10:55 PM 'Cause that's how I roll

I forget almost all of them, but the most prominent dream I had last night was of me around this large dog, who was friendly at first but then got mad, bearing it's teeth at me, and it's owner just says "yeah, you better pick up that chair". For protection, presumably.

It's that particular scenario which I'm always conscious of around animals, and why I just can't prefer them to people. Not that I'm that nuts about most people, you understand, it's just that most of them I can predict and work with.

Actually, you know who I like? Though it can certainly be frustrating, I like the people I can't predict. It's like a comedy act- they have the set up then the punch line subverts whatever you were expecting.

I know saying that makes it sound like I should like those crazy animals and what not, but no- the difference is with these unpredictable people I still know they're not going to surprise me by jumping me in an alley and taking my stuff. I wouldn't like that at all.

I reserve the right to not like people that I can be unsure of whether or not they're wanting to jump me and take my stuff.

There, that should be all my necessary qualifiers.

So hey, there was this kid today, sitting in a stroller, with three other kids around just walking- but then they started walking ahead. So the kid in the stroller gets up on reflex because he wants to be included with the gang, but then a second later he hops back on the stroller, looks up at his mom and whines/urges her to join up with the others. No question, I'm not a fan of this kid. He's an embarrassment to the Spider-Man hat he was wearing.

I wanted to type "baseball cap" but I thought that may be an anachronistic misnomer. Yes, Blue Jays hats are baseball caps- but just a plain hat... is just a hat. I don't know, I haven't done the research on this.

Anyways, I've got work in the morning, hopefully I'll have something more interesting to write about later, but no promises.

Oh, but that super cool food I was talking about before? quinoa (pronounced keen-wah) I'm looking forward to trying it.

I really can't find the name of that food. It'll show up.

For whatever reason I spent most of today looking forward to going home and watching the show "Community" at 8pm- it wasn't until about 6 that I made the connection that my working until 8:15 precluded my being anywhere near the show at all.

I definitely wasn't anywhere near my top game today. Of course so little is asked of me there, it was fine.

I kept nodding halfway off on the ride home, I can't remember much of it, but I was certainly dreaming. Mine was a very confused reality for a number of streets.

Anyway, I'm mostly awake now- oh I wanted to say: when I was hanging out with my friend Tuesday on the way for pizza (I JUST talked about this) he stopped in a novelty candy store, where he dropped $30 on 14 cans of Cherry Coke. Now that is decadence.
And I got to have one.
And I got a coke today too.

So my cola intake is about a zillion percent higher than normal.

Still tired though.

Oh, I learned about this new food today, called... quian? (kwee-an?) Yes, I forgot what it's called, but it's a type of seed that can function as a grain, apparently is chalk full of vitamins and minerals is gluten free (the benefits of which I also researched today... or I would have, but I didn't quite get that far, mostly I just learned about gluten and celiac disease- the condition of not being able to take/digest gluten. So I haven't yet seen if there are any benefits for someone who doesn't suffer from celiac disease to abstain from gluten. Anyways.) has got a ton of calories and (what's cooler) as much protein as milk. That's awesome.

Yeah, I'm going to check that out.

Okay, dinner time and then sleep.
Oh, don't worry- I'll be back shortly; as ever I've got one more post due within the next two days to fill my quota.

The Post That I'm Pleased With!

So I finally bit the bullet and bought the book.

You like that? That came to me whilst walking today, and I do like the alliteration, it feels like forever since I formulated a fine fission of familiar... words. That start with the same letters as each other.

I'm working on it, okay?

Ah, but what book am I talking about? Fine I can explain myself, it's not that complicated, unless I type it down in a manner that obscures what I'm talking about. Which is certainly a likely scenario. And then add in the possibility (however slight it may be) of me missing a key and confusing things with poor spellings and editings.

Oh, yeah, so Gravity's Rainbow was due back at the library today, and I couldn't renew it with it being so popular and whatnot, so instead of paying a bunch of late fees I bought it.

With the exception of my comics, it's been quite a while since I've bought a book for myself. It's unfortunately the case that I'm really gentle with my belongings, so I'm not sure I'll be able to lug this book around with me for reading purposes- it may end up consigned to the table beside my bed for pre sleep reading.

That's another library pro for me: the books are what they are, purely knowledge repositories, if I can read it, I'm good to go.

I sound like an aesthetic dullard- maybe I am a bit, BUT now that I do own this copy I've got to say it's fantastic.

Ah, I don't even know for sure how to describe it- I'm running my hand over its cover and the edge of its pages trying to decipher it; feeling its coolness (a surprise talent, surrounded as it is by the heat trap that is this living room), the paper lumps together like a kind of rough folio, with that "old book" smell emanating from it.. I say old book smell in spite of the fact that this is a variant, a kind of "young book" smell.

It just didn't seem right to call it "book" smell.

No, I couldn't take this on the bus.

***

So I went to see a play the other night, and the director told me afterwards that when he saw me come in he thought "oh, Isaac came!" as narrated to me in a sweet happy voice. It made me feel really good.

In fact afterwards I hung out with that director fellow and the lead male actor (yeah, okay, it was a three person play with only the one male).. I've known these guys for something like four or five years now from their improv troup; they're incredibly funny, smart, and I feel quite priviledged to know them in any capacity.

When I watch people talk in the outside world the thing I see most often is either a complete obliviousness to the audience listening to them, the speaker is totally tuned out to the fact that he/she is, in fact, an idiot (I'm always quite conscious of my own idiocy, thank you), or I see people that are hyper sensitive, yearning for approval from every quarter and thus never saying anything with any real conviction.

I'm actually more sympathetic to the latter example- I like to be liked too.

But with these guys after the play, I didn't detect any ego or anything, they didn't have anything to prove: they were just conversing. I guess it's lame that this blows me away, but it's rare is all.

***

So I'm walking down to Woodbine and Queen today, I'm going to buy my friend a pizza as an excuse to a) hang out and b) eat pizza- but I've never been to the comic store he's working at before. I was actually getting pretty frustrated that I couldn't find the place, I almost walked all the way to Victoria Park (too far) but APPARENTLY what happened was, in my mad dash to super sleuth the location of this store, darting my eyes back and forth across the street, was that at the exact time I was walking past the comic store my eyes were looking across the street, then turning my eyes back to my side of the street I noticed the Subway restaurant right NEXT to the comic store (it smelled good, I was hungry) and then, as my friend hops out of the store to get my attention and call me back, I trot out of hearing range because I was crossing a street and didn't want to get run over (streets are dangerous! Cars are there!).

When you pull it all together like that, it sounds pretty ridiculous, and it is, enough that I couldn't stay frustrated at myself- that was comedy of errors style stuff right there. So, good.

Not sure why my buddy didn't call me back with the old cell phone. Maybe his boss was there, so he couldn't do it? I don't know. What I do know is that my feet hurt, I should finally buy new shoes tomorrow.

Really, I got ten months out of the cheapest shoes in the world, I can't really complain. By all rights just putting these things on my feet should have caused my feet to spontaneously snap off at the ankles (or contract leprosy or something) so yes, not a bad run for them.

You know what? I'm pretty pleased with this post- so i'm going to call it:

I'm still waiting for my jetpack though.

Pretty tired, so I don't want to spend much time here, however, a couple quick things.

For some reason last night I could feel the switch being thrown that sent me from regular to grumpy Isaac. I'm pretty sure it had to do with getting some groceries at night, it being all hot and sticky outside, and I had that feeling like I couldn't help but be in someones way... which is the WORST! Plus I was anxiously awaiting todays 12 hour work day (If you don't get there extra early, how're you supposed to get rained on?!?)

It was so weird and tense feeling, while also being notable for the fact that I could still watch myself be all these things.

Anyways, I'm good today, I got to make a He-Man reference, how can you not love that?

But yes, I also wanted to make note of this: this one beautiful, energetic little girl was waiting for the movie to open up with her mother- she was so excited and having a great time, it was fantastic- and it was only AFTER being impressed with this girl do I see that she only had one leg. I'm rather glad I didn't notice that first (unless I somehow accomplished that subconsciously... but I'm not willing to give my subconscious that much credit) because then it would have been pretty cliche of me to say all that.
But she was excited and dancing around on an amazing prosthetic- and I've got to say that this is indeed an incredible world.

I still haven't thought of another suitably unboastful alias.

Finally got to sleep in a bit today.

Yesterday I thought about thanking someone for doing their job, then immediately heard what their reply would be- "are you being sarcastic?"

Then I would say "no, why do people keep saying that?" even though I know it has to do with me not placing extra emphasis in my voice, or an added exclamation mark if I'd written it down, because yeah I appreciate it, but it was only so good of you and I forget that apparently I should only be thankful if I was REALLY blown away.

So instead I just didn't send that e-mail thank you this time. Maybe I'll be up for the dance later, but not right now.

So, yes, if you think I'm saying something bad about you, or being sarcastic about something, you're probably wrong- anytime I ACTUALLY have a negative thought about someone it just stays upstairs. "If you don't have something nice to say..."


The exception, of course, being when you do something monstrously funny/silly/dumb and I point it out because it makes me laugh- and I'm hoping you can see how it was funny and can laugh at yourself. Again, if I don't think you can laugh at yourself, I'll keep it to myself.

The exception to THAT being my brothers- they can be surprisingly hard to predict whether they'll go along with the gag or get offended. I guess I feel more comfortable taking riskier chances (joke-wise) with those guys- IF they get offended then they'll have to get over it, because I'm still the only guy that'll drive you to your friends house at 11 at night (assuming it isn't the first time I'm watching 'Rocky' over here, which it won't be again- I'm looking at you PJ).


Notice that the last two paragraphs basically start- "the exception to this is..."
I feel so dumb when I start describing myself, trying to lay down 'Isaac precepts' and then I think "wait, there was that one time..."

Maybe you should tell me what I am, and then I'll happily tell you why you're wrong. Ah, wait, scratch that, whenever people tell me what I am I just get quiet because I very often can't take a compliment (I am conciously trying to be better about that) or I totally disagree with you but DON'T tell you why you're wrong.

Took a passport photo yesterday, and I know I've got crooked features, but MAN that was a terrible picture. I don't usually feel quite that unattractive.

Wow, hey, you know who apparently LOVES talking about himself? Isaac! In this post!

I don't know about you, but I need a break from that guy- I shall be 'Isaaco de la Yorko' for the immediate future. Ah, or something better when I think of it.

Two new friend requests... at least I recognize ONE of them

I didn't really have any intention of writing here tonight, but I've finished up everything else I wanted to do today (tvtropes.org for HOURS!) and why not post something while I've got some energy.

Don't want to jinx it, but it looks like I'm getting a free three day pass to the upcoming Fanexpo- in simplest terms a huge comic convention- so I can write about it. Which would be awesome. Especially considering I've missed it the last two (three?) years working at Ontario Place during the summer.

I've got way too many people on my facebook list, at least that's what I'm thinking right now. Scrolling through the changed profile pictures, the statuses, the requests for help in farmville, the calls for attention. It's tiring, it's distancing.
That said, I'm indebted to it- without it I wouldn't have known about someone's father dying, so now I can attend the funeral, or try to anyways.

Almost wrote 'passing away' just now before catching myself. I usually find myself slipping into euphemism in that area, but always force myself to say the blunt 'dead'. It just never seems fair to their memory to soften the blow to myself.

But if you consider that as advice, take it with a grain of salt- I can be pretty hard on myself.

The ultimate goal for today was to recharge and go to bed at a decent hour before work in the morning- I've been unduly run down at work lately... actually, those were all days when I was up late writing here. Whoops. But yes, I've done this; much sleep, eaten well, relaxed... so I now want to do push ups and run around and what not. But that would set me back.

I'm trying to be smart as opposed to just give in to whatever impulse comes to mind. I imagine it's comparable to being in a sensory deprivation tank but all you can think of is that if you open that door there's everything.

Oh, this is funny- I just checked my library account, I've only got ten more days with Gravity's Rainbow and I haven't even started yet. Looks like I'm going to have to shift into reading mode. A deadline makes it exciting. And Walden is at the library waiting for me!

What kind of a crazy man blows up a crazy house?!?

In a surprising change of pace, I've created a title BEFORE writing anything down here. I see it has failed to improve my titles. It's a quote from the movie Mystery Men, so maybe that's where I went wrong... well, I like that movie anyways.

Coming onto the end of another day off and only now at 11 am I jumping on to write something. Better late than never, and the fact is the hard part is getting started, then it all just comes.

So- Batman: Arkham Asylum- A Serious House On Serious Earth by Grant Morrison and Dave McKean, lettered by Gaspar Saladino

It's one of those big name books that most real comic fans have read, so I had to get to it eventually- it makes the impertinent boast of being the best selling graphic novel of all time. I imagine that is only the case due to the technicality that Watchmen and Dark Knight Returns were originally released in single issue format. Regardless, lets say this is legitimately, plain and simple, the best selling book- I attribute this entirely to being released the same year as the 1989 Batman movie.

If I've absorbed my information correctly, Arkham Asylum was written in this impressionistic style in response to the gritty realism of Dark Knight Returns (heavy on the gritty here) and Watchmen (heavy on the realism here... though I seriously doubt pirate comics would take prevalence in a world with a real life Dr. Manhattan. Anyways.)which is pretty brilliant to me- to see these two works enter the comics landscape and think "now is the time to do the complete opposite thing here".

Dave McKean is the natural choice for an impressionist piece, everything is conveyed by mood and the surroundings- of course I greatly prefer having clearly drawn "actors" on the page, where I can make out faces and what they have to convey. I don't mind the crazy surroundings or the occasional grotesque, but I start to doubt your skills when the painted shadows are all I see.

I included the letterer in my little credits above, Gaspar Saladino, because unfortunately a letterer will fly under the radar when he does a good job, but when the reverse is true, well, blame where it's due. In fact, this is one of my main complaints of the book which I would have attributed to Dave McKean before I saw there was a separate letterer- I can't make out a bunch of stuff! Mostly it's the scratchy red of the Joker's dialogue, done to look like splatters of blood (let's be honest here, the guy wasn't trying to evoke splatters of paint) and I have to work way too hard to try and figure out what's being said- one of the key reasons I felt compelled to read the script Morrison wrote for the book included in this collection.
I understand differentiating the different word balloons for effect, and I imagine the reason the Joker lacks any balloon for his words is to represent his lack of restraint in any regard- so yes, you may have a good reason to do this, but still, you can't just throw the words on the page- work with the background! If it blends too much with the background and I can't read it... well, I personally think it's a mistake to make.

The most interesting thing was reading the script at the back, particularly as it's a Morrison script, because with him it was never going to be a simple "draw this- character says this- next page" a lot of things are explained in the script, and a lot of things aren't.

The specific example that comes to mind that goes weirdly unexplained is when Morrison writes in a random crazy guy (the story takes place in a mental institution after all) who he describes as representative of Dionysus/Bacchus (forget which one he said specifically) but without mentioning WHY such a reference was important. Excepting Maxie Zeus, the man who thinks he's Zeus (duh) who doesn't play any major role in the book (I suppose he's there to represent a growth beyond mythology, even as Batman is growing into his own myth? It's a four page sequence after all, I'd rather not take too long looking into it) there wasn't any other reference to greek mythology in the book... whereas the whole of the rest of the book is referencing Alice in Wonderland, jungian psychology and the images of the tarot again and again. I clearly need to learn more about jung and tarot stuff to appreciate the book, but still- why the offhand reference to the god of partying down?

There's also this bit concerning Dave McKean- in Morrison's words he was unwilling to add Robin to the story, was having a difficult enough time deigning to do a silly Batman comic. Now the way Morrison wrote it here sounds like he was laughing it off, but if this guy thinks he's too good to draw a Batman comic, or too good to draw something that was written for the book, then I'm immediately really annoyed with him. There are so many people that would do anything to get that kind of chance, and he seems to take it completely for granted.

Of course this is me getting worked up over a casting decision made over twenty years ago.

The Batman portrayed in Arkham Asylum is very aware that he's playing the role of a caped crusader, and betrays a lot of human fear that I wouldn't expect to see from Batman, but that's because I'm reading this from the perspective of a future that took the tough as nails Dark Knight Returns Batman and has run with it into an invincible mythological figure. That said, that doesn't make Arkham Asylum incompatible with regular Batman comics history, in fact it's almost essential to his characters evolution, it points out the moment when Batman grows beyond his fears into that invincible mythological figure- it's the bridge between the two versions of the character that we'd never really been given before.

However I don't think we can take the story as something that literally happens to ol' Batman (yes yes, in as much as anything happens to any of these characters- let me have my fun), Morrison himself points out a scene where Batman jabs through his hand with a piece of glass and how that would ruin his hand forever, but just went with it because it was cool. Or maybe because it didn't really happen, but was instead a dream. Considering the abstract nature of the art and story, I prefer to take the whole thing as an incredibly moving dream.

Why shouldn't a dream trigger such an important evolution for Batman? Dreams effect the real world all the time.

A Splendid American

Sort of wasted my day off- I was planning on writing a good entry here, but instead spent it reading the script for Batman: Arkham Asylum (the '89 comic) and beating Batman: Arkham Asylum (the 2009 video game). Though I did get to laugh with my brother at how bad he was doing at the game (he could have done better, he was being silly)- it especially struck his funny bone he was laughing so hard, I loved seeing it, though I was aware as I was seeing it how rare that kind of moment was. It makes me sad too.

So once again I'm writing far too late in the evening when I should be in bed sleeping/preparing for work tomorrow (sleeping IS preparing) but I wanted to talk about something first.

I was texted yesterday morning that Harvey Pekar, the noted comic author of American Splendor, has died.
If you don't know, American Splendor is an autobiographical comic written by Harvey and illustrated by a wide array of artists- chief among them in the earliest days was the polarizing figure of Robert Crumb- appropriate since, if I'm remembering the story right, Crumb had a large part in attracting Harvey to the comics medium in the first place.

I picked up a couple American Splendor trades at the library a few years ago and was drawn in by the brutal self deprecating nature of his stories. They're as true as he could possible make them, and often that meant showing himself in the worst possible light because he would hate it if someone made the accusation that he portrayed an idealized version of himself- Harvey had never written that out, but that's what I read into it. It's something I see so rarely in people, a form of honour bound handicap, or at least a test to see if people could stand you at your worst, that when I do see it/think I see it I hold such a person in higher regard.

It's the kind of person that would say "sure, everyone lies on their resume" but never would- they mostly say that so as not to be in a judgemental mindset when others do lie on the resume, or whatever.

Harvey was a blue collar intellectual, he read all the time and every once in a while his comic has him mention 'So and so's theories on such and such' and it'd surprise you because, as with all of his good qualities, he plays down his smarts.

Mostly his stories were slice of life, little anecdotes that maybe wouldn't amount to much in the grand scheme of things but obviously touched a cord within him. Speaking as someone who very often just talks and MAYBE if I'm lucky will realize how what I'm saying ties into something more relevant after the fact, I appreciate a good story that's just fun to listen to.

Similarly, there was this one time in my last year of high school when my class had to essentially spend time talking about "issues" with each other- there was a scholastic reason behind it, but suffice it to say, people were opening up with very personal stories in a crowd of near strangers... I was there, so there was at least one relative stranger to listen to their stories. So I talked about the charge I got after seeing one of the Matrix movies in theatres during a day time screening- that feeling that you've got a whole day to you when the sun is still out after a movie, and the adrenaline from an action flick, and what especially stayed with me was this feeling of empowerment and invincibility from opening a door like it was nothing (keep in mind this was a Matrix movie after all.. I was swimming in thoughts of life as percepted constructs that only by a miracle can be manipulated by other forces i.e. Isaac opening the door vis-à-vis his arms. Concordantly.)

Ha ha, I'm really not sure how to use vis-à-vis, that was mostly just a gag for Will Ferrell fans. Soo, a gag for me.

Anyway, after I'd finished relating my awesome story that amounted to me being able to open a door, I got a TON of blank stares and was asked point blank "what was the point of THAT?"

Slice of life, true slice of life, will generally be inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. I think Harvey would maybe have even liked my story.

What's funny is even before I heard he'd died I was going to talk about him here- I had just finished what I think is the latest American Splendor collection (or at least the latest one I could get my hands on at the library) I was almost finished reading it on the bus last week when I was approached by a mormon missionary... I wasn't sure if it was someone I knew or not, what with the sun's glare and everything, so I just said hi, asked how she was, complimented her on her hair bow thing (I tend to like those) and then proceeded to rail road the conversation to preaching to her about Harvey Pekar.

I think that was pretty awesomelarious, but I'm biased. Maybe you had to be there.

I really wanted to meet Harvey sometime in my life, that won't happen now, but you know with the body of work he's left behind, and the kind of work it is, I do feel like I've known him, have met him. It's no accident that I've been calling him Harvey this whole time instead of "Harvey Pekar" or "Mr. Pekar".

A great book to check out from him would be "The Quitter"- it's his story of his early life and is therefore really set aside from his other work as you get to follow Harvey as he grows up and makes the change from tough overcompensating kid to the adult he'd pretty much be the rest of his life (not to say he doesn't mature a lot as time goes on afterwards, there's just a very definite narrative arc to his story of growing up... yep, it's one of those "bildungsroman" things). It also has the advantage of not being written under the title "American Splendor" so it's easily identifiable for the purposes of tracking down a copy.

And away from the autobiographical genre, there's his book "The Beats" (pretty sure that's the title) that covers the history of the Beats of course, it's really interesting stuff, and is a great way to learn... well, I learn from comics really well, maybe that's not for everyone. Still Ginsberg is the man... MUCH less so Kerouac and Burroughs.

And I should be in bed. Sorry for the lame title I'm about to give this piece.

But... I was going to write more!

I have not had any time for writing here, and I still don't, I need to go to bed for work tomorrow but first:

the other day there was this girl on the subway, she had her bike leaning against her while she lazily read a book and sipped from a carton of chocolate milk. A lovely picture as far as I'm concerned- BUT when her stop came she got up to leave and when facing the door, she dropped her empty carton.

Oh no!

So now I wanted to see what she'd do next- nine times out of ten if a person drops garbage on the subway they'll leave it, and that's without the added obstacle of a bike in the way... but she picked it up! I was pleased. Kudos to you, Subway Girl.

***

I went for a run this evening, because even though I've been on my feet all day I don't like waiting around for the bus to arrive- I made it past Eglinton (that's from Victoria Park station) before a bus finally caught up to me. That was something like 25 minutes, that is no kind of service to pay so much for every month.

Anyway, after I stopped running I felt that I hadn't opened my mouth for awhile- I'd gotten that thin seal that you remember from kidhood and once I realized I had it I determined to keep it until I got home. No easy trick, I wanted to sneeze twice while on the bus- I'd almost made it until a neighbor came by while walking his dog.

Social codes/graces! Why do you foil me so?!? I just wanted to arbitrarily keep my mouth firmly shut until I'd made it home. I'll forgive you, graces. This time.

Speaking of time, it's 1am and work is definitely happening in the morning.

Okay, as promised, talking about Wonder Woman #600. You've been warned.

My sun burn is getting better- a situation I'm finding very appealing.

***

Went out to pick up my comics in a bright bright sunshiny day- which means an excursion with my tilly hat which I will go ahead and pretend is an awesome cowboy hat as per usual. That plus my shorts which rest a full inch above my white white legs, my tall socks, my loitering in a Food Basics while singing along to the tunes they're playing... I see I'm an old man. Wonderful.

***

Got my previous pay, and today was a pay day as well- I haven't had this money all at once in years. Allow me a moment to luxuriate before I pay a bunch of debts.

***

Okay, so let me talk about Wonder Woman #600- first of all it was released the week after Batman #700 and Superman #600, so keep in mind everything about this issue is considered in relation to those two books.

First is the loving introduction by Lynda Carter, a name so synonymous with Wonder Woman it may as well be another secret identity for her. Which would actually be a lot better (i.e. less obvious) than Diana Prince. So, introduction- a big plus over Superman and Batmans books, neither of which had one.

The first story has Wonder Woman teamed up with a bunch of other female heroes against some evil robot sirens- so, yes there's a reason there aren't any men in this little battle- but if you have enough time to mobilize an army of heroines you could probably get, I don't know, Red Tornado (a robot) or Superman with a sound dampening helmet or SOMETHING. Really, my trouble is that it's a contrived way to get a whole bunch of the super women together so that they can go nuts at the fact that they got to work with Wonder Woman after the fact. The story would have been far more satisfying had it just been Wonder Woman and say... Supergirl teamed up. We could have been afforded some real interaction then, a true reminder of why Wonder Woman is awesome, as opposed to a bunch of random characters telling us "wow, she's pretty great, amiright?"

Although I'm complaining, it did end on an awesome note- Wonder Woman ditches the other super dudes to attend the graduation for Vanessa Kapatelis- a character important to the Wonder Woman series as done by George Perez in the 80's, so she's been around about as long as I am. Wonder Woman tends to get her series cut off and restarted, certain plot points getting brushed aside in the fallout, and to get some closure on this particular person is sweet and appropriate.

The second story was done by Amanda Conner, best known for her work on the cute-yet-cheesecake filled Powergirl series, pulling double duty as artist and writer. It was okay, except for the inclusion of Batgirl... she served no purpose in the story. And even though she was only in five panels Connor managed to get her all wrong...

I know that sounds dumb and really geeky, but come on. Batgirl used to be a great character but she hasn't been written properly in something approaching five years. In fact, getting Batgirl wrong has become something of an internet meme (well, maybe a niche meme). It would be amazing if Connor was purposefully using Batgirl wrong as a joke, but that'd be pretty far fetched.

There's the third story that's pretty much just a goofy brawl with Superman and Wonder Woman teamed up against some guy I don't really recognize (and if I don't know who it is, I'm pretty sure his name isn't going to help anyone else. Okay, fine, it's Aegeus. I still don't know anything about him). It's a throwaway story that would have been better served as the actual cold opening going into the graduation from the first story. But maybe that's just me.

We're given a prologue of the upcoming Wonder Woman storyarc by J, Michael Straczynski, a writer whom I have a lot of trouble with. He tries WAY to hard to upset the various applecarts without remembering what made them work so well in the first place.

Like, "wouldn't this applecart be cooler and faster without the APPLES!?!"
"Straczynski, I think that'd defeat the purpo-"
"Too late, I already got rid of them."

And yet he's the upcoming writer for both Superman and Wonder Woman. Well, two books I won't be buying.

But anyway, the Prologue Straczynski gives us is of an alternate timeline where everything is messed up. It's basically Back to the Future 2, so I would enjoy it in theory.

But after the fact we're given a mini essay from Straczynski on the new costume for the story- he explains how fans see Wonder Woman in a very limited way and that he needed to work to expand that. An idea I actually agree with, but to solve that problem with a different timeline i.e. something that will get wiped away by the end of the story, and really a different person- Straczynski isn't working on solving the problem, he's only putting off dealing with the problem or giving it to the NEXT writer.

That plus, this all new all different costume... she's got a leather jacket and pants. Fair enough, it is pretty awesome. It was especially awesome when the 90's happened.

But it's troubling... I mentioned this was a mini essay specifically concerned with the costume; he mentions her gauntlets leave a "W" on guys faces when they get punched (which is just dumb anyways), but doesn't go into why exactly she has such a thing in the first place. It's all superficial, it's all image. There have got to be twice as many pin ups of Wonder Woman in this comic than in Superman #700 and Batman #700 combined.

Wonder Woman is the most prominent female super hero in all of comics, that's a pretty big deal as far as I'm concerned- but for the most part this book doesn't honour that.

Wow, I sound like I love Wonder Woman.
She can be pretty good.

I didn't even come close to covering everything I've been thinking of.

I've been running out of time to post this past week. Let's fix this a bit.

I have an interesting quirk in that I consistently fail to consider the weather- specifically when I'm exercising or just gauging how tired I am during the day my mind immediately measures how much sleep I've had as well as how I've eaten the past little while- and if I've had my sleep, had my munchies, and yet still find myself out of breath during a run I can never figure out what the deal is... until I get home and the news says "...so after a sweltering day" and I realize-

"Oh! Hot makes slow and tired!"

That said, I was still pretty speedy yesterday.

I've got a nice little burn from working sunday- I'm one of the lucky few peons at Ontario Place who gets to work inside most of the time, but they gave me a few additional responsibilities for the boat parade that happened. Still didn't think I was outside long enough to burn, but that was clearly my mistake. Still tender on the ol' forehead, but otherwise it should turn into simply a little colour in the next day or so.

Catch-22: I almost forgot about it.

I may have already mentioned this, but the way I read it- reading the first hundred pages before getting distracted with other stuff, helped reinforce my impression that it was something constructed in such a way that any chapter could have held up on its own. Often the chapters kept asserting an every day insanity that most people either don't seem to realize or simply accept as the natural way of things.

The protagonist Yossarian realizes the insanity, but can no longer accept it or go along with it.

The concluding chapters obviously had to be at the end (I say this because I feel the order of most of the chapters, particularly the beginning ones, could have been rearranged with little effect on the narrative) where Yossarian is offered his way out of the war- the only caveat being that he must act as corrupt as those in charge that have placed him (and others) in danger.

He was trapped by the two options- either becoming a corrupt fraud, or acquiescing to the demand of flying unlimited dangerous bombing missions. Until he realizes it doesn't have to be an either/or thing, he can knock over the table and run away, because there's always hope, as evidenced by the incredible story of Orr (think that was the character, there are a lot of extra characters in this book, especially this long after reading it) surviving his crash and running to safety in Sweden.

I was always pretty sure Orr had survived his crash, that he planned it for the purposes of desertion, but it confused me that Yossarian hadn't come to that conclusion himself. Either I'm just a little more genre savvy than Yossarian (readily possible, this was a book written fifty years ago) or else the author had to limit Yossarians insight for the purposes of the ending he had in mind for the novel. If the second option is true, it's disappointing- I'm not a fan of writing to the ending, but writing to the character... though I find it hard to imagine someone saying "Yes, I'm a fan of writing to the ending, disregarding the characters natural inclinations."

The book is often a nightmare scenario- I mean any time Yossarian is yelling/pleading at someone for some humanity, to just listen to him and respond in a way that makes sense, and almost nobody comes through.

This one monster, Aarfy, is often just mindlessly laughing in response to Yossarian's cries to STOP LAUGHING! Just leave! Yossarian is even hitting Aarfy, but to no effect. Seeing something you want to stop, and can't effect it all, if that isn't a nightmare, I don't know what is.

***

I also wanted to talk about a few comics I finished reading, but I'm tired (it's hot out)

so don't let me forget to bring up Steve Niles and Kelley Jones Batman: Gotham After Midnight, Ed Brubaker (and... Sean Phillips? not sure) Incognito, and Harvey Pekar's American Splendor: Another Dollar, as well as my impressions on Wonder Woman #600.

I don't neccesarily have much to say about them (I've got a bunch to say about Wonder Woman actually), but I'm needing a break.

My brother picked up some stuff at the library for me- chief of which is that Gravity's Rainbow I know my friend Kristen likes. Honestly, I'm worried I won't "get it" or like it, but we'll see what happens. It's not as though I've even cracked it open yet, and I do like a challenge every now and then.

Going a little cross eyed here, so one look over will have to do- publishing now