I like the sound of this. "KopBusters." Kind of an anti-Cops. A former drug cop punks, and busts, crooked and overzealous cops. Just the kind of puncturing of intimidation this country needs. You can see a trailer and background story here at Raw Story.
Very softcore, and about as Euroslick as it gets. (of course, UberEurotrash actor Udo Kier is in it, and you can never have too much Udo) And it's incomplete and much of it is in French. But anyway...it's sort of a nice try...I still like Crepax's version better.
A mass of hands press on the market window Ghosts of progress Dressed in slow death Feeding on hunger And glaring through the promise Upon the food that rots slowly in the aisle A mass of nameless at the oasis That hides the graves beneath the master's hill Are buried for drinking The rivers water while Shackled to the the line at the empty well
This is the new sound, just like the old sound Just like the noose wound, over the new ground This is the new sound, just like the old sound Just like the noose wound, over new ground
Listen to the fascist sing "Take hope here War is elsewhere You were chosen This is Gods land Soon we'll be free Of blot and mixture Seeds planted by our Forefathers hand" A mass of promises Begin to rupture Like the pockets Of the new world kings Like swollen stomachs In Appalachia Like the priest that fucked you as he whispered holy things A mass of tears have transformed the stones now Sharpened on suffering And woven into the slings Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress Taking today what tomorrow never brings
This is the new sound, just like the old sound Just like the noose wound, over new ground Ain't the new sound, just like the old sound Look at the noose now over the burning ground Ain't it funny how the factory doors close Round the time that the school doors close Round the time that the doors of the jail cells Open up to greet you like the reaper Ain't it funny how the factory doors close Round the time that the school doors close Round the time that a hundred thousand jail cells Open up to greet you like the reaper
And it's a good tune! You can tap your foot to it. Behold Alexandra Penney, one of the least sympathetic victims of the economic collapse. This wealthy victim of Bernard Madoff, entitled from birth and also the author of How To Make Love To A Man(which I assume proves she has knowledge which will soon prove useful), and, most appropriately, onetime editor of Self Magazine,has been running to any media outlet she can to bemoan the sudden loss of privilege she will soon endure. I saw her on Nightline earlier this week and now she's on the Daily Beast. Here is a typical example of the horror she will endure. I sewar to god, this is not a parody, this is not the Onion, she's real and she's serious:
I’ve lived a great and interesting life. I love beautiful things: high thread count sheets, old china, watches, jewelry, Hermes purses, and Louboutin shoes. I like expensive French milled soap, good wines, and white truffles. I have given extravagant gifts like diamond earrings. I traveled a lot. In this last year, I've been Laos, Cambodia, India, Russia, and Berlin for my first solo art show. Will I ever be able to explore exotic places again?
Since this happened last Thursday, I have barely left my apartment, I haven't been out for dinner; haven't bought groceries. Can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal. Food, which is one of my most favorite things in the world, has become meaningless. But I look on that as an upside.
Yesterday, I took my first subway ride in 30 years. Dennis came with me to show me how to get a MetroCard. The world looks very different from a crowded Lexington Avenue No. 6 train.
Well, if I were here the first thing I'd do is go to Ebay with those Hermes handbags. Good Christ. Some of us have somehow endured having none of this, ever. The subway? The poor thing has to ride the subway? Oh my god, how horrible. I haven't even had a car since 1998. At some point she also bemoans how she will now have to iron her 40 white shirts herself.
And most of us don't get to sell our story to the media, either.
This is pretty typical of the comments it received, and I couldn't agree with this one more:
It is quite possible, while my head steamed with anger at your obscene lack of perspective, that I missed the line where you regretted you would no longer be able to donate to the charitable causes that support single working mothers. Or the ones that feed starving artists. Perhaps you make those sacrifices, but I didn't read you lament losing your ability to help those who face the challenges you have overcome.
What balls. But then, you have to give him credit: he never once pretended to care about Bush, or soldiers, or Americans, or anything but his own benefit, and never stopped smirking. And shouldn't a villain smirk when he's won? And to our discredit, there he sat not pretending he was anything but vile and up to no good, and we let him.
Bush never liked to admit a mistake. Neither do we. And we'll find some way to look back on these years and think we did the best we could do.
Though they may love the idea of killing one last crucial part of America on their way out, even Dick Cheney said this will assure the party's demise(which is why the White House is on the bailout side). Is hurting Americans--on the behalf of other nations--just something they enjoy too much to stop?
I was raised in the South. I briefly worked in South Carolina, at a music instrument warehouse, following my first stay in Chicago. And I saw the effects of no union presence on the work environment. Pathetic pay that can be cut anytime. A pension plan removed, retroactively, with no notice. Being forced to work overtime every single day, and being paid the very same wages, and no recourse to get the overtime one's been cheated out of. Because as workers have no rights, there's nobody to defend them.
Psychologically, it felt like slavery; that was the effect on the workers, who'd already been raised from birth with the idea that they had no rights and someone giving them a job was doing them a favor. Which is the situation that suits the wealthy Southerner well--you can do as you like and nobody dares complain. Maybe we should let the South secede again for good, as they've already shown they're ruled by selfish traitors who don't give a fuck about this country.
Funny thing about this is that I lived in Chicago during the years he's been governor, except the past year. And suffered the economic misery that he did nothing to help reverse. (You're all in a recession now; in Chicago it began about 2002 and didn't end) And until now, like a lot of people there who just call him "Blago," I could never pronounce his damn name. Now I can.
I expect soon everyone will be able to. That must be some consolation for him. But what I loved seeing in this especially was not only the possibility(still unconfirmed) that it was Rahm Emanuel who dropped a dime on the governor when a deal was attempted(which would be brilliant of Emanuel--distance him, drive out a political liability, and also drive out corruption in the process, exactly the way you want to approach a bribe solicitation):
ROD BLAGOJEVICH said that the consultants ... are telling him that he has to "suck it up" for two years and do nothing and give this "motherfucker [the President-elect] his senator. Fuck him. For nothing? Fuck him."
I mean, what was he thinking? He needed the Obama administration more than it needed him, which is to say it didn't need him at all. Evenif they were corrupt, this wouldn't have worked; they would have gained nothing by becoming party to it. They have the White House. It's the pettiness of this big toad in a little pond that is breathtaking. The governor actually seemed to think he had leverage in this. What he didn't realize was that Obama had much more to gain should he fall.
But you know, it's not really shocking to me, because I met people like this--had them as bosses--many times when I lived in Chicago. Some were people who, quite literally, took an interest in making my life hellish, as any reader of this blog(and you don't even know the half of it) knows. It is a deeply sick, corrupt, ugly place, and it really does breed thugs like this that rely only on their power to prevent people from informing on them. I don't even mean political figures. Sorry, but it's true. It's a vile place that stole a lot from me, both materially and spiritually. And I'm glad that's become impossible to ignore.
And in addition? The Charles Alverson-written Story of OH! (my second collaboration with him)Pray this is not your next job interview. (Or, depending on your tastes, pray it is, I guess...)
That's 53 pages of free comics. You're welcome. Don't read these at work.
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The beginning of the article I link to sums up Horowitz best:
It goes like this: D-ho, as the histrionically neurotic former 1960s far-left radical turned far-right propagandist is sometimes called, was supposedly irritated by something said by a former '60s comrade who is now a liberal, and responded to his former comrade that if the New Left had won, people like him (i.e., sellout liberals) would have been shot. The former comrade responded that if the '60s left had won, David Horowitz would still be in it.
I mean, Jesus, at least you can say Dennis Miller's just an entertainer with bills to pay, and dismiss his sleazily Dick Morris-like whoredom to Fox News.
Actually, it's not so surprising; there was plenty of humor in the Kingdom, for instance, and in most of his films. Even if it's usually dry as a bone and in a sea of grimness, but I like that. And I love Von Trier's films, except Epidemic.
But last night I saw the Boss of It All, and again, very, very dry. But absolutely hilarious. I don't feel like writing a review, but I do highly recommend you watch it. In structure, it's actually an oddly old-fashioned comedy. Even the blowjob scene. (Yes, you read that right. But it's as tasteful as that can be)
I don't usually, but I also recommend the DVD extras, especially the "mockumentary" about the incredibly skilled actors. Who, apparently, are just as funny in character when improvising as when scripted.
Oh, and did you know Zentropa, now under its regular title of Europa, will finally be coming out on DVD this week from Criterion? Click below to pre-order.
I do remember that in the 1980s, when I was absorbing most of my primary influences, including Howard Chaykin, Dave Sim, Gilbert Hernandez, and Alan Moore, only one of those was working on corporate properties and the appeal of it was partly how he separated it from the other properties. Now the ambition is to tie everything together in one brain-strangling mess of continuity that damn well keeps anyone new from picking up comics. But what you don't find a lot of is creators whose full ambition is the creation of comics, their own, in which no one has tights maybe.
Throughout my professional lifetime, I've watched talent go to Marvel or DC and occasionally other places, simply so they could work on Jack Kirby's characters. And do "their" version of Kirby. This includes people I consider friends. Again, it's one thing to have a good OMAC story in mind, but I'm talking about people whose greatest dream in life is to make their careers continuing Kirby characters. I don't think there was one of them who didn't believe their work on his characters somehow honored Kirby's contributions to the field. I only spoke to Jack twice in my life, but one of those times I asked him about this.
In fact, Jack did not feel honored. He wasn't upset about it, and didn't complain (like others I've known in similar positions have) that he hadn't been hired instead to work on his own characters. He was saddened. Why? Because he hadn't spent his career just working. He'd spent it creating, and constantly coming up with new characters and new creations wherever he had the chance.
What saddened him was that message – create your own, create your own, create your own - wasn't the legacy his career was leaving for new talents instead.
"Eternity with Beelzebub, and all his hellish instruments of death, will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me and this pencil." - E. Blackadder, 1791 Questionable
words & pictures from John Linton Roberson SUPPORT US AT PATREON!