Galactic Hangover

Awkward Moments in Comics #3

2011-05-10T12:13:00.000-05:00

Name your band Bongripper

2011-04-23T16:58:00.000-05:00

I saw this band called Bongripper at The Mutiny last night totally by accident, and bought their newest CD, "Satan Worshipping Doom." The current top rated YouTube comment on this track pretty much sums it up for me:

"I don't understand why there are so many shitty bands out there. I mean, seriously.... name your band Bongripper, name your album Satan Worshipping Doom, play heavy as fuck doom-riffs, and put titties and fire on your album cover. This isn't rocket science."

Awkward Moments in Comics #2

2011-04-11T13:36:00.000-05:00

Spider-Man Blinds Hulk: "Sploosh."

Awkward Moments in Comics, Episode 1

2011-04-05T13:14:00.001-05:00

The things we do for love. Forwarded by Matthew Jones.

Game Director Honestly Doesn't Know Exact Number of Dragons in Elder Scrolls V

2011-03-31T13:23:00.003-05:00

Todd Howard: "Some (dragons) are scripted to appear at certain times, and some are completely random. We're currently messing with that number, and it also depends on how you play the game. I got randomly hunted by three of them at once in the game last week, and I assure you that's too many at once."

I really still need to finish closing those hell-gates to Oblivion before I can even begin to think about this. Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim will keep your from finishing your novel or getting a girlfriend later on this year. Read the rest of the interview at IGN.

Metropolis and Gotham: Comic Book Urban Images Reflected in Chicago

2011-03-29T12:31:00.008-05:00

Chicago is going to be Metropolis, or at least be its stand-in for the next Superman movie. It already served as the location representing Gotham City in Nolan’s Batman films. Now that Chicago will appear in the upcoming Superman: Man of Steel, I wondered: What is Metropolis, really? And what is Gotham City? I decided to look into these questions without issue-by-issue comic book minutiae. I instead looked at the broader real-world concepts that shaped these fictional cities.

I’ve always thought Metropolis and Gotham City were intended to be opposing aesthetic interpretations of New York City. A little research reveals I’m not alone in this. Frank Miller is quoted in Publisher’s Weekly as saying, "Metropolis is New York in the daytime; Gotham City is New York at night." So where do these terms, Gotham and Metropolis, come from?

Washington Irving first used “Gotham” as a pseudonym for New York City in a publication satirizing that city’s culture. Michael Quinion writes that this is a reference to gotham salad, which consists of an unusually wide variety of ingredients. The word “Gotham” itself is supposedly drawn from the small English village in Nottinghamshire of the same name.

The villagers of Gotham had a reputation for insanity (or perhaps for cleverly feigning it). Legend says the people of Gotham put on elaborate displays of lunacy to dissuade King John from spending an evening in their village, not wanting the hassle of accommodating his retainers and servants. Stories of these silly endeavors were collected in The Merrie Tales of the Mad-Men of Gotham (or The Merry Tales of the Wise Men of Gotham), published around 1540. Also, the nursery rhyme “Three wise men of Gotham” appears in many Mother Goose collections:

Three wise men of Gotham,

They went to sea in a bowl,

And if the bowl had been stronger 

My song would have been longer.

So, the term “Gotham” refers to a mixed-up and crazy place. The Gotham City of DC Comics certainly qualifies. It usually is considered a city of more gothic connotations (Miller’s “New York at night”). Its primary guardian is a man dressed up as a six-foot winged mammal who often fights an evil clown, so it's a surreal and grotesque place as well. Gotham is the dark, gritty, deep-shadowed nightmare image of the American city.

“Metropolis” is defined by the Oxford American Dictionary as “the capital or chief city of a country or region,” or as “a very large and densely populated industrial and commercial city.” It comes from the Greek “mother town.” Superman creator Joe Shuster modeled Metropolis’s skyline on his childhood home of Toronto. "Whatever buildings I saw in Toronto remained in my mind and came out in the form of Metropolis," he says. The comic book has pulled landmarks and architecture from many other American cities (some pretty identifiable ones, too, such as the Statue of Liberty). It’s a place of blue skies and tall buildings. It is all majestic hustle-bustle and cosmopolitan glory.

What of Chicago? Metropolis or Gotham City? Well, it can visually be both. Seen from I-94 or from atop the John Hancock Building, the skyline looks shimmering and modern on a clear summer day. The lakeside parks and fountains, along with the museum campus, give the impression of a City of Tomorrow. In February, on the ground and in its outlying neighborhoods, it can seem a city of concrete and rust, of clattering L-trains and black puddles, of long shadows and longer nights. It’s all a matter of point of view, of lighting and where one chooses to place the camera.

The Many Embarrassing “Deaths” of Hammer Horror’s Count Dracula

2010-06-13T13:40:00.006-05:00

Hammer really found something special in Christopher Lee, who played numerous villains in their pictures from 1957 through the mid-1970s. Lee was perhaps best known as their gaunt and glowering Count Dracula (if most beloved for playing Lord Summerisle in The Wicker Man, later catastrophically remade starring Nicholas “How’d it get burned!” Cage). His piercing eyes and aristocratic demeanor, juxtaposed with bestial moments of fanged rage, portrayed the character better than anyone has since Lugosi’s original.

As a kid, I was exposed to most of these movies through the Saturday afternoon “TV 20 Thriller” out of Detroit which, rather than having a host, opened with a horror movie montage musically accompanied by the psychedelic breakdown from Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love.” (The intro was often more scary than the actual movie.) Along with all things Godzilla and Vincent Price, Hammer’s horror pics were a favorite of mine. They brought a level of blood and titillation to their Dracula franchise unmatched my any English-speaking film studio for a long time. These vampire films hid their low budgets through the use of great locations, excellent costumes, classic sets, and gratuitous cleavage. The lack of special effects meant the Count never got to do much other than look imperious, bite hot chicks, talk smack to Peter Cushing, and hiss at just about anything made into the shape of a cross. (Of course, the scripts also had something to do with this.) They're a fun way to kill a rainy afternoon even now.

Horror movies are notorious for their weak endings; quick wrap-ups where the main characters are doomed by, flee from, or destroy the antagonizing force—and Hammer’s Dracula movies are no exception. The formula is a classic one—Count Dracula, Satanic Lord of the Undead, often dies like a punk in some anticlimactic goof-up that exploits the downside of being a vampire. These include aversions to sun, clear running water, sharp wooden objects, and all things Jesus, all of which are pretty abundant on planet Earth. Dracula’s many embarrassing “deaths” are listed below:

Dracula (1958)

At dawn, Van Helsing opens the drapes.

Dracula, Prince of Darkness (1966)

Dracula falls through the ice and sinks.

Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968)

He slips over a balcony railing and lands on a large metal cross that impales him.

Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970)

Dracula enters a church, and is horrified to discover it’s full of crosses. Dies from apparent Jesus overdose.

Scars of Dracula (1970)

While waving around an iron post atop a castle in a thunderstorm, he is struck by lightning and burns up a like Chinese-made teddy bear.

Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972)

Two deaths: Impaled by broken carriage wheel, revived, later gets holy water in the face and stumbles into a spike-filled hole.

Satanic Rites of Dracula (1974)

While chasing Van Helsing through the woods, Dracula gets tangled up in a hawthorn tree. The thorns remind him of Jesus, and this debilitates him. Van Helsing stabs him with a nearby fencepost.

News Feature Reads Like News Feature

2009-03-04T14:34:00.002-06:00

by Geoff Hyatt

Have you ever considered beginning a news feature with a question? The answer, of course, comes in the second line. The next sentence summarizes the article’s main points.

“I’m providing an insightful quote about myself and/or the subject of the article,” says the Main Interviewee, doing something indicative of his/her personality or vocation, which perhaps also establishes the interview’s setting. “And then maybe I’ll provide an aside.”

The Main Interviewee has been involved with the article’s subject for a number of years. He/She got started somewhere, things happened, and now he/she is either still there or is somewhere else. It would be nice to draw some connection to the community of readers here.

“I know about local things,” says the Main Interviewee, with a facial expression. “I’m just a regular guy/gal, who has had certain experiences.”

The Main Interviewee has always known they would be involved with the subject of the article, or maybe it came as a total surprise. A certain formative experience in the past introduced them to the subject. They’ve seen quite a bit since then.

“Many things have changed over the years, but I never forgot a basic truth, which I will express here,” says the Main Interviewee.

A Secondary Interviewee, briefly introduced, says something here to validate or call into question the First Interviewee’s statements.

“I agree/disagree with the Main Interviewee,” says the Secondary Interviewee, “for the following reasons.”

Back to the Main Interviewee, who is in a setting connected to the feature’s subject. A significant element of this setting is described, and then the Main Interviewee physically interacts with it in a way that seems meaningful.

“This is my final quote in the feature,” says the Main Interviewee, perhaps with a gesture or facial expression. “It’s probably been presented out of its actual sequence to make it seem more resonant.”

Attack of the Mutants!

2008-08-11T13:50:00.013-05:00

Licensing television into books is a scheme dear to the publishing industry, because nothing sells books like TV. I found this strange example in the dollar bin of a Lincoln Square record shop.

Attack of the Mutants is "A THUNDERCATS ADVENTURE" written by Ann Hodgman, who at one point served as the food editor for the magazine Spy. She went on to write several young-adult vampire novels, none of which featured any Thundercats--which is too bad, really. At least that would be something new to do with a pretty tired monster.

The art credited to "Mones," who I believe is Isadoro Mones, who did covers for Vampirella and Creepy. A quick look at his very 1970s psychedelic and sexy art for this book gives the impression it was not aimed at cereal-munching children, but rather some acid-eating cult of furries. There's a pretty kickass painting of Panthro fighting a giant fire-breathing moth, but you really need to see it full-size to appreciate it. Trust me on this one.

The USA's Perfect Enemy: Dinosaurs

2008-04-22T17:03:00.027-05:00

Apparently, if we can learn anything from sci-fi and fantasy, it's that airplanes and spacecraft crash into monster-infested places like moths into flame. All flight plans should be adjusted accordingly. Dinosaurs are like giant plane-magnets.

I was at a bar with some friends over the weekend, and Jurassic Park 3 was on television. I'd never seen it before, so I'm sure I missed some of the plot's intricacies; there was no sound on the TV and I was drinking Fat Tires like it was Friday night (because it was). I think I got most of the overall concept, though. A group of people crash-land in Jurassic Park. Hijinx ensue. That's about it.

As for Jurassic Park itself, why the military hadn't pulled a Dresden on that abomination after the first movie was beyond me. A fellow bar-patron informed me that, in the series, nobody in the public really believes in the events of the first movie. This bothered me, because people often believe in shit more ridiculous than an island full of cloned dinosaurs. This has resulted in more than a few wars.

Besides, if there were a place like Jurassic Park, it would be a military wet-dream. Not because evil army scientists would want to convert the dinosaurs into military weapons (though this would rule, see: Dinoriders) but because dinosaurs are the perfect enemy to encourage a popular incursion.

Consider:

1. Dinosaurs are not protected by the Geneva Convention.

How awesome is that? All dinosaurs lack uniforms, command structure, and a recognized sovereign nation. They are ALL illegal combatants. So, troops, have fun! Turn up the Korn on your iPod and light up every goddamn native you see. No messy trials or paperwork. Put them on leashes and kick 'em around. Put panties on their heads. Nobody cares. Waterboard that veciloraptor all day long. It will never talk, so keep doing what you love.

2. Dinosaurs don't build IEDs.

That's right, a dinosaur will run right at you, snapping its teeth and roaring right up the point you fire an RPG down its throat. These hateful pea-brained bastards don't do any of that pussy guerilla bullshit. They will throw down with you. Even if you're a hulking Marine with a SAW gun and a full backplate tattoo of Yosemite Sam pissing on the Ford logo. They know no fear.

3. Dinosaurs have no religion or ethnicity.

This one's always a plus. You have carnivores and herbivores. All of them must die. They will not take refuge in mosques, form militias, or otherwise be a pain in the ass. They are cold-blooded and godless.

4. Dinosaurs inarguably hate freedom.

Not a single egalitarian democracy has ever been been founded by dinosaurs. They are Darwinian anarchists and have no place in a modern community of nations.

5. Dinosaurs are supposed to be extinct.

Man, nation-building sucks. We're very very bad at it. We are good at indiscriminate killing, however. Jurassic Park need not be liberated. Let's stick to what we do best.

I'm sure you see the wisdom now of declaring merciless open war on Jurassic Park. Write your congressperson today. Thanks.

The Warlord's American Fantasy

2008-04-13T17:08:00.031-05:00

The Warlord

is a bawdy and bloodthirsty comic book spawned from the late 1970s. One of many sword & sorcery titles to come out in the wake of Marvel's successful

Conan properties, Mike Grell's The Warlord managed to become something of a standout; for a few years it was DC's top-selling title. What saved The Warlord from the Unforgiving Axe of Abrupt Cancelation? And why do I still get such a kick of reading it today?

The easy answers are A) Because comic readers of the era were mouth-breathing preadolescent geeks easily captivated by prurient trash like The Warlord, and B) I'm not above it, either. Be that as it may, a slew of other books just didn't hack it. There was no shortage of boobs, beasts, and broadswords in the comic world. Grell created something in The Warlord that set him apart from the rest. It's a ribald picaresque adventure tale, starring an American hardass who (unlike Conan and his brooding ilk) discovers life as a muscle-bound killing machine in fantasyland is actually a pretty good time.

The Warlord is Journey to the Center of the Earth meets Tanar of Pellucidar with a soundtrack by Manowar. Lt. Col. Travis Morgan's SR-71 Blackbird spy plane is shot up by Commie fighters, and he bails out over the North Pole, unable to make it to an Alaskan base. Much to his confusion, he parachutes into a jungle. Morgan is soon attacked by dinosaurs, then saved by a sword-wielding barbarian woman. Of course, they fall in love.

Morgan's modern mind, mad skills, and a .44 Magnum handgun make him a force to reckoned with in Skartaris. (Skartaris is inside of our own hollow earth, a land of eternal daylight.) Soon, our hero becomes known as "The Warlord," a devil-may-care rogue with a winged helmet and snow-leopard loincloth who fights sorcerers, robots, naturally occurring animals, and other "enemies of freedom" whenever they cross his path.

Mike Grell refused to draw a map for Skartaris, saying that to define the setting would be to limit it. He didn't mention that people without a map often get lost--and The Warlord is no exception. Still, if ever something was about the journey, it's Travis Morgan's story. He fights lizard men, chases a unicorn, is pursued by CIA assassins, becomes King of Shamballa, and basically lives a continuous series of outrageous events which only lead to more. He's left Earth behind, and doesn't want to go home.

What are the morals and politics of The Warlord? Honestly, I don't care. I suppose I could do a whole entry about how conflicted I feel about rooting for a muscle-bound military thug who lives a life of recreational violence in world not his own. (The silly moralism of this Slate article is a good case in point.) I don't. Not everything is meant to be an examination of our world. Sometimes fantasy is exactly that. The Warlord knew that it was, above all, supposed to be fun. And in a place like Skartaris, that's okay by me.

Blackstar: The Complete Series (or Why Trobbits Must Die)

2008-04-07T18:16:00.000-05:00

I found a used copy of Blackstar: The Complete Series and decided to pick it up. The price was right, and Filmation holds a special place in my heart. Ink & Paint has been putting out some pretty badass sets of old cartoons, loaded with extras, this is no exception: not only all 13 episodes, but also PDF files of all 13 scripts (scanned from the original documents) as well as a handful of storyboards, a documentary called "The Magic of Filmation," two commentary tracks, blah blah blah. The packaging is great, a nice slipcase deal with an insert giving a still pic, synopsis, and trivia for each episode. All this makes for a neat little package, except for one thing:

Blackstar is kind of lame.

It stars a fantasy team trio of the Hero/Hot Chick/Weirdo type (see also: Thundarr the Barbarian). I'm not going to bother picking apart the plotlines and mythology of a children's adventure cartoon from 1981, so let's take it at face value: John Blackstar is an astronaut who flew his spaceship through a black hole, and rather than being crushed into particles, he instead crash landed in a fantasy world where he's a complete badass because he (somehow) got half of a magical "star sword." Also, he has an awesome tan. Okay, fine, I'll buy that. But the animation is weak, even by Filmation cartoon-factory standards. The stories seem randomly thrown together, the dialogue is redundant to the action, and much of the series just feels rushed.

And then there are the trobbits.

Any scene featuring the supporting cast of pink "trobbits" makes you really understand why Overlord wants to make their lives totally suck. Especially the one who flies around on Dumbo ears (who is named "Gossamear"). I'm a reasonably tolerant guy, but there are some things I think should eradicated from any civilized planet, and trobbits top the list. If I had to share a world with a bunch of noisy pink midget wizards who lived in a giant tree, I would make fucking with them the sole reason for my existence, too.

Too bad Overlord is such a half-assed villain you can't even root for him. A purple dude with an underbite and horned helmet,

he seems to take no joy in his work. Say what you want about Cobra Commander's lisp, or Skeletor's bitchy Vincent Price cackle, or Mumm-Ra's roaring aimless rants about evil, all of these guys really loved villainy. Overlord just looks and sounds bored. He seems to want to destroy the trobbits and capture the star sword just so he can finally quit his shitty villain job and retire to a better climate. "Overlord" isn't even a name. It's a title.

I just feel bad for the guy.

Quit Smoking the Sith Way!

2008-04-04T22:21:00.000-05:00

CODE OF THE SITH
Peace is a lie. There is only passion.
Through passion I gain power.
Through power I gain victory.
Through victory my chains are broken.
The Force sets me free.

Quitting smoking means being assailed by one’s addiction. Most methods suggest one stay focused on the positive aspects of being smoke-free, repeating them as a mantra of protection from the demons of withdrawal. Don’t kid yourself. Chances are, if you’re hooked on smokes, you’re not a Buddhist monk. You’re a drug addict. You do not have the will to defeat your enemy through inaction, meditation, and non-attachment. It’s not your style. Using serenity to attain serenity is a paradox—you can’t use what you don’t have to get what you don’t have. The path to quitting smoking is not one of harmony. It is one of conflict. This brings us to part one of the Sith Code.

Peace is a lie. There is only passion.

Yes, it’s true. Peace doesn’t exist in and of itself; it is merely the absence of conflict. When quitting smoking, inner conflict abounds, and spiritual war is unavoidable. Your addiction is not rooted in love. It is rooted in desire. You need a new passion to overcome it, a passion for victory. You must learn to despise your addiction. Once withdrawal begins hurting you, it will become easier to do this. We often hate what causes us pain. Let that hate flow through you, and feel the power of the Dark Side of the Force. This brings us to the next part.

Through passion I gain power.

Passion is your best weapon against addiction. It’s the one you best know how to use. Each minute in which you don’t smoke makes you stronger. Embrace the pain of withdrawal, and transmute it into a passionate hatred of your addiction.

Through power I gain victory.

If you learn to passionately hate your addiction, pure spite will keep you from returning to it. Each day smoke-free is a victory; each victory provides more confidence and pride.

Through victory my chains are broken.

Once you have felt the pride of victory and the triumph of will over a hated enemy, you will associate smoking with failure and enslavement. Your spiritual bondage to nicotine has been broken.

The Force sets you free.