Iron Man's was physical. His real-life persona, Tony Stark, had a bad heart -- so bad that he couldn't live long without donning the Iron Man suit at least once a day. Though Stark was a multi-millionaire, his mortality was ever before him. While being Iron Man hurt his social life, always knowing he was a heartbeat away from Forever destroyed it. And he felt conflicted over that -- so Stan Lee and Co. got the psychological Achilles' heel in there, anyway.
I really looked forward to seeing Tales of Suspense every month back then, when summer vacation had meaning. I still remember the walks back home, comic in a slim paper bag, from the only bookstore in town those days, and I recall them with immense nostalgia (just about the only nostalgia I have for my adolescence).
I set comics aside as I grew older (again, as posted earlier), but when I heard the opening lines to Black Sabbath's first great hit song, the high I felt was immediate.
5/1/08
Ch..ch..ch..changes (Pt. 2)
Looks like I'm going from "Oh Dark" to "Folio." Those are the names LiveJournal gives to the theme I used to use, and the current one, respectively.
I must say, using the updated themer-thingie LJ provides is much easier than it once was (you can still use the hard one to more heavily customize the look, but I'm getting too old and lazy for that.)
This theme (designed by ... oh, well, I'll look it up later ... .) is a little busier, but less contrasted than the previous one -- so that will mean some writing style changes, as well. What that means is longer content before the "Read more" break (if there is one), and dropping the allusive (right word?) "teasers" that opened and closed each post.
Long time readers (I know you're out there!) know this is the fourth theme change for mercurius_21, and each one indicates some major shift. I'm not sure yet about this one, but one direction I do know is in the new title.
Going from "The Misadventures of Doctor When" to "The Misanthropification of Doctor You" does not mean I'm changing into some kind of "hate blogger." No, it means something else.
Just what? You'll have to wait and see.
5/5/08
Roll 'Em!
I don't go to a lot of movies in theaters. I don't know why, I just don't. I could list easily all the movies I've seen in theaters for the last ten years. (In fact, I'm going to!)
The movies are "The Truman Show," "Buffalo '66," "Three Kings," "Moulin Rouge!", "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," "Quills," "The Shipping News," "Spiderman," "Minority Report," "Before Sunset," "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe," "Me and You and Everyone We Know," and "V for Vendetta (IMAX version)." (OK, I cheated and had to use Wiki for some of the titles.)
These movies are events in my life over the last decade or so. I just remember going to the theater for each of them fondly.
There were other movies in the last two years I wanted to see in a theater, but, for various reasons, no go. Yet, I scraped enough scratch together to grab a (half-price) matinee on Sunday: "Iron Man."
There's another trait I have about my movie-theater viewing that may be considered unusual. I stay to the end -- to the very last credit. This trend also began with "The Truman Show." I was in a great theater, and I wanted to listen to the music during the credit roll (I just drank it in!). I feel it's part of the movie, too, and I want to experience it also.
Without going into detail (or Spoiler Alert! mode), let me just say this unusual viewing trait paid me an extra dividend on Sunday.
Nice job, guys. Very nice.
5/14/08
"'Roun', 'Roun', Get Aroun', I Get Around"
Big show hometown last week. Brought back mem'ries.
OK, I'll lose the 'tough guy" tone. What happened was a car show downtown that really sent me back to memories I never had. What I mean by that is that these guys did things in their cars I only dreamed about doing -- and the show showed that off.
Of course, I'm talking about cars! Not just any old antique cars, but the ones with the real muscle under the hood. Many appeared to be reconstructions with restored bodies and chassis, but some were meticulous full restorations of original street-racing machines that once four-barrelled down the Thunder Roads criss-crossing these fabled hills.
Yeah, this is where Thunder Road started for real, a few years before I was born. And even in my day, the fables of street-racing weekend madmen filled the locker rooms and hallways around my old school(s) when I was a kid.
Last week, I gawked at the enormous carburetors and engine blocks under the raised hoods of these magnificent (re-)creations, drooled at their impossibly beautiful paint jobs, and gazed glassy-eyed at their oh-so-sweet interiors. No, these cars were never meant to race, or even be driven, on the street -- at least in their current incarnations. One bit of errant gravel could ruin any of the immaculate paint jobs on these beauties.
As I mentioned, some of the cars appeared to be top-to-bottom restorations. One owner was so proud of his that he even displayed his original bill of sale from a local dealer (for the stock machine, anyway) and some clips of his exploits (or their upside-down aftermaths) from a local newspaper, yellowed but still readable.
And the show attracted many a modern-day tough-guy, accompanied by a curvy companion -- the sort again of which I used to dream (as an impossible fantasy -- the best kind -- so many years ago!).
Maybe the dream is even better than the reality.
Who knows?
5/22/08
Ay! Camaro!
I don't know how we did it (if we did), but my sis and I may have talked our dad into buying one. Prussian blue, it was new for 1967. It had a name that would prove hard to forget: Camaro.
The Camaro was Chevrolet's (pronouced "SHIVVER-laze" hereabouts) answer to Ford's Mustang. Dad drove us to school (sis to elem, me to junior high -- same site, different buildings) that first fall day -- the kids who were standing around out front before class stared as their mouths just fell open. (*whispers* "Their dad just bought a Camaro!"). Once I disembarked, I knew we were suddenly cool on campus when these kids didn't mention the car -- at all.
A small car by standards of the day, the back seats were cramped. It proved hard to start on a cold morning, as well. Two years later (to my dismay), our dad announced he was trading it. He brought back ANOTHER CAMARO!
This thing was much bigger (in more ways than one, as I learned) than the other one. More legroom in the back, more headroom in the top, and way more of everything under the hood ('bonnet' for UK readers). Still a poor cold start (until we learned how to prime the automatic choke in the throttle), but once it did start -- VVVVRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!
The family kept it all through high school. I tried learning to drive on it -- no use. I ended up having to take my driver's test all over again (a huge high-school embarrassment!) -- this time doing my practice drives (mostly making road turns) in my grandparents' old Dodge Dart (with push-button gear switch!).
When I did get to drive The Big Car (as it was known), I was always with someone. As before, the kids at school rarely mentioned it, except asking "When, O when, would it be for sale?" (Nobody said "O When" -- I just stuck that in.)
I found out why one day. As a high school senior, I was dispatched to Tobacco Town for a solo errand, and I couldn't resist a tryout on the long straight road there. Few cars on the road that day back then, so I gingerly pressed the accelerator down past The Danger Zone (known by "foot training" -- no tach).
The roadside trees suddenly got blurry. The broken white stripes in the middle of the road turned to dots. Really small dots. Moving at me really really fast! Until they became a grey-white straight line of their own.
I gasped. Or maybe I just noticed I wasn't breathing anymore. I carefully took my foot off the accelerator pedal and eventually let an uphill stretch turn the white dots back to a broken stripe and the trees by the road back to their original shapes.
I also groaned (after I checked the rear view with bitten lip). There was a patrolman in the mirror, several car lengths back. And the gas gauge showed that my car had just drunk my spending money (I was going by the record store for jazz LP's on the way).
The patrolman in his grey-and-black stayed behind me, the same distance, for several miles. I sat at the wheel, frozen -- foot dead on the gas, just the way I was taught (to save fuel -- this was years before cruise control, guys!).
After a reluctant refill, I completed the errand, and I never more than touched the accelerator after that. A year or so later, I told the story to a car-savvy neighbor. He literally doubled over with suppressed giggles. It seemed Shivver-Lay had mistakenly put a non-standard carburetor on the engine -- and everybody in town knew about it but me.
The Camaro with something extra was quietly traded back to the dealer (probably followed by an extended term in the service bay) for a family-size sedan while I was away at college (university in UK-talk).
I have no idea who ended up with it.
5/31/08
(We) Move Around
I'm working on a multimedia post (my first), which takes time for the likes of me :p . So, be patient with me.
Until then ...
Something from memory lane has been circulating in my head for months. It started while I was on an errand to the supermarket. I was looking for bread (*mulls* "whole wheat? honey wheat? how many grains? huh?") when something came in from the in-store Muzak (trademark registered) that almost put me to the floor on my butt.
"Change Partners" is a track from a 70s music album that very few people seem to have heard of since (or listened to at the time of) its year of release. The album is called "Manassas" -- which is the name of the group, as well.
Though it's considered a Stephen Stills solo project, this LP features the best combination of rock, country, bluegrass and "new" grass musicians playing a then-new pop-music genre -- "country" rock. This form (minus the freshness of Manassas) quickly swamped Top 40 radio, but it was so easily imitated that it just as quickly became too boring to last -- and it let disco in the back door (so to speak) of music's popular consciousness.
I remember Rolling Stone panning "Manassas" at first, but I bought it anyway after hearing "It Doesn't Matter" on the AM band, and then "Johnny's Garden" on the FM. Back then, Top 40 was on AM radio while an album's inside tracks were aired on "alternative" FM radio.
When FM first became commercially viable in the late 60s, owners used it to broadcast easy-listening orchestral music. Later, some FM licensees broadcast "album" rock with smooth-talking playlist DJ's late at night. Enter me at this point. It's where I first heard Jimi Hendrix play "The Star-Spangled Banner" and (see where I'm going?) Buffalo Springfield do "Bluebird."
By the time of "Manassas" I was a junior in high school, and nobody (that I knew) bought the record. If you see the LP somewhere, prepare to shell out. It's a double album: two LPs in one fold-out slipcase. Each side of the LP has its own title, and each forms its own little concept. "The Wilderness" and "Consider" were my favorite sides.
If you give this thing a spin now, you may hear some now-familiar music blends, as in the track "Cuban Bluegrass."
Yes, those sounds are familiar now.
P.S.: This was not my fave LP that year. It was "Nantucket Sleighride" (*slaps four-on-the-floor beat on the desk* thok-thok-thok-thok ... Sorry, just bangin' a gon -- er, cowbell.).
6/6/08
Furious
All Buffy fans who have not yet read the latest issue of Season Eight should not read the following until they do so ... .
Not to be too much of a spoiler, but BtVS Season 8.15 has a scene that I think is meant to remind old-timers like me of a great panel series at the conclusion of a classic Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD.Trying to be careful not to spoil, but Nick's pal Jimmy finds the love of his live, SuWan, lying on the floor of some space station (I think) owned by Baron Strucker -- who possesses a powerful robotic glove. Artist Jim Steranko had me glued to the page, pop-eyed, until I turned it, and ... OMG. O ... M ... G ... !
The story doesn't quite work out the same way in BtVS, but the image of that sequence stayed in my head for weeks. Goes to show the power of the color-illustrated, printed page. There were no word balloons in the sequence, as I recall it now. There are (as posted last year) batches of little "inside comics" references in Season Eight -- but if you miss any (and I miss lots, if the reviews are any indication), it doesn't interfere with the story.
I understand Marvel is now reprinting super-high-end hardback collections of Strange Tales, all the way back to the era when Marvel was known as Timely. Might be worth checking out when the series works its way to ... oh, wait. This was in the separate Nick Fury title. Oh well ... .
Next topic: My "mulitmedia post" is going to have to wait, for reasons too complicated to explain (actually not that complicated -- I'm just that big an idiot ... :\ ). Anyway, it was NBD -- just a little :20 movie of me looking for the source of a strange noise with my little Nikon. The "strange noise" in question was the mating sounds of the 17-year cicadas that peaked about a week ago. Got a nice close-up still of one glowering at me with both his beady red eyes, also.
The cool part was the sound recording capability on the little digital camera that accompanied the pan of the woods. Maybe someday ... .
It took me back to 1974, the last time the cicadas awoke in this number (1991 was not a big year for them, for some reason). Home from my first year of college, we rolled these transom-type windows out for cross-ventilation. The buzzing just rolled and rolled and rolled through the late spring heat, embedding itself into the soundtrack of my dreams those days, so many days ago ... .
6/10/08
Aaaaagggghhh!
Should be "Arrrggghhhh!" in honor of the upcoming release of "The Hulk" -- but this post is about mistakes. (Caught about ten minutes of an old TV "Hulk" with Bill Bixby as "David" Banner. {Used to yell at the screen, "Bruce! Bruce!" Yes, people think I'm strange. :\ } "David" was the subject of a sleep experiment in some kind of sealed chamber. Unfortunately, he had a nightmare, and he got mad and ... ARRRRGGGHHHHHH! Really took me back.)
The villain in the Nick Fury story was the Yellow Claw, not Baron Strucker. Yes, Baron Strucker tried to get the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. with a robotic superglove, but it was colored red, I think. The Yellow Claw was more like Fu Manchu (about whom I read {with much head-scratching} more in the first Sax Rohmer novel about the character -- story was structured like a Chinese box, very interesting but also very confusing for a teen to figure out). The entry point for the "mercurial" mix-up between the two villians is obvious, if you read the Steranko original.
And the Miranda July movie I saw in a theater (the best in Charleston, SC!) is named "Me and You and Everyone We Know" not ... . I fixed it in the original post, but I like to own up to mistakes (well, the ones in print, anyway! ;) ).
6/12/08
Zoom Zoom Too
The latest (July) issues of Road and Track and Motor Trend have "muscle car" themes. R&T also has a retrospective bit on the life and times of Doctor Cobra himself -- Carroll Shelby. (I just made up "Doctor Cobra" -- that's not an official nickname!) Which brings me to today's waltz down the (thematic) memory lane:
I had to have every issue of Car and Driver and Road and Track. Every one. MT then was devoted to reviews of domestic cars with "how-to" articles added as features. Only C&D and R&T had "motorsports" -- that's Formula One and sports-car news, fans.
The big deal in the day was Ford and Chevrolet's entry into high-end domestic and European sports-car racing. Ford built its own prototypes for LeMans and such (the GT), and lent its racing engines and other innards to people like Shelby. Chevvy just stuck to the latter -- letting Shelby's rival Jim Hall create the Chapparral (I know I misspelled that again! -- see "Zoom Zoom" post from last spring for details!).
The on-track (and off-track) battles between Cobra and Chaparrall (I'll keep trying!) at Laguna Seca and ummm ... the one the stock cars also used once a year back then ... and ... (OK, I'll think of more). Sebring! Watkins Glen! (or was that just F1?) Anyway, the places I fantasized then about visiting one day and watching a race at each one.
Till then, only the mags would feed me what I wanted. (There was even a Mad-style comic mag that made fun of the various rivalries in sports cars -- the aforementioned, as well as Lola, Ferrari, and McLaren!) And now, I have the memories of wanting, but never having ... .
Yet.
6/13/08
Zoom Zoom Too Two
Riverside.
That was the name of the once-a-year NASCAR racetrack I couldn't remember yesterday. A check at Wiki revealed this legendary track was pulled up and turned into a shopping mall some years back. A link there led me to Dan Gurney, the legend of American sports car and F1 racing, at his peak in the time I was recalling yesterday. Gurney grew up living next to the track at Riverside, and he learned to race on it. Gurney, as you will read on the Wiki bio, enjoys a singular place in American (and world) motor-racing history.
Yes, once a year, back in the day, NASCAR drivers had to steer in both directions. At Riverside.
6/17/08
"I'm Looking Through You, You're Not ..."
The title? Personal thing.
The comic book and jazz are the two purely American art forms. By "American" I also include South and Central. But, like everything else Vespuccian (sorry), there is no pure distinction. Both art forms are hybrids.
Cartoons are as old as art. The English apparently invented the modern conception of a "cartoon," largely through Punch. (That's my Eurocentric version, anyway). I'm not clear on comic strips: though that form may have been the invention of the creator of "The Yellow Kid," I have a feeling there are Things Similar that came before it.
Anyway, it seems the comic book is ours. And it has emerged from being a way to make money off children into a highly personal art form.
Here's the list (in the order as best I can re-create) of the graphic novels (or whatever) I've checked out from the public library this year that I truly enjoyed:
The Sandman: Endless Nights*
The Originals
V for Vendetta
The Girl from H.O.P.P.E.R.S.
Perla La Loca
Sloth*
The Best American Comics 2007
100 Bullets: First Shot, Last Call
David Boring
The Shooting War
Trailers
Fun Home*
Fortune and Glory
Postcards
Caricature
The Rabbi's Cat
Life in a Jugular Vein
The Rabbi's Cat II*
The Education of Hopey Glass
We Are On Our Own*
Ice Haven
Alias The Cat*
La Perdida*
Super Spy*
All are excellent. I've put an asterisk (*) beside the ones I found beyond excellent. You can see I've been on a roll lately, hence this post. (Again, forget the title. It's personal.)
These seem ideal for public libraries, because I personally doubt I'd buy any off the bat except "Endless Nights" from a bookstore (assuming I had any money, that is), or that I'd even pull them off the shelf for a look. But they are perfect for checkout. And all so very nuanced and personal, I doubt they even belong in a comics shop.
I've posted before about some commercial comics I really like, but I've ignored mentioning the (true) independents -- largely because they often start in serial form (fancy term for comic strip) in 'zines, or other small-press publications. I know no outlet for 'zines available to me, nor have I ever considered them for purchase when I did have one (or two) available.
I checked out some other "graphic novels" from the library during this period, but they are not worth mentioning. In this form of comic, the stories and art either work brilliantly, or they don't work at all. A few of the "unmentionables" are earlier works of creators in the above list, even the asterisked ones. (That's why I don't even consider buying 'zines -- my loss, maybe, but ... .)
If you're open to being played (once and a while, anyway), it just means you're still alive. It's the players who are dead (to themselves -- otherwise, why would they play anybody?). What you have to remember is the old line, "fool me once, ... ."
Another one is an exit line from that great modern philosopher, Horatio Caine: "That's the problem with manipulating people: they can turn on you."
Yeah, that was the personal part.
6/19/08
In Memoriam
The Ninth Bell
In Memory of Fallen Firemen
I am the cook in the kitchen
They doused the fire I made
I am the clerk in shipping
They found just in time
I am the child in choking agony
They found right before I died
I am the mother burning in grief
They gave water to drink
I am the roofer trapped aloft
They fell bringing me a ladder
I am the whore in the back alley
They bathed the ire lit by an angry pimp
I am the crack-head numb to death
They cooled my burning skin
I am the happy man at home
They war boredom waiting to save
I am the lost soul in torment
They would surrender all to help
They are my golden model
They are my silver hope
They are the ones I count on
When no one's counting on me.
-- Mark Gabriel (copyright 2007 by author, from autograph ms.)