There’s a Grant Morrison interview in the May issue of Playboy, and it is accompanied by some artwork by Frank Quitely. It’s a pretty piece of artwork, throwing together Morrison with the various characters he has used as proxies for his mind-melting comic book technique. Most importantly: Jean Grey.

Hit the jump for the full artwork and some excerpts.

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I’ve been quite enjoying the segue from Grant Morrison to Scott Snyder on Batman  proper in this post-Flashthing world, so I’m anxious to see how the two of them compliment one another. Whatever the case, I’m totally stoked for another round of Frank Quitely penciling the rodent.

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With a headline like that, I better buckle up. It’s that time of the year where the Funny Book Factories begin churning out stunning efforts in mediocrity, otherwise known as Events. Yes sir. Yes ma’am. This week the all ninety-three Avengers teams are going to be throwing down with all fourteen X-Men squads and the price will be paid by readers looking for something not refried and snot-covered. (I thought this was called Civil War?)

Eh! There’s dope books a’dropping this week too. Let’s focus on that. This is Comics We’re Buying This Week. The simplistically titled column where us worshippers of the paneled page can gather around and share the funny book loot we’re snagging this week.  Don’t know what’s coming out? Hit up ComicList.

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I just woke up from a nap. The time-stamp on my compu-deck is 9:45PM. The natural inference is that I’m going to stay up too late, not get enough sleep, and drag ass all day tomorrow.

This is going to be a problem.

So how will I combat the First World Problem of being overtired at work? Well, with huge scoops of entertainment that’ll either sharpen my mind or further dull it! And how will I tell the lovely OL patrons which mind-bullets I’ll be loading into my metaphor-pistol? Why, with this very post – the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

C’mon, hop aboard and check out how I’ll be coping with the indentured servitude that is the forty-hour workweek. After you see which snake-oils I’m sipping on, hit up the comments section and show off your own curative elixirs.

1,2,3. 1,2,3. Keep it up.

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Just yesterday at the Funny Book Palace as Rendar and I were snagging new comics I got into one of my Millar rants. Condemning his shock-value bullshit and everything he’s turned into while simultaneously stating I couldn’t dismiss the backlog that made me fall in love with him. Mentioned I loved his run on The Authority with Quitely, and goddamnit now they’re teaming up again.

And it excites me.

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The phantom hides in the pantry, waiting for the child to awake. Always in the pantry. Always behind the cookies. The child, bleary-eyed and delirious with dream-dust, makes his way into the snack cabinet. His belly, constantly satiated by parents who know not of discipline, grumbles. Obeying, the child opens the cupboard door and reaches in to retrieve the chocolate-chip delights.

SNATCH!

Snack time.
For the phantom.

–-

Welcome, my babies, to the Monday Morning Commute. This is the place where we detail our agendas for the upcoming week. Avoid the drudgery of existence. Beat boredom into a pulp. Repel the Snack-Phantom. Let’s fuggin’ do this.

–-

Listening / A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra

In case you haven’t noticed the fleet of minivans parked at the mall indefinitely or the neighbors who think their front lawns are reasonable facsimiles of Times Square, let me clue you in: it’s Christmas time. Or holiday time. Or whatever. From my completely secular standpoint, I kind of wish we could all give up the bogus religious connotations of the Winter Solstice Festivals and agree on something new. One holiday to rule the all.

Anyways, I use a few different activities to get into the holiday spirit. Spending time with friends. Pounding eggnog by the liter. And most importantly, listening to seasonal music. Over the years I’ve run the gauntlet when it comes to Christmas tunes, from Jimmy Buffet to Savatage. Hell, if you don’t give yourself a chance to try the kookier coldcuts from the Christmas music antipasto, you’re really doing yourself a disservice.

This year, however, I’m going the route of the traditionalist. I took it upon myself to download a vinyl rip of A Jolly Christmas from Frank Sinatra.

Holy Jesus-Birth, Santa, a digital transmission of a piece of plastic that was listened to by someone fifty-three years ago?!?! Somebody with hopes and dreams and a consciousness that has probably since faded back into the Universal Collective?!?

Yes, I even try to make my holiday activities about temporality-defiance.

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[via robot 6]

I don’t know where this is from – an cover, a panel, or artwork of his, but this Frank Quitely depiction of Damian, Brucey and Dicky is too win to not share.

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Bruce Wayne has been dead for about a year now. During this time, Grant Morrison has unfurled one of the most interesting imaginings of the Batman mythology in years, letting Dick Grayson rock the cowl and having Damian fulfill role of Robin. It’s been refreshing to see typically static characters further developed, pushed into areas that drives some fanboys into genuine nerd rage. Yeah, it’s been great to see fans breaking down, screaming, “But…but, Bruce is Batman, not Richard…Because…that’s how it’s been…and…well, see…you CAN’T CHANGE THE STORY! BECAUSE I’VE NEVER SQUEEZED A TITTY! AND A RESPECT FOR SIXTY YEARS OF CONTINUITY IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING A BULLET FROM MY BRAIN!!!”

One might be inclined think that a comic whose cover advertises “The Return of Bruce Wayne Begins Here!” would really cheese me off. But Batman and Robin #10, the comic touting just that, is actually quite enjoyable. The book is a well put together balancing act, laying an early foundation for the return of the original Caped Crusader while still playing with the currently assembled cast. Since superheroes never manage to stay dead for long, the best one can hope for is a reanimation that still progresses the mythos.

With Batman and Robin #10, Morrison runs the characters through the unavoidable emotional gamut that comes with bringing loved ones back from the dead. On one hand, Dick is eager to snatch Bruce Wayne out of the abyss, snacking on every morsel of a lead he finds in his investigations. After all, Wayne is the guy that saved his life, offering him a home and a purpose after his parents got capped.

On the other hand, Damian is a bit more hesitant to welcome his father back to the land of the living. But when you look at it from his perspective, the reservations make sense. First of all, Damian never really had a great relationship with his father. Moreover, if Bruce Wayne were to reassume the Batman responsibilities, Damian would be SOL; Dick Grayson can go back to being Nightwing, but the younger Wayne has nothing to fall back on. He can’t go even go back to his crimelord mama, as he had to defy her to even keep his job as Robin.

When it’s not ruminating about feelings, Batman and Robin #10 has got some sick, kooky-ass comic book shit to keep you flipping pages. There are newly discovered secret passages in Wayne Manor. There are goofy bad guys, showing up just a second too late to get Batman’s mysterious ally. Oh, there are some strong hints (I smell red herring) that aforementioned ally is actually the already-returned Bruce Wayne. Also, time travel is involved in one way or another. I think.

The issue is peniclled by Andy Clarke and inked by Scott Hanna, whose combined efforts come across as an imitation of Frank Quitely. Which is fine, really, since Quitely started this series and is one of my favorite current artists. Clarke and Hanna are pretty much par for the Batman and Robin course, never particularly wowing me but certainly not disappointing me either. Again, I’d love to see Frank Quitely do every issue of the series, but I prefer this pair to former pencillers like Philip Tan and Cameron Stewart.

With its vibrant colors and bubbly approach to a morbid topic, Batman and Robin #10 is damn fun. Yes, I used the three-letter word that is to be avoided at all costs, but that’s what pops up when I think of this comic book. Grant Morrison is proving, once again, that comic books don’t have to be gritty, macabre spectacles in order to be entertaining.

Sometimes the light hearted approach is best.