And now a treat for Halloween--My favorite version of Dracula, by Philip Saville & Gerald Savory, which I first saw when I was 8(as mentioned here), starring Louis Jourdan. Any adaptation of Dracula will always be one removed from the original, because the original is an epistolary(told through journal entries, letters, and that kind of thing). This one however manages to be closer to Stoker than any other version. And is quite scary. Also kind of hot. This film has been somewhat of an obsession for me since I was a kid.
It's BBC 1970s, which means it's film outside, video inside. But like many, I think horror works better when it looks cheaper, and in any event they do a fantastic job with the means they have. And I actually like the video effects. Also excellent are Frank Finlay as Van Helsing, Judi Bowker as Mina, Jack Shepherd as the best Renfield since Dwight Frye--and maybe better--and my first movie crush, Susan Penhaligon as Lucy Westenra. Quincy is played with the worst American accent you've ever heard, but try to look past that. Check it out!
Creative Advice Don't look down. You want to, I know. And it's understandable. You feel you should take in the whole experience. It would be easy and quick to look down, surely.
And if you don't, how could you really understand the yawning immensity you're overcoming? How can you really feel the awe you should so you know how brave you are, how great your achievement is while you're having it? If you're really as brave as you think you are, you should be able to keep your footing anyway, and if you can't, isn't it all a fraud? If you don't look down then it's just a walk like any other, and couldn't anyone do that? But you're not trying to prove anything. You decided to walk across that rope, that's all. So don't look down till you have.
I saw ABC's very thorough adaptation of Steinbeck's EAST OF EDEN when it was first broadcast--in a censored and shorter version--when I was 12. And I had the goddamn biggest crush on Jane Seymour for a while after this, till she killed that with DR. QUINN. Hell, you tell me who looks better in those kind of clothes, and only Helen Mirren has a better evil smirk. I think I've always crushed on both for many of the same reasons, come to think of it.
But Jane Seymour as Kathy is one of the sexiest villainesses ever. And she is pure, total evil in Steinbeck, quite explicitly--but here you come to understand(without justifying) why she goes down the road she does, even if she does do evil things to get there. It's more nuanced. And to this day this miniseries is one of my favorite things.
I only saw the better-known Elia Kazan version with James Dean much later, and could not understand why it was considered a classic except that it was one of James Dean's only films. And I still like Sam Bottoms (sadly now deceased) better as Cal. The whole cast is great, and the sweep and scope of the thing is mythic and yet down to earth. This one more or less IS the novel, while that other one is about the last sixth of it, and not really very good.
So, let's see. Was Mike Brown shot for being black and teenage in front of a paranoid Ferguson cop?
Oh no, the cops say, it was for stealing cigars when the store called us about a robbery.
Except the store never called them about said robbery, nor now do the cops claim he was involved in one. And Officer Darren Wilson was unaware of Brown being connected with any robbery. All he saw was a young man with no respect for traffic planners and took action, brave fighter for law that he is.
And it took a whole week of their making war on their own citizens for having a problem with their having shot a young man who hadn't hurt anyone to even float that bullshit story, or indeed even a pretense of needing to explain why. But then they had more, because we all love a story. Robbery didn't take? Well...
Tomorrow they'll say they didn't kill him at all, because like all black teens he is in fact a zombie. Or a vampire. Or a zombiepire.
And I just think about how cops take it when you keep changing your story like you have no respect for their intelligence.
Meanwhile, now that the militarized, reactionary Ferguson PD is off the job and the state PD are there to protect the citizens, here is how things are tonight. Here are said citizens, protesters, guarding a local business from being looted.
So: I'm in the Catalog for the "Wedekind's World: Theater, Eros, Provocation" Exhibition in Munich (Updated) So I mentioned there was other news connected with LULU that I'd tell you about.
Last week the exhibition manager of the Deutsches Theatermuseum in Munich asked me for permission to use two pages from LULU in their exhibition catalog for a show they're doing on Frank Wedekind, the author of the LULU plays. Obviously, I said yes. See below for the pages they asked to use. One is from the story, another is a character design sketch from the appendix. (click each to enlarge)
A pretty big retrospective, it seems. This is rather an honor, even if I'm only a tiny part of this and won't get to see it. LULU
may not be well-known here, but it certainly is in Germany, so to be
included at all in a show about Wedekind is extremely flattering. Of
course, it may have some bearing that there's not much more of him represented
in comics--mine is the first and only attempt to do a full comics
adaptation of the plays. Other than that I only know of Alan Moore and
Kevin O'Neill's brief two-page treatment of the conclusion of PANDORA'S BOX. But hey. I'm grateful they thought of me for whatever reason.
exhibition takes place in late July to mark the 150th birthday of
Wedekind (July 24), which I had no idea was coming up. The title of the
exhibition is "Wedekinds Welt - Theater, Eros, Provokation"
(note: site is in German), and apparently it will be covering many
versions of his work over the last century, as well as works inspired by
his, such as Guido Crepax and his fixation on Louise Brooks, the most
famous Lulu of all.
And speaking of weird fixations on legendary sexy actresses, they say they will be speaking to some degree (not at length, I'm a minor one of many much more worthy adapters of Wedekind covered) about the connection of my version of Lulu to the great and beautiful Italian actress Stefania Casini. As most of you know--because I never shut up about it in interviews--I based my version visually, and to some degree spiritually, on Casini. Not precisely--I think I only relied on photoref directly for one or two panels--but just attempting to catch something of her look and attitude, imagining how she might have played the part. I even had the pleasure of telling, and thanking, her recently, and she's...flattered. Which is something I think is kinda neat. Anyway, there's something for people who think I never talk about anything nice. And looks as though all that money I spent on those years at the Goodman School at DePaul went to something for once. Well, not really. Oh, and here's the latest inked (pre-lettering & greys) page of the next chapter.
Update: just got the exhibition catalog. Very nice, big book, and I'm on 2.5 pages of it I can't read, because it's in German! But a great honor nevertheless. Also nice to be right next to Guido Crepax in the book.
Artemis 2005-2014 Many of you might recall my cat Artemis, whom I've posted about here from time to time. Some of you were kind enough to help me financially to get her to a vet during my long period of unemployment a little while back. (and again, thanks to each of you)
So I should tell you that last Monday, Artemis died after a month's illness, starting with a mysterious lump appearing suddenly on her head. She soon after stopped eating--she had an appetite but threw up if she tried to eat, so would only go to her dish, think about it a moment, then walk away sad, getting thinner and thinner. I had to put wet food in her mouth myself for the last 3 weeks. She'd eat it then, but wouldn't on her own.
The vet was still putting her through tests when she eventually dehydrated last Monday, going into gasps all morning. I stayed home from my day job, trying my best to comfort her. The only thing she liked at that moment was being brushed, so I just kept brushing her. I don't think her fur was ever smoother. She would take no food at all. But she still hung on.We already had an appointment for her later that day, but had managed to move it up. She tried. She fought to the end. There had been more than a few scares with her over the years, some
(most, really) very recent, and she'd said "fuck you" to death each time. Artemis was
the Cat That Wouldn't Give Up. She had just recovered all her weight and fur from last year's illness, and had never been so happy and content in her life. Then one day, a lump out of nowhere at the base of her poor little skull, because if there's a god he's pretty damn cruel, I guess, and all that soon went away. The damndest thing can change in an instant. We put her in the carrier to take her to the vet. And then she suddenly died, just like that, when I left the room a few moments to visit the restroom before we left. And so the stupidest thing possible kept me from being with her when it happened. She didn't even really look dead. I had to keep checking that she had really stopped breathing. She just looked confused that her body had given up. There was so little left of what had once been a very big and healthy cat. We buried her next to Sunny. It was one of the worst days I remember since...Sunny died, really.
Artemis when she was still big and healthy, late 2012, Berkeley CA.
And so, along with Sunny just a little over a year ago, both the cats I came here with, who have been with me for years, are dead. They were just about the only friends I had in my five years in Seattle, and Artemis had been with me since 2006 in Chicago. Sunny was somewhat old, older than I had known. But Artemis wasn't even ten.
And she was the most devoted, loving cat I've ever seen. An ex-girlfriend once remarked, "Artemis doesn't 'love you.' She's 'in love with you.'" I used to call her my little stalker.
The one-year-old Charlie is still about, of course. And he's pretty sad. I tried to stop him, but he saw Artemis' corpse and sniffed at it before we could cover it. I don't know how a kitten takes such a thing. I'm hoping he's still young and shallow enough to let it pass. They had gotten very close.
I still expect to keep seeing her.
She was the sweetest, bravest and gentlest cat I ever knew
and I don't feel I ever appreciated her as much as she deserved. And
I'll miss her, hard. ___________________
Your Random UK Comedy for Today #18: Beyond the Fringe (Cook, Bennett, Miller & Moore, 1964)
"I want you to lay down your life, Perkins."
"We need a
futile gesture at this stage. It will raise the whole tone of the war."
"Get up in a crate, Perkins."
"Pop over to Bremen."
"Take a shufti."
"And don't come back."
"Goodbye, Perkins. God, I wish I was going too."
"Goodbye Sah! – Or is
it au revoir?"
Mystery Equals Power: A Couple of Thoughts on Sexism Watching Terry Jones' MEDIEVAL LIVES Watching Terry Jones' MEDIEVAL LIVES, a particular fact in the "Damsel" episode (here's the video cued up to the pertinent bit, but I recommend watching it all afterward below, embedded) I was struck by:
So to recap: if a husband was unable to perform for his wife, his frustrated wife could in turn seek redress in court, and the husband would be subjected to examination--of whether his member could function--by "respected women." (before you start panting, this would generally mean "quite aged") This implies an openness and matter-of-fact attitude about discussion of sex. Rather than some untouchable mystery, it would be treated as something as normal as eating or working, and to be dealt with as practically. Indeed, the medieval era has always been known to be relatively open on the subject, certainly far more so than the Victorians or even the Renaissance (who, Jones reminds us, were the ones who gave us witch-burning, and mostly as an overt means of destroying women's status in society). And--partly due to a shortage of labor for a long period after the Black Death--women had greater rights at that time than they did at any point afterward until very recently. In times sex can be discussed openly and freely, women usually have more rights than in times it cannot. In times when women's rights are ebbing, it tends to be fiercely repressed: the Victorian era would be a particular example. Possibly because if talk about sex is freer, the possibility of men being criticized for their sexual shortcomings is also greater. And going with that, the lessening of an inherent assumption men should be in charge. The subject of sex is censored in societies only to tighten the hegemony of men.
Printing the Legend is Lying: A Small Rant About 24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE
I happened by chance to come across an old Guardian article that kind of annoyed me. Or reminded me of an annoyance, when I first saw 24 HOUR PARTY PEOPLE. Tony Wilson, remarking on the film: "It's
all true, it's all not true. It's not a fucking documentary." And even in the film this attitude is directly expressed, to favor "myth" over facts. The "print the legend" quote from MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE--one of the most deeply cynical classic films ever--is used as justification. Now, I don't mean to pick on a dead man here. But I guess I will, because this reminded me of some problems I had with this when I first saw it in 2003. One
major one is: of course you would favor the myth, Tony, because it makes you look like
such a damn hero, walking around as handsome
and witty Steve Coogan in those lovely coats and scarves. These bands
never would have made it but for you and the story of Manchester music
is all about you even though it doesn't include the fucking Smiths. (whom I don't like, but I certainly don't deny their importance) Which is even mentioned at the end. Just the same, the sense is given throughout the film that somehow what you're seeing is the dominant current of What Was Happening In Manchester In That Heady Time. So it has its cake and eats it too. It leaves one with the impression this is THE story, while excusing itself for its many lies.
all about just Wilson, Joy Division, and the Happy Mondays who nobody cared
about five minutes after they crashed and burned and whose music (unlike Joy Division) has
influenced absolutely no one in the long run. And there's nearly
nothing about New Order, who MADE Factory Records. I don't care for them either, but I recognize that, as with the Smiths, I'm in the minority--they were and are huge.
Wilson is portrayed as the dashing hero/martyr/fool for Manchester music. You'd almost think he was its mayor. Bullshit. Joy Division was made by themselves and Martin
Hannett. If it hadn't been Wilson it'd have been another middleman
parasite. Wilson was important and was good to his bands, but let's
remember the film is a self-admitted prolonged piece of egomaniacal
puffery, and, like all Michael Winterbottom films, is
shallow as a puddle while posing as intellectual and postmodern. It's not a bad film, as a film, if you're just looking for something entertaining. But it poses as more.
I would also venture that the myth is what people already know. Why not surprise us instead with what happened? Surely that was sometimes interesting.
Your Random UK Comedy for Today #17: Peter Cook/Dudley Moore- "The Making of a Movie" (1970) A classic parody of just about every British period drama film of the late 60s, including BECKET, ANNE OF A THOUSAND DAYS, A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS, etc. And a rare clip, because this is the little that survives from Peter Cook & Dudley Moore's show NOT ONLY...BUT ALSO, most of which was erased by the BBC, along with a lot of other archive material, for reasons too low for understanding.
Rik Mayall 1958-2014: A Few Favorites to Remember Him By One of the--no exaggeration--titans of British comedy, and one of the funniest men of the last 30 years, Rik Mayall, has died, and I am sad we will see the People's Poet never again.
(did you notice the WARRIOR cameo?)
Without Rik Mayall much of the comedy you know from Britain since the 80s might never have happened. You owe him far more than you know. And again: Mayall was pretty much always funny. ALWAYS. Humor sweated from him.
Most people today will probably be posting more YOUNG ONES material. So I'm posting this stuff instead. First, one that most Americans may not know, with Ade Edmondson: THE DANGEROUS BROTHERS. I think this is every sketch.
Then a character many might not know was Rik Mayall: Lord Flashheart. Don't look at him too long, ladies, or you may end up pregnant.
Rest in peace. It's a cliche, but 56 really is way too soon, especially given he'd already cheated death in 1998. At this writing they haven't said how he died. But no matter how, very sad.
In what was at the time basically a theocracy, the Catholic Church having power to do as it liked. Ireland's history is an example of how that looks when that happens. First some ranting. At first I assumed the church had at least baptized these children--I assumed that all the Church really cared about was more souls for heaven--but actually, no--that would necessitate records, you see. The Church is even colder and more horrible than I thought. They didn't even bother. They didn't care. The children born in these places and taken from their mothers--who were sentenced to indentured servitude to the Church as penance--were starved in open sight of everyone. It's just nobody cared to stop it. They were isolated, abused, neglected, starved and allowed to die, and then treated no better than garbage, and from a Catholic POV, the nuns condemned each of these children to Hell. Not something I believe in, but they do. And they did so, knowingly. Children that even from the harshest point of view were guilty of nothing. Show me how much more evil you can get. And the Church thinks it can't be blamed for this. Why does the Catholic Church think it still has special legal rights and the world requires the Church's consent to prosecute it? Becket is dead , his rapist-shielding head is still split in half, and the Middle Ages were over long, long ago. The Church is standing on the same ground as us all and is just as culpable as any of us would be. Oh, and this site was originally discovered in 1972. Only now are the cops interested. But it was known. There are many more. It was known, all along. The sites were called "angel plots." As far as I'm concerned, the Catholic Church is an irrevocably corrupt organization that seems best at committing, aiding and hiding evil, and I wouldn't cry if the bastards were sued and/or prosecuted out of existence. Few would nowadays except maybe Bill Donohue.
And as for pro-lifers: don't even try to say shit to me again about a "culture of life," or rant about your version of dead babies. Here's real dead babies made by the biggest pro-life organization of all. Stitch that. So, to familiarize you with what they did to these young women: Here's THE MAGDALENE SISTERS, in its entirety, and I warn you, this will hurt. No fucking tin whistles here.
Deconstructing Comics: A Talk in Berkeley with Deb Aoki, Jason McNamara, Tim Young and Me (podcast) In April, Tim Young, visiting from Japan, made a stop in the Bay Area during his "Tim Across America" series of podcasts for the mighty Deconstructing Comics in which he talked to various comics folk as he went...across America, like it says. Anyway, when he came here and wanted me to be part of a round-table talk, I suggested as a meeting place Sack's Coffee in Berkeley. Because it's friendly, its coffee and pastries are nice, and best of all, it's on my block. I didn't tell them that at the time, I think. Tim had myself, Deb Aoki, and Jason McNamara talk about everyone's favorite bête noire, the monster that is corporate comics. It was a far-ranging discussion and, as seems usual when I'm on the show, went quite long. I had a lot of nasty things to say about DC as usual, but a number of nice things to say about Marvel, as it happens. A number of other subjects touched on as well, including that crazy asshole who had a successful comics Kickstarter and then lost his mind, and filmed himself burning the comics he printed, apparently because he'd miscalculated shipping costs and somehow this was the donors' fault. I did not know about this prior to the discussion. A bit shocked. (BTW - If you want a worthy project to donate to, though, try this one) Check it out here.
This is just a photo I got from here of Sack's--none of us are in it. Pretty though, isn't it? ___________________
Some sketching for an upcoming sequence in LULU, in which we see the return of the mysterious sleazebag Schilgoch, last seen in the prologue of Lulu's childhood in book 1 (now available at Amazon and Comixology), here homeless and asking for stuff. Click images to enlarge.
Also, he's her dad. Maybe.
Some new and nice developments with LULU by the way, which I'll tell you about later. Still hard at work on THIS SICKNESS #8 and will post more--watch for it. ___________________
New Inked Pages: Lulu Chapter 4 p. 67-71 Some new inked (before lettering and greys in the published version later) pages from the upcoming LULU chapter 4, to be published in THIS SICKNESS #8. This I intend to have out this year, by fall. Really. I say it enough times to myself and it shall be true.
As mentioned before, it will also include SUZY SPREADWELL and UNCLE CYRUS. This is why you haven't seen much blogging lately--hard at work, but full disclosure: also got sidetracked for a week by a Game of Thrones binge. Yes, that has sucked me in too.
Anyway. Here. New artwork. And if you don't yet have your copy of LULU Book 1, get it at in print at Amazon or in digital at Comixology. Which are kind of the same thing, but either way... Also, having recently become the last person on earth to buy a smartphone, I'v enow seen what it looks like on a phone. Comixology's presentation of it is excellent; you have to read it to see what I mean. I'm very happy with it, and I'm not happy with anything. Oh, and I got engaged. Back to work.
40 Years Ago: National Lampoon's Missing White House Tapes (1974)
An absolute classic from the golden age of comedy albums, which in my opinion is a lost art that should be recovered. I like comedy better as just audio, personally. Starring Chevy Chase, Gilda Radner, John Belushi, and many more, with writing by the great Michael O'Donoghue and others. Long out of print, here in its entirety. Enjoy.
The truth is that one reason I'm glad NOAH came out is that the Flood story ranks with Job in the "if you say so" category of Bible story. As in, this is what is being worshiped, in stark relief: this concept of a murderous psychopath god. You begin to think of things like the Frankenstein monster and suddenly it's good his creator made him more powerful than himself. Why is this concept of a god at all associated with the idea of "good?" This is just a generic, boiled-down-to-the-essentials version of a Bronze Age god: Zeus without anything but rage. Gods then being things you placated and bargained with. "Love" was not at all part of the idea. Gods were basically personifications of the things in nature that could destroy you, primitive human. Jesus is a retcon. Jesus also stood against everything THAT god stood for. Is this ever noticed? Who did the customs he was rebelling against come from? Supposedly, Yahweh. Daddy. And I wonder why it's surprising that god would then crucify him before he could say or do too much. If you believe in the redemption, you could, I suppose, take the resurrection as Jesus' triumph OVER that god. As myth it makes more sense. (I think the gnostics believed something like this) But I mean, why would someone worship this except out of fear? "Oh please Mr God please we love you just don't drown us again please" "I might have drowned you all, but look! A jolly rainbow! I know how you all like rain now. Oh, see you weep from happiness at the sight! "The rainbow is an absolutely real and eternal sign of my promise. Here, hold it." Something doesn't have to be worshipped even if it does exist, incidentally. Even if gods were real, that doesn't obligate anyone to "worship" any of them, except in the way you might "respect" a mobster.
But certainly not ones that act like indecisive writers, tearing up draft after draft, but in this case generating planet-wide body counts. Far from being perfect, the god of the Old Testament is an easily surprised(God in the Old Testament is surprised many, many times), rage-filled improviser who has no idea what he's doing.
I'm not saying whether there's a God or not. I do not know. I am not inclined to think so. It's not a question I choose to wrestle with or argue about--to me it's like being asked what my favorite sports team is. I hate sports, so none of them. I don't care. For this reason I find the Dawkies as tiresome as any fundamentalist Christian. And make no mistake, I find both very loathsome.
But I am interested in the manifestation of that in the world, which does exist: religion. What people believe, and why. I make characters. I like to know these things. And I believe an acceptance of this flavor of god, and a belief this kind of god represents "love," is certainly illustrative of a serious level of cognitive dissonance. It is reflective of a disturbing mindset. If that is God, it is unworthy of worship. If that God exists we should be terrified. If that God existed he would be no better than Cthulhu. He would be Cthulhu, really.
Then consider this is usually considered the most child-friendly story in the Bible. I certainly recommend reading the Bible. It undoes the case for religion very well by itself. Check out the story of Jacob sometime, especially as Robert Crumb depicts it. Nice guy.