Category: Uncategorized

Frank Quitely.

Not Frank Quietly.

Also: Frank Miller. Mark Millar.

It’s really not hard.

Thank you.

People do this sort of thing on blogs, apparently: Generate a random mp3 playlist.

Here are the 10 random songs that came up randomly after several random shuffles:

• Emperor Tomato Ketchup, Sterolab
• Last Dance, The Dirty Three
• The Lamb, Low
• Lie Dream of a Casino Soul, The Fall
• Fade Together, Franz Ferdinand
• Bells for Her, Tori Amos
• Chickfactor, Belle & Sebastian
• Our Time, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
• Where Is My Mind? The Pixies
• KB, Elastica

Nothing that I really love there. Where Is My Mind is classic, and Our Time may be my favourite YYY’s song. Weaker contributions from Tori, Belle, and Elastica.

Wow. I hit shuffle one more time, and a very good playlist came up. Pity I shan’t be able to impress anyone with it.

Long, long, long week.

We moved offices last Friday. This is stressful enough: Having to pack up an entire office, particularly when you only have two full-time employees, but everything went reasonably well: Everything was packed up and ready to go when the movers showed up. Yay for us.

But the wrinkle is that our new office was being renovated. And the renovations were behind schedule. While the movers had no problem collecting our stuff at the old office, they weren’t able to put things where they were supposed to be at the new office on account of all the drywalling and painting still going on. The wiring wasn’t complete, so our phone system couldn’t be intalled. This was okay, since it meant I could go home early.

On Monday, things were not much improve’d. More painting and drywalling to do, though the wiring was complete – they could set up our phones, if not the computer network. Mr. Publisher showed up for an hour for a meeting. I drank orange juice. Marketing Lass and I (Production Lad?) went shopping at Ikea for new furniture. Bought desks and a chair. Went home early.

Tuesday saw marked improvements. Most of the renovations were complete, so we set about unpacking. That is to say, we made preparations to unpack, which involved transferring various boxes and items of furniture from one room to another. It was like some bizarre logic puzzle involving two sheep, a velociraptor, and a small canoe. Much lifting involved. Too many books. Before lunch, I had realized I hated books. This may prove problematic if I am to continue a career in publishing.

On Wednesday, the network was working. Our internet was not. There was much gnashing of teeth. We unpacked the library and set all the accursed books in their proper place. Got as far as “R” before we realized we had missed a box containing a large portion of the letter “C”. There was considerably more gnashing of teeth, followed by mad hysterics of those whose brains have just snapped, which in turn was followed by considerable profanity. And then more laughter, profanity, and eventual re-organization of the bookshelf. Possibly even in that order.

I don’t even remember what happened on Thursday. Internet started working around 3, which meant we all had to read through nearly a week’s worth of email and attempt to respond to it in some sort of timely and organized fashion. I failed.

On Friday, I got some work done. And I assembled a new chair.

Then I went home, made fajitas and drank beer.

There will be a prize for the loyal reader who correctly guesses my favourite portion of the week.

No, it’s not a real prize. Something like “respect” or “love” or “lustful thoughts of Scarlett Johannson.”

Since one of my reasons for stepping down from the Review Editor gig at Comixfan was to devote more time to writing my own stuff, it seems prudent to resume writing my own stuff. This is my own stuff. Pedantic stuff of little interest to anyone beyond my immediate and stunted social circule, but my stuff nonetheless.

The world is very cool. There are many interesting and intelligent people doing wonderfully creative things. There are probably more dull and moronic fools doing utterly meaningless drivel as well – and probably amassing considerably more fame and fortune for it – but who cares. It’s like high school, in a way: The jocks on the football team are jerks, and the rich kids are stuck up and arrogant, but everyone’s still got their own group of friends who are worth hanging out with.

I’m not a huge Franz Ferdinand fan, but I’ve always loved the lyrics to Matinee:

I charm you and tell you of the boys I hate
All the girls I hate
The clothes I hate
All the wors I hate
How I’ll never be anything I hate
You smile, mention something that you like
How you’d have a happy life if you did the things you like

So I can bitch and complain about things – and boy, do I bitch and complain – but ultimately, I’m much happier talking about things I enjoy. This often involves comparing the thing I like to something less favourable, but what can you do? I’m not Mary Freaking Poppins.

So in brief, some things I am enjoying right now:

• Lucifer vol. 3: A Dalliance With The Damned. I’ve switched to trade format, as it’s totally the way to go for a series like this. Been catching up with some older volumes – I only started at around #25 – and dang, it’s some good stuff. I love Dean Ormston’s fill-in issues, and Ryan Kelly’s art is pretty spiffy, too. When Mike Carey’s on, he just sparkles: Great dialogue, intricate and unpredictable plots, and a great eye on the bigger picture.
• Angel, Season 5. I only got into Wedon’s stuff after both series were off the air, so this is a DVD thing. At times, I enjoy Angel more than Buffy; there’s just an element of darkness and ambiguity to it. Disc 4 is just bizarre: The hilarious Smile Time, the very serious and excellent You’re Welcome and Hole in the World, and the generally dull Why We Fight.
• The Impressionist, by Hari Kunzru. It’s a bit too Victorian at times – while I like the humour, the characters are too distant to really become attached to – but still a fun book. Very clever.
• Howl, by BRMC. Apparently they’re a blues/country/folk/gospel band now. And it works. I wonder how many fans absolutely hate it, though.
• You know, I haven’t seen a new movie for several weeks now. (Last Seen: The Aristocrats, which I loved) But fall is looking good, and the Toronto Film Festival is getting underway. Things I’m looking forward to include Takashi Miike’s Great Yokai War, Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, Terry Gilliam’s Tideland and David Cronenberg’s History of Violence.

There. See how happy and well-adjusted I am? Isn’t life just peachy?

I’ll be more coherent and in-depth next time. Honest.

Right then. So this blogging business didn’t get off to quite the right start.

My last update was around Xmas, and now it’s just after my birthday – that means I have more stuff.

My girlfriend has become quite proficient at buying stuff for me. She got me:

• The Invisibles, Vol. 1. Yes, I know. It’s shameful that I haven’t already read it, but I’ve only gotten into Grant Morrison’s work relatively recently. This is interesting stuff; not “Wow, I’m absolutely stunned” good, but enteretaining, and I’m planning to pick up the next couple volumes this week. I’ve always loved Jill Thompson’s work – Brief Lives was my first Sandman story – and her depiction of Orlando is nice and creepy. King Mob looks a little too much like his creator, though. I wonder: With KM and Ragged Robin, does Invisibles feature more prominent comic creators than other books?
• Owly, Vol. 1. How’s that for contrast? Owly is – yes, yes – an owl. He’s a cute litle guy who just wants to make friends. He has some problems with this, since owls are typically regarded as Winged Death. (nobody actually comes out and says that, but it’s fairly obvious) Everyone runs away, leaving poor Owly alone. One day, he saves a little worm who was drowning in a puddle. He looks after the worm, befriends him, then helps him find his way back home. Andy Runton tells the stories without any dialogue; the few speech balloons are filled with pictograms of houses, trees and families. It’s exceptionally well done, and just about the cutest thing you’re likely to read this year. “All Ages” is typically one of those terms applied to Disney direct-to-video pap, but Owly really is for anyone.
• Falling somewhere in between the cute and the S&M lies Chester Brown’s Louis Riel. Even better, a signed, limited edition copy. Not that I really care about collectibility, but it’s pretty neat nonetheless. I’ve just started reading it, and it’s quite interesting. People outside of Canada (and probably a good man within) won’t likely know the story of Riel, a French/Indian who rebelled against the Canadian government in the 1800’s. Beyond the story itself, I find it incredible that a comic about a Canadian historical figure drawn by an indie cartoonist could find such (relative) fame and success. It gives me hope for the medium.