Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Archives for September 2011

30 for 30 Project, 1991: “Losing My Religion” – R.E.M.

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You can read a lot of different meanings into “Losing My Religion,” but to me it has always been a song about the status quo, and how some people are better at changing than others.

I’ve never been good at change. Not in the short term, anyway.

In 1991 I had the opportunity to leave my small, private, religious school to attend a magnet-school program at Masterman, which was (and is still) the best public school in the state. I wanted to stay. Why attend a magnet school with other smart kids? The MG program I used to go to was lame. Wouldn’t this simply be all lame, all day? Yet, clearly I needed to leave – my grades were dipping as I grew increasingly bored with my classes.

In 1991 my interest in music waned. I was much more interested in reading. This might have been because records began to be phased out in favor of CDs. I remember the last vinyl LP we bought was Madonna’s Like a Prayer in 1989. We didn’t have a CD player in our house until 1994. I didn’t want one; I didn’t want to have to buy my cassettes all over again. Yet, clearly I fell behind – when I look at the hot singles and albums from the intervening four years, much of it is unknown to me.

I’ve never liked losing my religion, but eventually I learn how to move on.


(Watch me cover “Losing My Religion” on YouTube. For more info on my 30 for 30 Project, visit my intro post or view the 30for30 tag for all of the related posts.)

(1991 was one of the trickier years for me to choose because of my LP-to-CD gap. It was always going to be this or “I Touch Myself.” I would not be surprised if you hear Arcati Crisis covering this tune now that I know how to play it. I never realized it was so simple! I memorized all the changes in about twenty minutes; this was my first play through the song.)

DC New 52 Review: Static Shock #1

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Static Shock is the week one hero I know the least about. He’s young, his suit lets him manipulate energy, and he’s recently transplanted to New York.

That’s all I’ve got.

What makes it interesting is that it’s one of DC’s relaunched titles with an artist listed as a co-writer. That always intrigues me, as it doesn’t happen so often in my familiar home of X-titles. Does it mean a true writer/artist needed a minor assist on script-polishing? Or, that an artist with a solid connection to the character did more chiming in than usual in their collaboration with a writer?

More to the point: what does it say about quality. The one single-creator book this week was a knockout, but the other writer/artist collab was drab. Which side of the spectrum will this one fall on?

Static Shock #1

Written by Scott McDaniel & John Rozum, art by Scottt McDaniel with Jonathan Glapion & LeBeau Underwood

Rating: 2.5 of 5 – Okay

In a Line: “Not to sound all Keanu, but ‘whoah.’ This is definitely the coolest thing I’ve seen all day.”

140char Review: Static Shock #1 was the only DC reboot that felt like a comic for kids, with a Spider-Man-esque teen hero, explosions, and evil bad guys. Ok

CK Says: Consider it.

Static Shock seems to be DC’s nearest analog to Spider-Man, thanks to his by-day geekery, teenage gumption, self-narration, and relocation to the actual city of New York instead of one of DC’s imaginary amalgamated places.

Does it work? Hero Virgil is charming enough. He comes off as much older in costume than out, and his quips aren’t Peter Parker witty. More interesting is that his in-costume confidence isn’t entirely founded. Unlike Spider-Man, who tends to luck into solutions, Static Shock is so sure of the science behind his powers that he doesn’t consider that he’ll decommission a bridge full of cars by using them. He’s a cocksure teenager who is clearly still a rookie, and there’s a lot of story to be played out there.

It seems like writers McDaniel and Rozum put a lot of thought into the mechanics of how his electrical powers work, but watching our hero explain them in detail as he chases down passive bubble of plasma isn’t the biggest thrill ride. However, that’s just half the issue, as a team of mysterious Power Ranger esque mercenaries are now on Static Shock’s tail. The pairing seems like it will yield interesting fodder; how will Virgil (who fled the scene of his co-worker being shot) deal with merciless killers? If the writers follow through on the shocking final panel we’re going to find out pretty soon!

As an artist McDaniel is strong on action, but his normal people look awkward. He mostly relies on a straight-lined approach that eschews curves on limbs and faces. It makes for solid costumed panels, but the visit to our hero at home looks like a mediocre Sunday comic strip. (And, what’s with the random appearance of a non-speaking Joker in the background of a scene with the villains? Intentional, or a coloring error?)

The element that distinguishes Static Shock is that it’s completely kid-appropriate. From the quick-moving action to the relatable hero, this is the first week one offering I’d hand over to a younger reader interested in comics.

30 for 30 Project, 1990: “Vogue” – Madonna

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Look around, everywhere you turn is heartache. It’s everywhere that you go.

Last night I was idly surfing the web as I waited for today’s video to upload. I noticed a New York Times article titled, “In Suburb, Battle Goes Public on Bullying of Gay Students.”

You try everything you can to escape the pain of life that you know.

The article was about Anoka, the largest school district in Minnesota, which has a pervasive bullying problem that focuses on students that are perceived to be gay or lesbian, or come from LGBT homes.

(Apropos of nothing (or everything) the district is partially situated in Representative Bachmann’s Congressional district.)

Several students and their families have brought a lawsuit against the district, in part charging that, “district staff members, when they witnessed or heard reports of antigay harassment, tended to ‘ignore, minimize, dismiss, or in some instances, to blame the victim for the other students’ abusive behavior.”

When all else fails and you long to be something better than you are today…

The Anoka School District has seen eight suicides in the past two years. At least two of the students were gay, and possibly half of them had been known subjects of LGBT-focused bullying.

I know a place where you can get away: it’s called a dance floor, and here’s what it’s for.

Now the parents, families, and friends of these children will have their young image suspended forever in time, ageless and smiling, a pose that can never be unstruck.

Come on, vogue.

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All you need is your own imagination – so use it that’s what it’s for.

I don’t think it’s a spoiler to confess that I have plans for Madonna’s catalog for beyond this 30 for 30 Project, which is why I’ve been studiously avoiding her hits thus far. However, when it came to 1990 my list kept coming back to “Vogue.”

I tried to choose another song for 1990. I really did. Fans on Twitter suggested “Nothing Compares 2 U.” I spent a day trying to cover it, but I simply hate the song. I’m unable to let go of my eight-year-old’s obsession with the fact that it was ensconced at number one for five weeks while the more deserving “Vogue” waited patiently for its spot at the top.

Go inside for your finest inspiration. Your dreams will open the door.

I decided that if I was going to let Madonna into this project, I couldn’t try for perfection. My cover had to be something else entirely. In the spirit of the Material Girl, I turned it into a deliberately silly game of dress-up, donning some of my still-surviving (and surprisingly fitting) glam clothes from high school and doing a bit of dancing.

If I had read the article a day or two ago you might be watching a very different version of “Vogue” in this post. Something nearer to “Nothing Compares” – a dirge-like ballad that merges sorrow and joy.

Maybe I’ll still record it that way. For now, you get this ridiculousness. I hope you enjoy it.


(Watch me cover “Vogue” on YouTube. For more info on my 30 for 30 Project, visit my intro post or view the 30for30 tag for all of the related posts.)

It makes no difference if you’re black or white, if you’re a boy or a girl.

Take a long look at what I’m wearing in the video. That’s what I wore to high school, daily.

One of the plaintiffs in the lawsuit is a 14-year-old boy named Kyle Rooker, who is perceived by bullies as being gay because he wears glittering accessories and belts out Lady Gaga tunes in his school’s halls. He’s been subjected to humiliating bullying that the school has done little to stop. Beyond that, teachers are under strict orders not to teach or speak on gay rights, history, or acceptance – thanks to a large Christian influence on the district’s policies.

If the music’s pumping, it will give you new life.

In my born again Christian grade school I was a tiny stick-figure of a boy who hated playing sports and carried around a cassette tape case full of Madonna. It wasn’t the reason I was mercilessly teased and bullied, but I’m sure it wasn’t helping.

In middle school all the other boys said I walked with a switch and teased me because of how I cross my legs. It was the first time I ever heard the word “gay” slung as an insult. I changed the way I walked, but kept crossing my legs.

You’re a superstar.

In high school I wore skin-tight vinyl and body glitter, and painted my lips pale white – all to attend calculus class. Once in high school an older kid shoved me up against a locker, trying to intimidate me. I told him to go fuck himself.

Yes, that’s what you are.

In college I started to wear tight, low-rise jeans and stylish button-up shirts. Once at a party I mentioned I had worked as a summer camp counselor, and a guy said, “I thought people like you weren’t be allowed to work with little boys.” Ross offered to kill him for me, but I declined.

You know it.

Three years ago a neighbor defaced and vandalized the front of our house because I – the “queer” – got too fresh with him.

Men sometimes harass or threaten me from passing cars if I walk a certain way. I still won’t play the open mics at some bars because I know they won’t like it when I cover Madonna.

Come on, vogue.

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Beauty’s where you find it, not just where you bump and grind it.

It has always been a fact of my life that being who I am and saying what I feel gets me teased and bullied. That’s fine. I’m strong, and I don’t have to contend with the stigma of half a nation being set against my love life like some of my friends do, so hit me with your best shot.

I don’t know what I would do in Kyle’s place. Stop being me? Ditch the sparkles and singing and try to be more of a boy?

I don’t know. I hope he’s singing “Born This Way” in his bullies’ faces at the top of his lungs.

Soul is in the musical – that’s what I feel so beautiful. Magical. Life’s a ball.

In June of 1990 my mother took me to see Madonna’s Blonde Ambition tour as a reward for doing well in third grade. She was my favorite pop star.

So get out on the dancefloor.

We sat next to a pair of men who, in retrospect, were clearly a gay couple. I didn’t care. I thought it was cool that two older boys liked Madonna as much as I did. They thought it was cool an eight-year-old boy wanted to see Madonna and his mom decided to let him. Madonna closed the show with “Vogue.” All four of us were happy.

Come on, vogue.

It gets worse and then it gets better.

Let your body move to the music.

DC New 52 Review: Green Arrow #1

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Green Arrow rounds out my first week of DC New 52 reviews – just in the nick of time, as I’ll be reading week two books in a matter of hours!

I don’t have much of a preamble about Green Arrow, which is maybe why I left him for last. I know he can be a bit angsty and I had his Kenner Super Friend toy. That’s about all I’ve got.

I have a bit more to say about the art on this book. Jurgens was the cornerstone of the 80s and 90s, penciling everything from Avengers to Superman. When I see his name I think of handsome, broad-shouldered heroes and their petite, curvy sidekicks and love interests. Here he’s inked by Perez, another Avengers alum, was the master of the team book, and the man behind Wonder Woman’s post-Crisis relaunch (which I own and adore).

This is about as cold as I can come into an long-established hero. Will this all new take on him be the perfect introduction, or was I better off not knowing a thing? And how will two old-school talents translate into a New 52 book?

Green Arrow #1

Written by J.T. Krul, art by Dan Jurgens & George Perez

Rating: 2.5 of 5 – Okay

140char Review: Green Arrow #1, Batman/Hawkeye model of a young/cocky xtreme hero on a narrowly interesting adventure. Felt 80s/90s, esp. w/Jurgens pencils.

CK Says: Consider it.

GA defeats a foe on the river Seine.

Green Arrow presents a cocksure hero who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty or bloody when necessary, which earns him enemies both in the villain department and from within his own Queen Industries.

Not much happens in this issue, strictly speaking, but you could never call it decompressed. Krul packs word balloons into every panel, providing a style of constantly narrating hero that the 2000’s have eschewed thus far. Yet, despite the retro writing, Green Arrow is a modern take-no-prisoners hero.

The issue’s art straddles the same old-but-new divide. The Jurgens/Perez team-up lends the issue a decidedly 80s rough-hewn look – except for on GA himself, who is drawn more crisply throughout. The effect makes him seem a bit more high-tech than his surroundings, even if he is a guy with a compound bow. Add to that a modern coloring job and the art has the same nouveau retro feel as the writing. Jurgens’ background shots of Paris are especially great.

Green Arrow is a fun single issue adventure – the kind that ought to be in the hands of every eight-year-old comic reader in the world. It feels a little skimpy coming off of some of the highs of week one, but it’s an effective and interesting issue that’s worth picking up for the throwback vibe.

DC New 52 Review: O.M.A.C #1

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In 1974 legendary comics auteur Jack Kirby was falling out of favor with DC’s editorial staff thanks to his far-ranging yet low-selling Fourth World saga.

Deposed from the universe he wanted to cultivate, Kirby created a new and more cynical hero inhabiting our near future. His name? One-Man Army Corps, or OMAC. OMAC was a man, a symbol, and later a cyborg who policed a world living in enforced pacifism, inheriting his powers (and commands) from an Orwellian all-seeing satellite named Brother Eye. He spends his debut rescuing a damsel in distress who turns out to be both an android and a bomb.

Sound weirdly dystopian enough for you?

DC has brought back OMAC for a few different rounds of encores over the years, but it was still a surprise to see the book on the slate of 52 for this month. Would it bring newly imagined? Kirby-eseque delights? And, if it did, would they be worth reading in the modern day?

O.M.A.C. #1

Written by Dan DiDio & Keith Giffen, art by Keith Giffen & Scott Koblish

Rating: 1 of 5 – Bad

In a Line: “Probably in there organizing toilet paper … or something.”

140char Review: OMAC #1’s inconsistent artwork ruins a simple story that could’ve packed a bit of punch. Like a bad free comic in a box of stale 90’s cereal.

Plot & Script

The DiDio/Giffen is plain and easy to read. It reminds me of the comics I’d read as a kid.

I suppose DiDio is an old-school writer in that way. His dialog is plain and declarative, and he’s not above using the occasional narration box to advise on the action (which is great, since the action is so incomprehensible).

Nods to existing continuity will tickle if you know your DC Kirby history, as everything we meet in the underground Cadmus lab is a love letter to older readers. However, if you aren’t ready for the barrage of old-time Easter eggs OMAC’s series of obstacles will surely fall flat.

The problem is that this fails as a compelling debut. We see OMAC clear a number of obstacles, but don’t really get to understand what his powers are. He doesn’t have a character when in OMAC form, so really the only personality we get is the obstinate commands of Brother Eye.

For a book that could easily be something you’d hand to a kid brother, I don’t understand why the scrip makes a point of having a the female lead say “ass” twice. Oh, and the issue’s title (“Office Management Amidst Chaos”) is kinda dumb.

Artwork

Art team Giffen and Koblish don’t have a gift for figures or for action, which leaves little to enjoy in this issue of terrible artwork.

Okay, maybe that’s not entirely fair. More accurately, Giffen’s wide, plaintive faces seem to be a deliberate homage to OMAC-creator Kirby, but the modern gradient coloring renders them a too-busy mess. His bodies are a mess of mismatched limbs, perspectives, and proportions that make no sense. He seems to have a specific problem with placing a limb that’s partially obscured by someone’s torso that seems to indicate a failure in the fundamentals of anatomy.

Oh, and all of his men look like they are wearing MC Hammer pants.

There’s no helping Giffen’s incomprehensible action, which unfurls like freeze-frames from a low-budget video game. Movement simply doesn’t track from panel to panel. OMAC seems to have the ability to materialize projectiles from thin air, similarly vanishing their debris afterward. Punches from OMAC might to have the power to dissolve entire bodies beneath them, which is the only explanation for the totally whacked perspective in those panels.

And OMAC himself? Does his hair omit electricity? He looks silly to begin with, and the inconsistent scale of his limbs to the trunk of his body just makes things worse. Is he squat with long-reaching arms, or limber with lean muscular legs? Are his fists really bigger than his head? Apparently, all of the above. Maybe he’s a shape-shifter. You would never know the different from the artwork in this book.

From a graphic design perspective, this is one of my favorite logos of the relaunch. I love the layering of the letters.

OMAC’s 1974 debut, scripted and drawn by Jack Kirby.

CK Says: Skip it!

O.M.A.C. is an embarrassing failure on all fronts, a condition only amplified by the fact that writer Dan DiDio is DC Comics’ co-publisher.

The issue is not even exciting enough to warrant calling it a fun comic for kids – nevermind the two gratuitous uses of the word “ass” making it inappropriate. A flat, barely-existent script could have been a fun bash with a flashy penciler, but the Kirby-imitating, wildly-inconsistent art places this issue just a step above a comic you’d get for free in your cereal box.

Let’s hope this is the worst book of all 52 re-launched by DC, because I’m not sure how much farther downhill a marquee debut comic can go from here.