I've only just returned from a phenomenal trip from the emerald isle, so hopefully I'll get back to posting more items soon. I'll tell you one thing I learned from being in Ireland: Chris Claremont has never stepped a damned foot there.
Focused Totality
A Psychic knife that is the sum total of my brains: Comics, Tasty beers, MODOK-enthusiasts, Manute Bol on your cruise
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Read This, Drink That #2
Read This:
Drink That:
You’re drowning. You’re swirling round and wondering if
there’s anywhere to come up for air just before you realize how warm it is.
Trickling down your spine, what was first panic and confusion now slowly melts
away and leaves you feeling comforted and wondering. You start to find the
beauty in the inevitable tragedies and begin to piece together the larger
puzzle. Both Daytripper and Delirium Tremens need to be experienced multiple
times to fully grasp how ungraspable they can be.
Daytripper by the infinitely
talented brothers, Gabriel Bá and Fabio Moon, is a special book
that lovingly punches you in the gut and hugs you at the same time. To be
honest, I’m a sucker for father & son tales and that’s at the heart of
what’s happening here. On the surface, Daytripper follows the life and many
deaths of author Bràs de Oliva Domingos. Witnessing the repeated deaths of Bràs
as he travels to understand who his father was and who he is, the reader is
swept into the flow of this tale’s journey of magical realism connecting snippets
of the most important moments of his life.
I found myself choking up numerous times throughout the story; sometimes
at the moments of heartbreaking loss and sometimes at the moments of beautiful
simplicity. ‘This IS life’, I thought multiple times. Oftentimes the larger
picture is obscured as if in a dream state, but each individual moment is an
entire lifetime for Bràs. All those lifetimes, the friendships and romances,
the failures and the determination to continue, culminate in the larger
painting of what shapes Bràs. All the while you are absolutely awash in soft
saturated color on every page thanks to the masterful work of Dave Stewart, who
compliments that tandem of Bá & Moon’s pencils to perfection. The brothers
are at the height of their illustrative craft with setting suns, underwater vistas
and quiet rural moments. The art reminds you that we’re only just gingerly
rooted in the real world, ready to be swept away with the flip of a page.
Take a sip of your Delirium
Tremens and start trying to remember if you’ve been here before while fruits
dance with cloves on your tongue before giving way to the alcohol warmth. A
traditional Belgian Strong Pale Ale that balances spiciness with a rich full
bodied malt flavor. It is hardly an attack on the senses, instead the
complexities introduce themselves subtlety one after another each sip noticing something
new atop familiar elements. Much like Bràs’ journey we are given an experience
warm in color and aftertaste, a mix of comfort and wonder and a true
life-affirming experience even after the bottle has emptied.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Read This, Drink That #1
Read this:
Drink that:
It’s dark. You’re relying on your other senses to guide you
through something that was once familiar, but now has you upside down. You
thought you were prepared, thought you knew what to expect. You’ve gotten
yourself in so deep that you can only now see a shimmer of the light in the
blackness and you wonder whether it might just be easier to keep your eyes
closed when that blindfold comes off. When you take that final sip and put the
book down, the darkness fades as the blindfold is lifted.
This isn’t the G.I. Joe you remember and this doesn’t behave
like a Black IPA you’ve had before. Chuckles doesn’t just stand silently on the
sidelines and Blindfold isn’t relying on heavy hops to cover for roasted
bitterness. Welcome to G.I. JOE: COBRA: The Last Laugh by Mike Costa, Christos
Gage and Antonio Fuso and get ready to forget everything you thought you knew
about America’s daring highly-trained special mission force. Say “hello” to
Sierra Nevada’s Blindfold Black IPA and make sure to sip it in whispers.
COBRA is a noir spy-thriller that certainly gets darker and
darker as the protagonist, Chuckles goes deep undercover to infiltrate a
theorized organization that is only mentioned in hushed tones. Along the way
through various missions across the globe the reader is introduced to the
various capos and lieutenants serving in this furtive syndicate. It’s quickly
clear the mission is not going according to plan and in order to maintain some
semblance of order, Chuckles is willing to go very far into the deep end of the
pool. The art more than just keeps the mood appropriately dark, Antonio Fuso
renders figures and locales with such a wonderfully subtle grit that casually
reminds the reader what a bleak world this is. Clever layouts never overshadow
the quality of his storytelling ability, with the symmetry of the first Special
issue featuring duplicitous characters outside and inside really standing out.
Once he’s made some choices that cannot be undone, Chuckles begins to
psychology scavenge for his moral center before he drowns. Watching it unfold
takes a toll on you. Often you’re clueless as to who knows what, when they knew
it, what they’re going to do with it and why. It’s nothing at all like you’re
expecting and it is an absolute pleasure to discover this new world (and new
world order) brought to life by Costa, Gage and Fuso. In the end it’s a
straightforward spy story, but the journey Chuckles and you the reader take
into the rabbit hole has you constantly wondering if we’ll all come out the
other side; and if so, are we the same as when we entered?
Blanketed in darkness is an undercover light-bodied, citrusy
IPA trying not to be found out. Typically the style relies on its contrasting
blend of hop bitterness and dark roasted malts to overwhelm the senses. But
Sierra Nevada isn’t covering up for the natural bitterness found in those
roasted grains and instead uses those to compliment the more subtle (for this
style) hop bitterness. Much like Chuckles, this ale is trying to fit into the
seedy underbelly of the Black IPA crowd, but deep inside, you’ll find an
unexpected lightness leading the way. Floral notes on the nose and medium body
mouth feel end in a fantastic bitter chocolate bite for the finish.
Cheers.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Fashion Not A Factor
Just started reading ‘Mutant Massacre’ for the first time,
as part of the larger goal of consuming the entirety of Claremont’s X-Men run
and wowwie wow wow are we in the 80’s with this one, folks. Having completed
the Uncanny X-Men Omnibus volume 2, there is a huge gap between where that left
off and where Massacre begins. Fifty-seven issues to be precise. From what I
can gather a whole bunch of good silly? Good and silly?) stuff went down including,
but not limited to: Rogue joining the team (Ah’m so glad), Kitty Pride getting Lockheed
and her Shadowcat costume (guessing the 4 part series with Wolvie in Japan
happened), mohawk Storm (Fuck. Yes.) and, sadly, X-Factor happened. Hoo-boy,
X-Factor, you sure are a comic with a premise that probably sounded great
initially, but you have got some pantsuit-sized problems. Not to sound too much
like a porcelain-faced E! personality, but Cyclops, Honey. What. Are. You.
Wearing?
Look at poor Warren Worthington wearing that backpack like
he’s a motherfucking early 90’s G.I. Joe action figure. That is one silly
super-soaker wearing solution to hiding his wings. Jean Grey went from one of
the best designing costumes ever:
to rocking a roomy full body blue skull cap with dark shades
and her red hair sticking out underneath. Solid job turning the original X-Men
into the Unabomber Squad everybody. Okay, to be fair these atrocities to
fashion were only worn part of the time, while the team would don perfectly
passable X-laden superhero costumes when they were posing as evil mutants. That’s
right, they put on their costumes to look like bad guys and dressed up as Delta
Burke to pass as “mutant-hunting” good guys. See, there are some very
troublesome ideas with this book.
X-Factor
apparently started with the very admirable goal of reuniting the original
X-Men, who at that point had mostly been doing a great job not being the cool new
X-Men and forming other super lame teams with USFL-sounding names. Bob Layton
and Jackson Guice were originally going to have it be the original four male
X-Men and Dazzler because, y’know, Dazzler. This is all from an awesome post
over at Brian Cronin’s Comic Book Urban Legends Revealed and it is fascinating.
Anyway, problem number one emerges from its psychic cocoon nestled in Kurt
Busiek’s head (per Wikipedia) in the form of bringing Jean Grey back. Which is
fine, its superhero comics and popular characters don’t stay dead. Except they
kinda did back then and the character died by sacrificing herself for fear of
losing control and wiping out whole scores of humanoid-asparagus populated
planets. That shit was emotional, yo. But that noble act of sacrificing
herself, in addition to all the other acts she committed since emerging from
the depths of Jamaica Bay in issue #101 were now no longer Jean Grey at all. It
was the Phoenix Force just straight up cosplaying Jean Grey for 36 issues,
while the real Jean Grey was placed inside some feel good pod at the bottom of
the bay. That Jean Grey had also died heroically scarifying herself so her
teammates could live. But sure, let’s lessen all of that emotional impact and
sacrifice because fuck Thunderbird, amirite? Anyway, this is all pretty well
chronicled information (comic book fans griping on the internet? Shocking!) and
needless to say, all five originals were back together being a group of mutant heroes
who fought bad guys once more. Wrong! Apparently now they’re going to dress up
as “mutant-hunters” for their day job and then dress up as “evil mutants” named
the…I can’t even…named the X-Terminators. Let’s strive for Xavier’s dream of
peaceful co-existence between mutants and humans by hiding under the cover of
humans who hunt down mutants and then secretly rehabilitate them to better pass
as human. If Charley wasn’t nearly dead or in space or both, I’m sure he’d be
super pumped at your interpretation of his life’s work, X-Factor. Cats and dogs
living together, y’all.
Despite
the fact that I find those premises very off-putting I fully admit to having
not read these early X-Factor issues and am looking forward to putting my foot
in the water as I progress through my Clarmont-ian pilgrimage. But my initial
reaction has not been positive, which is a shame because I generally adore both
the Simonsons work. Really though, I just can’t get over the aesthetics. All of
them are wearing my grandfather’s sunglasses that he wears while driving.
Monday, June 2, 2014
The Posthumous Tree Experience: The Effects of Confined Spaces on the Density of Paper
I am terrified to move. I have no plans to do so at this juncture, but that doesn't prevent this looming burden from hanging over my shoulders because frankly, I'll probably be moving again at some point. No, I don't know when. But it'll happen. And it is going to be fucking horrible. Here's a quick list of things that I do not enjoy: lifting heavy things, wrapping things in newspaper, taping boxes closed, removing items from their current locations, cardboard cubes, discovering how years of cleaning around and never behind and/or under an object leads to mini-civilizations of dust and microbes that have evolved to the point where they too dislike moving their shit across germ town. To be fair, packing is okay because that shit is like playing Tetris. Anyway, I worry about moving for those myriad reasons (actually not so myriad; all just relates to my laziness) but also because nothing, fucking nothing, is as heavy as books. Anytime a group of paper gets together inside a box, it somehow turns into a singularity wherein matter is crushed to infinite density, the pull of gravity is infinitely strong and space-time has infinite curvature. Space and time cease to exist as we know them and we are left to confront our new found Lovecraft-ian horror cognizance that there are still hundreds of thousand more pieces of paper awaiting. I love my comics, I do, but the thought of moving these:
not to mention the piece of furniture housing them, is decidedly un-dope. Anyway, I'm super lazy and big on complaining about theoretical moves that are in no way a reality yet, I guess was the point of this. Also, those are some of my comics in that picture up there. Word.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Days of Future Past, Passed w/Flying Colors
Spoilers Abound:
If only I could transport my
consciousness backwards through time to visit my nascent comic-obsessed self at
age 12 and whisper, “it is 2014 and I just stepped out of a movie where Warpath
and Blink fought Sentinels while Wolverine and Quicksilver helped bust Magneto
out of his Pentagon jail and OH MY GOD EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY LITTLE
ALEX!!” We have arrived at the 7th installment (7th!) of
what was, as recently as 5 years ago, feared to be a floundering franchise
until Matthew Vaughn stepped on the scene and wonderfully mind-wiped the sting
of The Last Stand from our collective consciousness. Three years later, working
from a story co-written by Vaughn, a returning Bryan Singer more than just
cleared a bad taste from our mouths, they straight-up said: “That shit
literally does not exist anymore.” And the people rejoiced, for it was good.
The
film is not without its problems, sure, but it delivers an immensely satisfying
experience ripe with strong performances, mind-numbingly clever action
sequences and a story that puts a bow on everything (yes, everything) that has
come before. The much maligned lack of diversity in the cast is valid, however,
as the focus is once again on our white male leads. Hopefully this franchise,
with whomever it may be at the helm, will take advantage of the rich cast of
characters associated with the team (Young Storm? Young Jean Grey? Pixie? Boom
Boom? No, not Boom Boom.) It was refreshing to see a little person actor play a
role that had nothing to do with him being a little person, but rather an actor
doing a phenomenal job of bringing Walter Peck-level villainy. Does Kitty Pride
have powers that make no sense? Does it make any sense that the future and past
are happening parallel to each other? Did Halle Berry and other Singer-era vets
show up to primarily cash a paycheck? Guys, you just have to give in. Give in
to this merry mutant romp and you will be rewarded.
Nothing
could have prepared me for the well of emotions that washed over me during the
last ten minutes of this film. Fourteen years ago I saw a team of X-Men on a
movie screen for the first time that didn’t feel quite right, but I didn’t care
because they were close enough. Now though, after several outings with mixed
returns, there projected in front of me was exactly what I held in my hands and
my imagination as that young comic book fan. Oh, be still my heart, all of the
X-Men are living under the mansion roof on Graymalkin Lane where they are
teachers to young mutants. I had a dream and you were there, and you were there
and you were there….To me, my X-Men!
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