“Who Will Buy My Biggish Shoes?" COMICS! Sometimes I Suddenly Realise What A Weird Idea Laugh Tracks Are!

This time out it’s The Bojeffries Saga by Steve (RESIDENT ALIEN) Parkhouse and Alan (CROSSED PLUS ONE HUNDRED) Moore. What? Yes, I am still in a mood.  photo RaoulB_zpsfg0xmvxy.png THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

Anyway, this… THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA Art by Steve Parkhouse Written by Alan Moore Top Shelf Productions, £9.99 (paper), £2.50 or something equally paltry (Digital) (2014) The Bojeffries Saga created by Steve Parkhouse and Alan Moore

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Collected herein are all the extant Bojeffries Saga stories drawn by the sublime Steve Parkhouse and written by the astonishing Alan Moore. Having them all in one place is extraordinarily handy as the stories themselves were spread around a number of publications (WARRIOR, DALGODA, A-1, etc?) over a period of several decades and I don’t know about you (I’ve heard tales though) but my days of rooting about in longboxes like a pig hunting truffles are long gone. It’s just unseemly for a man of my age, you know. Also, I don’t live anywhere near my LCS. There’s even a previously unpublished strip to round out the book and further tempt the unconvinced. Anyway, a little clearing of the throat and we’re off. AAAahhhurrruHHHffluGGH-ACK-ACK! Oh, god, what is that! Um, it’s a fact: The Bojeffries Saga started in 1983 within issue 12 of Dez Skinn’s UK based monthly B&W anthology magazine WARRIOR. And, let’s be honest here, most of the appeal went over my then thirteen year old head. Far more appealing to my teeny tastes were Moore’s splashy reinvention of super-heroics (with Garry Leach and Alan Davis) in Miracleman and his (and David Lloyd’s) boldly political reinvention in V For Vendetta of The Abominable Dr Phibes as a stylish gutting of the vigilante trope (V isn’t a hero, just sayin’). In comparison with such lurid company The Bojeffries Saga was a somewhat more sedate proposition with, it turned out, equally lasting if far more subtle pleasures. The Bojeffries Saga didn’t change the course of capes comics forever and nor did it encourage people to protest capitalism en masse while sporting masks depicting a crap traitor purchased from a multi-national corporation. However, it did make me laugh. Which I think is the point of a comedy.

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THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

Yes, The Bojeffries Saga is a comedy; it is essentially a comic book sit-com about a family. But one written by Alan Moore so the situation in question is, mostly, a humble British terraced house, and the family domiciled therein could only be described as a nuclear family because the baby is a sentient China Syndrome. Grandad Podlasp is a rapidly de-evolving Cthulloid mess, Glinda is a walking super-ego unfettered by self-awareness or restraint, uncle Raoul is a werewolf who isn’t the full shilling, uncle Festus is a vampire singularly failing to adapt to modernity, Reth, the son, consciously refuses to age past eleven and in their ridiculous midst paterfamilias Jobremus Bojeffries is just trying to keep the household running. Now the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum, what might be right for you might not be right for some! SHAZBAT! and I think we’ve all learned a valuable lesson, today, and all that, right? No, America, because not all comedy is like your comedy.

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THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

The Bojeffries Saga is nothing like all that business, because The Bojeffries Saga is quintessentially British and very consciously of its time. This does not (Does. Not.) mean it is dated and its humour has faded. It’s still funny and fresh because Parkhouse & Moore’s comic is so beautifully executed I suspect it will prove to have a half-life equal to one of the aforementioned irradiated baby’s motions. Also, by having its nonsensical cast rub up against the actual times in which it was produced like a needy moggy, it produces a kind of satirical static electricity every time the book is opened. You know what I mean. Timeless, innit. On these pages Parkhouse & Moore build up a picture of a Britain that never existed but a picture so informed by authenticity of detail and experience it becomes, satirical excesses aside, a historical document of a Britain which did exist. Remarkable.

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THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

And it is, yes, that’s right, it is the little things. (No, see, I’m not making a joke about my penis here, because I have standards (but mostly because you expected one)) If The Devil is in the details then on the evidence of The Bojeffries Saga he’s got quite the sense of humour. (He’s still The Devil though; shun him!) Details, then. Christ, it’s like being back at school this. Okay, details it is. One chapter is written as a libretto by Moore and, logically enough, visually choreographed by Parkhouse as a dance number, and while the lightly comical way this captures and satirises the various gender and class divisions of the average British street of the time is remarkable in its efficiency and precision, being older than your pubes I was most struck by the reminder that car alarms were once as alien as having a werewolf as an Uncle. When the Bojeffries go on holiday the accumulation of only ever-so-slightly embellished detail made it feel like a recovered memory of all the tepid yet in retrospect deeply odd holidays I had endured as a child. Bloodbaths in Little Chefs initiated by PTSD riddled children’s toys (“Action Ears”!) aside, obviously. And industry? Remember when Britain had industries? When the majority of people worked in factories. Making stuff. And things. We used to be the best in the world at that! Making stuff and, er, things. Stanchions and that. Grommets. Instead today half the populace is employed in ringing up the other half of the populace to see if they have had an accident at work (not your fault!) or have purchased PPI recently. And the other half (yes, the third half. Glad to see you’re awake.) of the population have made a lifestyle choice to be poor and are getting fat on my taxes, isn’t that right David Cameron. Ey, David Cameron? Poverty is a “lifestyle choice” alright, you utter ****. (It’s okay, Brian, no need to get Legal involved, nobody reads this shit.)

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THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

So, yeah, cough, uh, in one of the summers between terms working hard to piss away my parent’s dreams by failing to get a decent degree I worked for about three seconds in a pet food factory. In a very Bojeffries Saga touch I filled and assembled big cardboard Christmas crackers meant for dogs. They had dog biscuits in ‘em, rather than a very poor joke, a vinyl fish that can tell how sexy you are and a paper crown, obviously; what are you, nuts? The knack was in the folding; skills for life there. Now, limited as my horny handed experience was I can attest that Moore and Parkhouse’s chapter on Raoul’s workplace and their hilariously incendiary night out captures perfectly the bizarrely banal behaviour which passes for normalcy on the factory floor. Yes, in a dismayingly hilarious way Parkhouse and Moore convey all the fun and magic of the now mostly extinct manufacturing environment; with all its tedium, casual racism, cheeky misogyny and ever present threat that unspoken grudges will suddenly flare into violence. Good times, no, but the dog crackers got through. The later chapters might betray a slackening of the satirical noose as the targets seem slightly more obvious, the battles already lost. Mocking Reality TV probably only means something to people who still bear a grudge over the national shock when the light entertainer and Tory (natch) Leslie Crowther exhorted the British public in 1984 (game, set and natch) to “Cuhmm Ahhn DAWHN!”, and they did. It wasn’t Reality TV, but it was the thin end of the wedge. After Leslie Crowther, the deluge. So it’s 2015 and Reality TV has become as accepted as car alarms, but once both were new and both were funny and The Bojeffries Saga is a record of that time. History moves quicker now but The Bojeffries Saga just about kept up.

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THE BOJEFFRIES SAGA by Steve Parkhouse & Alan Moore

I mean no disrespect to Steve Parkhouse when I say that Alan Moore’s the draw here because Moore’s the writer and that’s how comics, a primarily visual medium, works. Also, public awareness-wise Steve Parkhouse has missed a trick or two by not dressing like a Victorian dandy or worshipping a sock. Those being actual “lifestyle choices”, David Cameron, as opposed to poverty - which is not. Cowardly one sided baiting of our majority emboldened leader aside, the success of The Bojeffries Saga is down to Steve Parkhouse as much as Alan Moore, but it needs both to succeed, as anyone who has ever read the repellent and woeful Big Dave (which Parkhouse drew for 2000AD) will back me up. That piece of **** has never been reprinted, which is a mercy; for while there was nothing wrong with Parkhouse’s art the, ahem, script by Grant "Rebel, Rebel" Morrison (MBE) and Mark "The Socialist"Millar (MBE) is everything The Bojeffries Saga is not. And I mean that in a really bad way. A really bad way indeed. Posterity got it right by having The Bojeffries Saga survive and so we can still appreciate the lively and joyous art of Steve Parkhouse. Sure, the art on the part of Steve Parkhouse is a delight here, but then when is Steve Parkhouse’s art not a delight. (That’s rhetorical.) Right from the very first episode Parkhouse uses his deft draughtsmanship to conflate the scruffy fun of Leo (Bash Street Kids) Baxendale with the fidgety detail of Robert (Oh, come on now, really? Fritz The Cat, then.) Crumb while also providing facial cartooning the equal of Naoki (Monster) Urasawa. Parkhouse’s art develops, during the volume, from a fastidious approach with a slightly surreal filigree to a looser, and thus, more sprightly approach. Both styles are great but seeing the development flow through his work over the course of these pages is greater still. And Alan, Oor Alan, what of Alan Moore? Alan Moore seems to be having a ball here. Stylistically he shimmies about all over the shop, which is always a sign he’s enjoying his mystical self. There’s a libretto here, a story in the style of a (really) old Brit comic, plenty of fucking about with phonetics, and it’s all pretty ticklish round the funnybone region. Mind you, he still has a tendency to take a running joke and push it so hard that whether or not it passes through The Wall and breaks the tape like Seb Coe (a Tory) depends entirely on the reader. Other than that slight criticism, I’d have to say that The Bojeffries Saga by Steve Parkhouse and Alan Moore was very, very funny, which in real terms equates to VERY GOOD!

Sure, I could have saved us all a lot of grief and just said it was Eastenders by Monty Python directed by Mike Hodges, but where in that lot is there anything about - COMICS!!!

"The Day Terry Vanished." COMICS! Sometimes You Should Take Off And Nuke The Idea From Orbit. It's The Only Way To Be Sure!

That’s right, it has been a while! No flies on you, me old mucker. Cringing apologies duly tendered and all that. Just so you don’t think The Savage Critics don’t love you anymore here's some words about a comic.  photo DreamHeaderB_zpsd2836165.jpg

Anyway, this… DARK HORSE PRESENTS #2 Dark Horse Comics, $4.99 (2014)

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Resident Alien: The Sam Hain Mystery Chapter 2 Art and lettering by Steve Parkhouse Written by Peter Hogan

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This one is called Resident Alien and is about an alien who is a resident in a Small Town®©. (Small Town is ® and © The United States of America.) Sometimes there are crimes and he kind of ambles around them in DHP but actually solves the crimes in other series outside of DHP. I’m guessing he solves them because I haven’t been sufficiently moved to follow his placid antics elsewhere. Could be maybe he doesn’t solve them; maybe he just kicks back and whittles, makes a scale model of the Mary Rose in a bottle, then someone walks past at the end and mentions they caught the Canned Peaches Killer, ayup, so they did, you betcha. Like I say though, I don’t know; maybe he hunts the killer down and exacts brutal and uncompromising revenge but then feels a bit sad about it so it’s okay that he did that. There’s a lot of that crap about these days so I’m quite receptive to a series where the main action involves some nail-biting box unpacking because Res Al is moving house. (Always label your boxes and ensure you pack the kettle last, so you unpack it first; top moving tips there, no charge). Ramping the thrills right up there are also some scenes of the Feds methodically failing to pick up his trail. I guess this isn’t exactly heart stopping stuff unless having crumpets instead of toast gives you palpitations (the razor’s very edge!) It’s an inoffensive and gentle mosey around familiar tropes in a kind of early Sunday evening TV fashion. No disrespect is meant when I say I can easily imagine it being on TV in the ‘80s with an elderly Bill Bixby in a latex mask helping out the character actor residents of a Small Town®© while The Authorities (Tony Danza) unhurriedly fail to track him down. Of course on TV you wouldn’t have Steve Parkhouse’s wonderfully precise yet sketchy art. Art which is unusually attentive to everyday details to such an extent that you are struck by the odd revelation that most comics just vamp this stuff. I’m so used to seeing characters wear Clothes (Shirt, Trousers, Shoes) and live in a House on a Street that Parkhouse’s unforced work here makes the hum drum as visually interesting as any alien world. It also enables Hogan’s amiable script become a decent comic regardless of any televisual ambitions. After all, I always figured my Mum secretly hoped Bill Bixby would run off with her so I prefer comics to Television. Resident Alien is GOOD! comics.

Dream Gang Chapter 2 Story & Art by Brendan McCarthy Lettering by Nate Piekos of Blambot

 photo DreamGangB_zps135bb304.jpg by Brendan McCarthy & Nate Piekios of Blambot

This one is called Dream Gang and is about a gang of people in dreams. Or something, dreams figure in it though. I don’t think it’s about anything really, I reckon McCarthy’s just larking about which is okay by me. Because Brendan McCarthy can really draw; breaking news there. McCarthy’s lines are just brimful of confidence and so assuredly loose that his art has all the appearances of random doodles miraculously converging just shy of sense. He also knows how to colour stuff in and while I am dreadful at appreciating colours I do know the colours here are bright and inviting since the sight of them from a room length away caused my son (“Gil”) to express an interest. Maybe he can explain it all to me; maybe it is just crazy deep (man). I mean, I like it but McCarthy’s bull-headed insistence on evading clarity can get a bit wearing. It’s also kind of weird to me how Dreams are always this short hand for the imagination frolicking in delighted play and that they are just obviously Technicolor gear and fabgasmtastic but in contrast real life is all grey drabbery. In dreams I have never ridden a marsupial boat on a tangerine river under a liquorice sky. And nor in dreams have I walked with you. More often than not I wake up feeling like someone’s been at my soul with a bone saw; gone at my very essence with a craft knife or something. Not so much Yellow Submarine as Das Boot when everything creaks just before the ocean bursts in. I guess me and Brendan McCarthy will just have to beg to differ when it comes to dreams. GOOD!

Wrestling With Demons Chapter 2 Art by Andy Kuhn Written by Jimmy Palmiotti & Justin Gray Colours by John Rauch Letters by John J. Hill

 photo WrestleB_zps25b56395.jpg by Kuhn, Palmiotti, Gray, Rauch & Hill

This one is called Wrestling With Demons and is about a man who has to wrestle with demons. Literally. Not metaphorical demons like eating too much chocolate or boozing until he shits himself or a penchant for bouncing his wife’s head off the worktop. No, proper demons. Which he wrestles. Literally. I’d hesitate to suggest either Palmiotti or Grey is coasting but I will just point out that Steve Niles manages to do this kind of workmanlike sticklebricking of stale ideas all by himself. Last issue was the introductory chapter with decent dad and sassy kid bonding on a road trip before it turned into Fight Club for Demons (and Dads who want their sassy daughter back). I just made it sound really interesting didn’t I, like Joe R Lansdale or something. While Lansdale would routinely turn something this slight into a fast and nasty blur of invention and profanity here the set up just sits around going from predictable beat to predictable beat. Oh, these comic writers and their beats. You need a bit more than beats, folks. But then I remember when beats were nice boys touching each other in pretty cars in between smoking menthol cigarettes and typing be-bop prose & poems. Beats. Anyway this is astonishingly dull stuff considering I used the phrase “Fight Club for demons”. I was watching this movie Shooter the other day, because it was on while I was sitting still for a bit and after a while I was watching the background because I don’t live in America and I like to see what it’s like. Also, the movie was predictable shit so in a defensive move my brain was focusing on the setting. I think it was set in San Francisco because there was a bit where he drove down a hill really fast and the only hill anyone ever drives down really fast in movies set in America is in San Francisco. I didn’t see Brian Hibbs so maybe it wasn’t set in San Francisco; it’s not an exact science. Yeah, I know, it was probably filmed in Canada for tax reasons and they tilted the camera to make it look like Mark Wahlberg was going down a hill. Movie magic in action. Anyway, the big thing I took away from Shooter was that America isn’t really fussed about architecture is it? No, not your old stuff, you’ve got some nice old buildings; we probably built them so, y’know, you’re welcome. Mostly though you have these big things which yell “FUTURE” and then everything else is all boxes. Big boxes and little boxes, yes, but basically boxes. (And then there’s the odd nice old bit here and there like someone spread Barnsley over 3,794,100 square miles) So, boxes with a big shiny thing or two stuck in the middle, that's you that is America. Now, it’s possible, maybe, perhaps, that I could be misjudging the architecture of what is essentially 50 discrete cultures there. But then basing an impression of an entire nation’s architecture on five minutes of an unnecessary Mark Wahlberg movie will do that. My real point is that the actual movie was dross but I found something to keep my synapses firing. So, I was reading this Wrestling With demons and I tell you I appreciated Andy Kuhn’s artwork a lot because everything else was just rote time wasting. Basically compared to the writing in Wrestling with Demons, which was as tepid as an unnecessary Mark Wahlberg movie, Andy Kuhn was America. And it was still just OKAY!

Banjo Art by Declan Shalvey Story & Colours by Jordie Bellaire Lettering by Ed Brisson

 photo BanjoB_zps6a57aeaa.jpg by Shalvey, Bellaire & Brisson

Sometimes I wonder whether or not reading comics from such a young age has somewhat degraded my finer sensibilities. Never have I wondered this more than when I finished reading a prettily illustrated and lightly written short revolving around the power of music and memory, in which a young girl wishes only for her father to return from the savage bastardry that is war, and my first thought is disappointment that there wasn’t a final panel of a skull telling me that “..the only victor in the WEIRD War is DEATH! HA! HA! HA!” Sometimes, I appal even myself. GOOD!


Action Philosophers: Action Philosophy! Art & Lettering by Ryan Dunlavey Written by Fred Van Lente

 photo ActionPB_zpsf65b41b7.jpg by Dunlavey & Van Lente

My favourite Philosopher Fact is that Nietzsche claimed to have caught syphilis by sitting on a piano stool. But back to the comic and I’d have thought this was the kind of quirky attention getter that would be kicked straight to the curb as soon as the either of these classy dudes got a regular seat at The Big Table. But no, here they are soiling the joint with wit and intelligence like they actually care about this stuff. Alas, they are playing to an empty house because everyone's pissed off to watch Shooter. GOOD!


Aliens: Field Report Art and Colours by Paul Lee Written by Chris Roberson Lettering by Nate Piekos of Blambot

 photo AliensB_zps68ccb1ec.jpg by Lee, Roberson & Piekos

Here Lee and Roberson commit a few scenes from the movie Aliens straight to the comics page. Almost. It’s an attempt to graft the new Aliens series (ALIENS: TURNER & HOOCH) into the canon. You know, so that it counts. God forbid it just be good. So Hicks notices the spaceship from the new Aliens series (ALIENS: CHEESE & PICKLES) on a monitor. Limited to a single page (and it could easily have been limited to a single page) this would have been a cute little come on. Maybe with a jokey nod at those Hostess Twinkies ads. Okay, maybe not. It doesn’t matter because this is 2014 so it isn’t a page long, no, it goes on for pages more than it should and then tells you to go buy ALIENS: SONNY & CHER; wherein you won’t find anyone from Aliens (well, except the aliens obviously) but you will find the ship Hicks saw on a screen in that one panel. Lee’s art is lifeless and flat while faithful to the source but he dismays everyone when he chooses not to draw Paul Reiser and instead hides him with a shadow. While I know I’m supposed to be all out of touch and stuff even I have a sneaky suspicion that all this Alien activity is due to the release of that new Alien videogame, ALIEN:ISOLATIONISM. Apparently it’s about Alien in America during the period just before it entered WW2. What? Yes, I suppose isolationism is a misnomer for American foreign policy at that point but since the game isn’t called ALIEN: NON INTERVENTIONISM I worked with what I had. (Our Motto: there’s a reason this stuff’s free.) Back in reality, the game looks proper good and all. I’ve heard it’s hard as time served in San Quentin but well authentic. There’s even some DLC (yes, I do know what that means, cheeky.) where you can play as members of the original Nostromo crew. Who doesn’t want to play as Yaphet Kotto!? Who doesn’t want to wander about effing and jeffing about bonuses in space. If it tells me to “Find Cat” it can **** off; it’s the escape pod for me, baby! Ma Parker raised no fools. EH!


Peppered throughout this issue are various spot illustrations by Geoff Darrow: Scrumdiddilybloodyumptious and no mistake, me old plumduffs! VERY GOOD!

Right then, this issue of DHP was a bit lacking to be honest. But that’s the thing with anthologies; there’s always an element of pot luck involved. I appreciate reading a bunch of stuff I probably wouldn’t have sought out and that’s probably the true value of a book like this; reminding me how good Andy Kuhn is or that some comic writers still think about the world. The big mistake in this latest iteration of Dark Horse Presents is the lack, two issues in, of any Howard Victor Chaykin. I don’t want to influence anyone or anything but DHP would be a little bit richer in content if it had more stuff like that one where General George Armstrong Custer survives Little Big Horn, becomes President and invades Canada. All in about 8 pages too. Just saying. In conclusion, I had a decent enough time so I’ll go with OKAY!

Hope that'll do ya, because you know what don't read themselves - COMICS!!!

"You Dropped The Coffee, Stephanie." COMICS! Sometimes They Shaped Us In A Million Invisible Ways!

I was a bit rushed this week so I thought I'd save some time by doing a gallery instead of a bunch of words arranged in upsetting orders. Hilariously, I saved no time whatsoever but I can now present to you a cover gallery of all the issues of WARRIOR Magazine I own (i.e. no issue 1). They are old, stained, dog-eared and read to within an inch of their lives but they still look nice and give a savoury taste of the groundbreaking early '80s anthology that thrilled me from the age of twelve and up, up and away. Anyhoo, have a look if you want. (Also: How To Make a Zirk! Really!)  photo IntroB_zpse02fb8fe.jpg Alan Moore and Alan Davis correctly predict the reaction of the Internet to those Miracleman reprints coming in January 2014. Who sez he ain't magic!?!

Anyway, this...

Oh, WARRIOR was VERY GOOD! there, now I can categorise it as a review. Tricks of the trade, my loves. Tricks of the trade.

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WARRIOR ISSUE 6 COVER ART by Steve Parkhouse

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Mick Austin's cover unadorned except by age and stains.

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Mick Austin's cover unadorned except by age and stains.

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Garry Leach's cover unadorned except by age and stains.

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WARRIOR ISSUE 12 COVER ART by Steve Parkhouse

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WARRIOR ISSUE 16 COVER ART by Steve Parkhouse

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WARRIOR ISSUE 18 COVER ART by Steve Parkhouse

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WARRIOR ISSUE 19 COVER ART by Dez Skinn?Garry Leach?David Lloyd? I know not.

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WARRIOR ISSUE 23 COVER ART by Jim Baikie & Garry Leach

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WARRIOR ISSUE 24 COVER ART by John "Joz" Bolton

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How to Make a Zirk Art by Garry Leach!!!

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As you've probably gathered by now, those were - COMICS!!!

Oooh, colors

Look, Jeff has changed the template! What a mensch! And yes, go read his Fanboy Rampage, as linked below, GO NOW NOW NOW!

(Huh, we need to add those links on the side... and I need a lot more "away from here" links too... give us a few more days folks!)

Ben's asleep (for the mo'), and I dinged 28 in City of Heroes, and I have 30 minutes before I have to get to work, so let's see what else I've managed to read, shall we?

MAJESTIC #1: Wow, fuck yah. I expected nothing from this (not of the previous iterations were all that hot), but I thought this was wicked funny and well characterized all the way through. Silver-age Superman level powers can be FUN, sometimes. Excellent, and barring some big surprise later in the pile, I'm willing to call this one The Pick Of The Week.

UNCANNY X-MEN #447: Damn Alan Davis can draw. Daddy likee. The story was a bit meh -- we've seen this one before from Claremont, more or less. I seem to recall essentially the same conflict circa the 200's -- that Sentinel from the future? Wossname? Nimrod, I think? (heh) But, this looks fab, so let's go with a real strong OK.

MILKMAN MURDERS #2: Despite how shocking this book is looking to be, I like that the first 3 pages were so understated and elegent in what they presented. I liked this quite a bit -- might be the strongest narrative I've seen from Casey, and Parkhouse art is always a joy to look at. Very Good.

HARD TIME #7: "Meanwhile, back at the ensemble..." Now that the Focus "line" has been winnowed down to 2, it's time for a little of that comics Activism for this and Kinetic. Both are very strong books focusing more on human reaction than the garish zow of super-books. Both books have found their rhythm and both should be selling at least twice as well as they do. While I'm not giving this PotW, I really do urge you to pick up a copy the next time you're in the LCS, and give it a chance. Very Good.

MONOLITH #7: It's always smart to try and guest-star Batman to goose your numbers, but, folks, the bottom third of a cover is THE SINGLE WORST part of your cover to put any sales information. MOST stores overlap covers, and that's "dead" sales space. Seriously. (Wake up, there in DC -- Vertigo, especially, has been putting out a lot of covers lately with "misplaced" logos). Very nice art from Tom Coker, a good solid story from Palmiotti and Gray, and now that the story has started moving at a slightly brisker place, you should give this one a gander on the racks. Good.

SOF' BOY #3: Great cartooning from Archer Prewitt. While I've been a bit turned off by the sadism this has sometimes shown towards it's indefatigable, invulnerable lead, this I thought was wonderful and sweet and joyous. And god-damn nicely drawn. $4.95 is kinda a lot to swallow, but dem's the economics of doing askew work like this. This was a terrific issue: Very Good.

And so endeth this session of the Savage Critic. Wow I kinda liked everything is this part of the pile! More later.....