Falling back into the rhythm of having the eyeballs taken out each day from the computer screen screams for relief. As always, solace and comfort is taken in the panels of the pages within the comic books. At least they don't have monstrous and unforgiving backlighting...
Concluding the sensationalistic Sins Past story arc, the car is pulling back, the throttle eased off a little. With one of the characters fighting for her transmutagenic life, the other is out getting his nuts on. Typical fashion shows up the maniacal and grevious nature of Norman, his disdain and clouded judgement doing much harm. A wrapping final, there appears to be a glimmer of hope for the two newcomers in the universe.
Picking this issue up to string back a friend into the fold would have met muted results. Second half of a two-parter, it's a lesson learnt kind of issue. Nothing outside of one teenager imparting this sense of heroism. Uplifting.
It's as if the story is taking place twice over within the same stream. Incredible. The artwork is all over the place in terms of finding one medium to settle on, which is great and is rather liberating. Tracks across the page which include little tidbits about the scene affect this whisper/aside detail that just works so well in this context.
Out of the window and the hilarity stands up straight on the podium. The Futurama and Simpsons universe really work well rubbing up against each other. Right now, it's all a little bit hazy.
Monday, 31 January 2005
Future made plans to destruct an apple within the compounds of a desk drawer were utterly diffused with the arrival of a load tester. Insistence on making any sort of use from the compartment holdings underneath his temporarily allotted desk doing much damage. On one day the browned Granny Smith sat proudly atop a blue mug. The other, it was gone.
Over across the chasm of desks, a co-worker grabbed herself a handful of fruit, only one of which was eaten. The other pieces were summarily dumped into the bin at the end of the week. Fruit pieces the other players in the floor would surely have taken into their digestive systems. But no, this continuance goes on and a simmer boils on.
Saturday, 29 January 2005
With Invasion Day giving up a slot right in the middle of the week it was going to be either a day spent outside soaking up the cinders or inside, hacking away at another article. Neither happened. Taking over all the time of the day, lines of code and sudden hits of additional bits that would drive the car toward insanity if not taken immediately to the toilet. So, as the freelance writing falls into another crater, comics were had as a prenight snack the night before...
Instantly drawn in by the concept of a big brother entity ruling the future in a rather heavy handed fashion. The art looks so well washed and clean, with a little edge still on for effect. It's not too smooth nor is it so rough for gruff sake. It feels like a blend of the environment and the paranoia; matched greatly by the colour work on the pages, there's a sense here. Since the main is a writer it's an automatic connect, so that part was a sorted cheat. The opening scene was a rather excellent use of narrative and imagination. The final scenes position themselves well to leave an intriguing question that wants to be answered.
Obviously drawn in the style and dynamic made famous by Jack Kirby, there was little connection with any of these heroes. Quick and like lightening, characters jump in all over the place, crowding the elevator. The midget with his umbrella is looking for the 13th floor. Sure was a delight in reading a complete—though massively rushed—introductory issue. The connection between the Minuteman and Nuclear Winter did get a mention, but everything else just felt like all these players joining in halfway to take some of the glory. Just like a co-op video game of arcades old. An excellent play on that disarray.
Certainly not the kind of issue to just pick up off the shelf for casual reading. On the week this was released there were no other copies; usually there's at least one by collection. Must have sold out or been shorted.
Anyway, running head long into the ditch, the dialogue is all out wordy and takes a little time to catch up with. The Captain America/Agent Morales scenes are overshadowed by the chummy nature of the Falcon/Anti-Cap scenes. MODOK really comes off as a threat and a conniving menace. If getting thrown about the room all naked and covered in jelly looking for a spoon was the intent, it's worked. Read on pace, it's a nicely done issue, but definitely not for the drop-in.
Thursday, 27 January 2005
"It's been a long road, getting from there to here."
Nothing says journey like the jazzy jazz stylings of a down beat theme picking up a beat or two within the step. Season three promises a harder and faster edge. An edge sorely lacking from the first two, dooming it to the pitfalls of castaways in an empty ship without a steady supply of mangoes.
Thursday, 27 January 2005
Making an escape from a hostage situation and catching dust mites off the disused bike helmet, a few letters and an Express Post package. Their collected state as such bears a question to just why they would look a little dishevelled and a little worse for the time. After a reported dispute over the placement of a review package on the fence, there's at least one delivery contractor with an eye for hurt or revenge.
On the address section of the new package, Last magazine. With good word and reception on two recently completed assignments, the assumption led straight toward a review item. Sticky and oh so not wanting to rip easy, the plastic finally came apart at a seam and revealed its contents. A red trucker's cap with Von Dutch on the face. Competition winner.
So, the wrestling DVDs are still being waited on then.
Tuesday, 25 January 2005
Absolutely one of the better crowds all season long at the NBL match between Kings and 36ers. Raucous, rowdy and all round a fantastic atmosphere to watch one of the few remaining Kings home games before the end of the regular season. The bookends were mostly holding down the cheer and the middle suffered the usual lull of anything else. The cheerleaders must have had a new kick in their step. The Lion certainly did. Missed out on most of the half-time entertainment catching up outside door 10. Kings were strong at the start, let the 36ers back in and then just about gave them a defeat that wasn't all out too bad for them. Kings win 100 - 93.
Saturday, 22 January 2005
Things are starting to break down on the whole "nationality as a game" game. Not just a single incident, but a couple and maybe even enough to make a few cropped themselves into the picture.
Forcing an appearance at a birthday lunch, the whole flavour and style of the set was discussed. A Chinese restaurant, the topic floated over to a comparison with the Korean deal. One that set up a trip on the tongue, making hard work on collecting the façade. Too many questions in too little time. Fielding them were not at all easy, especially given that any one of the other two guys at the table were liable to open up and declare the manners all false.
Later on, a discovery in that the new PA happened to be a Korean as well. The match up was fleeting and squinted. Walking out of the room was the only thing to keep from breaking out in hard-to-conjure lies.
Must study up on this.
Saturday, 22 January 2005
Reading the newly grabbed Owly graphic novella collection (The Way Home/The Bittersweet Summer) more than once spoils the charm. The quick burn out of the entirety not a lasting effect to be had. Damn but it is cute. And away it goes.
Friday, 21 January 2005
With not a thing to collect from the offices of street press outfit The Brag for the past two months, it's probably going to be directed back at the choice in shoving the entries through the gmail account. Surely being a winner would factor in, but with the ratio of last year, it's highly suspect that a new address would bring in less than glamorous results. Banned perhaps?
And this on the same week on learning that long time CBR mail is shutting their doors on account of massive losses and freeloaders not paying for the service.
Friday, 21 January 2005
From the wilderness, lost in its own filth of two weeks, a return to the open plan. Back again, the entirety of this deal still simmering and sauntering with all meaning of protraction. The hurt comes in having to resign at defeat, nothing prior to the break was retained with any sort of stark clarity. Most, if not all, was washed away and scrubbing the shore. Getting back was a little slow and unfamiliar. Not at all like the news again of another stint at helping to hold down the fort. If this keeps up it won't stop.
Saturday, 15 January 2005
Holding out the palm grove area of Darling Harbour, a street performer named Gareth. A hundred metres away, edgy to get their gear on were a couple of guys from the Sydney Kings office as well as Luke Kendall, back from wherever it is a blow knee takes someone. The large crowd that had gathered for the Magnificent/Amazing/Mondo Gareth vanished at the money collection.
Then, out of nowhere, all these kids in wheelchairs and their aides, along with a bunch of small kids, form a line at the slanted hoop setup. The small kids know no organisation or manners, jumping in all over each other and else. Shots were taken and all that. All of them were out for the first round. The second featured better.
Passing on free tickets to the game on Saturday, and knowing full well about the Bollywood act they were having, one of the guys handed a free black "Where's Barlow?" T-shirt for the effort of sinking one in on the second go.
While that was good, it wasn't at all welcomed to hear about a cheat in telling when the new Lion would be taking over. Spoilt.
Saturday, 15 January 2005
Out of the sheer amount of rampant sex scenes on last night's Carnivale, there is absolutely no recall of any forewarning. Nothing in the way of a disclaimer and action note on the count of labels hit. Every other scene felt like it was setting up another scene featuring a carnal act of sex. Brutal overload. Adult themes? Must have seen something surely. Tensions have built over the course and the sex romps explode in one massive orgy of release.
Tuesday, 11 January 2005
Consigning sanity to a bin in a corner of the ceiling, the weekend spent hacking away at making sense out of disparate paragraphs seems to have paid off. At least in recognition and acceptance. Whether or not the two articles sent over toward LAST magazine end up being published is another matter. Their collection of a payment conditional to their appearance and a start again on getting back into the sell-out writing habits.
One, a piece on Futurama is a solid work. The other, a review/rewind to the top best comics out from 2004 isn't as confident. Parts of that monstrous beast still niggled on doubt. Welcome for the hate/spit mail.
Tuesday, 11 January 2005
Few days remain in this period of rest. The run up toward getting back into a dreary day and regulated sleep apnoea welcome. Taking it all in...
Solid fury, held back and there are no heads flying off their shoulders. Instead, a tale featuring a murder prepared and served earlier in the time line, but still within this comic. A great handle on the other characters, but Conan is left with few words to show his stuff.
Great all out action issue. The team are brought to shine in this where they are finally proving to themselves on how far and hard they can push their limits. Both Sue and Johnny happen upon that threshold.
The linger mystery affecting the streets finally comes to ahead and ends on a move away from the setup drops along in the previous issues. Somewhat tense on seeing how close to breaking the relationships were.
Just a rollicking ride. Balls out all over the place in terms of comedy. Plastic casing definitely reeked though, the stench a little overpowering in the first whiff. Too squashed and easy an ending though.
The Fantastic Four guest star and really bring this one up, which up until now has felt only marginally a fun title. Sure, it was a great opening reintroduction. This issue seemed to rip into the whole celebrity thing about super heroes fighting for their share.
A lesser version of Aeon Flux comes to mind on reading this. There is no story and it feels rather plucked of any real reason for being. The backup story actually did more to do something as opposed to the nothing of the first half. Painful in a little way, but not enough. This isn't a well done introduction.
Saturday, 8 January 2005
Summer under the darkness of strobe lighting, reaching for a child-proof bottle while sopping in sweat and listening to an endless stream of dance. Played straight from start to end the tracks bleed into each other, an orgy of fluids that seamlessly sound the same, and at a glance, without an identity of their own. If the goal is to forget time and hold the nose up stemming the flow while the rest of the body wants to keep on the charade of knowing how to coordinate, it scores a hearty celebration. Stitched end over end and sharing the same breath as those adjacent, Sunday morning listening comes at hitting shuffle. Each track at least then ribs a little and fights off the neighbouring tracks to show a version of their own that, for the most part, can stand on its own. Mixed by Mark Dynamix and John Course, this double album has a stainless feel to it, a sensation similar to licking metal.
Thursday, 6 January 2005
After 98 hours the silence is broken.
Thursday, 6 January 2005
As the jettison of junk continues, a few envelopes fall from a box clinging desperately to their once hidden and unobtrusive state. And there in their midst lies an album cracked on the lower hinge. Utopian Babies - Nothing in Moderation. Cast back into the future from the year 1999 and a few minutes later at the sounds of tearing rivers and the tracks now join the audio stream. Now, trying to figure out in what circumstances the album itself made a home for itself in this dusty jacket of junk will keep the sounds of scratching roaches at bay. A new worry to worry about and keep the days peeling off any sort of rested sleep.
Tuesday, 4 January 2005
...and as the continuance into silence tallies up another day, more comics are polished off in the lead up to what may turn out to be days wherein such an abundance of time is scarce...
Homer losers his job. Bang. Marge picks up the slack. Bang. Hi-jinks ensue. Uh, sort of, somewhat, a deflated note to be sure. Nothing ever changes and that's fine. What would be nice is if they didn't make it seem as though this was like something that probably did happen prior in either the animated or the comicbook. Bits here and there making it look like they were, but a new coffin is cast all the same. If not for the whole "Marge Simpson Living" thing this would have been a burnt casserole.
When was a high-school reunion last mentioned in Spider-Man? Convenient for the final scenes, this felt like a shoehorn jamming in a lemon in the eye socket of a hamster's skull. The villains in this issue were getting some good air time, their lines at least making their motives a little clearer. Aunt May still remains at large and pretty much seemed a non-issue in this issue.
The awkward nature of Bendis dialogue really worked well here. Talking about talking when the subject of talking is clouding another matter entirely. Reed, Johnny and Peter kinda looked too similar to make any sense of their differences.
Wow, massive loads of text and this just did not stop to take a breath. As a black and white it works really well, colour probably serving to distract and pull the story away. The end seemed rather abrupt and looked like it was missing a panel or even a page.
Two pages are spent between Reed and Ben just sitting there awkward at the situation at hand. Interesting reading on a theory as to how the four got to be in the state they're in. Johnny gets his time to show off how much of a playboy he could really be as the other three are working out Ben's status.
The comic itself felt all kind of different, heavy and yet light at the same time. After a little continuity issue early on, the whole flavour started to wear in smoothly. Billed as a return to the pulp era, it was a good, fulfilling read. The parody/antique ads in rear were great alongside the mock posters for the Captain Gravity movies. Did start thinking about The Rocketeer though.
Monday, 3 January 2005
Scratching out the inside of the eyelid, the blood just licking its lips waiting for a crack at the opening. The eyeball itself holding back all it can to suspend the hurt of what might have been a little flea or tick or mite of sorts jumping in and having its amoral sex in the sac and fluid in the left field of vision. Practically blind. that hand needs to stop squishing back the lens.
Saturday, 1 January 2005
Elemunk scrambles the loose connections bouncing about the mind of Soon Van.
Feel free to ask questions on any topic. Or spend some quality killswitch time poking about reading the vintage synapses
Or maybe a torrid trail of job interviews?
Elementary Funk by Soon Van is licensed under a Creative Commons License. Feel free to read up on the scope of the copyright over the posts and photos.
Results may not reflect actual experiments executed