3) Attempted vehicular homicide.
I used to be on the other side of the fence with this one, especially after they blew up Vince McMahon’s limo and Chris Benoit decided to do what he did a couple of weeks later. By then, they already started overusing this gimmick (especially when running over other wrestlers), but when done right, it can be pretty cool. There have been several excellent moments with vehicular assault, battery and defacements.
Awesome:
Not awesome:
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Shotgun Says: I'll Stick Around.
So, it's not going away just yet . . . stick around and see what's next . . .
5 Things in Pro Wrestling That Need to Go Away #4
 |
| Wrong Dixie Carter |
Corey Henson will try to convince you that there are four reasons to watch TNA. They are:
1) Sting can imitate a guy who won an Oscar after he died. (I bet Rich Little can too.)
2) Even a blind squirrel can find Bubba Ray Dudley once in a while.
3) Dixie Carter finally figured out what half a million wrestling fans already knew.
4) TNA has consistently booked a WWE reunion tour from 5 years ago ever since Impact debuted.
Okay, so that’s out of the way.
TNA has a lot of issues in general that prevent them from succeeding, and I won’t list all of them here specifically. I can tell you that many of those issues began when Dixie Carter took control of things, even before she became the spotlight-seeking on-air character she is today.
Wrecking Ball by Bruce Springsteen and The E. Street Band: The Shotgun Review by Russell Burlingame
Russell Burlingame is A Russ but not The Russ. Russell joined some of us at Blog@, then Best Shots, then made his way here. These days he does a lot for ComicBook.com and other sources. And yes, he reviews music, too . . .
With the most overtly political album of his career, Bruce Springsteen returns in March with Wrecking Ball, his best LP since 1988's Tunnel of Love and a record that's as prescient now as was Born in the USA when it was released.
Born in the USA is, actually, an apt comparison in many ways. That record was Springsteen's first major foray into the realm of the political, and it was both musically and politically misunderstood by many. Like the title track “Born in the USA”, which was largely perceived as a jingoistic anthem and even briefly co-opted by then-President Ronald Reagan, Springsteen's first single of 2012--“We Take Care of Our Own,” which he and the E Street Band played at the Grammys—has an upbeat tempo and seemingly optimistic refrain that hide its skepticism. The apparent enthusiasm and boundless patriotism of "We Take Care of Our Own" is on display front and center, but the real question is whether that narrative—the idea that Americans come together and take care of the least among us—is really true in an era where the wealthiest 1% get hundreds of millions in tax breaks while as a society, we argue about how—or whether—to pay for a healthcare program to be sure the poor and infirm are cared for.
An eclectic album that blends Springsteen's signature rock sound with some of the folk, gospel and country influences he's picked up in recent years while playing with the Seeger Sessions Band as well as elements of Celtic rock, hip-hop and Woody Guthrie-esque protest, Wrecking Ball is a revelation for Springsteen, reinventing the artist whose last pair of studio records were good-but-not-great efforts that seemed to coast on the artistic and thematic largesse of his fan- and critical-favorite 2002 comeback record The Rising.
With the most overtly political album of his career, Bruce Springsteen returns in March with Wrecking Ball, his best LP since 1988's Tunnel of Love and a record that's as prescient now as was Born in the USA when it was released.
Born in the USA is, actually, an apt comparison in many ways. That record was Springsteen's first major foray into the realm of the political, and it was both musically and politically misunderstood by many. Like the title track “Born in the USA”, which was largely perceived as a jingoistic anthem and even briefly co-opted by then-President Ronald Reagan, Springsteen's first single of 2012--“We Take Care of Our Own,” which he and the E Street Band played at the Grammys—has an upbeat tempo and seemingly optimistic refrain that hide its skepticism. The apparent enthusiasm and boundless patriotism of "We Take Care of Our Own" is on display front and center, but the real question is whether that narrative—the idea that Americans come together and take care of the least among us—is really true in an era where the wealthiest 1% get hundreds of millions in tax breaks while as a society, we argue about how—or whether—to pay for a healthcare program to be sure the poor and infirm are cared for.
An eclectic album that blends Springsteen's signature rock sound with some of the folk, gospel and country influences he's picked up in recent years while playing with the Seeger Sessions Band as well as elements of Celtic rock, hip-hop and Woody Guthrie-esque protest, Wrecking Ball is a revelation for Springsteen, reinventing the artist whose last pair of studio records were good-but-not-great efforts that seemed to coast on the artistic and thematic largesse of his fan- and critical-favorite 2002 comeback record The Rising.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Top Cow: Not Just T & A by Lan Pitts
Lan, he of Best Shots and Blog@ and more, holds forth on Top Cow . . .
"You can never judge a book by its cover."
However in the case of comic books, most retailers and consumers do. The waves of super-hero titles and familiarity cover today's shops, because that's what supposedly sells and a lot of readers aren't taking many risks due to the rising costs of books themselves. I have seen Vertigo and Boom! doing $1 first issues to try and ensnare new followers, and for the most part, it's worked for me. Vertigo's <b>The Unwritten</b> started out like that and it's one of my go-to books. Now in my line of work, I have a small obligation to try and recommend strangers, as well as my best friends and colleagues, to try something new.
Four years ago, I had reviewed <b>Dragon Prince</b>, an all-ages fantasy book published by Top Cow and was written by Ron Marz with art by his current <b>Shinku</b> collaborator, Lee Moder. I had given a pretty substantial praise about it, mainly since Marvel/DC were both in the middle of a mega-event. I think DC had Batman RIP and Final Crisis going on at the same time. There was really nothing out there that a kid could just pick up and enjoy without having to buy everything else to have a cohesive story. Dragon Prince was a four-parter and easy to understand and enjoyable. The kicker is still the fact that it was published by Top Cow.
Top Cow did an all-ages book without their trademark t'n'a shots? What?
Well, yeah. Because that's what the common consensus is about that publisher and what they represent. Shortly after I reviewed Dragon Prince, I realized that Marz had been writing one of Top Cow's staple books, Witchblade. Now I didn't even know Witchblade was still relevant, much less being written by one of my favorite comic writers growing up. To me, Top Cow was still seen as "those" kind of books you really enjoy when you're thirteen and then realize how shallow and one-dimensional they really are. That's mainly because writers were constantly trying to have Sara in the silliest of outfits and situations that required four butt shots in maybe a five-paneled page. Though, after, I was told I'd actually enjoy this if I loved things like FX's The Shield. So, I gave it a shot with a random issue, but it was the beginning of a new arc and everything just felt right. I didn't feel left behind, or like I was missing out on something. It read amazingly well. Marz didn't complicate things, but still had a consistent level of layered storytelling that made me want to come back. Sara was no longer in hooker-like or risque outfits, but sensible and professional attire. Even the Witchblade evolved into full-scale armor and not just conveniently-placed plates.
Also, add the fact that Sara had matured and accepted her role as this supernatural avenger. It really did read like Supernatural meets The Shield. Sara and her boyfriend/partner Patrick Gleason had been basically turned into Mulder and Scully and investigated supernatural crimes and instances, but with Scully having a mystical weapon that can shred demon faces off. This is hardly the same woman that burst onto the scene almost fifteen years ago. Calling Top Cow cheesecake or something aimed at pre-teen boys is an inaccurate summary. They publish terrific horror as well. The much-acclaimed <b>Echoes</b> was brought to you by the Cow, as well as non-supernatural superheroics (Velocity and Madame Mirage). I just think their past image does not reflect well on them now and people are unaware of the evolution they've gone through. It's like a restaurant you used to like as a kid, but then your tastes get more sophisticated so you stop going, but then you hear they're under new management and really doing great for themselves.
So on that note, I say why not change up your pallet and take a bite over at Top Cow. I'm sure your pullbox will thank me later.
"You can never judge a book by its cover."
However in the case of comic books, most retailers and consumers do. The waves of super-hero titles and familiarity cover today's shops, because that's what supposedly sells and a lot of readers aren't taking many risks due to the rising costs of books themselves. I have seen Vertigo and Boom! doing $1 first issues to try and ensnare new followers, and for the most part, it's worked for me. Vertigo's <b>The Unwritten</b> started out like that and it's one of my go-to books. Now in my line of work, I have a small obligation to try and recommend strangers, as well as my best friends and colleagues, to try something new.
Four years ago, I had reviewed <b>Dragon Prince</b>, an all-ages fantasy book published by Top Cow and was written by Ron Marz with art by his current <b>Shinku</b> collaborator, Lee Moder. I had given a pretty substantial praise about it, mainly since Marvel/DC were both in the middle of a mega-event. I think DC had Batman RIP and Final Crisis going on at the same time. There was really nothing out there that a kid could just pick up and enjoy without having to buy everything else to have a cohesive story. Dragon Prince was a four-parter and easy to understand and enjoyable. The kicker is still the fact that it was published by Top Cow.
Top Cow did an all-ages book without their trademark t'n'a shots? What?
Well, yeah. Because that's what the common consensus is about that publisher and what they represent. Shortly after I reviewed Dragon Prince, I realized that Marz had been writing one of Top Cow's staple books, Witchblade. Now I didn't even know Witchblade was still relevant, much less being written by one of my favorite comic writers growing up. To me, Top Cow was still seen as "those" kind of books you really enjoy when you're thirteen and then realize how shallow and one-dimensional they really are. That's mainly because writers were constantly trying to have Sara in the silliest of outfits and situations that required four butt shots in maybe a five-paneled page. Though, after, I was told I'd actually enjoy this if I loved things like FX's The Shield. So, I gave it a shot with a random issue, but it was the beginning of a new arc and everything just felt right. I didn't feel left behind, or like I was missing out on something. It read amazingly well. Marz didn't complicate things, but still had a consistent level of layered storytelling that made me want to come back. Sara was no longer in hooker-like or risque outfits, but sensible and professional attire. Even the Witchblade evolved into full-scale armor and not just conveniently-placed plates.
Also, add the fact that Sara had matured and accepted her role as this supernatural avenger. It really did read like Supernatural meets The Shield. Sara and her boyfriend/partner Patrick Gleason had been basically turned into Mulder and Scully and investigated supernatural crimes and instances, but with Scully having a mystical weapon that can shred demon faces off. This is hardly the same woman that burst onto the scene almost fifteen years ago. Calling Top Cow cheesecake or something aimed at pre-teen boys is an inaccurate summary. They publish terrific horror as well. The much-acclaimed <b>Echoes</b> was brought to you by the Cow, as well as non-supernatural superheroics (Velocity and Madame Mirage). I just think their past image does not reflect well on them now and people are unaware of the evolution they've gone through. It's like a restaurant you used to like as a kid, but then your tastes get more sophisticated so you stop going, but then you hear they're under new management and really doing great for themselves.
So on that note, I say why not change up your pallet and take a bite over at Top Cow. I'm sure your pullbox will thank me later.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Indiana Nerd by Kimmi Markovich
It’s already the second decade of the new millennium, eleven years after 2001, two years after 2010, and forty nine years out from 2061. These years are important from a geek standpoint, as they are the years in Arthur Clarke’s series of novels painting a picture of that space future we all imagined when we taped glow in the dark stars to our bedroom ceilings. It’s kind of sad to me that 2001 and 2010 have come and gone and we haven’t realized many of the aspirations that one of the greatest science fiction writers thought feasible. I guess progress isn’t as easily conceived and implemented. No worries though, we are making science fiction more realistic and less fiction every day! I never would have thought I would have a touch screen phone space phone. Remember when the touch screens at the museum were the coolest when you were little? And now most of us carry a better one around in our pocket.
I geek out on the Star Wars. Yes, there are many other things I enjoy, like organic chemistry, micronutrient metabolism, and comic books, but Star Wars has been my one true geeking love for a long time. It all started in first grade when the obviously underfunded Catholic school I went to only had used, taped up books. However, the Return of the Jedi picture book caught my eye, and I would park it on a beanbag to read it over and over. My voracious appetite for Star Wars continues to this day, much to the dismay of my conservative mother, who is holding out that it’s still a phase. I guess a 25 year old who is not into the traditional timeline of what you are “supposed” to do wasn’t what she had planned for a daughter; that and the whole “No, I’m a woman of science” discussion. Being labeled a geek was never a good thing for me, I didn’t have lots of friends, I got beaten up and teased, but it never really mattered once I rode my bike down to the library. I used to get lost in far away worlds or get wrapped up in learning about the inner workings of our own. Yes, I did want to be pretty and not have a weird haircut, glasses, and a frightening lack of hand eye coordination but all of those pressures really slipped away once I walked into the Lake County Public Library. Reading, to me, made everything seem okay, like these characters assured me that one day I would be really happy.
Reunited . . . and It Feels So Good by Steve Ekstrom
Steve Ekstrom joined Best Shots and Shotgun almost simultaneously, covering comics and wrestling. In addition to writing for Newsarama and elsewhere, Steve's written a number of comics and webcomics that appeared via places like Zuda, Top Shelf 2.0, and Image's Negative Burn. Today, he addresses a sad time in the history of Shotgun, a time when two contributors decided to try to kill each other online. No, not that time . . .Most Shotgunners will recall the vicious debates Kevin Huxford and I had regarding our feelings about the One More Day/ Brand New Day outcome and the aneurysm inducing story logic of Post-Civil War era (haha) Spider-Man when he gave Mephisto a good ol’ fashioned “Devil’s Handshake” to save Aunt May.
[Did you know that a “Devil’s Handshake” is slang for an old fashioned handski? But I digress…]
We said a bunch of really explosive clap-trap directed at personally wounding each other and the whole thing devolved pretty quickly away from Spider-Man and good-natured debate. We avoided each other like the plague in mutual friends’ Facebook feeds and went our separate ways. I admittedly took a lot of what was said to heart, pulled my green Dr. Doom cowl close and shook an iron-fisted cry for vengeance into the sky.
And then? I felt really stupid; immature even.
[Did you know that a “Devil’s Handshake” is slang for an old fashioned handski? But I digress…]
We said a bunch of really explosive clap-trap directed at personally wounding each other and the whole thing devolved pretty quickly away from Spider-Man and good-natured debate. We avoided each other like the plague in mutual friends’ Facebook feeds and went our separate ways. I admittedly took a lot of what was said to heart, pulled my green Dr. Doom cowl close and shook an iron-fisted cry for vengeance into the sky.
And then? I felt really stupid; immature even.
 |
| This is what Yeats meant by "terrible beauty". |
Spit Takes: Six Things I Never Want to See in a Movie Again by Kyle DuVall
We knew Kyle in The Day. He went to high school with me, Shawn, and others of note, and he was on the scene of more than one classic Icicle Thieves performance. A fine magazine writer and a Shotgun and Newsarama veteran, Kyle has long pontificated on film and had his own Shotgun column, Spit Takes.
At what point does cliche cross the line and become a convention? Are conventions just cliches grown so omnipresent we simply lack the energy to bitch about them anymore? There are multitudes of ridiculous contrivances, narrative absurdities and scientific impossibilities on cinema and TV screens that we just accept without question, but there needs to be a statute of limitations on supension of dibelief. Lets call for a moratorium on some of these narrative place-holders. Then we can go about the business of building new cliches so our kids will have tropes to whine about when they’re beaming holo entertainment directly into their brain implants.
Air Ducts:
Contrary to popular belief, the greatest obstacle facing the forces of evil is not a wronged man with nothing to lose, or a mother protecting her child at any cost, or even the good will of honest men, it’s central air.
How many megalomaniacal cinematic schemes have been thwarted by a conveniently located air duct and a secret headquarters honecombed by labyrinth of ventilation shafts. Air ducts have screwed the eminent likes of Auric Goldfinger, Hans Gruber, and the Galactic Trade Federation. And since turnabout is fair play, air ducts have even screwed the space marines in Aliens. When screenwriters get their heroes confined in a jam they are not smart enough to write them out of, theres always the good ‘ol air duct gag to fall back on,
My favorite recent example of this tired convention showed up in the overcooked 2010 film Hanna, in which the film’s eponymous adolescent assassin escapes an underground base via air ducts so cavernous they put the Mines of Moria to shame. The only amusing thing about the sequence is picturing the massive, death-star size HVAC units the bad guys must have that require such cathedralesque ventilation shafts.
Every time I see this cliche I think of two things: first, that the villain of the piece has never seen any movie ever, and two, that when I take over the world my secret diabolical clubhouse will be climate controlled solely by baseboard heaters and window AC units.
At what point does cliche cross the line and become a convention? Are conventions just cliches grown so omnipresent we simply lack the energy to bitch about them anymore? There are multitudes of ridiculous contrivances, narrative absurdities and scientific impossibilities on cinema and TV screens that we just accept without question, but there needs to be a statute of limitations on supension of dibelief. Lets call for a moratorium on some of these narrative place-holders. Then we can go about the business of building new cliches so our kids will have tropes to whine about when they’re beaming holo entertainment directly into their brain implants.
Air Ducts:
Contrary to popular belief, the greatest obstacle facing the forces of evil is not a wronged man with nothing to lose, or a mother protecting her child at any cost, or even the good will of honest men, it’s central air.
How many megalomaniacal cinematic schemes have been thwarted by a conveniently located air duct and a secret headquarters honecombed by labyrinth of ventilation shafts. Air ducts have screwed the eminent likes of Auric Goldfinger, Hans Gruber, and the Galactic Trade Federation. And since turnabout is fair play, air ducts have even screwed the space marines in Aliens. When screenwriters get their heroes confined in a jam they are not smart enough to write them out of, theres always the good ‘ol air duct gag to fall back on,
My favorite recent example of this tired convention showed up in the overcooked 2010 film Hanna, in which the film’s eponymous adolescent assassin escapes an underground base via air ducts so cavernous they put the Mines of Moria to shame. The only amusing thing about the sequence is picturing the massive, death-star size HVAC units the bad guys must have that require such cathedralesque ventilation shafts.
Every time I see this cliche I think of two things: first, that the villain of the piece has never seen any movie ever, and two, that when I take over the world my secret diabolical clubhouse will be climate controlled solely by baseboard heaters and window AC units.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
HEY! We're still going!
That's right. We're rolling till at least Wednesday. Check in Monday for more . . .
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Rock: Fiction by Joanna Lees
“MUD!”
The mud matched the flat grey of the desert plain so well that we were half a dozen steps into it before Lee shouted. It closed around our ankles and slid over the tops of our boots, tepid and clinging as we scrambled back to solid ground. Horace got out first and stood like an anchor, giving us each a hand out of the suction that threatened to pull us under.
Lee was the first one in and the last one out. The second his feet touched the cracked earth again he dropped his pack and fell flat on his back. “I hate this planet,” he muttered, his chest heaving from the narrow escape. “I mean it. All it’s done for five days is give us the finger.”
Mack leaned over with her hands on the knees of her grubby, tan flight suit. “I’m not complaining yet,” she muttered. “We got out of the ship in one piece, didn’t we?”
Horace unhooked the dented metal canteen from his belt and unscrewed the cap. Fine sand grated in the threads. “Mack’s right,” he said, taking a sip and passing it to me. “It coulda been a lot worse.”
Friday, February 24, 2012
Addicted to Reality TV by I. Burtan
Ms. Burtan met us via the Chicago Extension Office. That is, she was a friend of Janelle and the Shots in the Dark crew. After meeting up with us at one of the more legendary Wizard World Chicagos, she joined the group both here and at Newsarama, on occasion. She's here to lend some professional insight into a rather modern addiction . . .
Perhaps because I have spent the past semester poring over textbooks on addictions, perhaps because as a psych grad student I am overeager to find patterns everywhere, perhaps because I have watched one too many episodes of My Strange Addiction on TLC (the last lady was addicted to her breasts. Her breasts!!), I am starting to suspect that reality television has become far more addictive over the past decade or so. Come with me, if you will, on a magical journey through my loose logic.
I Can’t Quit You, Reality TV
The barebones definition of having a process addiction, or an addiction not involving a chemical substance of some kind, involves the compulsion to keep doing a set of behaviors no matter the consequences. The pull to engage in behaviors such as gambling, sex, playing video games, watching hours of The Little Couple on TLC, etc. is akin to pursuing the chemical high of a drug. The problem is that television watching is such an everyday task, something done so easily even while doing ten other things, that it becomes easy to keep swimming in denial. I have often defended my Kardashian-spawned-show-watching as nothing but a small diversion from my otherwise hectic life. That is, until I tried--and failed--to give it up for one week.
I take full responsibility for my own compulsion to using reality television as a way to unwind, and perhaps for what you might call my lack of willpower or moral ineptitude. The problem is, real addiction is not a matter of will or morality, but rather complex biological, psychological, and social process. The same way drug dealers manufacture new, cheaper, and more dangerous highs that become more alluring to chase, reality television executives are toying with our psychology to do the same.
Perhaps because I have spent the past semester poring over textbooks on addictions, perhaps because as a psych grad student I am overeager to find patterns everywhere, perhaps because I have watched one too many episodes of My Strange Addiction on TLC (the last lady was addicted to her breasts. Her breasts!!), I am starting to suspect that reality television has become far more addictive over the past decade or so. Come with me, if you will, on a magical journey through my loose logic.
I Can’t Quit You, Reality TV
The barebones definition of having a process addiction, or an addiction not involving a chemical substance of some kind, involves the compulsion to keep doing a set of behaviors no matter the consequences. The pull to engage in behaviors such as gambling, sex, playing video games, watching hours of The Little Couple on TLC, etc. is akin to pursuing the chemical high of a drug. The problem is that television watching is such an everyday task, something done so easily even while doing ten other things, that it becomes easy to keep swimming in denial. I have often defended my Kardashian-spawned-show-watching as nothing but a small diversion from my otherwise hectic life. That is, until I tried--and failed--to give it up for one week.
I take full responsibility for my own compulsion to using reality television as a way to unwind, and perhaps for what you might call my lack of willpower or moral ineptitude. The problem is, real addiction is not a matter of will or morality, but rather complex biological, psychological, and social process. The same way drug dealers manufacture new, cheaper, and more dangerous highs that become more alluring to chase, reality television executives are toying with our psychology to do the same.
Community is the Nerdy Sitcom We Deserve by Nathan Cranor
When my coworker, our editor-n-chieftain, Troy was generous enough to let me contribute to this Shotgun revival, I knew I wanted to do something, I just didn't know what. I'm new to the world of ShotgunReviews, but having read and enjoyed the new material so far, I think I'm safe in saying many fellow Shotgun readers are – like me – interested in terrific television shows with nerdy themes.
This week NBC announced that “Community” is returning to television on March 15, right where it was before its much-bemoaned-on-the-internet hiatus at 8 p.m. Thursdays. This means it will be going up against its old timeslot nemesis “The Big Bang Theory.” That show, which is expressly about nerds and nerd culture, regularly crushed Community in the ratings. I know it's not just self-identified nerds who are watching TBBT, but I'd like to provide a few examples of how it's actually Community that's the superior nerd show at 8 p.m. on Thursday.
1. Dungeons & Dragons
In Season 2, Community devoted a whole half-hour of prime-time network real estate to the main characters engaging in a game of “Dungeons & Dragons.” What's amazing is they don't literalize it beyond strategic sound cues; it really is an episode of television entirely based around a group of people at a table describing their actions and rolling dice. What's really amazing is the episode is still brilliantly entertaining.
2. Zombies
There's little more beloved among nerds right now than zombies. Three days before “The Walking Dead” premiered, Community was there with its own take on the genre – Season 2's “Epidemiology.” The episode doesn't just namedrop zombie/horror movies, it gets into the deep cuts, like the “That scare was just [insert animal here]” trope.
3. Batman's in it.
Well, Abed (Danny Pudi) pretending to be Batman is in it – specifically in Season 1's “Introduction to Statistics” and Season 3's “Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.” Somehow, despite all the widely varying portrayals of his character over the years, Batman acting/looking out-of-character remains fertile ground for hilarity (see also How To, Batman).
4. Alternate universes.
Move over, Fringe. Season 3's “Remedial Chaos Theory” centers on seven different timelines. That includes one which returns in a great ending tag as a classic “dark” timeline.
5. Inspector Spacetime.
What's Inspector Spacetime? The question is not what, constable, but when! Oh, I'm sorry, yes, the question is what this time. That's my mistake.
Inspector Spacetime began as a brief “Doctor Who” parody and later in the season stood in for the Star Wars Holiday Special. On tiny scraps of information contained in those couple bits, obsessive fans have created a vast, elaborate canon. If that doesn't say “nerd” I don't know what does.
Community. It's the nerdy comedy we deserve, but not the one we can see right now. Not until March 15. At which point we all need to watch it, especially those of us with mystical Nielsen boxes (if such people exist...where's the birth certificates, Nielsen families??). If this great show can't survive, we really are living in the darkest timeline. I'll get my goatee.
This week NBC announced that “Community” is returning to television on March 15, right where it was before its much-bemoaned-on-the-internet hiatus at 8 p.m. Thursdays. This means it will be going up against its old timeslot nemesis “The Big Bang Theory.” That show, which is expressly about nerds and nerd culture, regularly crushed Community in the ratings. I know it's not just self-identified nerds who are watching TBBT, but I'd like to provide a few examples of how it's actually Community that's the superior nerd show at 8 p.m. on Thursday.
1. Dungeons & Dragons
In Season 2, Community devoted a whole half-hour of prime-time network real estate to the main characters engaging in a game of “Dungeons & Dragons.” What's amazing is they don't literalize it beyond strategic sound cues; it really is an episode of television entirely based around a group of people at a table describing their actions and rolling dice. What's really amazing is the episode is still brilliantly entertaining.
2. Zombies
There's little more beloved among nerds right now than zombies. Three days before “The Walking Dead” premiered, Community was there with its own take on the genre – Season 2's “Epidemiology.” The episode doesn't just namedrop zombie/horror movies, it gets into the deep cuts, like the “That scare was just [insert animal here]” trope.
3. Batman's in it.
Well, Abed (Danny Pudi) pretending to be Batman is in it – specifically in Season 1's “Introduction to Statistics” and Season 3's “Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.” Somehow, despite all the widely varying portrayals of his character over the years, Batman acting/looking out-of-character remains fertile ground for hilarity (see also How To, Batman).
4. Alternate universes.
Move over, Fringe. Season 3's “Remedial Chaos Theory” centers on seven different timelines. That includes one which returns in a great ending tag as a classic “dark” timeline.
5. Inspector Spacetime.
What's Inspector Spacetime? The question is not what, constable, but when! Oh, I'm sorry, yes, the question is what this time. That's my mistake.
Inspector Spacetime began as a brief “Doctor Who” parody and later in the season stood in for the Star Wars Holiday Special. On tiny scraps of information contained in those couple bits, obsessive fans have created a vast, elaborate canon. If that doesn't say “nerd” I don't know what does.
Community. It's the nerdy comedy we deserve, but not the one we can see right now. Not until March 15. At which point we all need to watch it, especially those of us with mystical Nielsen boxes (if such people exist...where's the birth certificates, Nielsen families??). If this great show can't survive, we really are living in the darkest timeline. I'll get my goatee.
Nathan's writing appears regularly at www.rateeveryanimal.com and irregularly at nscranor.wordpress.com. He appears fairly frequently at the lunch table with Troy, Kimmi Page and Courtney V.
Lost Lyrical Lounge Interview: The Kid Famous (Interview by Angelica LeMinh)
Our girl in Canada, back after far too long . . . that's right; it's Angelica LeMinh, late of the Lyrical Lounge with a "Lost Lyrical Lounge Interview" of The Kid Famous.
Ain't No Use even trying to deny that The Kid is Famous, he just happens to deserve it too. Your favorite Canadian freezes her hands off on a rooftop to to listen to a fellow 51416 transplant. We talk Brita, cell-phones, Simpson's (Homer not O.J.), fav colors and of course hip-hop!
-I love this city. (Toronto) It's my favorite city in the whole world, I'm always glad to come back to Toronto. When the weather is nice. Nope, I can't do it in the winter, I can't even do it.
-Yes, I did give away all my shoes, clothes too. I buy a lot of clothes and I don't really want them. Besides, in this industry, once you take a picture wearing something, it's over. I know a lot of kids, and they know me, so I try to give the gear to the kids, it means something to them...
-I don't have a thousand phones, just two. The iphone is for my friends, mom, dad, the ringer stays on. Besides, the internet is way better on it. The blackberry is more for business, I don't have anything updated on it, but it has bbm.
Ain't No Use even trying to deny that The Kid is Famous, he just happens to deserve it too. Your favorite Canadian freezes her hands off on a rooftop to to listen to a fellow 51416 transplant. We talk Brita, cell-phones, Simpson's (Homer not O.J.), fav colors and of course hip-hop!
-I love this city. (Toronto) It's my favorite city in the whole world, I'm always glad to come back to Toronto. When the weather is nice. Nope, I can't do it in the winter, I can't even do it.
-Yes, I did give away all my shoes, clothes too. I buy a lot of clothes and I don't really want them. Besides, in this industry, once you take a picture wearing something, it's over. I know a lot of kids, and they know me, so I try to give the gear to the kids, it means something to them...
-I don't have a thousand phones, just two. The iphone is for my friends, mom, dad, the ringer stays on. Besides, the internet is way better on it. The blackberry is more for business, I don't have anything updated on it, but it has bbm.
A Pretty Much Unwanted Modern History of Video Game Systems, or, How I Can Contribute to the Shotgun Reviews Revival With a Timely Subject and Still Let my Geek Flag Fly! by Jon Hueber
Has it really been this long? It seems like only a few months ago that Troy Brownfield and I began talking about me writing game reviews for his new website, shotgunreviews.com. Hell, if you look at it in terms of video game systems (which I plan to do, as it is the entire basis of this article, and if it doesn't work, I deeply apologize) Shotgun Reviews (SGR) started in the era of the original PlayStation and the Nintendo 64, and the Game Boy Color handheld system.
Microsoft still made crappy, bug-filled security risks that they called "operating systems," and had only just begun to envision a ridiculous-sized console with an equally ridiculous-sized controller (seriously, anybody out there remember the original XBox controller, named "The Duke?" It was the size of a small VCR, and felt like you were trying to control the NASA lunar lander in your lap).
Anyway, here we are today on the day of the launch of the newest video game system, the PlayStation Vita. Yes, it is basically a PS3 in the palm of your hand. We've come from arguably the biggest (in size) game system of all time (the original XBox), to the most powerful handheld ever. Ain't technology grand?
I remember those days, back in 1999, playing CD-Rom games on the PlayStation, and writing really crappy reviews. I seemed to like games that other people overlooked, and didn't care much for the games everybody loved. Heck, I didn't even like Tony Hawk Pro Skater until the sequel (and then I was obsessed, like a fat kid in the studio audience of Iron Chef America!)
The SEGA DreamCast was launched in September of 1999, and it was, well, a Dream system. It was the first with the next-gen graphics that would rule gaming for the next six years. In fact, the DreamCast was much more powerful than the biggest selling game system of all time, the venerable PlayStation2. But sadly, even with the jump start, and some really brilliant games, the DreamCast was about to be blown out of the water.
Believe It or Not, Here are Four Reasons Why You Should Watch TNA Wrestlng by Corey Henson
Corey Henson and Troy go back. Corey once worked at ADV, and he and Troy wrote for Newtype USA together before Corey came over to Shotgun. Corey was one of the three original Best Shots members with Troy and The Rev. OJ Flow. And when Troy became Newsarama's Blog@ Captain, Corey was part of that crew too. His Shotgun rep is deep, and his knowledge of comics, anime and wrestling is large. Ladies and gentlmen, Corey f'n Henson is back . . .
TNA Wrestling has been the laughing stock of professional wrestling for many years, and not without reason. Frankly, for much of its history, TNA has been completely unwatchable. As a matter of fact, I stopped watching TNA during the summer of 2009, and didn’t miss it for even a second. Recently, I decided to give Impact Wrestling another chance, and I was pleasantly surprised that the show had improved greatly while I wasn’t watching. In fact, I’d say that most weeks, TNA Impact Wrestling is a much better show than WWE Raw. If you’re a wrestling fan who’s been ignoring TNA, here is, in no particular order, a list of reasons why you may want to give the company a chance to make a positive impression.
1. THE RESURRECTION OF STING
TNA has a history of spending way too much time and money on middle-aged, washed-up wrestlers who ultimately do nothing to make positive contributions to TNA. Randy Savage, Scott Hall, Kevin Nash, Hulk Hogan and others have all failed to live up to contracts with more zeroes than a New Jersey night club. At the opposite end of the spectrum there’s Sting, the 52-year old legend who’s turned down numerous opportunities to sign with the WWE for the sake of multiple runs in TNA. Sting’s TNA career hasn’t always been stellar, thanks to a combination of poor booking and Sting’s own diminishing abilities as an athlete. There was also a heel turn in 2008 that was hard to watch because Sting never seemed to fully commit himself to making it work. For the past year, however, Sting has been one of the highlights of TNA. Once again, he’s reinvented his character, swapping the Crow motif he developed in 1996 for a new persona that’s equal parts Frank Gorshin’s Riddler and Heath Ledger’s Joker. It sounds utterly ridiculous on paper, but in reality it’s quite awesome, because Sting is busting his ass to make it work both in and out of the ring. Most of all, he looks like he’s having fun again, and it’s a blast to watch. If these are indeed the waning days of his wrestling career, as it’s been rumored, then he’s definitely going out on a high note.
TNA Wrestling has been the laughing stock of professional wrestling for many years, and not without reason. Frankly, for much of its history, TNA has been completely unwatchable. As a matter of fact, I stopped watching TNA during the summer of 2009, and didn’t miss it for even a second. Recently, I decided to give Impact Wrestling another chance, and I was pleasantly surprised that the show had improved greatly while I wasn’t watching. In fact, I’d say that most weeks, TNA Impact Wrestling is a much better show than WWE Raw. If you’re a wrestling fan who’s been ignoring TNA, here is, in no particular order, a list of reasons why you may want to give the company a chance to make a positive impression.
1. THE RESURRECTION OF STING
TNA has a history of spending way too much time and money on middle-aged, washed-up wrestlers who ultimately do nothing to make positive contributions to TNA. Randy Savage, Scott Hall, Kevin Nash, Hulk Hogan and others have all failed to live up to contracts with more zeroes than a New Jersey night club. At the opposite end of the spectrum there’s Sting, the 52-year old legend who’s turned down numerous opportunities to sign with the WWE for the sake of multiple runs in TNA. Sting’s TNA career hasn’t always been stellar, thanks to a combination of poor booking and Sting’s own diminishing abilities as an athlete. There was also a heel turn in 2008 that was hard to watch because Sting never seemed to fully commit himself to making it work. For the past year, however, Sting has been one of the highlights of TNA. Once again, he’s reinvented his character, swapping the Crow motif he developed in 1996 for a new persona that’s equal parts Frank Gorshin’s Riddler and Heath Ledger’s Joker. It sounds utterly ridiculous on paper, but in reality it’s quite awesome, because Sting is busting his ass to make it work both in and out of the ring. Most of all, he looks like he’s having fun again, and it’s a blast to watch. If these are indeed the waning days of his wrestling career, as it’s been rumored, then he’s definitely going out on a high note.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Are You Following Team Shotgun on Twitter?
SGR: www.twitter.com/shotgunreviews
Troy: www.twitter.com/troybrownfield
Shawn: www.twitter.com/shoegazer72
The Russ: www.twitter.com/The_Russ_Says
Birdsong: www.twitter.com/grimlock74
Janelle: www.twitter.com/gimpnelly
Oseye: www.twitter.com/thequeenoseyeb
Sarah Jaffe: www.twitter.com/seasonothebitch
Lucas: www.twitter.com/LucasSiegel
Kevin: www.twitter.com/khuxford
Steve Ekstrom: www.twitter.com/steve_ekstrom
Jon Hueber: www.twitter.com/wullbinkle
Jeff: www.twitter.com/golemlord
David: www.twitter.com/peposed
Russ B.: www.twitter.com/russburlingame
George: www.twitter.com/hatetodeath
Lan: www.twitter.com/pittsed_off
Angelica LeMinh: www.twitter.com/hiphop_spinster
Vanessa: www.twitter.com/psyphichic
Vanessa and Erika: www.twitter.com/girls_gone_geek
Dirk Manning: www.twitter.com/dirkmanning
Barb: www.twitter.com/demented_pants
Matt Brady: www.twitter.com/bradywriter
Tim: www.twitter.com/tmjanson
Kimmi: www.twitter.com/kimmi_page
Joanna: www.twitter.com/Morcae
Nathan: www.twitter.com/nscranor
All right . . . who did I miss?
Troy: www.twitter.com/troybrownfield
Shawn: www.twitter.com/shoegazer72
The Russ: www.twitter.com/The_Russ_Says
Birdsong: www.twitter.com/grimlock74
Janelle: www.twitter.com/gimpnelly
Oseye: www.twitter.com/thequeenoseyeb
Sarah Jaffe: www.twitter.com/seasonothebitch
Lucas: www.twitter.com/LucasSiegel
Kevin: www.twitter.com/khuxford
Steve Ekstrom: www.twitter.com/steve_ekstrom
Jon Hueber: www.twitter.com/wullbinkle
Jeff: www.twitter.com/golemlord
David: www.twitter.com/peposed
Russ B.: www.twitter.com/russburlingame
George: www.twitter.com/hatetodeath
Lan: www.twitter.com/pittsed_off
Angelica LeMinh: www.twitter.com/hiphop_spinster
Vanessa: www.twitter.com/psyphichic
Vanessa and Erika: www.twitter.com/girls_gone_geek
Dirk Manning: www.twitter.com/dirkmanning
Barb: www.twitter.com/demented_pants
Matt Brady: www.twitter.com/bradywriter
Tim: www.twitter.com/tmjanson
Kimmi: www.twitter.com/kimmi_page
Joanna: www.twitter.com/Morcae
Nathan: www.twitter.com/nscranor
All right . . . who did I miss?
Untitled Family Drama by Michael C. Lorah
Good day, Shotgun readers, I’ve returned to share more work-in-progress. Let me know what you think.
Untitled family drama
By Michael C Lorah
Chapter One
The Thresher’s season might as well be over, Roy Templeton thought. Mid-June, the long baseball summer just barely underway, and the team had sunk like an anchor to the rocky bottom of the Florida State League. Little Leaguers played with more poise; the Thresher kids threw the ball around wildly, hurled bats and water coolers at the slightest suggestion of a controversial call, and self-promoted at any opportunity. No matter how creative Roy’s public relations campaigns, getting fans into the ballpark to watch such immature gamesmanship proved impossible. Roy was under considerable pressure to improve attendance, but he didn’t have anything in his bag of tricks to overcome a simply terrible product. The blistering heat of Florida’s early summer certainly wasn’t making his job any easier either.
It was too damn hot for baseball anyway. Who wanted to sit under the cancerous sun, breathing scorched, humid air? He hadn’t walked down to the field, the open, sun-baked, heat-shimmering field, for three weeks now – never left his temperature-controlled office unless he was meeting in somebody else’s temperature-controlled office or stepping out for dinner at a too-air-conditioned local eatery. He could see the sunlight lancing down into the Earth, burning away any comfort, eating up the life of Floridians everywhere.
Roy looked forward to getting away for two weeks, even if he had to take his laptop and work cell. All the summer’s giveaways and major promotions were already scheduled, so it was only the follow-through that required his attention. Getting fourteen days off early in the baseball season, even at the minor league A-ball level, required calling in a lot of favors. Roy’s boss Paul Simonson called him into the office three different times to ask why he couldn’t have vacationed during the offseason. Of course, the year’s promotions needed to be arranged prior to the season starting. The kids being in school added another wrinkle. Roy wasn’t sure those unavoidable factors registered entirely in Paul’s mind, which had sincere difficulty working outside his own box of strategies. But he’d gotten his vacation approved, and it was time to enjoy it.
Observations of a Grown-Up Megadork by Joanna Lees
Confession time: I was that kid who showed up in eighth grade like she had just moved to the area, but in fact was just homeschooled up until that point and didn’t get out much and wasn’t really allowed to watch TV at home. For all I had contact with my age group, I might as well have grown up in Greenland . I was exactly as socially awkward as you would guess from that description, so this continued through high school and well into my college years, when I finally got an internet connection. The end result is that I tend to come at popular culture from the outside, particularly when nostalgia is involved. I’ve done a lot of catch-up work, mostly on Wikipedia, YouTube and TV Tropes, but there’s still a gap of experience that will always be there. Luckily, that same gap has provided me the opportunity to make some interesting observations. For example ...
It’s easier to jump into a franchise that has evolved over time. Case in point: Transformers. Now, I’m a huge fan of Transformers: Prime. It’s an awesome show, and I look forward to new episodes with unadulterated glee. However, the fact that it’s a Transformers show means little to me. I was barely aware of the franchise until the first live action movie, which I interpreted as “AWESOME PLANES and TANKS and GIANT SPACE ROBOTS, and also some kids for some reason, but mostly PLANES and ROBOTS”. And then the sequel sucked eggs on toast, so my interest meter fell back close to zero. I wouldn’t have paid any attention to Prime at all, except that I happened to catch the episode “Predatory” one night and was instantly hooked. Granted, the movies provided a little introduction to the main characters (really just Optimus and Megtron), but without that, Prime would still have pulled me in. I know from the interwebs that the show references a lot of franchise mythology, but again: That adds little to my enjoyment of the show. These characters aren’t awesome because I remember them fondly from my childhood; they’re awesome as characters in their own, surprisingly deep, story. The downside is that I can’t watch the G1 series without dissolving into a giggling mess at how silly it is. Which leads me to my next point ...
Checking in with JSA Jim . . .
Jim Beard came to us by way of the DC Direct Boards. Known as JSA Jim, he was enthusiastic collector and spoke eloquently on the direction of DC's line. An ardent proponent of the classic age of comics, Jim would work as a writer for Marvel's website, co-write a Red Tornado story for DC, team up with Troy and OJ for Newsarama's Super-Articulate column, and go on to write and/or edit books like Gotham City 14 Miles: 14 Essays on Why the 1960s Batman TV Series Matters. Today, he talks about the shifting tides that can occur for a fan.
On Shotgun . . .
When I think “shotgun” I think of a scattershot blast of buckshot – so here’s a burst or two comin’ right atcha.
I don’t buy a lot of action figures anymore. Funny how they used to be a major part of my leisure time, often to the point of distraction. Collecting figures was so fun and engaging, but in the last few years or so it’s become a minor blip on my radar. Oh, I still dig ‘em. But is it me or is the field a little…boring of late? DC Direct is a pale ghost of itself, producing more statues than articulated figures these days and when they do solicit they’re from some video game I’ve never played or heard of or the umpteenth iteration of Superman and Batman. Gone are the glory days of JSA figures or Silver Age goldmines like Beppo the Super-Monkey or Hoppy the Marvel Bunny…or Composite Superman. Oops; that’s just another iteration of Superman and Batman, innit? I think I’ve bought more Star Wars figures in recent days than super-hero toys – have to hand it to Hasbro. They’ve reached a Golden Age in their output, I think. Still hard to find, though. My days of haunting Targets are far, far behind me. My tradition now is that if I can walk into a store at any time of the day or any day of the week and stumble across a figure I’d like to buy, than that’s how it should be. Are there still those idiots who haunt the aisles of Toys-R-Us like ghasts, flitting about, pale and unshaven, peering into boxes left lying about by the night-stock crew? I pity them, if they still exist.
Sparkshooter: All Four Preview Promos Have Posted!
Hey, gang. As you know, we've been promoting Sparkshooter, the new webcomic from me and Sarah Vaughn. It starts next week, February 29th, at http://www.sparkshooter.com/ For the past four Wednesdays, we've had preview promos (prequel preview promos, even) run at four prominent comics sites. We're putting all the links right here so that you may check out all four.
Promo #1: Newsarama (with interview)
Promo #2: Comicbook.com (with interview)
Promo #3: iFanboy.com
Promo #4: The Beat
May you enjoy them, and rejoin us at http://www.sparkshooter.com/ on Wednesday! If you're so inclined, you can also join us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sparkshootercomic.
Promo #1: Newsarama (with interview)
Promo #2: Comicbook.com (with interview)
Promo #3: iFanboy.com
Promo #4: The Beat
May you enjoy them, and rejoin us at http://www.sparkshooter.com/ on Wednesday! If you're so inclined, you can also join us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sparkshootercomic.
An Untitled Fantasy Story by Michael C. Lorah
Hello, Shotgun readers; Michael Lorah here. I’d like to share with you the first chapter of an in-progress fantasy story I’ve been working on. I hope you enjoy it.
An untitled fantasy story
by Michael C Lorah
Once upon a time…
Chapter One
The Par-Tay
…there was a young man named Jerrod. Tall and lean, with a narrow face, a full head of dark hair and shimmering evergreen eyes, Jerrod lived quietly in city once named Plohton in a kingdom formerly called Valencia. His skill with a sword ranked second to none of his neighbors, though his foster parents – Knorr and Lyrra – ensured that his physical prowess never surpassed his compassion for finding a fair and equitable solution to any problem.
Plohton lay on a long, sweeping grass-laden plain, sitting high on a slope above the Ploh River. Decades ago, when Valencia prospered, Plohton was regarded as one of the world’s busiest and most important port cities. Many years ago, during the golden rule of King Humorff, food was plentiful, trade profitable, and enemies dared not move against the mighty Valencian army. All this, once, many years ago. Now, finding food may prove a fatal proposition, trade became a foreign language, and enemies … enemies still stayed their distance. Perhaps, fickle and vengeful, they enjoyed seeing the once-great kingdom bowed low. More likely, they feared Kaarg and dared not intrude into his territory.
Every spring, heavy rains pushed the Ploh River beyond its banks, and the waters spilled onto the plains, replenishing the farmlands surrounding Plohton with rich soil from the riverbed. The neighboring kingdom to the south, Juntiper, claimed land surrounding the river, and the conflict between the two nations extended back generations. It was, however, not the most telling or personal conflict that had arisen between the two nations. That particular story is best left for a later page in this drama.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
5 Things in Pro Wrestling That Need to Go Away #5 by The Russ
#5) The “WHAT?” chant
There have been two major psychological constants in wrestling for the past decade.
One constant is that anyone will shout “WHOO!” whenever a guy chops somebody. It doesn't matter that Ric Flair is on his third retirement now and paying Dixie's money to his fourth ex-wife. It doesn't matter if the guy delivering the chop is the Heavyweight Champ working in front of millions at Wrestlemania or Jobber #3 under a hood jerking the curtain for the local indy in front of 53 people.
The Pavlovian response of wrestling fans to “chop” is “WHOO!” just like Missy Hyatt's Pavlovian response to the word "man" is asking herself, “Have I ever had sex with him?”
Maybe the “WHOO!” is a sign of respect for Flair, or maybe it’s just a collective memory we have as fans that Flair was the guy who made the knife-edge chop famous. Maybe we’re all engaged in a crowd mentality that everyone else is doing it, so why shouldn’t we? Still, most fans young or old can trace that chant back to its origin.
However, if you're not legally able to drive, do you remember how “WHAT?” started? Here's a bit of history if you don't know or remember:
There have been two major psychological constants in wrestling for the past decade.
One constant is that anyone will shout “WHOO!” whenever a guy chops somebody. It doesn't matter that Ric Flair is on his third retirement now and paying Dixie's money to his fourth ex-wife. It doesn't matter if the guy delivering the chop is the Heavyweight Champ working in front of millions at Wrestlemania or Jobber #3 under a hood jerking the curtain for the local indy in front of 53 people.
The Pavlovian response of wrestling fans to “chop” is “WHOO!” just like Missy Hyatt's Pavlovian response to the word "man" is asking herself, “Have I ever had sex with him?”
Maybe the “WHOO!” is a sign of respect for Flair, or maybe it’s just a collective memory we have as fans that Flair was the guy who made the knife-edge chop famous. Maybe we’re all engaged in a crowd mentality that everyone else is doing it, so why shouldn’t we? Still, most fans young or old can trace that chant back to its origin.
However, if you're not legally able to drive, do you remember how “WHAT?” started? Here's a bit of history if you don't know or remember:
What It Feels Like For A Girl (In Comics) Part 2 by Janelle Asselin
Welcome to part 2 of “What It Feels Like For a Girl (In Comics),” my sharing of anecdotes about how we ladies experience the industry. In Part 1 you heard about some of my experiences, and now it’s time for you to hear from other women in the industry. Some of these are pulled from the survey I did as part of my thesis while others I solicited from a variety of women in the industry. All of them are anonymous, which means in some cases, you’re hearing stories that these women wouldn’t ordinarily tell.
· I was a comics critic several years ago, and in a comic-book shop for an event. When I went up to the counter with my purchases, the clerk remarked that I had extraordinary taste for a girl. I didn't want to tell him anything about myself, so I took it as a compliment, although it was an extremely back-handed one, and deeply insulting. He continued, however, to remark, loudly that I had really good taste and that he knew how hard it was for girls in comics. Of course he was flirting, but he did not also realize that he was being pedantic, protective, and silencing in an attempt to be charming and supportive. Then he suggested I look up my own work, as a critic, if I were interested in women in comics.
· I worked in a comic book store for 7 years and there were many male customers who refused to listen to my suggestions and could not believe that I would know anything about comics.
· Once when my boyfriend and I were babysitting his 9-year old niece and two older nephews, we decided to take them to our LCS. We were pretty excited to share our interests with the kids and just maybe get them interested too. The boys wandered off to look at toys and the niece, an avid reader, made a beeline for the week's comics. But my excitement quickly turned to dismay, because we couldn't find a comic that was both interesting to her and safe for her to read. "What about this one?" she asked, holding up a comic with Little Red Riding Hood on the cover--she knows what she likes, and fantasy and fairy tales are her favorites. "Nooo," I said, "I don't think so." I flipped through and my impression from the cover--that this was a T&A comic--was confirmed by the interior pages. She asked why not, and I know she's a smart kid, so I explained that I could tell by the way the girls on the cover were drawn, with big boobs and broken backs and tiny clothes. Just in case she ever goes to a comics shop with her mom, I want her to know what to look for and what to avoid. We grabbed a copy of Batgirl instead.
THE LEMUR RISES! with J. Caleb Mozzocco
Can't really do this without a proper explanation. As Matt Brady and I were pitching story ideas (that would eventually lead to us writing "Short Straw" in the Batman 80 Page Giant 2011), we got to joking about pitching totally unlikely Batman Inc. candidates. Among those suggested, due to my love of the strategic value of Madagascar in "Risk", was . . . THE LEMUR. Matt and I quickly had a one-page story that we thought of turning in just for fun as a paver-of-the-way on the actual pitch. We got the awesome J. Caleb Mozzocco to draw it. Caleb was an early member of Best Shots, has a great blog at EverydayIsLikeWednesday and has written with distinction for sites like Newsarama, CBR, and Comics Alliance. In one of those weird bits of luck, we ended up getting to do "Short Straw", and "The Lemur Rises" never had its day. Until now. Here, with art and color from the mighty hand of Caleb, THE LEMUR RISES!
Change or Die by Jeff Marsick
Jeff Marsick, Best Shots team member, wrestling contributor, film guy, lover of fast cars . . . he's an interesting cat. He's also a fine comics writer, knocking out Z-Girl and the Four Tigers, Dead Man's Party and Wendover. Here, he holds forth on the comics industry . . .
When Troy asked if I wanted to write a piece for Shotgun’s phoenix-like emergence from its ashes, I think my brain imploded: “Sweet! I’ll bloviate about the comic book industry—no, wait, Shotgun has too much wrestling with not enough motorsports and being the resident auto racing nut(job), I’ll discourse about NASCAR! No no—the OSCARS! Yeah, that’s the ticket. Oh, but then I do have some thoughts about the current crop of “The Voice” contenders (surely I’m not the ONLY one who thought Erin Martin in Round 1 wasn’t so much Feist-y as much as warbling like a garroted cat, right? Right??).”
So many choices to pick from. It took some time to pick a direction, but I finally went with the Oscars NASCAR why Michele Bachmann is underappreciated barking about comic books:
1) Now is the time for indie creators. Speaking as one of said creators, I don’t think there’s ever been such a wide field of opportunity for us “little people”. And thanks goes to the digital domain whose horizon extends from Comixology at one end to webcomics at the other, with Kindle and Nook in between. Self-publishing in all forms is riding the digital wave, all of us aspirants following in the footsteps of standard bearers like John Locke and Amanda Hocking who paved the way, ninety-nine cents at a time, for our dreams to possibly someday see reality.
BUT, just because it’s easier now to get your comic book out there doesn’t mean a) anyone’s going to care or b) that enough people will hear your message no matter how many hours you’re Tweeting or booking Face. One thing that needs to change is…
Forgetless: A Review by Vanessa Gabriel
FORGETLESS TPB
Written by Nick Spencer
Art by W. Scott Forbes, Jorge Coelho, Marley Zarcone
Lettering by Johnny Lowe
Published by Image Comics
Review by Vanessa Gabriel
Different things propel one to decide to start reading a comic. Often times it is word of mouth, the following of a long-loved character or the creative team is appealing. But it was the art that drew me to Forgetless. At the time of release, I had seen the single issues of Forgetless at my comic shop a time or two. The cover art was striking. As these things go, I had enough on my pull list, and I passed on purchasing. Little did I know that when I got around to reading the collected edition of Forgetless, the artists who made those covers so striking would soon reign as rulers of my aesthetic.
I first experienced Marley Zarcone’s art in Madame Xanadu #24. She was only on that one issue, but her clean, unique style is unforgettable. That sealed the deal for me and Forgetless. I had to have more Marley, who is one of the three very talented Forgetless artists. Jorge Coelho, W. Scott Forbes, and Marley Zarcone combine to create a powerful aesthetic rarely seen combined into one book; each artist explicitly unique, but all of them as vibrant as the story being told.
There is nothing typical about this book, except for the hipsters. I kid. Nick Spencer writes a provocative and relevant story that just so happens to boast the debauched youth culture of New York City. I am the first one to loathe a ranty teenager. Spencer freshly presses the foolish arrogance of teenage years, and spins it in into various incarnations to give us truly memorable characters. His story examines the alarming, entertaining and sometimes intertwining roles that each of them play in the greatest city on Earth.
In only five issues, Forgetless does what I think comics can do best: act as a social commentary. Models aspire to appear on the cover of Vogue and work as killers for hire on the side, all whilst tweeting vagaries of said hit jobs. You see that perception is everything, and apathy rules the day in the world of social networking. Meanwhile, all three South Jersey teens can think of is getting to a party in the city. It’s the only thing that matters. And one young man gets hundreds of thousands of hits on YouTube … by fucking a building, the Empire State Building. It’s an ode to the idiocy and freedom of being a teenager and a poignant example of the Age of Celebrity, as it explicitly illustrates the narcissism consuming our youth culture.
Forgetless is not for the faint of heart. Gratuitous language, Pulp Fiction-style pacing, and NC-17 antics from people not yet 17 years old may not be everyone’s cup of tea. But, if you revel in cynicism, laugh at dark humor, and live for smart references, then I invite you to the biggest party in New York City. Wickedly smart writing, beautiful art, and unforgettable characters make Forgetless stand apart from a sea of books. It is a brilliant addition to any library.
Vanessa Gabriel is a co-founder of girls-gone-geek.com and a member of the Best Shots team.
Written by Nick Spencer
Art by W. Scott Forbes, Jorge Coelho, Marley Zarcone
Lettering by Johnny Lowe
Published by Image Comics
Review by Vanessa Gabriel
Different things propel one to decide to start reading a comic. Often times it is word of mouth, the following of a long-loved character or the creative team is appealing. But it was the art that drew me to Forgetless. At the time of release, I had seen the single issues of Forgetless at my comic shop a time or two. The cover art was striking. As these things go, I had enough on my pull list, and I passed on purchasing. Little did I know that when I got around to reading the collected edition of Forgetless, the artists who made those covers so striking would soon reign as rulers of my aesthetic.
I first experienced Marley Zarcone’s art in Madame Xanadu #24. She was only on that one issue, but her clean, unique style is unforgettable. That sealed the deal for me and Forgetless. I had to have more Marley, who is one of the three very talented Forgetless artists. Jorge Coelho, W. Scott Forbes, and Marley Zarcone combine to create a powerful aesthetic rarely seen combined into one book; each artist explicitly unique, but all of them as vibrant as the story being told.
There is nothing typical about this book, except for the hipsters. I kid. Nick Spencer writes a provocative and relevant story that just so happens to boast the debauched youth culture of New York City. I am the first one to loathe a ranty teenager. Spencer freshly presses the foolish arrogance of teenage years, and spins it in into various incarnations to give us truly memorable characters. His story examines the alarming, entertaining and sometimes intertwining roles that each of them play in the greatest city on Earth.
In only five issues, Forgetless does what I think comics can do best: act as a social commentary. Models aspire to appear on the cover of Vogue and work as killers for hire on the side, all whilst tweeting vagaries of said hit jobs. You see that perception is everything, and apathy rules the day in the world of social networking. Meanwhile, all three South Jersey teens can think of is getting to a party in the city. It’s the only thing that matters. And one young man gets hundreds of thousands of hits on YouTube … by fucking a building, the Empire State Building. It’s an ode to the idiocy and freedom of being a teenager and a poignant example of the Age of Celebrity, as it explicitly illustrates the narcissism consuming our youth culture.
Forgetless is not for the faint of heart. Gratuitous language, Pulp Fiction-style pacing, and NC-17 antics from people not yet 17 years old may not be everyone’s cup of tea. But, if you revel in cynicism, laugh at dark humor, and live for smart references, then I invite you to the biggest party in New York City. Wickedly smart writing, beautiful art, and unforgettable characters make Forgetless stand apart from a sea of books. It is a brilliant addition to any library.
Vanessa Gabriel is a co-founder of girls-gone-geek.com and a member of the Best Shots team.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Ghost Rider 2: Nicholas Cage Jumped the Shark by Nicole Christian
The artist formerly known as Nicole Timmons claims a spot as one of my favorite students. Nicole was in the first Freshman Writing class that I taught at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, and the level of her work impressed me right away. As I got to know Nicole, I found out that she was wickedly deadpan funny on top of being markedly intelligent. She was among the first of several of my students that would write or work for Shotgun in some capacity, typically commenting on film. These days she's married (Hey, Cody) and works in signage (great word). Today, she's here . . .
I approached the second Ghost Rider movie with the same trepidations that I had when the first one came out. But after watching the original film—and deciding that it wasn’t all that bad, really, when you thought about it—I figured “Spirit of Vengeance” would be about the same. Nothing that raises your spirit or challenges your cerebral cortex, but a decent way to kill a couple of hours.
Unfortunately, I cannot give Ghost Rider 2 even that much credit. It was difficult enough the first time around to digest the idea of Nicholas Cage as a demonic superhero badass, but I had accepted the illusion and the character construct. Then someone decided that the Crazy Nicholas character that has surfaced in several of Cage’s more recent films was more important than the essence of the Ghost Rider. I was repeated jerked out of the movie action because I was too busy thinking, “This guy’s nuts!” It was funny in “Matchstick Men,” but this movie reminded me a little too much of “Drive Angry.”
I approached the second Ghost Rider movie with the same trepidations that I had when the first one came out. But after watching the original film—and deciding that it wasn’t all that bad, really, when you thought about it—I figured “Spirit of Vengeance” would be about the same. Nothing that raises your spirit or challenges your cerebral cortex, but a decent way to kill a couple of hours.
Unfortunately, I cannot give Ghost Rider 2 even that much credit. It was difficult enough the first time around to digest the idea of Nicholas Cage as a demonic superhero badass, but I had accepted the illusion and the character construct. Then someone decided that the Crazy Nicholas character that has surfaced in several of Cage’s more recent films was more important than the essence of the Ghost Rider. I was repeated jerked out of the movie action because I was too busy thinking, “This guy’s nuts!” It was funny in “Matchstick Men,” but this movie reminded me a little too much of “Drive Angry.”
Troy Warms Up Part 2
Allen Owes: Cash and team-challenged Allen Iverson owes an amazing $850,000 in jewerly debt alone. I didn't even know that "jewelry debt" was a phrase. I know that 850,000 is an impressive total, but it took 23 million attempts to get there (wait for it . . . everybody that's gonna get it, got it? okay . . .). Overall, Iverson blasted through $150 million to get where he is now. You know what it takes to go through that much money is so little time?
Lindsay Lohan: Lindsay Lohan will be hosting Saturday Night Live again. The best part of this was that I heard a radio news tease for it that began with "Guess what Lindsay Lohan is going to be on?" I could imagine people all over the city, driving their cars, shouting, "Meth!" "Cocaine!" "Oxy!" "The Pole!" Yeah, Lohan's become an easy target over the years, not the least of which is because she now looks about the same age as her mother. But I have to say, Lohan's generation of starlets has a fairly impressive bounce-back rate. She came up through Disney (via the "Parent Trap" re-make) in proximity to Britney and Christina, and they both had periods where they went off the rails. The question though is whether everyone SHOULD attempt a comeback. There's no law that says you have to STAY famous after you get famous. That's a separate kind of addiction, really. It would nice for Lindsay if she could resume a productive acting career. Then again, maybe she should start a step-down center for people to transition out of fame and into reality; I can think of three sisters that'll probably need her help some day . . .
Mitt Romney: Former Massachusetts governor and current rich guy Mitt Romney went through over $18 million campaigning last month. You know what it takes to spend that much money in that short a time? You guessed it . . .
Lindsay Lohan: Lindsay Lohan will be hosting Saturday Night Live again. The best part of this was that I heard a radio news tease for it that began with "Guess what Lindsay Lohan is going to be on?" I could imagine people all over the city, driving their cars, shouting, "Meth!" "Cocaine!" "Oxy!" "The Pole!" Yeah, Lohan's become an easy target over the years, not the least of which is because she now looks about the same age as her mother. But I have to say, Lohan's generation of starlets has a fairly impressive bounce-back rate. She came up through Disney (via the "Parent Trap" re-make) in proximity to Britney and Christina, and they both had periods where they went off the rails. The question though is whether everyone SHOULD attempt a comeback. There's no law that says you have to STAY famous after you get famous. That's a separate kind of addiction, really. It would nice for Lindsay if she could resume a productive acting career. Then again, maybe she should start a step-down center for people to transition out of fame and into reality; I can think of three sisters that'll probably need her help some day . . .
Mitt Romney: Former Massachusetts governor and current rich guy Mitt Romney went through over $18 million campaigning last month. You know what it takes to spend that much money in that short a time? You guessed it . . .
We Live in Interesting Times . . . For Corporations by Kevin Huxford
Ah, Khuxford. I know that Kevin Huxford of Schwapp Online has been a controversial cat over the years. However, he's also been my friend. Another Best Shots guy that came over to Shotgun, Kevin felt many years ago that he had to split both because he'd become something of a lightning rod. He promptly founded his own blog and enjoyed his gadfly role ever since. One thing that you need to know is that Kevin has a rigid code of principles. And even if you don't agree with it, you should respect it. Today, he takes a hard look at something that affects all of us.
Union membership has waned.
Reality TV, populated by talentless gloryhounds, has supplanted a lot of (openly) scripted entertainment.
The Supreme Court says corporations are entitled to all the rights of personhood.
And the electorate is brainwashed into believing that leaving more money with rich folks and corporations leads to new jobs and trickle down even more than they were in the 80s, it seems.
There's two recent developments where this has become more disturbing to me on a personal level.
Gary Friedrich sued Marvel to try to obtain ownership of Ghost Rider. The merits of his case are, at best, debatable. The Ghost Rider name existed prior to his involvement and testimony says that a lot of editorial direction went into the creation. But there's no doubt he played a significant role in the creation, leading some to believe it would be the right thing for Marvel and/or the studio behind the movie to throw a sum (insignificant to them, but significant to the destitute Friedrich) for his past contributions.
And in come all the folks defending the corporations blindly. The only moral obligation Marvel has is to shareholders (i.e. it is a moral imperative that they maximize profits). If they pay this guy, what about the other contributors? What about cases where it is more difficult to break down contributions? It's not the corporations fault that it's too complicated for them to pay anyone something in consideration of how their past work has now manifested into unforeseen millions of dollars.
Union membership has waned.
Reality TV, populated by talentless gloryhounds, has supplanted a lot of (openly) scripted entertainment.
The Supreme Court says corporations are entitled to all the rights of personhood.
And the electorate is brainwashed into believing that leaving more money with rich folks and corporations leads to new jobs and trickle down even more than they were in the 80s, it seems.
There's two recent developments where this has become more disturbing to me on a personal level.
Gary Friedrich sued Marvel to try to obtain ownership of Ghost Rider. The merits of his case are, at best, debatable. The Ghost Rider name existed prior to his involvement and testimony says that a lot of editorial direction went into the creation. But there's no doubt he played a significant role in the creation, leading some to believe it would be the right thing for Marvel and/or the studio behind the movie to throw a sum (insignificant to them, but significant to the destitute Friedrich) for his past contributions.
And in come all the folks defending the corporations blindly. The only moral obligation Marvel has is to shareholders (i.e. it is a moral imperative that they maximize profits). If they pay this guy, what about the other contributors? What about cases where it is more difficult to break down contributions? It's not the corporations fault that it's too complicated for them to pay anyone something in consideration of how their past work has now manifested into unforeseen millions of dollars.
Film/Cinema/Movies Since 1999
by
Eric Barker
I like my friend’s question a lot, for several reasons. First, it says to me that he’s fully engaged himself when he watches movies; they aren’t just a distraction for him. Second, as a screenwriter and inveterate moviegoer myself, I’ve often wondered the same thing, and I know for a fact that the people who make the movies are in constant dialogue with the question. Filmmakers of all stripes, from producers to editors to script readers would love to know the definitive answer, or at least the median answer, to my friend’s musings, so they could create more sure things for the cineplex, even in the arena of so-called independent film. Making a movie is an expensive proposition, period. Any clue about how it might be made more profitable, or at the very least less risky, would be greatly appreciated.
But for my friend and me, the curiosity is less mercenary (most days): in retrospect I can always tell you where my mind was focused during a particular movie, or during the most memorable scenes; I know how a particular film made me think or feel as I was watching it, and after. But I don’t know how it affected the woman or man sitting ten rows back, or the couple seeing it for the first time in their living room a few months later, their kids finally tucked in and just a couple of hours, if that, to relax.
I wonder about these things because, often when I talk to people about a given movie, it feels as if they didn’t see the same one I did, especially if we disagree. This is a sensation I’m sure everyone has had. People whose opinions baffle me no doubt feel the same way about my likes and dislikes – although they often frame it differently, as when they insist that I didn’t get what a film was really doing or “saying” – and in a very real sense we’re all correct: They didn’t see the same movie as me, nor did I see the same one as them. Taken frame-by-frame, the film itself doesn’t change, it is what it is. But as viewers we change the film as we are watching it, and in our memories of it afterward, and we change it again with every subsequent viewing.
Sweaty B F’n Rocks Us
Ryan Williams IS The Bass Geek. That's not any kind of insult; it's a well earned title. The man runs, wait for it, TheBassGeek.net and is considered an authority on the Indianapolis music scene by no less than CNN, who interviewed during the Super Bowl run-up. Aside from playing in a number of bands and authoring books on subjects like learning to play bass, digital music, and MySpace, our man in Fountain Square co-hosted the IndianapolisMusic.net podcast for years, may or not have been Sweaty B in seminal Indy-scene band No*Star, and worked with Troy, Russ, Li, Oseye, Jonathan and others in the day. Today, he looks back, and he just might f'n rock us.
My first (and probably only, that I can remember) contribution to Shotgun Reviews involved a review of D'Angelo at the Murat Theater, notable both for the stellar live band backing him and for the woman of ALL ages (yes, Grandma, you too) trying to rip off his leather pants and finally see little D'Angelo.
13 years later, it's just like old times. Shotgun Reviews is helping launch a webcomic about music in Indianapolis in the early 2000s, and D'Angelo is just NOW starting to play shows again. Those were some fierce women.
In the intervening years, I wrote a lot about local music and played a lot of music locally (and some elsewhere). Both Troy and I also left the hellhole where we worked and did some more meaningful and pleasurable things with our lives. So we've got that going for us. But it's the time for reminiscing, and that always involves weird stories that seem funny now, but may have taken a darker turn. So, I give you the story of this audition.
I'd just played a pickup rockabilly gig on a flatbed truck somewhere near Ravenswood for the 4th of July. I'm not saying I'll turn down a gig now, but I was new in town back then and certainly didn't have anything better to do, so my standards were ever so slightly lower.
That doesn't apply to the rockabilly gig, by the way, I'm just setting the stage.
My first (and probably only, that I can remember) contribution to Shotgun Reviews involved a review of D'Angelo at the Murat Theater, notable both for the stellar live band backing him and for the woman of ALL ages (yes, Grandma, you too) trying to rip off his leather pants and finally see little D'Angelo.
13 years later, it's just like old times. Shotgun Reviews is helping launch a webcomic about music in Indianapolis in the early 2000s, and D'Angelo is just NOW starting to play shows again. Those were some fierce women.
 |
| He totally doesn't know I'm running this. -- Troy |
I'd just played a pickup rockabilly gig on a flatbed truck somewhere near Ravenswood for the 4th of July. I'm not saying I'll turn down a gig now, but I was new in town back then and certainly didn't have anything better to do, so my standards were ever so slightly lower.
That doesn't apply to the rockabilly gig, by the way, I'm just setting the stage.
5 Things That Will Never Go Out of Style in Pro Wrestling: #4 by The Russ
#4: Weddings Gone Awry
Vickie Guerrero & Edge
Miss Elizabeth & Macho Man
Paul “The Butcher” Vachon & Ophelia
unless you’re pretending to be gay:
Billy & Chuck
Monday, February 20, 2012
Four Ladies That Inspire SPARKSHOOTER
Troy here. As you may know, my new webcomic with artist Sarah Vaughn, Sparkshooter, starts Wednesday, February 29th. It follows an Indianapolis band circa 2003 and how their new female lead singer turns them on their head. While much of the tale is rooted in and inspired by my own experiences working with bands, here are four ladies of music that I feel inside the story. They had crazy boys to deal with, too.
Debbie Harry of Blondie: I became aware of Blondie when I was six years old. Debbie may have accidentally triggered my puberty early.
Toni Halliday of Curve: Shawn Delaney, Todd Shoemaker, Kim Companik and I saw Curve open for The Jesus and Mary Chain in 1992. There's a couple of good stories there that a beer can buy you.
Debbie Harry of Blondie: I became aware of Blondie when I was six years old. Debbie may have accidentally triggered my puberty early.
Toni Halliday of Curve: Shawn Delaney, Todd Shoemaker, Kim Companik and I saw Curve open for The Jesus and Mary Chain in 1992. There's a couple of good stories there that a beer can buy you.
Is it 1984 All Over Again? by The Rev. OJ Flow
The Rev OJ Flow joined ShotgunReviews.com many moons ago and was one of the original members of Newsarama's Best Shots team. In addition to kicking in on Newsarama's Super-Articulate column to writing for outlets like Life During Wartime, The Rev has been a staunch supporter of all things Shotgun, including covering music and collectibles. Here he opines on the return of Van Halen.
While my first real Van Halen memory dates back to the late 1970s and hearing “Jamie’s Crying” on Dad’s car stereo in Dearborn, Michigan, by way of Detroit’s WRIF, my true passion for the band developed a few years later. If you ask me whether I’m a “Dave man” of a “Van Hagar guy,” I usually reply that I’m a “VAN HALEN guy.” What the brothers Eddie and Alex do is always the constant and the most irreplaceable. Among my peers, in 1984, Van Halen’s album of the same name was as much a staple in our day-to-day lives as Michael Jackson’s Thriller and Huey Lewis and the News’ Sports. Those albums dictated the way I and my fellow sixth graders walked, talked and dressed.
Fast forward to the first two months of 2012. Michael Jackson is now almost two whole years removed from his mortal coil, and by the time he passed away in June of 2010, a whole generation or two were oblivious to the enormity of the pop megastar’s wattage, how guys wanted to be him and girls wanted to date him. By 2010, the frail single parent of three was a shell of his former self, never fully living down charges of sexually inappropriate behavior with children that never did stick to him in terms of criminal convictions. Any quirks that Jackson displayed back in 1984 were just that, quirks that the masses would gladly oblige a supremely talented singer and performer who’d charmed and dazzled audiences since his age was in the single digits. But for years before his death due to prescription drug abuse and living beyond his means, the quirks became more and more unsettling to any rational, albeit average, American not remotely immersed in global celebrity of Jackson’s level. While he was actually prepping a world tour that was supposed to re-light his star, no one knows how well it would have played and how long it would have lasted considering that he didn’t even survive the preproduction.
At least Huey Lewis’s story is anything but a precautionary tale. While the hits have been but a distant memory for going on three decades, I’ve personally been happy to see Huey Lewis on a couple of occasions already in 2012. Like it was the 1980s all over again, Lewis and his longtime backing band turned up in their native San Francisco to sing the National Anthem at the 49ers’ first of two playoff games at Candlestick Park in January. And not long after that, Lewis was on hand, as he has been for years, actually, at Pebble Beach for the golf course’s annual pro-am event. Safe to say the roots rock and roll band’s most commercially successful days are behind them, but there is certainly nothing objectionable about their current musical trajectory, still touring and recording.
While my first real Van Halen memory dates back to the late 1970s and hearing “Jamie’s Crying” on Dad’s car stereo in Dearborn, Michigan, by way of Detroit’s WRIF, my true passion for the band developed a few years later. If you ask me whether I’m a “Dave man” of a “Van Hagar guy,” I usually reply that I’m a “VAN HALEN guy.” What the brothers Eddie and Alex do is always the constant and the most irreplaceable. Among my peers, in 1984, Van Halen’s album of the same name was as much a staple in our day-to-day lives as Michael Jackson’s Thriller and Huey Lewis and the News’ Sports. Those albums dictated the way I and my fellow sixth graders walked, talked and dressed.
Fast forward to the first two months of 2012. Michael Jackson is now almost two whole years removed from his mortal coil, and by the time he passed away in June of 2010, a whole generation or two were oblivious to the enormity of the pop megastar’s wattage, how guys wanted to be him and girls wanted to date him. By 2010, the frail single parent of three was a shell of his former self, never fully living down charges of sexually inappropriate behavior with children that never did stick to him in terms of criminal convictions. Any quirks that Jackson displayed back in 1984 were just that, quirks that the masses would gladly oblige a supremely talented singer and performer who’d charmed and dazzled audiences since his age was in the single digits. But for years before his death due to prescription drug abuse and living beyond his means, the quirks became more and more unsettling to any rational, albeit average, American not remotely immersed in global celebrity of Jackson’s level. While he was actually prepping a world tour that was supposed to re-light his star, no one knows how well it would have played and how long it would have lasted considering that he didn’t even survive the preproduction.
At least Huey Lewis’s story is anything but a precautionary tale. While the hits have been but a distant memory for going on three decades, I’ve personally been happy to see Huey Lewis on a couple of occasions already in 2012. Like it was the 1980s all over again, Lewis and his longtime backing band turned up in their native San Francisco to sing the National Anthem at the 49ers’ first of two playoff games at Candlestick Park in January. And not long after that, Lewis was on hand, as he has been for years, actually, at Pebble Beach for the golf course’s annual pro-am event. Safe to say the roots rock and roll band’s most commercially successful days are behind them, but there is certainly nothing objectionable about their current musical trajectory, still touring and recording.
Super 8: Recapturing Child-Like Joy by Erika D. Peterman
Super 8
Rating: PG-13
Director: J.J. Abrams
Starring: Joel Courtney, Elle Fanning, Kyle Chandler
Grade: A
Between outrageous ticket prices and patrons who can’t stop texting/Tweeting/yapping for even two lousy seconds after the lights go down, I’ve often wondered whether it’s still possible to experience child-like joy at the movies. Then along came the wonderful J.J. Abrams-directed thriller "Super 8," which is now on DVD. Seeing on the big screen last summer was like time travel. Just seconds into this film, I could feel myself turning back into that 12-year-old girl who was watching "E.T." for the first time.
Executive produced by Steven Spielberg, "Super 8" is an obvious homage to his late ’70s and ’80s classic films. Though it’s been widely praised, some critics have called it an emotionally manipulative Spielberg knockoff. Well, duh. Expert emotional manipulation is one of Spielberg’s superpowers, and I wouldn’t have him any other way. Abrams proves to be an A+ student of Spielberg’s style, but "Super 8" stands firmly on its own. It’s a sentimental, affecting, and frequently frightening story with a geeky soul.
It’s 1979, and middle-schooler Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) has just buried his mother, who died on the job at the town steel plant. He’s got a distant relationship with his dad, Jackson (Kyle Chandler), a stoic deputy who isn’t thrilled about his son’s hobby. Joe’s been shooting a zombie movie with a pack of misfits, led by his hilariously loudmouthed friend, Charles (Riley Griffiths). He’s also got an ulterior motive, which is getting close to Alice, the guarded girl next door (Elle Fanning).
Rating: PG-13
Director: J.J. Abrams
Starring: Joel Courtney, Elle Fanning, Kyle Chandler
Grade: A
Between outrageous ticket prices and patrons who can’t stop texting/Tweeting/yapping for even two lousy seconds after the lights go down, I’ve often wondered whether it’s still possible to experience child-like joy at the movies. Then along came the wonderful J.J. Abrams-directed thriller "Super 8," which is now on DVD. Seeing on the big screen last summer was like time travel. Just seconds into this film, I could feel myself turning back into that 12-year-old girl who was watching "E.T." for the first time.
Executive produced by Steven Spielberg, "Super 8" is an obvious homage to his late ’70s and ’80s classic films. Though it’s been widely praised, some critics have called it an emotionally manipulative Spielberg knockoff. Well, duh. Expert emotional manipulation is one of Spielberg’s superpowers, and I wouldn’t have him any other way. Abrams proves to be an A+ student of Spielberg’s style, but "Super 8" stands firmly on its own. It’s a sentimental, affecting, and frequently frightening story with a geeky soul.
It’s 1979, and middle-schooler Joe Lamb (Joel Courtney) has just buried his mother, who died on the job at the town steel plant. He’s got a distant relationship with his dad, Jackson (Kyle Chandler), a stoic deputy who isn’t thrilled about his son’s hobby. Joe’s been shooting a zombie movie with a pack of misfits, led by his hilariously loudmouthed friend, Charles (Riley Griffiths). He’s also got an ulterior motive, which is getting close to Alice, the guarded girl next door (Elle Fanning).
What It Feels Like For A Girl (In Comics) by Janelle Asselin
Janelle Asselin pretty much rocks. Best Shots crew member and a co-host of Shots in the Dark, Janelle went on to be an Assistant Editor at Fangoria Comic, an Assistant then Associate Editor at DC Comics, and a Magazine Editor at Disney (for their Marvel kids' line). Troy and Matt swear that she's one of the best editors around, especially since she worked on "Short Straw". Janelle recently completed her Master's Thesis, which she'll soon be turning into a book. Her particular interest lies in the different ways that women participate in and are represented by the comic book industry.
What It Feels Like For A Girl (In Comics) by Janelle Asselin
 |
| Sarah Jaffe and Janelle Asselin, Chicago 2008. You're welcome. |
Every person who loves comics has a different experience. We all have different opinions on where the value is in the industry – is it in the graphic novels that do well beyond our industry’s borders or is it in the superhero books the industry is known for? My favorite characters are not your favorite characters and if we were those kinds of people we’d probably fight about it on the internet (and maybe I’ve even done that in my younger days).
Within this geeky stew we call comics are the subset of geek ladies. We are probably rarely what you would expect. Stereotypes need not apply. We are young, old, curvy, thin, girly, tomboyish…you name it, you’ll find a geek gal like that. I think that’s easy for people to forget. Just like the men in the industry are not all like the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons, neither are women in the industry exactly what you’d expect. And while the fight rages on for equality and acceptance for my gender in comics and beyond, we are also often blessed and cursed with experiences that male geeks will never encounter.
So here are some of my favorite and least favorite moments of being a geek woman, so that those of you who may never know what it’s like to be one can maybe spend a minute walking in my shoes. In part 2, you’ll get to hear from geek women all across the industry who wanted to share THEIR geek experiences with you (anonymously, no less, so expect some scandalous revelations. That’s probably not true, but who knows what will happen when it’s anonymous?!). Take a minute and keep an open mind.
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