"The Push Man and Other Stories" and "Abandon the Old in Tokyo"

If you're a fan of comics like "Ghost World", "Love and Rockets" or "Strangers in Paradise", chances are that you have Japan's Yoshihiro Tatsumi to thank. He is the originator of the gekiga ("dramatic picture") style of comic art that deals with more realistic, mature, and somewhat moody subject matter, as opposed to the escapist adolescent fantasies that makes up the more well know comic book fare. It has been said that Tatsumi's influence on modern comic books of the east is similar to Will Eisner's development of the term "graphic novel", to describe comics that relate more mature, realistic, subject matter. In short, both artists have not only broadened the technique applied to the comic arts, but also broadened the scope of the subject matter that could be covered by the medium.

Tatsumi started publishing his stories in the late 1950's, and his works were not published in North America until the late 1980's. But more and more of today's comic book artists are citing his influence on their modern works. The gekiga style is more prevalent than you think. The influence is shown in works by creators such as Kazuo Koike and Goski Kojima ("Lone Wolf and Cub"), Lynn Johnston ("For Better of For Worse"), Charles Burns ("Black Hole").





I found collections "The Push Man and Other Stories" and "Abandon the Old in Tokyo" in the graphics novel section of my local library, which is quickly becoming a much beloved source of entertainment. Tatusmi's works are compelling, but they are not easy reads because the subject matter is pretty explicit. His works focus on post-war Japan, on the isolating effects of increasing urbanization. The stories show how amid the sheer numbers of Japan's overpopulated cities, one can get lost in the miasma caused by just eking out a day to day living. His stories are sexual, but not titillating, violent but not gratuitous. His works are just plain undeniable.




I don't know if that is a recommendation or not. I'm just telling you what it is. It's up to you to decide whether you want to experience it or not.

In other comic book news...

It is exactly one year until the re lase of the movie version of Alan Moore's and Dave Gibbon's "Watchmen". To celebrate, Zack Snyder has released the following photos, showing the Watchmen in full costume.







Looks slick, baby! I think the costumes are phenomenal, and although not absolutely faithful to the graphic novel, I am impressed with the choices made to bring the characters to life. Hopefully the story holds up. I'm still holding out my reservations because Zack Snyder did wonderful thing with the visuals in the movie 300, but I think he crapped out on the acting and story.

...Yeah, But Can She Write An Environmental Assessment Report?

Margaret Atwood thinks she's so friggin' smart,
because everyone thinks her writing is art.
The only thing I really know is,
she couldn't hack it in the environmental biz.

She likes to write futuristic, feminist plots,
that don't ever mention spaceships, laser guns or Asimov robots.
Now other readers may give her a pass,
but she must have been sick the day they taught science fiction in writing class.

To write a technical report you have to be precise,
and somehow make bad news seem nice.
And you have to make spurious lab data fit,
or else your Client is gonna lose his shit.

Today I wrote "Low dissolved oxygen content indicates the groundwater is oxic."
But MS Word kept spell correcting the word as "toxic".
Watch out! 'Cause one misplaced "t" could repeal,
A multi-million dollar land transaction deal!

So let's raise glass to the writers of environmental prose,
Because we all are truly life's un-sung hero's.
We may never win a Booker prize for writing the technical word,
but we should feel free to flip Margret Atwood the bird!

Buffy Blogcast #2: Is Buffy Sleeping with Xander?

THE LONG WAY HOME: PART II

Synopsis:


We get re-acquainted with some old friends.

Giles, apparently, has re-started the Watcher's Council, only this time there's only one Watcher, but hundreds of Slayers-in-training.



Buffy is also busy training (trouncing) her squad at the Scotland HQ.



Andrew is busy with his Italian Slayer Squad.



And Giant Dawn takes a bath.



Meanwhile, General Voll is contemplating using tactical nukes as a method of dealing with the Slayers (and he's not even remotely joking). He also wears a "setting sun, rising star" scar much like the demon victims in issue #1.



Elsewhere, Buffy kisses Xander, making his head pop off.



We soon realize stuck in a dream induced state, the first wave of an attack instigated by Amy the Witch. The second wave involves....



...lots and lots of kilt-wearing zombies. I kid you not.


The Queen Slayer is down and out, zombies are invading the Castle HQ. One would lose all hope if not for the appearance of...



Willow, the Uber-witch. I smell a Wiccan Battle Royale!

Stay tuned for Issue #3!

Key Plot Points

• Xander suspects Dawn made herself giant on purpose, perhaps to get Buffy's attention.
• Andrew's appearance in the comic is too funny to summarize. Worth the price of the comic alone.
  
• Depictions of Buffy's dreamspace is identified with black borders.
• Did Buffy and Xander have a "friends-with-benefits" thing going on in the recent past, or is this just a part of Buffy's dream?
  
• Which beg's the question: Why is Buffy dreaming about sexing Xander?
• Amy announces that her spell on Buffy can only be broken with the Kiss of True Love. Seems that Amy prefers casting spells that require kisses to be broken (see Season 7 episode "The Killer In Me").
• Xander's paramour, Renee, takes a zombie sword to the back.
• Willow can fly!
  

Bedfellows

I guess I can't complain that my bedroom is so crowded
'cause I don't know if I wanna do anything 'bout it.
When the clock hits ten o' clock and my wife turns in
it's an open invitation to some old time friends.

First I spend some time with a snow and blood-splattered lady
raised with vengence in her heart from the time she was a baby.
When somebody needs somebody killed, just pay 10,000 yen,
the lady unsheathes her sword and then the fun begins.

Or maybe I'll take a visit at the Boulder Free Zone,
and hang with Stu, Frannie, Glen, Nick and other friends I have known.
We'll commiserate about the plague. Oh how that summer was bad!
And we'll plot the downfall of that man Randall Flagg.

Or maybe a trip to Vegas? A room at the Sands would be keen.
Take in a Summit show with Joey, Peter, Sammy and Dean,
And oh yes! Mr. S! The vaunted Leader of the Pack.
One more scotch-on-the-rocks before I hit the sack.

I've met beggars, I've met queens, and people in between those stages.
We've been formally introduced between the turning of the pages.
I've met messianic humans raised on the Planet Mars.
I've broken bread with modern prophets, and spent time behind bars.

These people I have met, in my dreams I hear their voices,
as they rant, cheer, weep, and mutter agonizing over choices.
And as I put the books away, snuggle with my wife, feeling mellow,
I'm glad, and very grateful, that I have such strange bed fellows.

Aliens Vs. Predator: Race and Gender Politics in Horror

In his 1981 book Danse Macabre, a treatise on the horror genre, Stephen King writes that horror stories hits us on two levels. There is the "on-top" level, where we are alternately trilled and grossed out by the gore. It's the exploitive pleasure, similar to rubber-necking a highway collision, and although we may be wracked by guilt, or bad-dreams... dammit we just can't help but look.

And then there is the "down-below" level, where the horror hits us in the deep dark places. For all our technological progress, North American society generally remains a tribe of Puritans, and we like to inhibit our psycho-sexual race consciousness as much as possible.

In other words, we like to keep things bottled-up. Much like Victorian Age Brits, we don't like to look too deeply at ourselves. Maybe this is why we generally feel like we're under so much pressure. The Apollonian outer image we present is sometimes at odds with the "down-below", truer Dionysian inner reality. Stephen King summarizes that the horror genre serves as a pressure valve to help us relieve that pressure every once in a while.

So what is it that we North Americans are so afraid of. Well, my friends, pull up an armchair, and sit with me as we (without benefit of degrees or training) psychoanalyze ourselves for a while. We shall begin by looking at the two most evocative horror villains of recent history: Aliens and Predators.

Gay Aliens From Outer Space

Ever look at an Alien? I mean really look at one. The Alien creature that was first introduced in 1979 in Ridley Scott's seminal science fiction masterpiece was designed by H.R. Giger. It's inspired by one of his earlier works, titled Necronom IV, reproduced here for your inspection:



I don't think that there's any overstating that the Alien (aka, "xenomorph" as it was called in James Cameron's sequel, Aliens) is essentially a seven foot bio mechanical penis. Let's also take a look at the key features in the creatures canonical lore:

• it reproduces by forcing an ovipositor down your throat (note the creature design... Giger based it on human hands, spine, vagina and testicles);
  
  



• after incubating inside a human host it "hatches" by forcing its phallic little body from inside your body;
  
  



• it's blood is deadly acid.

Hmmm, a horror story about forced oral-genetic rape from a toothed phallus with deadly blood... made just around the same time the AIDS epidemic was becoming known. Story creators Dan O'Bannon and Ronald Shusett knowingly including these elements in the creature design for the express purpose of scaring the crap out of the males who fit the general demographic markers of a horror movie audience. You see, there's nothing the red-blooded North American males loves more than his own dick, and nothing scares him more than having to take somebody else's dick.

All this is known. I mean this is not a secret. And this is not in itself what makes the Aliens franchise special. Really, what resonates with us is not the villain, it's the villain juxtaposed with the hero. The Alien wouldn't be as evocative if it wasn't for Ellen Ripley as played by Sigourney Weaver. It is notable that in a genre dominated by muscle men, all perish at the hands of the Alien except a woman.

In the original 1979 movie, one scene that masterfully (and somewhat exploitively) displays the character's savvyness and vulnerability. In the closing minutes of the movie, Ripley slowly becomes aware that the Alien that decimated her crew has stowed away on her escape space vessel. The only way to get rid of it is to blow it out the main hatch using depressurization in the vacuum of space. The only way she can survive that is to don a pressurized space suit. So slowly, carefully, Ripley doffs her crew uniform in the presence of the malevolent creature (why? who cares?) so and dons the space suit in time to save herself.


So here it is: gender politics writ large. Gay sex and heterosexual titillation. Our nasty little sexual secrets, the things we don't like to discuss in polite company. But when it's shown on the big screen, we can't get enough.

The Universal Zulu Nation

In the 1987 film, Predator, Arnold Schwarzenegger and a rag-tag bunch of mercenaries discover themselves in the South American jungle fighting a technically advanced, completely ruthless alien, who seems to be hunting humans and taking skulls and spines as trophies. The alien in question was designed by Stan Winston, based on a brief conversation with director James Cameron. (Coincidentally, Stan and James both had the opportunity to further the xenomorph design in Aliens.) James had the idea of the mandibles, but it was Stan who had the idea for the dreadlocks. And it's the dreadlocks I want to discuss, because of the statement it makes on the creature design, and the impact it has on the overall character traits.

The dreadlocks imply a race based on Caribbean/African cultures, a pastiche further reinforced by the tribal nature of the Predators. They are hunters and take trophies. They wear tribal markings and ornamentation on their flesh and armor. They are bred for strength and are physically larger, faster and stronger than humans. The weaponry they wield are based on spears, knives and bladed weapons. (Younger Predators are known to use guns and plasma blasters, but apparently according to canon, older, more experienced Predators look down upon that practice). The race is matriarchal, and employs rites of passages, the most well known being that only the most experienced of hunters make their way to Earth to hunt humans. Returning to the home planet with a human skull was a sign of great worth.



Does the Predator serve as a proxy for Earth based tribal warrior races? In my mind, I would consider it representative the most prevalent stereotypes of brown-skinned peoples. I find it an intriguing concept. Note, in the first movie Arnie mortally wounded the Predator creature, but did not kill it. It killed itself by activating its self-destruct mechanism, laughing all the way to the end of its life, satisfied that the Guv-nuh was denied credit for the final kill. In Predator 2, Danny Glover was the first human ever to fight and successfully kill a Predator. It is also notable that at the end of that movie, the Predator brethren recognize Mr. Glover's prowess by awarding him a Civil War era pistol, his very own trophy and a sign of grudging respect.

Requiem

Aliens and Predators have been around for over 20 years. The early movies from each franchise are significant, earning recognition from the esteemed American Film Institute. Later movies have provided diminishing creative returns. Based on the box office of the last two movies, combining the characters will continue to be financially profitable, although creatively limiting. Part of the reason is that the movies are not really scary anymore. They are not hitting our deep "down-below" spots as effectively.

Why? Maybe it's because we live in a society where gay folks can marry (at least up here in Canadaland... we love ya!), and a Black man is running a legitimate campaign for Presidency. I thing though, it could be attributed to other reasons. We have other things to fear.

What do we fear now? Let's look at today's horror movies. The Saw franchise doesn't quit, and ushered in a new genre called "torture-porn". In the movies I Am Legend and Cloverfield, we are destroying New York again and again, much like how Japan is always getting blown up by nuclear blasts in anime (seemingly strange for the only country attached with nuclear weapons).




In this, the Age of Terrorism, our fears have transmuted, and we have other things to bury deep down in the dark.

Review: The Year of Living Biblically, by A.J. Jacobs

First a digression...

Jasper Johns, the American artist, has created this following sculpture (the title escapes me):



A good friend of mine had a debate over this an other similar pieces of modern art. The subject of this debate was: "Does this really count as art?" The debate we had about this sculpture, which was very similar to the internal debate I have about the Bible, went something like this:

NOT ART:
For all intents and purposes this is nothing more than a few paintbrushes stuck in a paint can and covered with some sort of shellac. Anyone could do this, therefore it doesn't deserve any merit. It's nothing special, except to a bunch of people are attributing a whole lot of meaning about something that is inherently meaningless.

IS ART:
The sculpture has hidden significance. It shows that one can find meaning and relevance in the simplest items. It invites us to look beyond the literal to see that extraordinary beauty can be found within the ordinary. There is something special about the piece and we have to actively engage to appreciate the technique and discover the art.

The debate between my friend and I was never settled. My internal debate about the Bible continues still. One one hand the Bible seems to be a collection of rules, some practical (like the thou shalt not murder thing) but a lot of archaic, outmoded rules. Whenever I've attempted to read the text, I've been baffled by the language, and thus it's hard for me to find meaning from the words. Even Proverbs, my favorite book of the Bible can be incoherent in parts. On the other hand many folks derive a lot of meaning from the text. They see beauty in the language and can feel that the words carry some deeper spiritual significance.

So my desire to experience deeper meaning while not having to go through the hard work of reading the Bible is reason why I picked up the A.J. Jacobs' most recent book, The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible.



A.J. Jacobs is a bit of a "stunt-writer". His last book detailed his exploits of the year he spent reading all 32 volumes of the Encyclopædia Britannica. He participated in an experiment inviting the Wikipedia community to edit one of his intentionally error-ridden articles. Personally, I think he's a bit crazy, but there's no denying that the man has impressive commitment. And you gotta admire his elan. A lot of people nowadays have been crowing about the literal word of God, but really, has anyone had the gumption to actually try living his or her live in accordance to Biblical rule? I mean the literal wording of each rule? Not just the Ten Commandments, mind you... the crazy ones too!

Jacobs did for one year. He didn't shave for a year because there is a rule in the book of Leviticus that bars a man from trimming the corners of his beard. He stoned an adulterer in Central Park. He didn't wear mixed fibres and wore fringes on his clothes. He sacrificed an animal. He wore white. He refrained from marrying his wife's sister (she doesn't have one, so that was easy).

During that year, Jacobs also met with men and women from many different faiths who claim to live the literal word of God, including Jewish rabbis, members of the Amish community, evangelical Christians, and folks the evangelicals considered way too conservative. It's a charming story, sometimes quite funny and refreshingly open-minded and even-handed. To be fair, I think the term "stunt-writing" might be a disservice to the author, because his motives were genuine. He, like the rest of us, is searching for meaning, and ultimately his journey may prove to be quite illuminating to all "people of faith" (or even to those "without faith"... Atheists, Agnostics, Scientologists and those of similar ilk).

SPOILER ALERT
At the end of the book, Jacobs come to realize two very significant points:

1) No one lives the literal word of God. People may claim they do, but they don't. They pick and choose like the rest of us.

2) Who says the Bible is the final word of God? For all we know, God has whispered in the ears of other writers, artists, musicians, dancers, mimes, TV producers... (okay, maybe not TV producers, because they are obviously Satan's lackeys).

These two points really resonate with me and I'm glad Jacobs had the balls to vet them, 'cause I certainly would not have done what he did.

God bless.

Born Standing Up by Steve Martin

Quite often, when stand-up comedians write books, they are rarely auto-biographies. Rather, they are reprints of their most famous routines, which are enjoyable to read at first, but as the book ends, you realize you really haven't learned much about the subject. And quite frankly, there are very few comedians I would think would have the kind of self-awareness and integrity to write a proper, warts-and-all, autobiography. I mean, really who would want a fucking memoir by Carlos Mencia?



Funny, well-crafted, minimalist and absurd. If I had to describe Steve Martin's auto-biography, Born Standing Up, in one sentence... well.. there you go. My wife and I are fans of his novels Shopgirl and The Pleasure of My Own Company. We found that the best way to enjoy either of those books is via book-on-tape, read by the author.

It's strange that I am a Steve Martin fan, because I really don't enjoy his stand-up. I'm not from that era of comedy. I grew up in the Eddie Murphy Era. The Steve Martin Era of comedy is just slightly before my time.



On the other hand his movies, writing and TV show appearances are enjoyable. Generally, when I view, read or listen to a Steve Martin performance, I can trust it will be quality entertainment. It's obvious the man works hard at his craft, and takes is seriously. He is economical in his gestures. He can be surreal but still dances within the limits of comprehension. Also he's maintained a sense of integrity that his peers have somehow lost. For example, Billy Crytal started funny and charming, and ended up boorish and pompous. Monty Python started out unique and daring and now have sold out to a degree that cannot be justified even by their self-awareness. Steve Martin on the other hand just writes his books and makes his movies and I still remain a fan.

This is all to say that Born Standing Up is a great book and is a quite enjoyable read. As good as the book is, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the book-on-tape version, read by the author is probably the better purchase.