Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Intercontinental Ballistic Miscellany

Speaking of intercontinental: my buddy Evan Quiring, up in the great white north, just released his latest self-published comics effort, and kids, it's worth the wait. Los Luchadores Mysteriosos features the action-packed adventures of Rey Diablo, the cigar-chompin' North American champion o' Mexican wrasslin' back in the mid-'60s. With more zombies from space than you can shake a Tor Johnson at, this bad boy is like reading a Cramps record in four colors. Do yourself a favor and visit blackswanstudios.ca to order yourself up a copy for a measly half a sawbuck.

Speaking of buddies of mine: international sex object and fellow PopMatters alum Kevin Brettauer is officially one of Earth's mightiest heroes. Marvel recently had this deal where you could upload a picture of yourself and then they would consider it for inclusion in a photo collage entitled "I Am an Avenger." Naturally, I submitted a picture of myself, but as is obvious upon seeing the finished product, they clearly had plenty of pictures of bespectacled white guys. So mad props to Kevvy--get your hands on a Quinjet and let's go pick up chicks.

Speaking of picking up chicks: Even though I bought Marvel Illustrated: the Swimsuit Issue back when it came out, I'd never really considered myself one of these weirdoes who has an unhealthy sexual obsession with super-heroines or their villainous counterparts. My sexuality was already well a-brew thanks to such TV icons as Elvira, Suzanne Somers, and Phylicia Rashad. So by the time I discovered comics in the late '80s--coincidentally enough, around the time when more and more female characters were beginning to be drawn wearing less and less--I found it a little weird that so many of my peers seemed to get off on, say, Psylocke's ninja costume (or lack thereof). All that being said, the recent revelation that Rogue and the Sentry, y'know...did it, I dunno, I think it's kinda hot. Am I a weirdo now, too? Or have I not just been getting laid enough lately? Either way, I need to find me a 1967-era Marvel Girl costume and a cute redhead to fill it, ASAFP.

Speaking of PopMatters: I know I've mentioned this site more than once here, but if you have yet to check it out, you really oughtta. I haven't paid much attention to comics journalism since high school, but the vast majority of it that I glance at still seems to be sodden in that Wizard-y fanboy-ish, gosh-wow-neat vibe, which is just embarrassing for all. You've got stuff like The Comics Journal, but even that isn't available in a print format anymore. So as long as you're looking at smarty-pants criticism about comical books on the internet machines, you might as well see what we've got cooking in the PopMatters kitchen. There's me, Kev-Kev, my buddy Oliver Ho (and both of these cats will also soon be found on our sister site, Let's Kill Everybody!), and a buncha others, including our editor, the inimitable if obscurely-named shathely Q, who is the hardest working man in comics journalism. So g'wan over there already and let us know how you feel. Hell, submit something if you wanna; seems they're always on the look-out for writers about whatever goofy shit you might be into.

Speaking of computer machines: I've been a huge fan of Peter Bagge's stuff from when I discovered his "Vomit Glossary" poster at the age of 11, all they way up to and beyond the age of 32 when I taped up his "Esas Locas Ex-Novias" poster in my station at work. When Vertigo solicited orders for his first original full-length hardcover, I hesitated not a moment in ordering it. Frank and John decided to wait until
the softcover edition, a move I can get behind normally, but in this case, I had no patience. And my impatience was well rewarded. Other Lives is the story of four people and the way computers and the Internet have allowed them and/or cursed them to undergo extensive identity changes. It's really a masterful piece of story-telling in this regard and, like all of Bagge's stuff, it is fucking hilarious. Surely by this point you've read Hate, and this is without a doubt his best stuff since that beloved title ended. Get it now, softcover be damned.

Speaking of being damned: Obviously, I'm running a little low on ideas around here. Anybody got a topic they want me to cover, a book or several books they wanna see reviewed, what have you? I'd sure appreciate it. You can get a hold of me here, or down at the laundromat, riffling through the dryer lint.