#Comic Books
Kaare Andrews rocking new ‘IRON FIST’ ongoing. Writing, and drawing, and wee!
For my money, nothing is ever going to beat the Brubaker, Fraction, and Aja run on Iron Fist. Seminal. Untouchable. In fact if you haven’t read it, fuck you, I forgive you and get on it. That said, I’m willing to pick up what Kaare Andrews is putting down.
No Comments
Shia LaDouche continues attack on Clowes. Is pretty much shit.
The Shia LaDouche unrepentant dick-bag campaign has continued trudging alone into the new year. After apologizing last week, the pretentious untalented prick has proudly kept swinging at Clowes in a couple of ways. Oh man, c’mon Suburbia. We get it. You’re a prick.
Rafael Grampa bottle for ABSOLUT KARNIVAL is gorgeous inebriation.
Well fuck if Rafael Grampa doesn’t feel like actually delivering any new funny books, at least the dude is staying busy. Nike commercials, vokda bottles. The talented motherfucker’s artwork is coming to us still, just not in my desired form.
Still though. Pretty.
Marvel’s 2013 EVENT REVEALED, “Original Sin.”
Uatu, the fat-headed fuck has been murdered. Marvel’s 2014 event is centered around founding out who popped the Watcher. My best guess? One of the other Watchers. How many times did that fucker meddle in human affairs? Like…seriously.
Image Comics has a pretty killer December in Bookstore sales.
It isn’t any secret to those that frequent this joint that we’re big fans of Image. Love the creators-centric approach. Dig an unhealthy amount of their titles. So when news hits that they had a pretty radical December in terms of sales, don’t be shocked at my little dancing dinky. I mean — be shocked that I’ve taken it out in the middle of the 7-Eleven. Just don’t be shocked that it’s happy.
Best of 2013–Eduardo Pluto’s Long-Winded and Late Picks
A week ago, I went out to dinner with a group of my friends. It was a memorable time, but it brought my year into focus—or rather, brought out its relative indistinctness. One friend, whom I hadn’t seen for a year, sat next to me during this festive occasion, and of course, having not spoken much to each other in some time, we decided to catch up. The problem was I didn’t have much to offer, so we were close to being caught up from the get-go. (It’s a wonder how I have any friends to begin with.)
The most pertinent conversation went like this:
“Hey, Eduardo! It’s great seeing you! So what have you been up to?”
“Not much.”
“Really?
“Ya, same old, same old, really.”
“I haven’t seen you in a year and nothing new has happened? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, I’m a year older than I was the last time I saw you, so I guess that’s something.”
Fin.
Phil Noto draws Hawkguy and Black Widow. Gorgeous.
More old artwork that I’ve stumbled across on the Tumblring Machine. I don’t give a fuck! Phil Noto‘s take on Natasha and Clint is gorgeous.
Hit the jump for the full look.
Ming Doyle redesigns Wonder Woman. It rules.
This is old. Don’t care. Ming Doyle. She rules. Redesigned Wonder Woman. It rules. Just found it on Tumblr. That also rules.
Monday Morning Commute: A Fertile Heart Attack.
Absalom Fabliaux was halfway done with a breakthrough paragraph when he was interrupted.
“Haythaire, old man! Haythaire! Whatturya doing? Writing a poetry? An’ wireyou dranking Pepsi?”
Although Fabliaux found creative solace in the white-noise of this particular bar, he also knew that it was inevitably accompanied by crescendos of human detritus. Oily Three-Pieces clamoring about the day’s acquisitions. Stock Pirates tryin’ to sandbag tear-floods with shot glasses. Little Black Dresses guffawing their ways into Designer Pants, hoping to find wallets in the process. In this case, a Pie-Eyed Intern intrigued by the sight of an obviously out of place Miscreant drinkin’ Pepsi and punchin’ at a word-processor.
“Searsly, man, whillyu read me a poetry?”
In his younger and more vulnerable years, Absalom might’ve responded with a left hook. He’d had no patience for drunken curiosities. Many a tooth’d been spilled because of some errant remark to which offense’d been taken. This was, most likely, a symptom of the disease known as Self-Loathing, as Señor Fabliaux himself was once known as the most unabashedly drunken, incorrigibly inquisitive writers of his generation.
But with age comes patience, and there ain’t no doubt that Absalom Fabliaux was old as fuck.
“Son, I’m not writing a poem, I’m writing a novel.”
A vapid gaze spread into a smile. Pie-Eyed was excited. “A novel? Like a book?!”
“Exactly.”
“Oh shit! I usedta read books all the time, when I was a liddle kid…I haven’t even thoughta readin’ a book in years.”
Absalom took a hearty rip of refreshing cola. “Well, you should – there ain’t no goddamn experience like sittin’ down with a good book.”
Pie-Eyed’s head lolled from shoulder to shoulder in equal parts intoxication and amazement. This old bastard – who appeared more suited for dock-work or trash-disposal than word-crafting – had reminded him of a lost love. An affinity suppressed. A lust relegated to dreams.
Unprompted, Pie-Eyed leaned forward, tapped Absalom’s temple, and asked, “So, do ya got a good book in there?”
“I don’t know.” After a beat, the writer tapped his left breast, “But in here, I’ve got ex-wives and dead friends and missed opportunities. And there ain’t no ground more fertile for stories than this sort of heaviness.”
“Will…will you tell me about a dead friend?”
“You’re goddamn right I will. Barkeep! I need another Pepsi over here!”
—-
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! As the navigator of Spaceship OL, I’m goin’ to chart an itinerary through the Pop-Nonsense Territories. After you check out the destinations I’ll be steering us towards this week, it’s up to you to hit up the comments section — where’ll you be heading this week? Comic Book Station? The TV Armory? The Cinema Sand Dunes?
In other words, it’s a show-and-tell danceathon for the Digital Nerd Crew.
Let’s headspin!
Fraction and Zdarsky’s ‘SEX CRIMINALS’ #1 gets BEST FOURTH PRINTING COVER EVER.
Hotsauce, am I missing something by not snagging Sex Criminals? I browsed the first issue and wasn’t blown away. But I mean, it’s Fraction and Zdarsky. And as this cover for the fourth printing of the title’s first issue (buh?) proves, these two are fucking amazing.
Hit the jump to check out the cover.
