What I Buy Wednesdays PRE-SDCC TURBO EDITION

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Pretty pumped for my virginal voyage to San Diego for Comic-Con International. It kind of feels like my comics equivalent of a sweet sixteen party. I’ve ironed my t-shirt tuxedo and everything. Okay, I might not have. I mean, who irons? Really.

Anyway, the comics’ pulse has risen to a cardiologist- alerting level in the time leading up to the Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con. It’s even evident from the books. The publishers are rolling out the summer moneymakers. Everybody’s booked and stressed about whatever they stress about. It’s worse on Twitter! There have been dust ups that are honestly something straight out of the heat wave in Do the Right Thing.

That all goes a long way to say that this is a highly anticipated stack of comics for me, so dig up on what I bought Wednesday.

Blackest Night #1 (DC): I think only Geoff Johns fans get how good Geoff Johns is. I say this because I know people who don’t love his work, but do enjoy the spandexed genre fare, and it leaves me at a total loss. Because for my money, he does superhero stories as well as they’re done. His stories have scale and ethics and inventiveness and, frankly, spark. He just tells stories that matter, and the precision with which he manages the long-form stories of his universe’s corner amazes more and more with each installment. Blackest Night looks like a pretty solid bet to be the most fun story of this Green Lantern run, and it’s great to see the remarkable Ivan Reis getting a break on an “event,” book. It feels like, and is, his story to tell. This book is a totally innovative horror blockbuster that really makes for good comicery. Johns shows absolutely no remorse in killing his darlings, or, in this case, bringing them back. It’s always authentic, and it always matters. While this team has made a lot of this Green Lantern issues, they decidedly step up in the bright light of the moment. Both the imagery and the story are at a feverish pitch. Honestly, I’m just glad a comic this rad is coming out at all.

Creepy #1 (Dark Horse): I was pretty excited when Dark Horse announced this book at New York Comic-Con. It’s a shame they couldn’t convince Gene Colan to get involved, (more on him in a minute), but no matter, this comic’s friggin’ ill. Uncle Creepy brings the terror, tension, and, ah, terror in this horror anthology. Nothing I’ve read has ever made me feel more like a kid reading my uncle’s weird, seemingly dangerous comics. And Angelo Torres is fucking AMAZING. You’ll recognize his style immediately from pretty much every MAD spoof ever done. His story stands out as the high water mark for this inaugural issue, and the rest of the issue is pretty solid in and of itself. Basically, I’m just glad this comic exists. It’s throwback comics in the best ways.

Captain America # 601 (Marvel): It’s a shame Colan didn’t draw Creepy, but at least we got a horror story out of him this week. This was a beautiful out of time WWII horror story, and it’s my pleasure to report that the old dude’s still slick with a pencil in his hand. It was a big break from the recent hulabaloo surrounding this title lately, as it had little to do with the Captain America: Reborn issue that dropped as near to the 4^th of July as you can in comics, or the unconventional release of Captain America #600, both of which I covered for Best Shots. Ed Brubaker has got some real mojo going right now, and as much as I’ve loved Captain Buckmerica, this issue did well to whet the appetite for the real Star Spangled Avenger. It really was a special issue, as the cover promised, as Gene Colan showcased his historic talents for a totally different generation of comics’ fans. If the Captain America title has to go away for a few months to make room for Reborn, this was a worthy send-off.

RASL #5 (Cartoon Books): It’s as if Jeff Smith is flipping off everybody who wouldn’t try Bone because of its “childish,” trappings. This book is smart, sexy, and only growing. Smith’s proclamation that it will be moving from vaguely quarterly to vaguely bimonthly is just about the best news I’ve heard yet, because I just want more of this book.

Wednesday Comics #2 (DC): I didn’t really get a chance to celebrate this awesome new series’ debut last week, but what a success this book is in the early going. Stripping the “books” away, leaving us with the high-grade purity of comics as the world was first introduced to them looks like the most inspired move by DC in recent memory. It’s a funny bit of reverse-engineering, as the first comicbooks were folded up newspapers bound on their spine, and now the process has come full circle. The format is a story unto itself, but the real meat of this project is the talent. The comics market is, generally speaking, character driven. Even when it isn’t, it is “name” driven by highly marketed talent. The point is, it is almost always “brand” driven. There’s always recognized commodity at the center. Now, there are names on this book as big as any in comics, but due to the format, Wednesday Comics is uniquely art-driven. The canvas is the artform, in a way. The ambition alone is worthy of tremendous praise, and the story’s aren’t too shabby either. This is basically like mainlining awesome comics.

Deadpool #12 (Marvel): Daniel Way has successfully transmogrified Bullseye and Deadpool into the Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny of the Marvel U. And it is very much duck season. All told, I think this series has leaned a little heavily on Dark Reign as it’ guiding light through these 12 issues, but I’m still enjoying it. Penciler Paco Medina has had his ups and downs as far as I’m concerned, but with his comedic range on full display here, he shows why he makes such a complementary cohort for the slapstick wit of Way. And trust me, the last page of this issue will bring out your inner Luke Wilson-in-Anchorman with an exclamatory “I did NOT see that coming!”

Incognito #5 (Icon): Well Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips, I hope you’re happy. Thanks to your tremendous work on Criminal, and the masterfully repackaged Sleeper series, you’ve fully addicted me to your wares. The only problem is, (and I mean this in the best possible way), all the other stuff you’ve done has left me feeling coolest on Incognito. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with this book, it’s got all the grit and tone of the other masterpieces. My issue is that, frankly, superheroes are the least interesting aspects of the collaborations. It’s the true-crime, the human element, that I find so fully engrossing. I suspect that, among other reasons, part of the intentions with this book is that it is somehow more commercially viable than, say, Criminal- it’s always going to be easier to get comicbook readers to buy stories with superheroes, or, in this case, supervillains. I’m all for anything that will get more eyes on Criminal, though, so I begrudge them nothing. Don’t get me wrong, this is still one of the best comics you’ll find on the stands today. But it’s not my fault Bru and Phillips have set the bar so neck-strainingly high. Also, I absolutely loved Jess Nevins’ essay on the history and influences of Fu Manchu. Like a true nerd, I love comics where I learn.

Amazing Spider-Man #599 (Marvel): American Son was the first story in the thrice-monthly era of Spidey that I felt completely tied to reading as it came out. The Joe Kelly/ Phil Jimenez teaming looked like it had the all makings of a modern classic. It was timely and current, sporting a mean Dark Reign masthead, and promising to fully utilize the premier Spidey villain’s standing as king of the world. It promised payoff for long-form post Brand New Day plots, marking a huge step for Parker BFF Harry Osborn. And it had even longer-form consequences, as Harry and Norman Osborn are the biggest Spider-Man characters that don’t wear webs, and it’s fair to say that their relationship will never be the same after this storyline. It was a big story, and it didn’t need to work too hard via marketing or tie-ins to convince you. Story-wise, I really loved it. Joe Kelly wove a great summer blockbuster for the Amazing title here. I couldn’t help but notice that his take on the cast is a tad more adult than his Web-mates, but that’s something I have no issue with. The only drawback to American Son was that after the promise of Jimenez’ outstanding lead issue, he was pulled from the project, I guess to step in for Simone Bianchi on Astonishing X-Menwith Warren Ellis. You can never blame anyone for taking up an X-project, never mind an Ellis collabo, but it did end up making this story a little less than it could have been. It pretty clearly showed the drawbacks of a near-weekly comic, as a horde of artists were required to keep the training running on time. In this issue alone the chores were split between Stephen Segovia, Marco Checchetto and Paulo Siqueira. Everyone held the line, and there were no poorly executed pages, but it’s always better to have a single artist tell a story than a team of them, unless there’s some in-story framing that makes it work. Anyway, such is the nature of the beast. Nobody bats 1.000.

And that’s where we’re at! Stay tuned, the next WIBW will be broadcasting live from San Diego, likely trapped under a pile of comics or something.

What I Buy: Deluxe bank-breaking collected edition

Or: The Finely Organized Bookshelf

I’ve wanted to do this for a bit, because I accumulate a lot of trade paperback and hardcover ‘graphic novels,’ (or, y’know, to be less pretentious about it, collected comics). It’s funny, but reading a collected tpb is actually quite different from reading a periodical comic, and not just because of the length. It is a different commitment to read a full on book of one story than it is to taste a book’s flavor amidst the sprawling bevy of books I buy each Wednesday.

Ultimately, collectors be damned, comic magazines are disposable things. They are rarely built to last, unless you acquire the right and proper bags, boards, and long-boxes designed specially to house them. Books, though, are different. A book, and a hardcover especially, denotates a mark of quality that suggests permanence. A permanence, I might add, that saddle-stitched staples simply don’t offer.

So I don’t want to buy a collected edition, (or trade, or tpb, or graphic novel, or OGN, or whatever the hell package I’m purchasing), unless there is some sort of guarantee that it’ll be worth keeping. A mediocre comicbook, feh, I can afford to lose that, or give it away. But a bad trade? I’m pretty much stuck with that poor investment.

This all means that my trade-buying habits are a somewhat peculiar mix of books I know to be high-quality by reputation, books that I’ve already read in single-issue-format but enjoy so much I crave the prestigious packaging, and titles that I’ve read in part, but avoided for a period so as to be able to one day read the stories in their completed glory. Weekly stacks of books are my buffet meals, but good graphic novel purchases are exhaustively prepared main entres.

In the last few months, I’ve come into the possession of a quite a few such collections, and so, in the Merry McGuirk Tradition of What I Buy Wednesdays, allow 1point21jiggawhatts to present

What I Buy: Deluxe bank-breaking collected edition!!

The Starman Omnibus vol. 1 (DC): I was lucky enough to intern for DC Comics. My first day at the office, as I was kindly shown around their premises, my tour guide would point out the various framed covers that adorned the workplace walls. The covers ranged from old war books to modern painted classics, but the series most disproportionately represented on the walls were of James Robinson’s Starman series. “We here all really love Starman,” I was told. Considering the wide range of tastes from editor to editor, this spoke volumes.

I’ve heard the many praises of this series, but had relatively little exposure to it. I’d read the first collection, and a few straggling issues, but I hadn’t experienced the run in its full. Well DC Collected Editions had just the solution to that. After letting the trade paperback editions run out of print, a new Omnibus initiative of run-collecting HCs are being released, and the package is gorgeous. This is an edition worthy of the series critical acclaim, and I’m eager to make my way through this modern superhero classic that I’m lucky enough to have not yet experienced.

Popgun vol. 2 (Image): Look, we’re cool, right? We’re friends- I can speak my mind in this space? Well hey, one of my goals is to be able to write some good funnybooks someday. It’s on my to-do list, in permanent marker. It’s not all I want to do in this life, but, as I say, it’s on that list with the heavy ink. Well, in the service of my creative endeavors, I find nothing more inspiring than good anthology work. Everything I like about doing WIBW, the wide swath of comics’ culture you can cut on a week-to-week basis? A good anthology is like that, from page to page. Popgun is possibly the most respected antho out there, and after making my way through this volume, I can see why. There’s pretty much an endless supply of cool shit in this mega-book of comics. You get a chance to see the guys right on the fringes of broader success, something exceptionally intriguing with an older volume like this, where many of the talents have already moved on to higher visibility projects. You also just get to hear the voices of the people who want nothing more than to create strong, original comics just so that they exist, and who might move on to the worlds beyond comics before long. It is eclectic and superb, and I was thrilled to pick it up.

The Invisibles vol. 1 (Vertigo): Sometimes a series intimidates you. Vertigo series, with their 8-10 collections and “high concepts,” require a strong commitment to even start them. You’ve got to be willing to get into it for the long haul. Grant Morrison’s Invisibles series is a good example of that, because really all I knew about this book was that it was the most “Morrisonian,” work the comics’ shaman had ever worked on, and that a kid in my comicbook-history class during college (yes, my college offered such a course) once told me he’d masturbated on a page of one of the issues, per Morrison’s command, to somehow magically stave off cancellation for the series. So it wasn’t that I wasn’t curious about the series, but I was a bit daunted by it. After reading this first collection, I’m still not entirely sure I have a handle on what it is supposed to be. Morrison is somehow defining his own counterculture here, folding in some high-literature with his own sense of rock and roll revolution. I hear it takes a bit longer to get a good handle on just what’s so great about this series, but as with all Morrison projects, if you’re not confused, you’re not reading it right.

Wolverine: Weapon X (Marvel): Suckered by hyper-marketing, but wary of the studios’ capability of living up to its promise, I got a hankering for some Wolverine fare a few months back. With that in mind, I decided the time was nigh to finally read Barry Windsor-Smith’s acclaimed run from Marvel Comics Presents. This story is famed, and as such, a devout comic reader can become aware of the story and its consequence without ever having read it. I mean, I watched the X-Men cartoon, and had the Weapon X Wolverine action figure, so I already possessed ambient knowledge of the framework to this story. During a time when Logan’s origins were still deeply shrouded in mystery, classically brilliant illustrator BWS gave the first account of how the Canuck had come into the possession of his indestructible Adamantium skeleton. This story lived up to the hype. It was beautifully drawn, for one, and really played with the conflicting nature of Wolverine as a human animal. The writing, while perhaps a tad dated, was a pitch-perfect match for the art, never overpowering or overstating that which was portrayed on the page. It was a trip to hearken back to the days when Wolverine was a relatively untouched character, limited to his own occasional miniseries, and the pages of X-Men, and wasn’t the most overexposed character this side of Barack Obama.

Transmetropolitan vols. 1 & 2 (Vertigo): When a series is good enough, it leaves me infuriated that A) I wasn’t smart enough to conceive it, and B) frustrated that I might not reach the heights of creativity it represents. Transmet was like that. Spider Jerusalem is an outlaw journalist in an overwrought but familiar dystopian future, and his greatest weapon is his written voice. He uses his tool, along with indignation righteous enough to topple kings, to spread his seed of knowledge around the world like a sailor would an STD. This book is over a decade old, but the only prognostications that feel dated are the ones that have already come to pass. Spider seems like a pretty strong analogue for writer Warren Ellis himself, as his steely pessimism reads as a cover for an underlying humanity that is desperate for the world to live up to its promise. Darrick Robinson shows off his all-star talents in rendering the dirty, criminally commercialized but still charmingly diverse urban sprawl that surrounds our fair journalist. If Transmetropolitan doesn’t make you want to change the world with your words, well, probably nothing will.

Johnny Hiro (Adhouse Books): This is an example of the kind of book I have no problem buying twice. I proudly purchased each of Fred Chao’s masterful modern fairy-tale comics, and sung their praises to any and all in earshot. My socks were remarkably rocked, so when I saw this new collection, with new stories, well, it was among the easiest purchases I’ve ever made. I’ll keep buying this book until Fred Chao is a gajillionaire, if I have to.

Point Blank & Sleeper Season 1 (Wildstorm): Well hot damn were these among the finest comics I’ve ever come upon it. Much like Transmet, this was a book I’d held off on until it was cleanly repackaged, but it was very worth the wait. I’d already been loving Sean Phillips and Ed Brubaker’s collabos on Criminal and Incognito, but it was a blast seeing their work on Sleeper, the book that put them on the spot. I’ve never really been scared for a character, especially in genres outside horror, but the story of the operative so deep undercover he’s not sure when the assignment ends and he begins is powerful enough that I was genuinely worried. Point Blank makes for a great introduction to Sleeper’s dark underbelly, as WildC.A.T.S.’ Grifter bridges the gap from the superheroic world to the super-criminal one. This is the best crime you’ll read. I won’t even call this series “great comics,” I’m just going to call them “great fiction,” and leave it at that.

Mesmo Delivery (Top Shelf): Rafael Grampa is part of the Pixu gang, which is kind of like being a comics’ Crip- it offers immediate credibility and swag. He’s got a fine style, and his line packs a ton of personality within. This is a deceptively direct story, just off-kilter enough to upset the reader’s equilibrium. The obsessive detail of Grampa’s lines are downright 1990’s Image-ian, only his storytelling is crystal clear. This book is fast paced and hard livin’ with a dash of the devil in it. Guess it earned it’s Eisner nod.

Astro City; The Dark Age vol. 1 (Wildstorm): I had been dying to read this series. You don’t understand- dying. I’d read one random issue of the sequel series, and I wanted it all. But I wanted it when I could get through it on my time. It’s no secret that the book has fallend on an irregular schedule in the last few years, but none deny that the book is worth it once it arrives. There’s something appropriate about having Busiek and Anderson’s story covering comics’ darkest, most sobering hour be told in a multi-volume, series spanning epic. Astro City has always been rife with allegories and allusions to comics’ history and tradition, and it is exciting to see these esteemed creators’ take on the era in which the comics industry grew up.

Look for more WIBW: Deluxe bank-breaking collected editions to come, but for now, go break your back and bank with that roll of books.

What I Buy Wednesdays: June 3rd 2009

June 2--- The Return



Been a few weeks since we reflected on What I bought Wednesday- luckily we’ve got a whole new comics’ landscape to go over. Holler.

Batman and Robin #1 (DC): was first off, because there aren’t many creators that win multiple awards for their superhero work. Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely (or his real life alter ego, Vin Deighan) are the rare team that earn universal acclaim. They’re just great together. I was extra pumped to read this because I had just done an interview with the Quite Frank one himself for Newsarama He’s such a thoughtful and thorough interview, it’s really rewarding. Anyway the issue itself rocks, just panel after panel after page after page a constant stream of good ideas and good comic-ery. This book has a lot to live up to, not in the least because of how well the passing of the cowl in Brubaker and Epting’s Captain America book. Thing is, it has an asset Cap and Bucky didn’t- Dick was always supposed to become Batman. Maybe we would never see it, but we knew it would happen. This story is just a chance to show us that future, and there’s no reason to predetermine a ceiling for how successfully this concept might play out. Either way, like the book says, “Crime is doomed. “




The Muppet Show #3 (of 4?!? >:-[ Boom): I’m really not okay with the fact that there’s only one issue of Roger Langridge’s Muppet Show left, especially with last week’s lackluster Muppet Robin Hood. This was my favorite issue thus far, not surprisingly given the spotlight on Gonzo the Great. Langridge’s Muppets feel more like the originals than every project since Henson’s passing- that’s really what I think. The voice and writing is perfect, and I just love revisiting all the sketches, from Pigs in Space to Bear on Patrol. It all just feels right. Never mind the sketch with Gonzo’s nourish and almost-properly-spelled Gumshoe McGurk act. I love the energy of this book, and I never want it to go away.



Buffy, Tales of the Vampires #1 (Dark Horse): Speaking of energy in comics, Becky Cloonan and Vasilis Lolos might be the most energetic creators making comics right now. Both of their works’ just feel like young adulthood, almost an ugly/ beautiful manifestation. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to anybody but me, but I don’t care. Anyway I could give a damn about Buffy, but with Cloonan writing and Lolos artin’, I wanted to check it out for myself. Glad I did, because this book had all the ambiguously awesome storytelling that was offered in their Pixu book. I think this issue was kind of about boredom and luxury, but it might be a story that’s different things to different people. It’s sexy and sad and kind of damning. Anyway, it got me to buy Buffy, so they must be doing something right.



Amazing Spider-Man #596 (Marvel): Paolo Siqueira does an admirable job, but it’s hard not to be disappointed by the lack of Phil Jimenez in this second chapter of the American Son storyline. The first issue was so starkly powerful, it just would have been nice to see this project through by one artist. Alas, not all things can be. The art is still good enough, and Joe Kelly’s story is a perfect summer blockbuster. Of all the stories in the new era of Spider-Man, (I would love if we could stop citing One More Day and Brand New Day altogether, and move on) this one has the makings of being the most memorable. Harry’s just a ticking time bomb at this point, and Pete’s going undercover. Like I said, perfect summer fodder. I’m plenty on board.



Atomic Robo: Shadow from Beyond Time 1 & 2 (Red5 Comics): Somehow I missed the first issue of this series hitting the shelf. Understand, this is very unlike me. Curious. Anyway, I’m thrilled with the new storyline. I think we’d just reached our max of seeing the army-style Robo, so the pulpy Lovecraftian plotline is welcome. This book is as funny as Spider-Man in its prime, with storytelling as crystal clear as any superhero book on the stands. It’s actually so good I don’t always know how to talk about it. It’s just everything I want my comics to be.



Superman: World of New Krypton #4 or 12 (DC): I’m still loving Pete Woods’ work on this series, and given that this is the only book starring Superman, this is the only Superman book I’m buying. It’s a thrill to see him playing a true espionage role, because it undercuts all of the points of Superman haters. He’s showing his ability to inspire and be “Super,” without the luxury of his dominant powers. It’s nice to have as grounded a science fiction story as this is, because it allows us to see the Green Lantern Corps from the perspective of those they are expected to police. Hal and John are fun guest stars, and I think this book has a lot more adventure left in it.



Dark Avengers #5 (Marvel): Norman Osborn’s never been more powerful, but the eerie thing is that he’s never seemed so totally in control of his own demons, and that was makes the entire Marvel Universe such a tense place to be right now. From the early going, I think I like the adversarial relationship between this book and New Avengers more than I ever liked the interplay between that title and Bendis’ Mighty Avengers. Hawkeye went public to the media with his concerns over Osborn’s stability and general villainy in NA, and here Bendis delivers an all-too familiar response, with a deft showing of media manipulation from the erstwhile Green Goblin. Between this title and Deodato and Ellis’ Thunderbolts work, Norman Osborn has become the most compelling character in the entire Marvel U. Ares provided my favorite moment in this book, by calling his teammates out, and reminding them that, hey, from here on out, they can be whoever they choose to be. Maybe one or two will choose to take the side of the righteous, but this book will be a lot cooler if they don’t.



Deadpool: Suicide Kings #3 of 5 (Marvel): I just like seeing Wade Wilson get into all kinds of wacky hijinx with Marvel’s greatest street level characters. He and Punisher make perfect foils, and Daredevil is the quintessential straight-man to ‘Pool’s shenanigans. While I’m digging the ongoing series, I really appreciate the use of Agency X in this book, and think this miniseries has done well to integrate Deadpool into the Marvel U at large. It and the ongoing series are serving different masters. Frankly, I don’t care- Marvel can put out as many Deadpool books as they like, and I’ll probably be on board with all of them. I’m stubborn that way.



Astro City: The Dark Age Book 3 #2 (Wildstorm): Kurt Busiek and Brett Anderson can make superhero stories about just about anything, and the epic Dark Age set of books is no exception. I might go back to reading this in trades, not as an indictment of the singles, but rather as a testament to how well the series works in total.



Jersey Gods #5 (Image): Okay, so I was late to the party in figuring out just how this book worked. I was a little weirded out by the main hero’s nomenclature- because really, are we ready for a white space god named “Barock?” Maybe we are… but I’d have waited it out a bit, or something. Anyway, this issue wraps up the introductory arc of this series, finally getting together the two romantic leads; Barock and Zoe. I dug the direct way they handled all the potential Superman similarities, as it allowed Brunswich and McCaid to fully differentiate their book from the icon by stating the disparities explicitly. Barock the Jersey God is strictly on Earth for the chance to be with his love. Going forward, will a romantic relationship with part of humanity be enough to motivate the extranatural being into the role of hero? We’ll find out. This book seeks to be the perfect blend of superhero comics and romance ones, and now that the couple’s got together, it will be interesting to see how the creators continue to innovate and challenge the title, without resorting to trite superhero cliché stories. With a great look, and a story that makes that visual style necessary, this is a title I plan on paying attention to for as long as it’s hitting the shelves.



Chew #1 (Image): This was what I’d call a “buzz” book, because when Ed Brubaker is telling you a book should have been picked up by Vertigo, you’re gonna read that, and that’s buzz. Detective Chu is cibopathic, which means he gets psychic impressions via food consumption. That’s the hook I’d heard, and that was a decent one, to be sure, but to me it’s the other part of this story that makes this book so intriguing: it seems that the world’s lost its mind over bird flu, and as a result all fowl is outlawed, making deliciousness like chicken a controlled (read: narcotic) substance. See, to me it isn’t Chu’s kind of cool power that makes this book worthwhile, it’s the backdrop that utilizes that trait in to the strongest degree in-story. Concept’s good. Art’s good. Writing’s good. Comic’s good.



Astonishing Tales #5 (Marvel): I’m buying this book for Mojo. I refuse to make any bones about it. C.B Cebulski’s Punisher/ Wolverine story has its moments, and I like the idea of the 2020 Iron Man, but the only thing that’s satisfying me month in and month out in this series is the hilarious New Mutants meets Mojo meets modern Hollywood storyline. I don’t mind reading the rest of this book for the potential of finding another gem, but I would personally prefer to see only one or two ongoing stories in this anthology, and a smattering of shorts and vignettes. I thought the ongoing serials were what killed Marvel Comics Presents, and I hope this series avoids the same mistakes, and sustains as fertile grounds for fresh talent.



Skaar #11 (Marvel): I’ve just got such a soft spot for Ron Lim’s style, and I’m glad to see him on a book like this, because it suits him well. Hulk’s bastard son has descended on Earth to hunt down his jade, gigantic dad, and to show him the what’s what. I like the new wrinkle of a meeker alter ego for Skaar, as it is nice to see him saddled with the burden of his parent’s issues, as we all are. Pak has made the Hulk mythos his own, and I can’t wait for the day that we get the Skaar/ Amadeous Cho ongoing he must have up his sleeve. It will be glorious.



Ultimatum #4 (Ultimate Marvel): Look- hate the sin, not the sinner. It’s not my fault that Jeph Loeb is writing a miniseries that turns the tide on my beloved Ultimates line. And no, I don’t particularly want to support this series, or the concepts that drive it, but goddamn it, I was there at the beginning of Marvel’s 21st century, collection- focused publishing initiative, and goddamn it, I’m going to see it through. I read this issue completely unmoved, and really felt like it was just a level of a platform video game, but I bought it with the green American money, so I guess I can just stuff my opinions in a sack and let Loeb laugh all the way to the bank. Just know, sir, that I’m shaking my clenched fists towards the sky, ruing your base villainy.



Ultimate Spider-Man #133 (Ultimate Marvel): I just wanted to make sure I read that other book so I could fully appreciate this one. I think it’s been this to many people- but hot damn if Ultimate Spider-Man isn’t the book that kept me in comics, and challenged me to begin to analyze what I thought made the comics I enjoyed good, and why I was so drawn to them. I’m sad to see this title come to a close, but not really since it is soon to be relaunched as Ultimate Comics Spider-Man. But hey, we gave Conan O’Brien his moment of reflection when he moved from Late Night to Tonight Show , so I’m going to take a second and go over just what this iteration of the Web-Head has made it so important to me for a decade now.

Understand, when Ultimate Spider-Man launched, I was as close to Peter Parker as I’d ever been in my life. I was fourteen years old, he was a shade over fifteen, I had a girl best-friend that I had aims to make a best-girlfriend, as did he. I wasn’t the biggest loser in school, but I had my share of foils and nemeses. So did Peter. I just didn’t have powers, and until the very last page of the first issue, neither did he. I’d read comics all of my life at that point, and Marvel Comics to boot, but I’d never followed Spider-Man intently until that series. Suddenly, it was the most anticipated book I read each month. It all clicked- I finally saw what made Spider-Man the transcendent character he was. His everyman-ness, his resilience, his ability, well, ultimately… Amazing, it all came together. He was funny the way I tried to be funny, he was embittered in the teenage fashion I was, I know, I know, that’s how every Spider-Man fan in the history of ever has felt, that’s what makes him an “everyman,” but still, I was profoundly affected by thi s book.

That was ten years ago. The decade of one’s teen years into one’s young adulthood is funny because, within the confines of one’s mind, it is one long narrative of a constant central character. I think of myself as pretty much the same person as I did when I was 14; my inner monologue sounds the same, my life-goals are pretty much the same (although that might say more about who I am at 24 than who I was at 14), but, of course, I’ve acquired all the life experiences a 14 year old only thinks he has. In any case, it’s surreal to think that month in, month out, during that entire era, this book has been there, and been a model of consistency. Sure, people can gripe about the Geldoff story, or the Carnage one, and claim that the title fell off in quality, but I would contend that those people simply outgrew their need for, and maybe thereby their ability to understand and relate to this book.

The lesson of this book has been pretty much a constant- Peter, for all his capabilities, is someone whose desire to be a great agent of change has been outclassed by the world’s ability to stay exactly the way it is, despite the efforts of the young and idealistic. The only thing that’s really happened is that Peter’s world has become more complicated. He has more battles to fight, and maybe he’s gotten better at managing the struggle, but the struggle has also gotten better at managing him.

I hope the revamp of this title doesn’t change too much of the book’s core strengths. I hope I haven’t outgrown it. The ability to read the same book, chapter by chapter, for 10 years is one of those qualities exclusive to comics.

Maybe there’s nothing profound to draw from the decade of this run, maybe it’s just a book I’ve read for a long time. But I can’t help but feel like when this book started, I was that Ultimate Peter Parker, and here at issue #133, I’m the aged Peter of the 616 Marvel. It’s just a bizarre sensation… and it feels a little too much like growing up.



Until next time-

May Showers

Big Shots rain down on the NBA... and 'nets.



May's a mercurial month. In New England after April, it isn't so much that winter ends, it's that summer begins- unpredictably- and then goes back to being winter for a day. Then that reverses. And so on and so on until eventually the cold days aren't that cold, and the warm days are uncomfortably warm, and that's when it's June.

It's also a month of note because the NBA playoffs happen then. For the most part, I've watched basketball intently for every night of the last month. It's been exciting and exhausting. Combined with a relatively slow month of comics it led to a lot of frenetic in-game Twittering, but not much substance. In any case but it's time for some links. Afterwards I'm going to vent about sports. Because that's what I do.

I try not to spotlight the same creators too often, as I think the gets who don't get the pub need the spotlight more, but with Geoff Johns, I can't help myself. He's just really good at teasing out plot points over just long enough for them to be impossibly urgent and drawn-out. He's a trade-friendly evolution of Chris Claremont, only instead of the X-Corner of Marvel he has the entire DCU at his fingertips. The way Legion of Three Worlds is streamlining that mythos while interplaying with current continuity is fascinating. Plus, George Perez is no joke. I mean, I make no bones about it, I'm a sucker for both these guys' work, and I am a sucker for Johns' take on the Conner Kent Superboy. Before that issue I was totally ambivalent about Adventure Comics, now it can't come soon enough. Like I said, I'm a sucker.

Despite my primary specialty in comics' critique, within the medium I try to be as "general interest," as I can. Adam Beechen and Trevor Hairsine's Killapalooza, with a super-group ripped from Behind the Music that moonlights as hired mercenaries, was a fun example of this. I really think anybody who spent an hour of their life watching the saga of Journey, or the trials of Jon Bon Jovi's hair, would like this book. It's just funny.

Another general-interest comicbook was the Spider-Man: The Short Halloween one- shot by Saturday Night Live cast members and writers Bill Hader and Seth Myers. I knew Hader was a comics' guy, he's been at conventions and used to frequent a store I worked at, and I think SNL is as good as it's been in my lifetime right now, so I was happy to spotlight their issue. It didn't disappoint, but it didn't "wow," me either. Based on merit alone, I'm not sure this book would warrant a follow-up assignment. It's not that the story is bad, but Spider-Man could be replaced by just about any costumed hero in this story, and it would be no different. The sales might tip the scales, though, and I wouldn't be against seeing more from the pair, or Kevin Maguire. I would only hope they get a little more into Spider-Man, and let the situational humor grow from there.




After working for Laura Hudson on the too-beautiful-for-this-world Comic Foundry magazine, she was kind enough to invite me to do a piece for her newest venture Comics Alliance. I'd stalled a bit to try and find the right angle to tackle for my first CA foray, but when Archie Comics announced Archie's marriage, I knew what I had to do. Due to the peculiarities of my fundamental being, I decided I would make the case for Veronica over Betty. Now, when the nuptials were first announced, Archie Comics hid the identity of Archie's bride, but by the time I'd written my piece it had been revealed to be in accordance with my preferences. Now, I suffer no delusions that this story will be told and Archie will go on married to Veronica, or that Betty won't crash the party somehow, but I'm pretty pleased with the case I made for Archie's bachelorhood. Now, as far as in real life choosing between the good girl and the bad, I don't know if I believe my case. But then, if it were as easy a choice as everyone would like to believe it wouldn't be such a classic love-triangle. Or maybe I just like to pick fights. Who even knows.


So that's what's been up in comics. But the thing that has dominated my life, again, have been a playoffs so addictive the FDA might have to get involved. Despite the ongoing drama of the piss-poor officiating, it has been a season of athletic studs taking teams on their backs' and seeing how far they can go. As a guy who likes comics, I'll say it; 'Melo, Superman, Kobe and LeBron have been downright superheroic.

Despite my rambling last post, I'm more than just a homer with regards to sports. It really sucked to see the Celtics loose how in the fashion that they did, but these playoffs were worth the price of admission. And as much as it sucked to see the Magic beat the Celtics in Game 1, it was worth it to see them in Game 5's late-surging win. It was especially gratifying for me, because Stephon Marbury had his two best games in green those games.



Starbury, like Corey Dillon, and Randy Moss before him, is the classic example of the media-driven "athlete as a bad-boy," malcontent that this town absolutely loathes until they prove themselves to be productive. Everybody hated Randy Moss when he got to New England. He was going to be a step slow, they said, and he would disrupt the proven team chemistry. Dillon too. He was the Bengals' all-time rushing leader when we got him for practically nothing. Dillon won a Super Bowl and Moss set the record for receiving TDs in a record-setting offense. They became heroes, but began as villains.

Well Marbury had the full rap sheet- from a trade-demanding early career, to an embarrassing sexual testimony in a harassment case, and ultimately a season-long benching. Now, I'm not saying that he didn't have his share of responsibility in all of this, but he was a productive player, making a lot of money while sitting on the bench. It was a dysfunctional move for a dysfunctional organization. And this was after the slate was supposed to have been wiped clean with new management. Well whatever, he was cut loose eventually and wanted to sign with the Celtics, as they had become the strongest team of veterans in the NBA. It had been the Pistons before, but this was now the organization, along with San Antonio, that productive veterans wanted to be a part of. After a year out of pro basketball Marbury was rusty, but also humbled.

It showed. He was really trying to be a team player in a way unlike ever before in his career. He was doing it to the detriment of his own game, and what the team wanted out of him. But he was trying. This was a guy who'd averaged over 7 assists a game for his career, but was playing 40 minutes a game. He was out there for maybe 15 minutes a game now. He just couldn't get right. It was a hard combination of not having the legs to be the explosive scorer he was used to being while also trying to relearn his killer instinct. Everyone was waiting for him to have an impactful [that's not a word, but I can't get over how many people use it, so I'm going with it here] game where he went for 2+. He had a handful of big shots in games, but the big game? Didn't happen.

Game 1 teased it. The Celtics, after going down big at the half, got themselves within a Ray Allen three of winning that game and who was there to thank? My man, @StaryburyMarbury. He'd had a crazy streak in the third where he just couldn't miss, and it was the energy that got them, not the win, but the hunger for that game back. It wasn't much of a legacy, but it was the game people had been waiting for.



Until Game 5. The Celtics were down again, late, and Steph kicked it into gear. He had 12 in the fourth quarter, and this time Ray's big three sunk, and the Celtics won the game. It was a huge game, it gave the Celtics a 3-2 advantage in the best of seven series, and was as close as the Celtics got to defending their 2007-08 Championship. The C's lost Game 6 in Orlando in a game they just gave away, an Game 7 at home in a game they didn't show up for. The team had been eking out wins without their low-post foundation and defensive x-factor Kevin Garnett, but each one had been a titanic struggle, and in Game 7 it finally showed. In fact, it probably showed in Game 6 when the team let slip away a fourth quarter lead of their own. But they'd battled valiantly, and as reward were spared the embarrassment of getting their asses handed to them by LeBron and the Cavaliers.

I'm really grateful to have seen the Celtics last win as champions, because they really played like it in that win. And Steph led the charge. Who knows if he'll resign, or even be a productive NBA player going forward, but following his success with vested interest is one of those unique rewards offered by following sports. Given the consequences they engender, there are countless narratives to be enjoyed. And who doesn't enjoy a good tale of redemption.



The Magic have turned out to be great foils for the Cavaliers, which anyone who had looked at their head-to-head record was saying before the series, and given the decisive 3-1 lead they took the other night, they should be heavily expected to advance to the NBA Finals. But as long as the Cavs still have the best player in the series, never mind the best player in the game, I still expect LeBron to take the next 2 wins and advance to his second Finals appearance.

Because, I mean, Kobe's waiting there. He had to fight through West Baltimore's finest Carmelo Anthony, the forgotten dark prince of King James' draft class, and Conference Finals mainstay Chauncey Billups, and the rest of George Karl's rejuvenated Nuggets. It took the Lakers 6 games, but they did it. We can't have just half of those Kobe/ LeBron puppets playing for the trophy, and Dwight Howard is too damn big to be a puppet, so LeBron has to make it. Every real NBA fan wants it to happen. We want this argument settled. We don't care who's better; Pau Gasol or Dwight Howard. This is an MVP thang.

In any case, we'll see. It's been a monumentally memorable postseason, thanks in no small part to this guy's TNT video-



Back to your regularly scheduled programming:
...

So Amazing

The 2009 NBA Playoffs are in Full Effect, and I'm not gonna make it


There's nothing like the playoffs.

Finally, that 7 game Bulls/ Celtics series is over, and I'm drenched with sweat. I never want to gamble again. And I definitely never want to bet on a game I care about. My heart can't take it.

I'm not a man of great means, but I manage to make the time for things that matter to me. Such things, as one might imagine, as comicbooks and playoff games. Real fans go to playoff games. I'm sorry, but if you enjoy one of the major American sports like baseball or basketball, you make a point to go to games. After a few years, though, memories regular season games blend together into larger, amorphous impressions of the specific season and era of the team. This is probably a factor of thousands of hours spent watching Sportscenter, and millions of printed words read covering daily gamers, (not to mention talk radio, or... dare I say... blogs). The memories are just hard to hold onto.

Not so with playoff games.




I can rattle off the specifics of every playoff game I've been to in my life. As a beer vendor, I bore witness to the 2003-04 Patriots beating the co-League MVPs in consecutive weeks; first outlasting Steve McNair and the Titans in a game played with a windchill of -10°, then the next week seeing Ty Law absolutely decimate Peyton Manning while securing a Super Bowl berth. That AFC Championship was probably the most significant sporting event I've ever attended, for a couple reasons. One- it was the first, biggest ballgame at the House that Drew Bledsoe Built, Gillette Stadium. New England will never host a Super Bowl, not until some mad scientist invents an effective weather control device, so while I can imagine Gillette hosting other AFC Championship, there won't be another first one. And Ty Law won't pick off Peyton Manning three times.



There was a weirder reason this back-to-back week of games was significant, too. At the Titans game I worked the lower level, right at the 50 yard line, (which was incredible and I totally don't mean to gloat). It was remarkable that people were still drinking at this game. I mean, scientifically speaking alcohol lowers your body temperature, but realistically speaking there's no way anyone can stand sitting outside in subzero temperatures on a January night in Foxborogh unless they're drunk. Anyway I'm in this prime serving area getting people wasted while watching at the snaps, and I go back to the service bar to reload my tray. I'm on my way back when a tall guy with a goatee asks me for a drink. I'd been told pretty sternly to ID everyone I served, and being the son of a bartender, wasn't one to shirk the duty, except I knew this guy. I looked up, and it's Tim Wakefield.

Which would have been the coolest moment in my life, except for one thing-


It was January 11th, 2004. The last time I'd seen Wake was October 16th, 2003. No one blamed Tim Wakefield for being on the losing end of that Game 7 of the Red Sox/ Yankees ALCS. In fact, he had a pretty good chance of being named Series MVP if they won that game. He shouldn't have been in the game until Mariano Rivera was out, but then again, Grady Little was not necessarily blessed with a well-timed hook. Nevertheless, the last time I'd seen Tim Wakefield was at the climactic moment of the greatest heartbreak of my young life, and there he was buying a beer from me at the very next playoff game in the New England area, just taking it in as a fan, and enjoying the Boston sports scene. Tim Wakefield is the fucking man.

Earlier that October I'd gone to my first ever Red Sox playoff game. It was Game 4 of the 2003 ALDS against the Oakland A's, and the Red Sox didn't stand a chance. They didn't stand a chance all series, incidentally, after having gone down 0-2 in the best of 5 series. As would become customary in the coming years, the Sox would battle back with the hearts of champions. They won Game 3 with a dramatic Trot Nixon home run, and if they could take Game 4, they'd have Pedro Martinez ready for Game 5. But now it was Tim Hudson, who would place 4th in Cy Young voting that year, (just one place behind Pedro) squaring off against the 12-9 5.15 ERA soon-to-be professional bowler John Burkett. Again, the Sox didn't stand a chance.

Or they shouldn't have. Weird word had gotten out that day. There were rumors that Hudson had gotten into a bar fight the night before. He might have bashed a guy with his guitar like El Kabong. Either way he was out of the game after an inning, and it was on John Burkett to nip and tuck that whole game, going 5 1/3 without, as I can remember, a single swinging strike. I can't remember if that was even true, but it sure felt that way, 'cuz that guy pitched the game of his life. I mean, he still gave up 4 runs, but it was the game of his life.



Wakefield came in and mopped up for a few innings, (of course) and David Ortiz had his first signature playoff hit with a huge double off Keith Foulke in the 8th. They won the game, and looked like favorites going against the Yankees in the ALCS. That didn't happen, but I still hold to this day that it was coming back from that 0-2 deficit to that A's team that gave that team the gumption it needed to pull back from the 0-3 hole they'd dig themselves in the 2004 ALCS. So to me, even though it was just a game where a couple junkballers tried to keep it tight, it is just about the most important Sox game I'd been to in my life.


Or it was. Last year I went to Game 4 of the ALDS against the Angels, and Jed Lowrie drove in Jason Bay in the 9th inning to close out the series. Jon Lester was awesome, and it was probably the most exciting baseball game I've been to in my life.

I've been to countless games, but it is the ones with tangible consequences that really illicit the starkest memories. Last year, I basically moved back to Boston just in time to see the new-look Boston Celtics come together. I was living in Brooklyn when the monumental trades were made, and I remember going from just confused by the Ray Allen trade, to indescribably elated at the Kevin Garnett trade. I tried to explain it to my non-basketball loving friends; it was like going to bed with one team, and waking up with a completely different one. Everything about them was different, from the style of play to their League- relevance, to their viability as a champion. I didn't want to move back when I did, but knowing that I was going to be able to watch this unprecedented season was an acceptable silver lining. The New Big Three didn't disappoint, delivering the most dominant regular season I'd ever watched in total. They made me see basketball differently. I went to a couple games, and eagerly awaited the playoffs.

I wanted to be smart. I wouldn't blow my load on the first round matchup against the feeble Hawks. No, I'd wait for the prospect of seeing my beloved Celtics take on the most electrifying athlete of my generation in LeBron James. THAT would be a worthy thing to pay for, I was sure.

The Celtics famously struggled in that first round, but despite the series going 7 games, there was never any doubt to who was the better team. They advanced, and awaited the Cavaliers.

I got tickets to Game 1 of the series. It was the most intense game of my life. I love all the sports I love, but basketball gets my blood pressure up in a different way. It's just so high adrenaline. It is also a sport that can be officiated somewhat subjectively, which is not necessarily healthy for someone who argues as vociferously as I.

It was the ugliest games I watched in my entire life. But it was a win.


LeBron had my favorite double-double of all time with 12 points and 10 turnovers. Paul Pierce and Ray Allen combined for 4 points. In fact, Ray finished scoreless! It was like a Bizarro- playoff game. The only guy who played like a superstar was the Big Ticket himself, who scored 28. The game ended 76-72, but the only number that mattered, trite though it might have been, was the Celtics' 1-0 lead.

The Celtics went on to become champions. I didn't get to any more games, because as I said, I am not a man of great means, and as soon as the Celtics beat the Cavaliers in a Game 7 showdown classic between Paul Pierce and LeBron James the Celtics became the hottest ticket in town. I didn't have any regrets, but I did feel a little cheated, in that I think I ended up at the only game of the entire postseason that didn't have 1 highlight for the end-of-season reel.

This season, I was determined to not make the same mistake. As the season drew to a close, I held off on even going to a few games, thinking myself wise and prudent in my waiting for the playoffs. Kevin Garnett would be back by playoff time, and there were sure to be more than enough games to catch then. Two nights before the season ended, I made my decision to buy tickets to Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals, the second round. This, I assumed, is when the playoffs would really start.

The morning after I bought my tickets, the news came out. Kevin Garnett would be out for the playoffs in their entirety. It was like someone punched me in the stomach, stood me up, punched me in the balls, then took my wallet, and then slept with my girlfriend. It sucked.

It sucked for all the obvious reasons. It sucked because it was evident that we would not have an honest shot at defending our title, first against the Cavaliers, then against the Lakers. It robbed us of our opportunity to get in the way of the LeBron/ Kobe 2009 Finals that have seemed so inevitable to everyone who was sleeping on the Celtics. It sucked because you knew there were only so many years for this team to play together, and all the sudden this year wouldn't be one of them. It sucked because the team had worked so hard to keep the ship afloat in KG's absence, and it seemed almost unfair to ask them to continue to shoulder both the load and the expectations without their true superstar, and defensive tone-setter. And it fucking sucked because, dude, I had already paid for the tickets!

Buying tickets that early, you're not really buying tickets. Regular box-office tickets don't go on sale until the team officially qualifies, and the game is scheduled. But if you're too anxious to wait, you can use online auction services to buy seats from season-ticket holders who are guaranteed their tickets. Sure, you pay at a markup, but it's worth it to assure yourself of the seat.

Well when KG was out, the second round didn't seem like such a sure thing. In fact, it seemed like a goal. Not for the team themselves, of course, but for me. Just make it the one round, don't make me look like an asshole! I felt guilty just feeling the way I did. And that was before the series even started.



Then it went on to be the greatest playoff series anyone can remember. It didn't win a championship, although it did star a team with championship heart and pedigree. It truly was a phenomenal series, not only for the longevity of it and the unprecedented overtimes, but for the remarkable shots that were hit. Ben Gordon got as hot as anyone's ever seen anyone. Derrick Rose hit leaner after leaner in traffic. Kirk Hinrich hit tough, deep threes. Rondo hit some jumpers, and damn near averaged a triple double on creaky ankles. Paul Pierce, who struggled uncharacteristically from the line, won a game all by himself, working himself to his spot and sinking make after make. Glen Davis showed himself to be a legitimate big in the NBA, mixing in-traffic layups with a nice, consistent midrange game. Kendrick Perkins was a beast, and again, no one seemed to notice. Where Ben Gordon got hot as a pure shooter, Ray Allen elevated his game and showed the difference between a hot shooter and a great one. After a tough Game 1, Ray was unstoppable. He showed the world what willed greatness looked like. It was an unforgettable series.



And it damn near killed me.

I felt like I was in the same boat as Danny Ainge. I had the biggest vested interest a fan could have in a series without owning it like Mark Cuban, or having your house put up as collateral on a bet. All I wanted was for the series to end, and it had to be the longest, most grueling, up and down series there ever was.

By the time we got to Game 7, I was spent. After sinking money into those seats, I'd effectively gambled on the games. I didn't stand to win anything, really, or at least anything I hadn't already bought. But I did stand to lose. It was an impossible situation. In the end, going into that last game, I just prayed that the team be champions for one more night. One more display of greatness, and I'd be content. Of course, this had to echo what they were feeling going into that game. Not the 'being content' part, of course, but it was evident through the way they played that they were not going out like punks under any circumstances. They played the Bulls long enough, and hard enough, and eventually those impossible shots Ben Gordon and Derrick Rose kept hitting started rimming out, and the better team prevailed.

Now I get my Round 2 game. The team is limping, of course, with Rajon nursing maybe both his ankles, Pierce barely able to jump off the ground, KG looking dapper in suits, and Leon Powe's career in jeopardy after another major knee issue. The Magic are coming to town fresh off a few days rest, hoping to legitimize themselves as title contenders against what's left of the champs. I think the series will be pretty easy to predict- if the Magic can shoot over 43% on threes for the series, they'll at least take it 7 games, if not take the series. They are not the same kind of threat as the Bulls, because they are not the same fast-break team, and they don't have the athleticism to wear down the Celtics like Chicago did. Perkins should make for a good matchup against Dwight Howard, provided they get called evenly on fouls. Turkoglu and Pierce have had some good matchups, and while the Celtics don't have an answer for Rashard Lewis, the Magic don't have an answer for Ray Allen.

I get to go and see it, and be a part of the experience myself. I can't be any more honest in saying, it's all I ever wanted.

I wrote the Internet

My Threads on the Web















It's been a while since I did a comprehensive wrap-up of my contributions to the info-tapestry-net, so that should be remedied. I must say, I don't think I've ever been as satisfied with the books I've been able to cover. That is mostly because I don't think there has ever been a better, more diverse array of comics available in my lifetime. Of course, being a pretty normal comicbook reader means that the plurality of what I buy is superhero fare, but it's the other genre stuff that usually comes out the most exciting.

Also, the new WIBW has allowed me to give a little look at everything I get, which allows me to more fully develop my features for Newsarama. As a critic for a news' site, it's my obligation to cover the most important books of the market, and the ones that I feel would reacher greater success with greater attention. With WIBW, it is just an unapologetic take on my personal taste in comics, not always a barometer of quality. Long story short, WIBW is what I like. Best Shots' are things I think you would like.

Well, for the most part anyway. Kevin Smith is counter-culture god, and earned a rep as a Hollywood-type who legit loves comics. Most of the work he's done has been nothing short of top-notch. He swung that influence into a gig with his homeboy Walt Flanagan on Batman Cacophony, and you can see what I thought of it. As I posted the negative review, I couldn't help but think of MoviePoopShoot.com in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, but this was an honest assesment on what I thought was really an underqualified artist. Others might disagree, but for me it just didn't ring right. Maybe it wasn't a case of weird comic-industry nepotism, but I just felt like there had to be other artists who would have killed for the chance to work with Kevin Smith that could have done a better job. But that's why critiques are subjective.

I really have little to no problem with renumbering, especially if it garners a cool aniversary like Thor #600. I've said it all before; I love Thor, and as such am predisposed towards loving things about Thor. It's funny, but I think only comicbook fans can understand how frustrating it is to have one's favorite character go unpublished and left by the wayside for years on end. Editorially, I understood the wisdom in both waiting for the right creative team to become available and for the best time to promote the book within the shared universe and the publishing line, but it still sucked. Actually, it is probably similar to how Cleveland Browns fans felt when the team skipped town. Only when Thor came back, the book was really good, so it all seemed worth it. Probably Browns fans don't feel that way.

Now, if I love Thor, there's a good chance I like vikings. I suspect Ivan Brandon knew this with Viking #1. Okay probably not. But I am psyched to see vikings growing as a genre. There's no reason to let Brian Wood have all the fun on Northlanders. As I've said, the whole book is just beautiful, and it seems to me like it will be the biggest breakout book at Image since Cassanova. I see that book going far.

I like Black Adam because he's a character that exists right between Namor and Dr. Doom. He's a villain with a god-complex, or a hero with a villain complex, or something. Anyway when DC did its villain month I was happy to see a Black Adam Faces of Evil. His tragedy is so effective because of its melodrama, making each storyline he stars in to an act in his great saga.

I don't know if I could have enjoyed any convergence of interests more than BOOM!'s The Muppet Show. I don't even know if I have anything more to say about it besides I snicker at each and every page. What more could a man ask for?

I loved Groom Lake as soon as I read it. Then I heard the Wordballoon interview with Ben Templesmith, where he shared that it was his choice to add the cigarrette smoking flourish to the IDW's brand of aliens. That, my friends, is comics' genius.

I was so impressed with the Messiah War Prologue I don't know what to do with myself. Do I have to go back and read Messiah Complex? Does this mean I have to buy 6 X-titles a month again? I feel dirty and confused.

I dug Killer of Demons, and then found out from artist Scott Wegener that the book was actually done a few years ago, only to be released now. Color me impressed, because to me Wegener's art there is just about as strong as his stuff on Atomic Robo.

Some sequels take forever, and Marvels: Eye of the Camera is no exception. Busiek is such a great writer of superheroes when he's on his game, and I think he is here.

I did some reporting from New York Comic-Con 2009 for Newsarama, covering panels for Dark Horse's Creepy and Aspen Comics. Both companies seemed to have some cool things up their sleeves.

Mark Waid writes superheroes well, which is why it is interesting when he decides to write villains, as in Irredeemable. I'm eager to see if Waid can live up to the promise of the strength of his concept, here.

With Muppets, Irredeemable, and even the Incredibles comic, BOOM! was rolling for me. Or it was until Cars: The Rookie. I don't know, maybe that property is just among Pixar's weaker forays, but I had a hard time coming up with reasons to tell someone else to read that comic. I actually hate giving negative reviews, because I know that almost no comics get made without some serious loving intent put into the process, but I also can't shirk from honest assesments. Maybe some kid out there will totally love the Cars movie, and this book will be his or her bridge into comics- I just don't see it.

Some books just need to exist on the fringes, and Destroyer and Haunted Tank are good examples of that. I got pwned on the Newsarama boards for not realizing that the Destroyer was actually an old Marvel character, which was embarrassing in a way that only a nerd could understand, but I think I'm over it. I had held off from doing a full HT review until the series had wrapped, because I was really curious about how the series would read from the wide angle. That turned out to be the right call, because I think in the end the finale was the best issue of the series, and like The Dude's rug, really brought it all together.

I wasn't sure what to expect out of Lovecraft, but that was what made it exciting. This was basically a structurally sound historical meta-fiction piece that set the man Howard Lovecraft in a Lovecraftian horror story, (which, come to think of it, is more succintly put than I ever managed to get in my review, alas...). I'm no expert in the ways of the Cthulu, but it was a well told comicbook, and that was enough for me.

Rarely have I been more excited and inspired by the first issue of a series than I was with Warren Ellis' Ignition City. Steampunk evolved into space-frontierism just seems like an idea that should have been there all along, and Ellis is casually introducing it to us. This guy just consistently challenges the boundaries of the comics' creative community, and ever once and a while he belts one out of the park to remind us.

I couldn't help but weigh in on the big farewell issue for Geoff Johns and Dale Eaglesham on Justice Society of America. And apparently I couldn't weigh in fast enough, because not only did I let a totally uncouth typo out on the first goddamn line, but I also had a total brain fart and created my own American in my mind named "Norman Rockafeller," who I can only assume mainstreamed iconic but propaganda like art designed to enslave suburban minds. Or maybe he's related to this guy. Anyway I loved the run by the creators, and I thought the issue was a fitting farewell. I was also pleased with review itself, which furthers my theory that better books make for better reviews. I totally invented that theory.

Finally, I was thrilled to spotlight MC Esoteric's Serve or Suffer album. As rewarding as it is to give my perspective on the biggest releases in comics each week, ultimately critque is only a small offering to contribute to the broader discourse. Spotlighting a local hip-hop artists' high concept Silver Age inspired album was an opportunity to clue in a large audience to something I knew they would have had no exposure to otherwise. Chances are, if you are reading my JSA review, you were already going to read the comic, but an average Newsarama reader isn't likely to be able to find hot tracks like Galactus Trilogy or Steve Rogers on his or her own. And if you're a Newsarama reader, you really want to know those songs. Believe me. In any case, I've never watched the traffic on a story so intently as I did on that one, and I really hope that it was able to connect with the people who needed to read it, because it was a cool treat for that not-so-rare someone that loves his comics as much as his iTunes.


And that's pretty much a wrap to date. Somewhere in the throes of these NBA playoffs, Bruins chase for the Cup, early part of the Red Sox season, and beginnings of Patriots training camp, I expect I'll have some thoughts longer than tweets to collect on my other great obsession. But only if I can avoid writing my own version of Bill Simmons articles, because now that he's on twitter, I'm not sure I'd be able to fly under the radar. Or something. I'm going to be smart from now on and link to my stories as they go up, because the more time I let pass before I do one of these, the more likely I am to totally forget to link to one, and thus lose it to the vast void of the Interspheres. And that shit won't fly.

Now, to close with a fun little ditty, here's the video Esoteric was kind enough to put together to better share his sound with the nerd-republic. Give it a listen and I guaran-goddamn-tee you'll be humming this shit all day.