Warren Ellis is the most intriguing figure currently in comics. He’s fueled by energy drinks, alcohol, and cigarettes. Despite his disdain for them, his superhero stories stand above the rest. And his creator-owned properties are just out of fucking control. Every writer should aspire for Ellis’ mastery.

The trailer for Captured Ghosts, a 2011 documentary about the scribe, has hit the infonets. Peep that shit:

Way back in the day, during the beta-stages of OL, I did a feature on a dude named Nadim. This guy had bought a t-shirt from an old website of mine and was so enamored that he offered to rock a banner on his own site. Curious, I made my way to his piece of Internet real estate and discovered that he was an underground comics creator.

The thing is, Nadim is still a comics creator. He illustrates and co-writes Deadhead, a fantastic satire of superhero books. There’s Stoner, a telepath/telekinetic whose powers only manifest when, well, when he’s stoned. Alongside him is Apeman, a giant ape who was a world-renowned hero in the 1980’s but is now little more than the town drunk. And then there’s the titular character, Deadhead — a guy with no discernable powers but a strong desire to beat supervillain ass.

Corresponding with Nadim recently, he expressed concern that with Kick-Ass hitting the theaters his book would be perceived as nothing but a mere knock-off. I can assure you, that is not the case at all. Even though both titles feature powerless protagonists, they are quite divergent in theme and internal logic. While Mark Millar’s newest comic-turned-movie ostensibly takes place in the real world, Deadhead is about a real dude in an unbelievable world. In Nadim’s work, there are superheroes, but the main character just isn’t fortunate enough to be one.

Another major distinction is the fact that Deadhead is completely free. Seriously. If you hit up the website, you can download every single issue and the first trade paperback without cost. It’d be nice if you tossed starving artists some sandwich money, but at the very least go generate some traffic.

[source]

I’ve been sick recently. Really sick. As in, “We’re sorry Mr. Krueger, but we have no fucking clue what’s wrong with you!” Guesswork in white coats? Perhaps. But I’d rather take my chances with the guesswork of our 2010 medicine men than try to fight this shit on the Oregon Trail. Huzzah for being born in the future!

With nothing to do but sit around and hope Joe Black doesn’t try to filch my soul, I’ve been watching far more television than normal. Most of it has been garbage, but I’ve caught a few gems here and there. One of the best things I’ve seen in the past few days has been Stephen King’s Silver Bullet.

The 1985 flick takes place in a yokel town in Maine (where else, Stephen King, where else?!) that just happens to come under werewolf-attack. Every month, some poor sap gets torn to shreds and the townsfolk chalk it up to a regular, human maniac. Then Corey Haim figures out what’s going on, but no one believes him because he’s in a wheelchair. Well, his Uncle Gary Busey believes him but he’s an alcoholic so you know how that goes. Seriously, if I had a nickel for every time a good monster hunt went sour because of a drunk relative, well, I’d have twenty cents.

This movie is pretty fucking sweet. It’s got werewolves, swear words, bloody mutilations, rocket-powered wheelchairs, John Locke, and an evil priest. It definitely feels like a ridiculous 1980’s flick and I should hope that you’ll enjoy it as such.

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Spoilers Ahead. Forreal.

Shit’s late. I know. Normally I pump out Images & Words for Thursday consumption, sometimes even Wednesday. But this week I’ve been fighting the worst sickness I’ve had in years. This battle has included two trips to my primary care physician, a visit to the Emergency Room that lasted until 2:30 AM, and another voyage to Infectious Diseases. All in all, I stumped somewhere around eleven doctors. Huzzah? Oh wait, shit…

But despite feeling physically and mentally broken, I managed to read this week’s comic books. As they tend to, the comics lifted my spirits and helped me forget, if only for a few moments, just how miserable I was. It’s a magical gift, and truly part of the reason I will always return to the medium.

The comic book pick-of-this-week is Daredevil #506, which is hardly a surprise to me. Daredevil is easily the most underappreciated title of the last couple of years, even after Ed Brubaker departed with issue five-hundred. It feels like the only book from either of the Big Two Publishers that isn’t afraid to actually develop its characters rather than reeling in every progressive line cast. Matt Murdock is no longer a New York City attorney, but the leader of the global crime syndicate The Hand. He’s been trying to use The Hand for good — with mixed results. The one consistency, however, has been a refreshing and captivating monthly release.

This issue centers around Murdock’s attempts to bring together the Daimyos of The Hand’s various regions, despite their distaste for one another. The book opens with Daredevil and Bakuto, an outspoken critic of The Hand’s new leader, fighting off a pack of ninja assassins. Which, as you probably know, is a simple enough task — except that they’ve both been drugged. The result is a battle filled with all sorts of trippy visuals; Murdock looks like Satan, the ninjas look like ghouls, and the flashes of reality are grim & striking.

This sort of layered quality is present throughout the rest of the issue. There’s plenty of action in Daredevil, but it’s tempered with a story that keeps the reader guessing. Which of the Daimyos can Murdock trust? Is Bakuto really a villain? Was Elektra really on that page or was she just a vision? Writers Diggle & Johnston succeed in leading us to these questions while not instantly offering answers. There is a definite mystery to Daredevil and the title is the better for it.

The art provided by Marco Checchetto and colors by Matt Hollingsworth are simply perfect for this book. There is a real darkness to the imagery, conveying the sense that Matt Murdock is wondering through his own internal confusion. In fact, the brightest page of the whole book comes in the aforementioned opening scene, as a hallucinatory-moon shines onto the battle. Leaving a bit of a shroud around the characters really fits the tone at hand. Murdock is trying to sort out the mess in front of him and the reader has to occasionally strain an eye to do the same.

The other important visual characteristic worth mentioning is the range of subjects. Checchetto and Hollingsworth deftly work their way through crowded fights, evaporating skeletons, two-person conversations, dream sequences, and a slew of other varied scenarios. It’s always nice to have artists who can handle a variety of narrative styles within a single issue. And this is part of the wonder of Daredevil – we get to see the titular character travel through a number of different worlds. This isn’t just the rough urban environment Daredevil has become synonymous with, but a sort of mystical Japanese realm that harkens back to the days of feudal lords.

If you enjoy superhero comics, go snag Daredevil #506. It’s a worthy read, with writers and artists who know what they’re doing. Trust me. After all, I’m not an expert.

EddieKim made great use of the lyrics this week. Be on the lookout for

DJ, you build me up
You break me down.

Anyone who knows anything about metal knows that that means.

Ke$ha’s Tik Tok, performed in the style of Dr. Doom having a heart attack.

There is nothing in this world quite like good music. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of all media, but good music inspires me in a way that television, comic books, and even movies just don’t. I haven’t studied sociology or anthropology or any such shit, but I’m thoroughly convinced that music taps into some sort of primordial, tribal pleasure center of human beings. As though, in a sense, it might be one of the few comment elements that every member of Team Human can enjoy.

Whoa. Looks like I’ve tossed aside the cynic cap and fastened on my hippie helmet.

Keep Reading »

EddieKim strikes again! For the third week in a row, this headbanger has taken a hit from the Billboard charts and mutated it into a brutal metal anthem. I really think each has been better than the last.

This week, EddieKim tackles Lady Gaga’s Telephone.

I really feel sickness in the pit of my stomach. I say This is some trick going on here – this is not true, this is not real, this is not good.

The writer has no responsibility. Except to jack off in bed alone and type a good page.

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Spoilers Ahead. Forreal.

Admittedly, I’m not 100% comfortable with this week’s featured comic book. Most of the time, Images & Words showcases a comic that I could actually describe to another nerd. Yeah, the standard fare’s something along the lines of “In this book Superman fights the bad guys, saves Metropolis, and still manages to meet Lois for dinner.”

But this time around, I’m not quite sure what the hell is going on. I know that there is hilarious dialogue. The characters seem authentic and relatable. There are some bad ass fight scenes. And the art is just goddamn gorgeous.

So without knowing exactly what I’m getting into, the comic of the week is COWBOY NINJA VIKING #5!

Keep Reading »

Jay: You’re fucking kidding me! The Easter bunny did this?
Brodie: All I said was that the Easter bunny at the Menlo Park mall was more convincing and he just jumped the railing and knocked me down.
Jay: He’s fucking dead!
Brodie: Oh let it go, he’s under a lot of pressure.
[T.S. and Gwen approach them]
T.S. Quint: What the hell happened?
Jay: The guy in the Easter bunny suit kicked his ass.
Brodie: I had it coming.
Jay: [to Silent Bob] Fuck all that shit. Come on, Silent Bob.