Everyone Needs an Editor: Cemetary

~ LobaBlanca

There are certain editorial errors that are like kryptonite to a word nerd. Every word nerd has something that affects them in a particularly nerve-scraping way, but, rest assured, denizens, we all have those niggling little pet peeves that simply drive us crazy.

Me? I have a few, but one of my definitive “wailing and gnashing of teeth” moments is this:

It’s probably because I am quite a morbid wolf, but I loathe seeing the word “cemetery” misspelled. There’s an episode of Scooby Doo that has it spelled this way, and I can promise you, it has always driven me a wee bit batty.

In other news, yes, I have returned. I’m appalled that April passed so quickly and left me with the lowest entry count I’ve ever had here at the lair (minus the first month of my revampitude). I can’t promise that I’ll be making daily entries…but I promise to strive to beat last month’s record. And look! I’m already halfway there! 😉

Welcome Home, Discovery

~ lobablanca

Something extraordinary just happened, denizens. I’ve been driving people crazy all morning about it. The Space Shuttle Discovery has come to her new home.

She left Kennedy Space Center early this morning; I heard her departure during my commute into work. I had wanted to take the morning off, join the rest of my geek peepz down at the Udvar-Hazy to watch her arrival, but I’ve got too much going on at work right now for that to be feasible.

Welcome to the Digital Age.

I still got to watch her arrival, thanks to a streaming video provided by NASA. Here are some screen captures, in case you missed the video:

Even better? My cousin was able to snap this shot of Discovery on her fly-by up the Potomac River:

Want better still? I got to see her on her fly-by. Totally unexpected. I didn’t think that my office would be anywhere near her flight plan. As I was waiting for the coverage video to start back up, I heard a group of my coworkers running around the corner toward our conference room. I swiveled around in my chair…and there she was, gliding across the cloud-dappled sky on the back of her chaperone.

AMAZING.

I have no photo of this moment…she was there for but a moment before streaking off into the ether…but I can still see it, replaying in my mind.

Silly as it might sound, this has made my morning.

Such bittersweet emotions right now. She shouldn’t be moth-balled for museum fodder, but I’m so thankful that I live in an area lucky enough to have been selected to give one of these beautiful shuttles a new home. I can’t wait for Udvar-Hazy to reveal her glorious debut. I’ll miss the Enterprise, but now it’s time for others to enjoy her.

Welcome home, Discovery.

Commemorative poster designed for Smithsonion National Air & Space Museum

Flashback Friday: Capsela

~ lobablanca

I’m sure you can tell that things are a bit crazy at the moment for the White Wolf. It’s astounding. Time is fleeting. Madness takes its toll.

But listen closely…because it’s Flashback Friday time!

(What? Did you really think I was about to Time Warp for you? Loba don’t dance…I don’t rock and roll either.)

So you know that whole “nature versus nurture” argument about…well, about everything pertaining to what makes us who we are? Well, in regard to geekery, I think it’s a fair argument to say that my dad played a very nurturing role in turning me into the geek who blogs before you today. Among his many nerderific influences was this delightful…well, I’m not really sure what to call it. It wasn’t a game. I don’t even think it’s fair to call it a toy. I suppose it was an educational toy.

It was Capsela. Like Lego on steroids.

The kit came with these strange spherical pieces that were designed to interconnect. Some were hollow, some contained gears, some contained little motors that you could power through battery packs. You also had wheels, belts, propellers, flotation balls, even a little light. I spent hours piecing together all the various components, creating fantastical ships, vehicles that spun in never-ending circles, lighthouses, or even a fan for my desk in the hot summer months.

Capsela gave me an enhanced level of confidence when it came to understanding the mechanics of things…a confidence that I still rely on whenever I’m faced with trying to figure out how to fix something. I think it’s a shame that they no longer make Capsela, because I think that having a stronger mechanical aptitude is important for anyone, but especially for girls. It’s bogus that this commercial that I found on YouTube is so blatantly geared toward boys.

Of course, if they had decided to market Capsela for girls, it would have come in hot pink plastic and had instructions for how to build a makeup case for Barbie. Maybe it’s better that they stuck with the boys in the marketing campaign. Nothing is more indecent than hot pink anything…

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXfla5LU8gc&w=640&h=480]

Flashback Friday: Magical Musical Thing

~ LobaBlanca

Stand back, denizens! It’s another one of those toys from the 80s loved by wacky suburban White kids!

Actually, the Magical Musical Thing hit the market in the late 1970s. It was, quite possibly, one of the silliest things I can remember from my childhood…and that’s saying a lot since I did have Strolling Bowling (and willingly admit to still having it stored in my closet).

The Magical Musical Thing was a long plastic stick, Smurf blue and trimmed in white (at least mine was). Along the spine were rows of pressure-sensitive pads, little color-coded rounded rectangles whose coloring always reminded me of billiard balls. Maybe this was the root of my future fascination with that game…who’s to say, really.

I remember going through the little music book that was included with the Magical Musical Thing, tapping out stilted renditions of classics such as “Oh, Susanna!” or “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” for a little while before growing bored and rubbing the Magical Musical Thing against the top of my head to make it make a noise not dissimilar to someone trying to cram a synthesizer up an android’s bum.

I had mad skillz when it came to the Magical Musical Thing, denizens.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywz7vN0GF_Y&w=640&h=480]

BookBin2012: Locke & Key: Welcome to Lovecraft

~ lobablanca

Okay, I’m just going to wait a moment while all you Cthulhu geeks wear yourselves out from your fannish squee frenzy.

…

All better? Good.

Yes, the subtitle of this first volume of what is currently a five-volume series (the fifth volume has yet to be released, however) is a sly bit of homage to that great proprietor of purple prose himself, H.P. Lovecraft. And, where else would the fair city of Lovecraft be located than in Massachusetts? I’m sure it’s quite close to Arkham and the prestigious Miskatonic University.

For the purposes of this graphic novel, Lovecraft is also the location of Keyhouse, the ancestral home of Rendell Locke, the family patriarch whose brutal murder during a home invasion sends his widow and three children on a cross-country journey from San Francisco back to the East Coast town he once called home.

Of course, any place located in a town named Lovecraft isn’t going to be level in any sense of the word. Keyhouse is vast, twisted, and full of secrets. Believe me when I say that you’ll be dying to learn them all.

Locke & Keye is a collaboration between celebrated genre author Joe Hill and artist Gabriel Rodriguez. I’ve raved about Rodriguez here at the lair already; he’s the artist behind the CSI graphic novels I’ve recently reviewed, the best being Secret Identity. I was so over-the-top happy to see more of Rodriguez’s exceptional art, which is even more impressive when he’s working with original characters rather than ones based on predetermined appearances. His visual translations of Hill’s bleak, unsettling tale spread through the pages of this novel in a rich, haunting diaspora.

I don’t want to go too far into the details of the story itself. Suffice it to say, the crux of the story is discovery…discovery of strength, of secrets, of keys to unlocking all the mysteries hidden within the confines of the Locke family’s new home and new life. Hill is a king among storytellers, and this is a shining example of his royally inherited prowess.

And if you think that last sentence was a little bit leading, you might have something to stand on there. I won’t say any more about it. I’ll just leave this photo of Joe Hill here, for you to ruminate on for yourselves…

Final Verdict: I completely enjoyed the first part of what I’m hoping to discover is a holistically creepy, captivating series. Bottom line is, if the subsequent volumes are even half as amazing as this first part, it’s going to be an awesome ride from here. I’ve already added this volume to my wish list (alas, this was yet another library loaner) and am contemplating whether or not to just dive in and collect them all. I do believe that my graphic novel collection is growing more rapidly than any other part of my library…and, with stories like this one lining up for consideration, I’m very much okay with that.

BookBin2012: Sin City: Hell and Back

~ LobaBlanca

This is an addendum of sorts to my last book review. Really, though, it’s not even going to be a review.

I have nothing to say about Frank Miller’s final Sin City entry, Hell and Back. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the story. Didn’t like the writing. Didn’t like the artwork.

Just didn’t like it.

I wish I had more to say about this book, but I really have nothing else I want to say. My response was decisive and persistent the entire time I read this book; to be honest, I actually dreaded this particular review because of my keen lack of interest or investment. I suppose it’s my fault for picking up the final volume in the series without having read any of the others. However, I also didn’t like the movie based on three other volumes from the series. I haven’t seen the film since it was at the theater, so I don’t remember specifics of why I didn’t like it. Of course, this speaks volumes, in my mind at least. If I can’t remember anything about it other than it left a lingering tang of disinterest on my palate, it’s obviously not going to be high on my list of re-watches.

Subsequently, this book isn’t going to be high on my list of re-reads. I’m also not in any particular hurry to track down any other volumes from the series. I can’t say I’m the least bit surprised by my reaction to this novel. I remember the hype surrounding Miller’s saga. In fact, this might be an early example of my hype deflector going into overload. The more I heard, the more marketing I witnessed, the more raging fanboy glee I watched, the less interested I became in this series. I’m sure there are earlier instances of simliar responses from me, but I can’t think of them right now.

Final Verdict: Meh.

BookBin2012: All-Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder, Volume 1

~ LobaBlanca

Well, there’s a mouthful of a title, right?

Seems that I went on a bit of a binge the last time I hit the local library, especially when it came to graphic novels. This time, I was surprised to find a couple of selections from Frank Miller’s catalog. I’ve been looking for Miller’s work to show up for a while now; mostly, I’ve been waiting for his Batman work as well as 300. I got part of my wish with this selection.

Even though it wasn’t The Dark Knight Returns, which is what I was hoping would show up, I was more than willing to give All-Star Batman & Robin a go. With this series, we get Miller’s take on how Dick Grayson found himself under the protection and training of Batman after events left them sharing a defining moment involving their respective parents (how’s that for vague?).

Mainly, I was drawn in (ha) by the fact that Jim Lee was the artist for this collection. Lee was an integral force behind the artwork of the X-Men back in the late 80s and 90s. He pretty much helped establish the appearance of that merry band of mutants to which I was first introduced through the Saturday morning cartoon that I still love. Not only that, he helped Chris Claremont create the character of Gambit, who was always one of my favorites on the cartoon. Also? Anyone who gets a vote of confidence from Chris Claremont definitely gets my vote, too.

Obviously, at some point Lee shifted his talents from Marvel to DC, which led to his teaming up with Miller on this retelling of the Boy Wonder’s arrival in the Bat Cave.

Taken in its entirety, this is an amazing collection. Miller’s dark sensibilities work well in conjunction with the world of the Dark Knight. This is not the glowing realm of Metropolis, protected by their alien immortal in bright patriotic splashes of blue and red. This is seedy, gray Gotham, full of characters composed of gritty complexity. There are rarely clear delineations between good and evil, as intent and integrity blur into the deep shadows that Lee so eloquently elicits through his artwork. Kudos should also be given to Scott Williams and Alex Sinclair, who were responsible for inking and coloring, respectively.

Where the weakness of this collection shows is where the weakness of most comics appear: the depiction of female characters. Miller’s women are vapid, vituperative, and vindictive, not to mention extremely objectified through language and artistic renderings. We meet Vicki Vale in her very skimpy lingerie. Later, we see her preening in anticipation of getting close to Bruce Wayne and his huge bank account. The Black Canary is a busty, bawdy barmaid with indecent curves and impossible heels. Wonder Woman…she was the greatest disappointment of all. Apparently, in Miller’s Gotham, a woman of strength and independence by default must be an angry, violent man hater secretly harboring crippling lustful urges toward the primary target of her man-hating ways.

Right.

Miller’s depiction of all the women in this collection was infuriating, but no take was more insulting or offensive than his on the Amazon goddess.

Plus, there’s the added insult of the comic-standard ass angle in which we see nothing but the…butt of whatever woman happens to be in frame at the present moment. What a dull, tedious angle, lacking in any artistic integrity or imagination.

That being said, I did find certain other choices by Miller to be intriguing. I liked that his Batman was just the least bit, shall we say, unhinged. Sure, he’s the Dark Knight. Yes, he’s a crime-fighter. But he’s not a “hero.” He’s surly, unpredictable, uncooperative and just a tad bit…cracked. He refers to himself as “the goddamn Batman,” which made me think of the awesome Twitter feed of the same name every time I read it. I’m assuming this comic is also from where the idea for Christian Bale’s gravelly, growly Batman voice came? Interesting. Works better in print form.

Final Verdict: I’m not really sure I want to add this to my library. As much as I love Lee’s artwork as well as many aspects of Miller’s re-imagining of Gotham and its Dark Knight, I didn’t feel any particular desire to revisit. This might change. If it does, I’ll let you know.

Flashback Friday: Roger Hargreaves

~ lobablanca

Goodness gracious! She still does Flashback Fridays?! We were beginning to wonder…

Yes, dear denizens, Loba has been a tad bit derailed as of late. Troubled, tumultuous waters surround us here at the lair. But rest easy; we’re safe inside. We’ve got rum and coffee and action figures and books and comics and DVDs of wonderful shows and movies for the geeky at heart.

And tonight we’ve got Roger Hargreaves.

I chose the author rather than his books because I realized that my little wolf library included quite a few offerings from his Mr. Men and Little Miss series. Oh, I loved these books. I wish I’d had more of them. I wish I still had the ones I owned. They were delightful little tales, full of whimsy while still getting across a poignant message in a childlike (though not patronizingly childish) way. Going through the list on the Mr. Men Web site, I’m actually surprised by how many of these books I owned. I was going to list out some of my favorites, but each page of the list I peruse brings back a new wave of happy as I remember how much I loved these stories. I can’t pick one or two. I can’t even narrow it down to two per page. They were all so delightful.

Last August 10 marked the 40th anniversary of Hargreaves’ Mr. Men and Little Misses. It looks like a couple of anthologies were released, but nothing in a price range that I can justify purchasing for someone almost as old as the series itself. Still, whenever I see these books in a store (which is admittedly not often; I don’t think they retained their popularity very long here in the States), I’m overcome by this pervasive sense of glee. And, no, no one is singing and Jane Lynch is never anywhere nearby when this happens.

Ba-dum-tsh.

A while ago, I discovered that there are a few Web site selling Mr. Men and Little Miss characters on T-shirts, including this rather extensive Zazzle collection. I’ve never purchased one as I have the same problem with the shirts as I do with the books: I simply can’t narrow down my choices. However, if you’re ever so inclined to buy one for me, I’ll let you decide which one best suits my personality.

And I’ve really set myself up on that one, haven’t I?

BookBin2012: Deogratias

~ LobaBlanca

After stating in my last review that I find fictional uses of September 11 to be disconcerting, it’s a strange twist for me to then turn to a graphic novel recounting of the 1994 Rwandan genocide.

Truth is, the deeper down the graphic novel rabbit hole that I dive, the more blown away I am by the creativity and introspection shown by the amazing artists I’m discovering. When I saw Jean-Philippe Stassen’s Deogratias: A Tale of Rwanda, I didn’t think twice about grabbing it from the library shelf. David Beauchard and Craig Thompson have more than convinced me that this medium is not only capable of respectfully dealing with tough topics, but it is also in many ways more appropriate when dealing with things that escape the limits of language itself.

I should have been clued in by the expurgated length of this novel that it wasn’t going to be terribly provocative; however, the topic alone more than fulfills that expectation. Even nearly 20 years later, I still can’t wrap my brain around how the world sat by as so many lives were brutally snuffed from existence. Then again, most of the things that humanity does to itself elude my understanding. The one thing that humans will probably never truly understand is human nature.

Stassen tells a very carefully controlled story, centering on the titular character Deogratias (a Latin liturgy meaning “thanks be to God”). We experience the outbreak of violence through this teenaged boy’s view as he watches his Hutu kinsmen rise up against the local Tutsi. Interspersed are moments embedded 5 years after the fact, in which we see how the events have irrevocably altered him…alterations that Stassen conveys in a rather interesting visual choice.

In some ways, it feels almost disrespectful to have condensed the events of this genocide into such a short novel. Then again, I don’t necessarily think I would have been able to absorb a visual account any longer than this, considering how bleakly explicit Stassen’s artwork became at times. There are some things you simply don’t need to see to comprehend how awful they were.

An obvious comparison at this time would, of course, be Art Spiegelman’s Maus, not only for the graphic treatment of a graphic historical event, but also for shared allegorical elements. Spiegelman’s groundbreaking novels, however, are far more complicated than Stassen’s tale. Still, I believe that Stassen pays subtle but deserved obeisance to Spiegelman’s novels through certain choices in his storytelling.

Final Verdict: As an interlude to something more probing and holistic, this is worth the time to read; however, as a stand-alone, it falls short of the greatness to which it could have transpired.

BookBin2012: Fangland

~ lobablanca

Apparently, I’m on a bit of a vampire kick at the moment, eh? The truth of the matter is that I had planned the back-to-back vamp-a-thon I just completed, but I had no intention of reading anything else. Then, during a recent stroll through the local library, I stumbled across John Marks’ Fangland. I’d never heard of it before but the cover art was sparse and striking and…well, yeah, I’m in a bit of a bloodsucking mindset right now.

Do with that statement whatever you will, denizens.

I admittedly had trepidation when I first started reading this novel. I’m still feeling the rush of rage through my veins that yet another book has besmirched the darkness of the original Dracula. The fact that it was Stoker’s own kin makes the rage that much brighter. Was this going to be yet another book that devolved into ridiculous notions of vampire romanticism and eroticism? Or would we finally get this bloody bullet train back on track?

Oh, denizens. This story is dark…dark as tumbling untethered and unlit into the Mariana Trench. In some ways, I think this might actually be a darker story than even Bram Stoker imagined for our vicious immortals. Marks is deliciously diabolical as he spins a tale that is both respectful of the original novel and more than ready to push beyond the limits of the original’s boundaries. He also shows a level of deference to the original text that delighted me immensely. His story unfolds in a modern update to Stoker’s epistolary telling, through e-mails, diaries, newspaper clippings, and various other first-person accounts. Just as with Stoker’s story, this approach is almost purely subjective, leaving us with that same sense of uncertainty regarding whether what we are reading is to be believed or filed away as some form of communally shared mental breakdown.

Plus, he named his heroine Evangeline Harker, which I admit was what ultimately convinced me to check out this book after the cover first hooked me. Once I dove into the novel, I found other characters who obviously fed upon the legacy of predecessors such as Van Helsing, Lucy Westenra, and Renfield in different and familiar ways.

I’m not going to state here that this is a perfect tale. There are admittedly several aspects that I either found uninteresting or unpleasant. I’m still not all that comfortable with the events of September 11, 2001, being used as a means of propelling along fictional storylines. However, Marks uses the memory of that and other modern and historical atrocities to great effect and in such a way that works to strengthen the impact of his tale. It’s also part of the revelation of who and what Marks’ vampire is, and is ultimately the moment in which I felt that Marks surpassed Stoker in dark imaginings.

For full disclosure, Marks does use sex in this novel, but in its basest, darkest form. These characters wield sex with bleak precision for sinister purposes. There is no sparkly sexeh time here. There is, however, evisceration, immolation, desecration, mutilation, exsanguination, exploitation, and a whole lot of mental deterioration all across the board.

This story is a hot, crazy mess, denizens, and it drags you bleeding and sore over its twisted remains at discomfiting speeds. You might not like where it takes you, but it’s one hell of a ride.

An interesting side note that I discovered while looking for a cover image is that, apparently, John Carpenter was slated to direct the movie version of this novel back in 2007. There was even talk of Hilary Swank being cast as Evangeline Harker. I’m not sure what happened, although it looks like the writer strike that year derailed these plans. Neither Carpenter nor Swank is still attached to the project; rumor now has it that Wes Craven might be directing it. I’m on board for that. I’d rather see his take on this tale than watch him waste his time on another Scream.

Final Verdict: If you prefer sinister vampire mythology over sparkly treacle, then you might be in the market for just this novel. I’ve returned the library copy I had, but I do believe I will be adding this to my wish list for future acquisition.