Tag Archives: geek

Diablo House: Issue 01

I recently visited Spain, and while I was in Barcelona I was understandably impressed by the Gaudi architecture I saw there. For this reason, as well as my interest in 70’s horror comics on which I was raised, this new graphic series caught my attention.

The style of this is very similar to the horror comics of the 1970’s, where you have a host narrator who guides your through the tale, offering comedic commentary on the story. In “Diablo House,” the host is Riley, who is a cross between a California surfer dude, the Cryptkeeper, and Cousin Creepy. He guides the reader through rooms in the house, which is an architectural blending of Gaudi and Aztec style.

Judging from the first installment, it seems that each issue has a single tale with a moral, which I like, since I often find myself losing the thread of serialized comics. The story in this issue deals with greed, vanity, and insecurity, and how people will step on others in their insatiable quest for more money, power, and prestige. And of course, it has the moral twist about the negative ramifications associated with this type of obsession.

This issue definitely piqued my interest, so I will check out some more. If you are a fan of the classic horror mags, then you might find this interesting too. Check it out and feel free to share your thoughts. Cheers!

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“A.D. After Death: Book Three” by Scott Snyder and Jeff Lemire

This final installment has been sitting on my desk waiting to be read for a while now, and I finally got around to it. It is fairly long and I knew it would take me at least an hour to read it, so I was waiting until I had enough time to savor it.

As with the first two issues, this one is very text intensive. The story is extremely complex, dealing with memory, guilt, and cycles of rebirth in a post-apocalyptic landscape. And while I am feeling that the post-apocalyptic genre is getting a little hackneyed, this story is really fresh and interesting.

Jonah, the protagonist, has been undergoing treatments that prolong life indefinitely. The problem is, his memory gets more distorted after each cycle (the term used for the treatment). At one point, he conjures a memory of when he first went for the treatment. He is explaining to a woman Inez about why he decided to take the treatment.

I look down at my hands, as if there’ll be an answer there. “I suppose because I’m just… tired of being afraid all the time. Tired of feeling like my life is an egg I’m balancing on a spoon day after day. Because I just live in fear, and this…” and here I look up at her, “this just isn’t who I want to be.”

This paragraph made me think about people today. It seems that many people live their lives in fear, which is fueled by 24-hour news and social media. Not long ago, I had to turn off all my news sources. It had become toxic and made me feel bad most of the time. And like Jonah, I do not want to live in fear.

One of the most powerful moments in this book was when Jonah remembers his mother’s death. He recalls the horror reflected in his dying mother’s eyes, and undergoes an epiphany where he fully grasps why she was so horror-struck at her moment of death, as her psyche was flooded with memories.

And the terror in her eyes… the horror at knowing the truth.

But that’s where I was most wrong. I saw that now. All this time I thought the horror was at remembering–at seeing herself as she was, rather than how she’d hoped to be at the end.

But I knew now that wasn’t the case at all; she hadn’t been horrified at remembering.

She’d been horrified that she forgot in the first place.

That she’d lost her place in her own story.

I knew this to be true, because I felt that way now, felt it with every cell in my body.

Having watched someone close to me suffer the mental deterioration associated with Alzheimer’s disease, this concept haunts me. The thought that it is possible to forget everything that is important to you, all the experiences that make us who we are, is infinitely terrifying to me.

Towards the end of the tale, Jonah is contemplating death, and he realizes that to fully understand the experience of death is beyond the ability of the human mind to comprehend.

I thought of children, how impossible math is to a baby, or physics to a toddler, and I got the feeling that whatever death was, it was beyond my perception entirely.

Death is the ultimate mystery. In spite of all the mystical texts written about dying, regardless of all the near-death experiences, the truth is, we really do not know what happens. It will forever remain a mystery for us during our lifetimes.

One last word about this book: The ending is very ambiguous, but in a good way. The author carefully leaves the ending open for interpretation, and I love that. Too often writers feel the need to wrap up a story all nice and neat; but life is not really like that, and this story reflects the unknowns in life that we must interpret through our own experiences. I won’t say any more, because I am not one who likes spoilers.

Thanks for stopping by, and keep reading cool stuff.

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The X-Files – Issue 16

After swinging back and forth about this comic, I’ve decided it is time to let it go. I cancelled my standing order, and reading this issue affirmed that it was the right decision.

Although the writers tried to make the story relevant by adding snippets related to the tensions with North Korea, as well as issues with the current administration, the story is fragmented and fails to hold my interest. It’s somewhat sad for me, because I really love the X-Files and I have been a follower of the graphic series since its inception; but after several years, the creativity has dried up, in my opinion. And it doesn’t matter how many vague insinuations you weave into a story in an attempt to appeal to the conspiracy mentality, if there is not a cohesive story line, then it just does not work.

I honestly hope that the creative team concludes this series soon and focuses their efforts on something else.

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“American Gods” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 05 – The Symbolism of the Carousel

This issue, as with all the previous ones, is steeped with symbols. But I would like to focus on one in particular: the carousel.

What is it that draws people to a carousel? It is not a thrill ride, nor does it take you up to heights where you can look out across vast vistas. It just slowly goes around and around while carnivalesque calliope music is pumped out in an endless loop.

At the end of this installment, Shadow climbs aboard a carousel populated with mythical animals. The lights, the music, and the circular movement coax Shadow across the threshold of consciousness, resulting in a transcendent experience.

The rhythm of the “Blue Danube” waltz ripped and sang in his head. And for a heartbeat Shadow was a child again, and all it took to make him happy was to ride the carousel. He stayed perfectly still, riding his eagle-tiger at the center of everything, and the world revolved around him. Shadow heard himself laugh over the sound of the music. He was happy. It was as if the last thirty-six hours had never happened, had evaporated into the daydream of a small child riding the carousel at Golden Gate Park, his mother watching him, proudly hoping that the music would never stop, the ride would never end. Then the lights went out and Shadow saw the gods.

The carousel is symbolic of a mystical circle, a gyre with no beginning and no end. The animals represent the myths and symbols that populate our collective consciousness, which circle continuously throughout our history. And as you go around and around, in the cycle of life-death-rebirth, you eventually attain the childlike bliss and become aware of the divine presence.

As I meditate on this imagery, I cannot help but feel the desire to find a carousel and take a ride. I suspect my next spin will be quite different from all my past experiences.

Cheers!

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Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: Issue #7

It has been a full year since the last issue of Sabrina came out, probably because Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa was busy writing for the television show “Riverdale” (which I watched with my daughter and is quite good). Although it was a long wait, it was well worth it. The quality of this comic, in terms of both writing and visual artistic style, sets it in a class by itself.

Essentially, this is the back story concerning Sabrina’s father, Edward Spellman, who is resurrected and inhabiting the body of Sabrina’s boyfriend, Harvey Kinkle (a little Electra complex happening here). Edward recounts his initiation into the dark arts, his rise to power in the Church of Satan, and how he came to be imprisoned in the limbo dimension.

This installment is dark and disturbing on multiple levels. The content is macabre, the imagery intense, it is psychologically distressing, and the tale leaves the reader with a sense of tension and foreboding which is stoked by what is left unsaid. For truly, it is the unknown possibilities that stir the deepest fear within us, and Aguirre-Sarcasa is a master when it comes to leaving just enough of the story hidden to evoke the most profound terror in the reader.

Readers should be warned that this is not a comic for the timid. But if you love the macabre and long to peer into the stuff of nightmares, then get thee to the store and buy a copy.

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“American Gods” by Neil Gaiman: Issue 04

I recently had a discussion with my wife regarding the founding of the United States. We came to the conclusion that, although many Americans like to think the country was founded upon the principles of freedom, it was actually commerce and enslavement that were the driving forces that led to the founding of America. With that still fresh in my mind, I came upon an interesting passage while reading this installment of Gaiman’s “American Gods” series.

The important thing to remember about American history is that it is fictional. It is a fine fiction that America was founded by pilgrims seeking the freedom to believe as they wished. In truth, the American colonies were as much as dumping ground as an escape. In the days when you could be hanged in London for the theft of twelve pennies, the Americas became a symbol of clemency, of a second chance. Transportation, it was called: for five years, for ten years, for life. You were sold to a captain and shipped to the colonies to be sold into indentured servitude–but at least you were free to make the most of your new world.

Another part of this comic really interested me was the three sisters. Gaiman based his three characters on the Slavic myth of the two sisters who watched the stars for a sign that the universe was about to end.

In Slavic mythology, the Zorja (alternately, Zora, Zarja, Zory, Zore = “dawn”; Zorza in Polish, Zara-Zaranica (Belarusian: Зара-Зараніца), Zvezda, Zwezda, Danica = “star”) are the two guardian goddesses, known as the Auroras. They guard and watch over the winged doomsday hound, Simargl, who is chained to the star Polaris in the constellation Ursa Minor, the “little bear”. If the chain ever breaks, the hound will devour the constellation and the universe will end. The Zorja represent the Morning Star and the Evening Star.

The Zorja serve the sun god Dažbog, who in some myths is described as their father. Zorja Utrennjaja, the Morning Star, opens the gates to his palace every morning for the sun-chariot’s departure. At dusk, Zorja Vechernjaja—the Evening Star—closes the palace gates once more after his return.

(Source: Wikipedia)

In Gaiman’s retelling of the myth, he adds a third sister. It seems that Gaiman did this to also tie in the mythologies of the triple goddess, the three fates (Moirai), and possibly the three witches from Macbeth.

You wanted to know what I was looking at. The Big Dipper. Odin’s Wain, they call it. The Great Bear. Where we come from, we believe that it is a thing, not a god, but a bad thing, chained up in those stars. If it escapes, it will eat the whole of everything. And there are three sisters who must watch the sky, all the day, all the night. If he escapes, the thing in the stars, the world is over.

So far, I really love this series. Even though the artwork is a little weak, the quality of the writing makes up for it, and then some. I think I will have to reread the original text of American Gods at some point when this graphic series is finished.

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Vampirella: Issue #3

This issue could have been called “Campirella.” It’s a nod to the pulp fiction genre that began in the late 1800s and continued through the 1950s. The artwork, style, and content all recall the campiness of the genre.

Pulp magazines (often referred to as “the pulps”) were inexpensive fiction magazines that were published from 1896 to the 1950s. The term pulp derives from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed; in contrast, magazines printed on higher quality paper were called “glossies” or “slicks”. The typical pulp magazine had 128 pages; it was 7 inches (18 cm) wide by 10 inches (25 cm) high, and 0.5 inches (1.3 cm) thick, with ragged, untrimmed edges.

The pulps gave rise to the term pulp fiction in reference to run-of-the-mill, low-quality literature.

Pulps were the successors to the penny dreadfuls, dime novels, and short-fiction magazines of the 19th century. Although many respected writers wrote for pulps, the magazines were best known for their lurid, exploitative, and sensational subject matter. Modern superhero comic books are sometimes considered descendants of “hero pulps”; pulp magazines that often featured illustrated novel-length stories of heroic characters, such as The Shadow, Doc Savage, and The Phantom Detective.

(Source: Wikipedia)

Growing up, there were still pulp magazines available at the local stationary store. I used to read the campy detective magazines, as well as the graphic horror and science fiction. Although these publications were deemed the antithesis of literature, they did foster a love of reading for me which continues to this day.

There is something disturbingly timely in this bizarre throw-back issue. Vampirella is imprisoned in a concentration camp along with a variety of other individuals deemed to be social deviants. This included people of different ethnicities, LGBTQ persons, as well as individuals of different religious beliefs. And while the work camp is clearly a reference to the Nazi concentration camps, the people who are imprisoned there are the same groups who are currently being targeted here in the U.S.

At one point, the Commandant tells Vampirella why there will always be people to keep the factory running.

We have the world to choose from. There will always be malcontents.

The terrible truth of this statement is that a fearful and intolerant society will always find individuals and groups to direct their hatred and fear toward. Humans continue to exploit those who they see as different, and blame the “others” for their difficulties. Hopefully, one day we will transcend this cycle, at which point magazines like this will become a curiosity instead of a sad social commentary.

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