the irreverence deity

She is smiling.
Today is Alan Moore's birthday. Moore is undeniably one of my seven holy idols, and he is also a new grandpa. With his projects past, present, and future hitting the myriad of media sites of late, this is a positive enough day for fans like moi.

To make matters even more curiouser, I just received the callback for a new position with a local security firm, meaning that I am apparently employed once more, thankfully. Orientation, uniform fittings and a cutting of my lion's mane will dominate the next couple of days, and by the great Coyote am I ready to get my hands dirty again.

Work on my stories are coming along well enough, but starting to feel the squeeze of soon to be looming deadlines. My confidence is rock, however.

Let's dance.

comicspace

I just killed my account there, after three years, three galleries of my old stabs at art, 355 "friends" and over a hundred bulletins.
The place is dead. So many clueless folks (read: starving artists) trying to sell their wares to all the other clueless folks (read: starving artists) therein. Everyone broke. So many dreamers, unwilling or unable to put any degree of thought into what they do, what they want.
I have known persons there who have jumped through circles, getting locked from their own accounts and begging to deaf ears for assistance, meanwhile spammers are invading the site ad nauseum.

Another potential landscape, ruined by lethargy. Seeing too much of that sort of thing, everywhere. Easier for me to just pull in my reins, further compartmentalize, and save my dreams for something worthy of my time.

R.A.D.I.O.

nilskidoo endorses Sergeant Zero. You should too.



And by the by, R.A.D.I.O stands for Research And Defense Initiative Organization. Damn fine acronym. Damn fine.

The Road To God Knows...

The Road To God Knows...
Written & Illustrated by Von Allan
Edited by Sam Boswell
Published by Von Allan Studio

This excellent new and original graphic novel by the Canuck artist Von Allan, The Road To God Knows... is astoundingly poignant. And anyone familiar with my reviews knows that "poignant" is not a descriptive term I freely employ. But I was so thoroughly pulled into this story of young and gawky teenager Marie and her complicated relationship with her mother, Betty, that I read the work in one sitting and found myself thinking over its implications for a length of time afterwords. Such envelopment is for me, a true accomplishment.

The story opens with Marie and her mother returning home from the hospital, where the mother had just been discharged after a stay that concerned certain emotional problems. In true slice of life fashion, we learn so much about Marie's lonely world, stuck in the middle of her separated parents while failing to find acceptancel at school. Her salvation comes through her budding friendship with a neighbor girl, the two embarking on a money from-excessive-chores quest for the sole purpose of purchasing tickets to a rare but upcoming pro wrestling exhibition. Marie, awkwardly finding some levels of solace in the fandom hobby. Her interests in the pseudo-sport of professional wrestling, as well as in science fiction, all serve as distraction for the girl, desperate for an escape from the growing problematics of dealing with the psychologically damaged Betty. Betty means as well as any otherwise loving parent, but with the painfully realistic difficulties of struggling for control under the weight of Schizophrenia are seemingly beyond her own power, much less the coping abilities of her teenage daughter- who is already stuck in an embarrassing and frustrating age group. No easy solutions, and no outlets, beyond just silently going on.
This is indeed a very touching, very dramatic tale. Von Allan's dialogue is never at all unrealistic, and the everyday characters presented are fully-formed enough to cause the reader to wonder at what persons may have inspired such situational drama, such quietly desperate burdens. This is the kind of story that wonderfully, moodily, is all too real. Such a rich and honest portrayal of mental illness and the effects such can have on the many persons stuck in the tortured position of loving and/or living with the inflicted.
And the art is absolutely as effective, from smart page constructions sporting fluid faces and gestures to an appropriate pacing that intuitively slows down the camera whenever a forced introspection is dutifully beckoned from the story itself. This movie is shot in real time, with all of the world of nuances that the unbiased camera is always eager and willing to capture, beit for the amusement or judgement, of others. while the overall narrative is a sea of calm before the storm sensation, the few moments of violent action are called into vivid imagining with all the more clarity. And shock, like with ripples in the stillness of waters.

A fantastic and self-aware work, I am thankful in my own way to have come across it. Available through Von Allan's website as a free, downloadable pdf copy, as well as through the Amazons, I advise against going for the computer screen version alone however, as digesting a wholeheartedly brilliant book such as this will fully compel you to want to support the work more viscerally.
Most definitely one of the finest graphic novels of the year, I think.

http://www.vonallan.com

Duality and Consalamentum

I have received some remarks lately via email questioning the wisdom behind keeping this here pseudo-illustrious blogger/blogspot as a continuing professional effort while also including posts of an obviously more personal nature in the mix as well.

The way I see it, is that my jalopy is all-inclusive. I hide nothing, neither from friends, collaborators, or signers of cheques. I see no reason, feel no impulse, for two-sided intent where regards anything under the blinding sun. By my own interpretations of Objectivism, the disinterest in adhering to any and all dualities is a precept of the most common order. Loving what you do becomes naturally its own emphasis, renumeration or none. If you do not love what you do, then why do it? Why be less than your aim? And why hide behind the ongoing and tiresome sales pitch that is modern Western living?

Am I manic-depressive? Schizophrenic? Individualistic? Jokingly, I once told friends that I would consider myself a nihilist, if not for my own disbelief in labels.

Meanwhile, persons who conceal themselves disgust me greatly. Denial of self is worse than sin.

Non serviam

A good day. A better/bitter person.

The folks behind Dimestore Productions and the Self-Publisher's Association are soon to relaunch their magazine, Self-Publishers!, and I am elated to announce that I will be reviewing and writing for it. So keep the reviewables coming!

I may well have found a new day job, working security once again. I expect to receive final word in the next few days, and zounds do I need it like a heroin junkie's fix of ze horse. If she pans out...then next stop, a place to live.

On a bad note, a good friend of mine lost his mother yesterday. Shite like this happening to salt of the earth people...it really keeps everything in perspective. Having lost my entire family over these madcap years, the only possible words I can offer to those who suffer such tragedy, is to always remember the future. No matter what, do not let the past, or the present, enslave you. Non serviam, and remember the future. Remember every single blessed thing that could/should/would happen, someday. Let the possibilities and potentialities pull you on, when everything else seems hellbound determined in holding you back, holding you down. The future is big enough for anything, for everything.

All else is cannon fodder.

observances from six feet down and out

It is insanity, the power instilled by the faith of a good woman.