Torment
Paul Schoonerman
168 pgs
Goomba Graphics
An autobiographical take of a 7 year-old, left alone in the world when his mother dies of cholera. He spends three years in an orphanage, struggling with his demons, until he loses all four of his limbs in a freak accident. Drawn by Schoonerman using only his teeth, inspired by the style of Bill Keane. "Horribly depressing, and sickeningly melancholy! Four Stars!" - Spinnin' Indies
Forgotten
Randall Charles
48 pgs
Charlesmain Press
A 9 year old has to grow up in a hurry when his entire family is killed in a gas tank explosion. While tearfully going through the wreckage of his home, he discovers his mother, father, and older sister had all been struggling with depression, and were all self-medicating through alcohol and drunken fist-fights. Drawn entirely on the backs of discarded Christmas cards, then scanned into book form. "So sad, it borders on unreadable. Best comic of the year!" - Grum Reviews
Buried Memories
Chuck Hein
210 pgs
Threefrog Graphics
A desperately lonely middle aged man in a dead-end job with no family or relationship prospects discovers why all his pets have committed suicide. Hein calls it 'George Gately meets Aleister Crowley.' "Even more Heartbreaking and miserable than 'Open and Shut.' Chuck has outdone himself this time!" - Books R Good
High Life
Pauline Endive
168 pgs
SPS Comcis
An 8 year-old girl watches her mother fall apart, trying to come to grips with an abusive relationship. Drawn in Endive's trademark stick figures, this book is entirely without dialogue or narration. "Virtually incomprehensible, yet I know if I were to understand it, it would make me very very depressed. Comics Perfection!!" - Ditto Comics
Eight and a Half Minutes to Liftoff
ZacK
512 pgs
Beat the Press
An 8 year-old boy is dying of dysentery in 1930s Brooklyn. ZacK takes us through the last eight and a half minutes of his life, one page per second. Scribbled into ZacK's arm with loose staples, one panel at a time, then meticulously photographed. "This is by far the saddest book I have ever read, and I have blinded myself with acid so that it will remain the saddest book I will ever read. Sad, Sad, Sad, Sad. Capes are for babies, THIS is what cartooning is all about. One Hundred Stars." - Stanley Littleman, 'Broken by Life; A Homosexual Iguana's Tale'
Showing posts with label Low-calorie frozen novelties. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Low-calorie frozen novelties. Show all posts
October 3, 2009
October 2, 2008
August 22, 2008
June 25, 2008
Ok, um...
...Not only did Runaways #30 tie up every loose end, have some true surprises and give Molly multiple winner lines, it made me tear fucking up. This story arc has been so drawn out that I had forgotten what we were even waiting for, but Whedon managed to make it all come back and make sense, and give Chase one of the tenderest comic book moments in recent memory. Despite my spaz-out yesterday, I must remind myself that I did name this blog and the podcast after a piece of dialog that Joss Whedon wrote for this very series, and that he did have the characters pretty well nailed. Which I think made the delays and clumsiness of the set-up that much more disappointing. Anyway, there's really no doubt that this issue will be my First or Last of the Week for the next podcast, so I won't go into it all here, but suffice it to say I am relieved and now almost sad to see Whedon go. Stupid comics fans, you can't win with those bastards!
So, moving on, before the guilt of not doing the work I'm supposed to be doing takes over--as the few of you who know me personally know ten times over, I have a back issue for which I had surgery in December, and the surgery apparently didn't work so now I have the same problem in addition to residual crap from being cut open. Yeah, wah wah wah. Anyway, I have physical therapy in the late afternoon on Mondays and Wednesdays, so depending on how my work day plays out, I'm sometimes able to go straight home afterwards instead of back to the office. I was having kind of a shitty day pain-wise, so I was feeling frowny-faced and being kind of babyish with my therapist and in a general state of orneriness. The weather was unbelievably beautiful when I went outside, so instead of going back to work or getting on the train, I decided my mood could use a comic book and a frozen treat. So I detoured to Forbidden Planet on Broadway and 13th (where, incidentally, way too many dudes think it's ok to read all of their books right there in the too-skinny aisle), brought Final Crisis #2 to Red Mango on 14th and 6th, and decided pretty rapidly that I will be doing this every Wednesday this summer. Seriously, it was a substantially pleasant half hour (I don't race the clock when Morrison is involved), and lifted my spirits several notches.
I don't care who's bitching about what, Final Crisis was great--well paced, cinematic and very nearly terrifying in the right ways. I'm pretty much in the camp that thinks Morrison has been a tad of a dick in the press lately, but it's gotta be said that his storytelling is several levels above the norm. Like, startlingly so. I'm still trying to spelunk my way through Seven Soldiers of Victory with erratic success, but that's my own stupid, and I'm quite willing to read it multiple times to fully appreciate it. And Final Crisis is clearly building from SSoV quite nicely, so I am patient enough to wait for the slow, thinky unravel.
Anyway, if you happen to live in New York and wander into Red Mango on a Wednesday at around 5:00, and see a girl eating a medium yogurt with strawberries and Cinnamon Toast Crunch and reading a Secret Invasion tie-in, say hi. Or ask me how my back is doing, I love to tell people about it.
So, moving on, before the guilt of not doing the work I'm supposed to be doing takes over--as the few of you who know me personally know ten times over, I have a back issue for which I had surgery in December, and the surgery apparently didn't work so now I have the same problem in addition to residual crap from being cut open. Yeah, wah wah wah. Anyway, I have physical therapy in the late afternoon on Mondays and Wednesdays, so depending on how my work day plays out, I'm sometimes able to go straight home afterwards instead of back to the office. I was having kind of a shitty day pain-wise, so I was feeling frowny-faced and being kind of babyish with my therapist and in a general state of orneriness. The weather was unbelievably beautiful when I went outside, so instead of going back to work or getting on the train, I decided my mood could use a comic book and a frozen treat. So I detoured to Forbidden Planet on Broadway and 13th (where, incidentally, way too many dudes think it's ok to read all of their books right there in the too-skinny aisle), brought Final Crisis #2 to Red Mango on 14th and 6th, and decided pretty rapidly that I will be doing this every Wednesday this summer. Seriously, it was a substantially pleasant half hour (I don't race the clock when Morrison is involved), and lifted my spirits several notches.
I don't care who's bitching about what, Final Crisis was great--well paced, cinematic and very nearly terrifying in the right ways. I'm pretty much in the camp that thinks Morrison has been a tad of a dick in the press lately, but it's gotta be said that his storytelling is several levels above the norm. Like, startlingly so. I'm still trying to spelunk my way through Seven Soldiers of Victory with erratic success, but that's my own stupid, and I'm quite willing to read it multiple times to fully appreciate it. And Final Crisis is clearly building from SSoV quite nicely, so I am patient enough to wait for the slow, thinky unravel.
Anyway, if you happen to live in New York and wander into Red Mango on a Wednesday at around 5:00, and see a girl eating a medium yogurt with strawberries and Cinnamon Toast Crunch and reading a Secret Invasion tie-in, say hi. Or ask me how my back is doing, I love to tell people about it.
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