It must mean I have nothing new to add to the budding story. Lets look at what literature I bought this weeks.
Justice Society of America #42
I had a cousin ask me how I can jumble aroudn the 20-30 comic book storylines I must follow every month. I tell him it is rather easy as long as the story is entertaining. He asked me what if I don't remember it. I told him "Then, I drop the book." I'm getting in that zone with this JSA/JLA crossover, right now.
Want more reason than that? All I can say is that I don't care for what James Robinson is doing in this crossover. If I can't be bothered to mentally file away the previous month's books, then I can't be bothered to buy this book. BMB was getting like that with me on New Avengers, but I probably blame that on his penache to not write in chronological order. Reading Avengers during the whole Secret Invasion story was just a pain. Especially when I didn't know until 3 months into the event that it was going on.
Hulk #24
Ed McGuinness draws beautiful Hulks. Meanwhile, I can't help but marvel at the difference in attitude in Bruce Banner between Pak's writing and Loeb's. I'm not qualifying it, I'm just drawing attention to Pak's Bruce Banner who wants to wholly deny the Hulk versus Loeb's more responsably reluctant Hulk. Loeb's Banner definitely embraces his Hulk more than Pak's does.
Shadowland: Daughters of the Shadow #1
I was pretty entertained with this Colleen Wing book. I was wondering what happened to her when she didn't show up in Blood on the Streets.
Shadowland: Power Man #1
Before buyign this I was pretty much willing to give anything by FVL a try. After this, I'm still willing to give anything FVL writes a try.
The New Avengers #3
When Bendis seems to bring a group of people together everyone speaks in the same voice. His ability to wield dialog does not shine until he has to focus on just one charcater, like Iron Fist in the white room.
Darkwing Duck #3
Sad to see Taurus Bullba be the big bad. Needs more Negaduck.
Brightest Day #8
I have a fist pump for Hawkman. I'm hoping the book is making a turn from its directionless beginning issues. Now, at least, the issue of the new Martian is being addressed, and it seems Black Manta will also, finally, be given some more time in the next book. Plus, I didn't have to read any more of Firestorm or Aquaman's whining.
Deadpool #26
This book did not seem to be 22 pages long. It felt like 12. Now I have to decifer if it was really needed. It just gives me this feel like Way painted himslf into a corner, storywise, with the last issue and had no way to resolving the fact Deadpool has a 9-5 job as a hero in Vegas in a really entertaining fashion. Yes, I'm saying this book was not entertaining. After a short fight with Ghost Rider there is another rehashing of Deadpool's origin, and that means another person's interpretation of the origin's of Wade Wilson. If Deadpool was actually a charcater that people hung onto every continuity bump in his past, like Wolverine's, he'd have as confusing an origin as Hawkman. So, thanks, Daniel, for giving us another story in the origin of Wade Wilson. It is not like you couldn't have filled the book up with a longer, funnier fight against Ghost Rider.
Uncanny X-Men #527
I don't have much to say about this except that the art is terrible.
Green Lantern Corps #51
This issue really revels in deaths. It is kind of sad to say that. i know I've had problems with the Alpha Lanterns as charcaters because I generaly don't like reading about people giving up their humanity to do a job. So, if this is the reaction that the GL writing teams has been trying to evoke since the introduction of the Alpha Lanterns, it has been accomplished. I just wish it did not have to involve so much death, as well.
Averngers Academy #3
This has been a remarkable book. I just kind of wish Gage did not lay the teenage skepticism/sarcasm/rebelliousness on so thick. It makes characters like Hazmat, Finesse, and Stryker unlikeable, to me, and when he confirms their attitudes towards the way the heroes treat them, it makes the academy heads seem like clueless buffoons.
Sad face :( for turning Speedball into a cutter.
Thunderbolts #147
And here we now see that basic title crossovers are trying to make it so that you don't have to buy the other books in the crossover to get a complete story. I really find that rather annoying.
DV8: Gods and Monsters #5
My favorite of the week. Then again, I was solidly in the tank for Warren Ellis' DV8 run in the mid 90s. This issue was a bit different than the others as it spotlights on two charcaters instead of one. Also, Brian Wood juxtaposes the fates of the two characters as they satisfy different roles in the tribe that kidnapped both of them. Sublime is elevated into the status of a goddess, while Evo is demoted into the status of carnival freak. I guess if you wanted to show that not everyone was happy being on the mystery world, someone had to get picked on, and, really, Evo is a bit of a whipping boy for the whole team. Just another solid book in "High School Drama with Caveman Armies".
Fables #97
Another solid book. And, hopefully, this spells the end of the nearly year long diversion from the looming threat of Mr. Dark.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Moving along
Catherine bounces an idea off him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
She recoils in mock horror, pointing a finger from one of her carefully cared for hands at him. “Evil man! I shall nothave my honored sullied in such a way!” She quickly finishes her coffee and stands off the couch. She wags a finger in Brandt’s face and begins to back away from him. “You will not invite such ill portents in my presence. Good day to you, sir” before she winks, turns, and walks back up the stairs.
Catherine was certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer. She opened the door into the Alarm’s offices to see Hines sweeping up the debris from the earlier tirade, and notice the silhouette of Wallace changing his attire into something drier.
The offices of the Sunderville Alarm would generally be considered spacious, for any business located inside. Wallace was the only editor for the publication, and employed eight typists to generate stories for the 4 page daily in addition to any news that is transmitted via the World News Telegraph Wire, which is transmitted straight to layout editor, Mike James’, desk. Catherine sits besides Mike and Marshton in a row of four typists, their desks facing towards a small alley created with the four desks of the other writers for the Alarm. In the back of the office is a small printing press which Mike operates with the help of Martin, and now Catherine begins to realize how many people whose first names begin with the letter “M”. She shakes her head in slight embarrassment and smiles at how she can marvel at something so trivial.
Once at her desk she notices a curious sight. Atop her work area is a plain package addressed to her. Looking around to notice if anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and tears it open. Inside is a letter addressed to her, along with old newspaper clippings. She dumps the contents onto the table and scans them over. The message is written on the letterhead Sturm museum. The clippings were stories in Norwegian and Swedish about a Viking treasure horde known as the Sigmund Horde and the message asks that she interview the horde’s discoverer, Andersson Sigmund.
A few posts ago I trie dmy hand at doing this, and found it way too clunky. So lets see how the rewrite goes. Right off the bat I feel like I should be more descriptive of the Sunderville Alarm's offices and play up the mystery package.
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
She recoils in mock horror, pointing a finger from one of her carefully cared for hands at him. “Evil man! I shall nothave my honored sullied in such a way!” She quickly finishes her coffee and stands off the couch. She wags a finger in Brandt’s face and begins to back away from him. “You will not invite such ill portents in my presence. Good day to you, sir” before she winks, turns, and walks back up the stairs.
Catherine was certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer. She opened the door into the Alarm’s offices to see Hines sweeping up the debris from the earlier tirade, and notice the silhouette of Wallace changing his attire into something drier.
The offices of the Sunderville Alarm would generally be considered spacious, for any business located inside. Wallace was the only editor for the publication, and employed eight typists to generate stories for the 4 page daily in addition to any news that is transmitted via the World News Telegraph Wire, which is transmitted straight to layout editor, Mike James’, desk. Catherine sits besides Mike and Marshton in a row of four typists, their desks facing towards a small alley created with the four desks of the other writers for the Alarm. In the back of the office is a small printing press which Mike operates with the help of Martin, and now Catherine begins to realize how many people whose first names begin with the letter “M”. She shakes her head in slight embarrassment and smiles at how she can marvel at something so trivial.
Once at her desk she notices a curious sight. Atop her work area is a plain package addressed to her. Looking around to notice if anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and tears it open. Inside is a letter addressed to her, along with old newspaper clippings. She dumps the contents onto the table and scans them over. The message is written on the letterhead Sturm museum. The clippings were stories in Norwegian and Swedish about a Viking treasure horde known as the Sigmund Horde and the message asks that she interview the horde’s discoverer, Andersson Sigmund.
A few posts ago I trie dmy hand at doing this, and found it way too clunky. So lets see how the rewrite goes. Right off the bat I feel like I should be more descriptive of the Sunderville Alarm's offices and play up the mystery package.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Catherine has to lie down, again
Catherine decided now was a time to get up and walk out before debris finds itself in her auburn hair and all over her new attire. She put her arms through her grey jacket’s sleeves, shuffles her papers together, and places them in her desk to protect them in case Woodford creates another small storm in the office. She whispers a short phrase into the ear of Marshton Brandt, “Coffee Break” and hurredly moves out of the offices of the tabloid paper and down the stairs into the common lobby of the Campman Building.
The Campman Building is nestled between the Armstrong hotel and grocer on Fullman Avenue. On the second floor is the Sunderville Alarm. The third floor houses the offices of ward #8 representative Cameron Lager and a small investment firm, Manos-Taurus. The fourth floor was unknown to Catherine. She hadn’t met anyone that works up there, nor did she have the curiosity to go snooping around there. The common lobby of the building is decorated all around with furnishings from the east: Persian rugs, Ottomans, and Japanese fire-lamps. Shelves of throw away books line the walls, along with pictures of building proprietors and famous events captured in the news. A small kitchen and wait staff is maintained by the owner, Joseph Campman, to cater to the business tenants. Catherine finds a reclining couch near a far off corner, waving off an approaching waiter. She removes her jacket, exposing her deep red blouse. She lies down in the couch, frees her feet from the pointed flats she wears everyday to work, and begins to collect her thoughts and compose herself for the remainder of the day.
Catherine Faber had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting. For years women have begun to assert themselves in several literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her. She wanted to write stories about society and the average person’s existence in the city. She wanted to be a champion for the normal person and show that people like her could lead fantastic lives. Yet, editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of Mary Shelley. News was being overrun by outrageous accounts of mad scientists and the consequences of their dalliances with dabbling in mastering the God’s domains. Newsprints follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic. Catherine is dismayed that mundane life had become so menial.
A second body sits at the foot of the couch. With delicate hands Marshton Brandt rubs Catherine’s feet, eliciting a purr from her lips. “5 more minutes” she says.
Brandt stops manipulating her feet and motions to a waiter. “2 cups of Colombian. Milk and sugar in one. Black the other.”
As the waiter leaves Catherine teases Brandt. “So, I’m going to be used as a way for you to obscure the fact you can’t take your coffee without a few additives.”
“You are my beard.”
Catherine runs a hand over his face, “Could you even grow one? I wonder what you’d look like with a mustache.”
Brandt cocks his head askew, asking, “Would you want me to wear something like Woodford had last year?”
Catherine erupts with glee, placing a hand against her chest to catch her breath as she giggles maniacly, “Oh god, no! That little broomshaped thing under the nose? Martin, don’t you ever do that!” Catherine tossles his short blonde hair destroying the part he put in it on the right side of his head. Martin begins to slump down in embarrassment. His shirt just drapes over his body. Catherine can tell how thin is he underneath his black, button-down, pocketed shirt. He likes to leave his shirt untucked a bit, as it gives him a sense that he has a larger frame than he really does.
Martin muses, “Perhaps I’ll grow out my sideburns and let my hair grow long.”
When the coffee comes in, Martin offers to cover the cost of both their cups, which Catherine gladly accepts. She put her feet back into their shoes and both her and Brandt sit side by side in the couch, silently sipping their drinks.
Catherine is pensive about returning upstairs. She has not had the chance to develop any real story for the next edition of the paper. It has been over a week since she could turn in anything she felt was up to Woodford’s standards. The last thing she wanted was to find her way into Wallace’s sights. Attempting to make conversation she asks Martin, “Have you gotten any leads you haven’t been able to follow up on, lately?”
Martin shakes his head no and lets out a deep breath. “I’ve only got my own lead. I’ve been working on a story about new advances to help extract more energy out of the volcano dome. The new director has been on a media blitz about this technology.”
Catherine whines to him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
The Campman Building is nestled between the Armstrong hotel and grocer on Fullman Avenue. On the second floor is the Sunderville Alarm. The third floor houses the offices of ward #8 representative Cameron Lager and a small investment firm, Manos-Taurus. The fourth floor was unknown to Catherine. She hadn’t met anyone that works up there, nor did she have the curiosity to go snooping around there. The common lobby of the building is decorated all around with furnishings from the east: Persian rugs, Ottomans, and Japanese fire-lamps. Shelves of throw away books line the walls, along with pictures of building proprietors and famous events captured in the news. A small kitchen and wait staff is maintained by the owner, Joseph Campman, to cater to the business tenants. Catherine finds a reclining couch near a far off corner, waving off an approaching waiter. She removes her jacket, exposing her deep red blouse. She lies down in the couch, frees her feet from the pointed flats she wears everyday to work, and begins to collect her thoughts and compose herself for the remainder of the day.
Catherine Faber had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting. For years women have begun to assert themselves in several literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her. She wanted to write stories about society and the average person’s existence in the city. She wanted to be a champion for the normal person and show that people like her could lead fantastic lives. Yet, editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of Mary Shelley. News was being overrun by outrageous accounts of mad scientists and the consequences of their dalliances with dabbling in mastering the God’s domains. Newsprints follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic. Catherine is dismayed that mundane life had become so menial.
A second body sits at the foot of the couch. With delicate hands Marshton Brandt rubs Catherine’s feet, eliciting a purr from her lips. “5 more minutes” she says.
Brandt stops manipulating her feet and motions to a waiter. “2 cups of Colombian. Milk and sugar in one. Black the other.”
As the waiter leaves Catherine teases Brandt. “So, I’m going to be used as a way for you to obscure the fact you can’t take your coffee without a few additives.”
“You are my beard.”
Catherine runs a hand over his face, “Could you even grow one? I wonder what you’d look like with a mustache.”
Brandt cocks his head askew, asking, “Would you want me to wear something like Woodford had last year?”
Catherine erupts with glee, placing a hand against her chest to catch her breath as she giggles maniacly, “Oh god, no! That little broomshaped thing under the nose? Martin, don’t you ever do that!” Catherine tossles his short blonde hair destroying the part he put in it on the right side of his head. Martin begins to slump down in embarrassment. His shirt just drapes over his body. Catherine can tell how thin is he underneath his black, button-down, pocketed shirt. He likes to leave his shirt untucked a bit, as it gives him a sense that he has a larger frame than he really does.
Martin muses, “Perhaps I’ll grow out my sideburns and let my hair grow long.”
When the coffee comes in, Martin offers to cover the cost of both their cups, which Catherine gladly accepts. She put her feet back into their shoes and both her and Brandt sit side by side in the couch, silently sipping their drinks.
Catherine is pensive about returning upstairs. She has not had the chance to develop any real story for the next edition of the paper. It has been over a week since she could turn in anything she felt was up to Woodford’s standards. The last thing she wanted was to find her way into Wallace’s sights. Attempting to make conversation she asks Martin, “Have you gotten any leads you haven’t been able to follow up on, lately?”
Martin shakes his head no and lets out a deep breath. “I’ve only got my own lead. I’ve been working on a story about new advances to help extract more energy out of the volcano dome. The new director has been on a media blitz about this technology.”
Catherine whines to him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Double Thursday all the Way
I redid my introductiont o Catherine by giving Walace and Martin a bit of a back and forth. I wanted to provide some charcaterization of the two while also giving them dialogue so that I don't have to explain everything about them in narration. I assume that's a good thing, right?
Wallace Woodford was summoning a storm. Catherine Faber could hear objects bouncing off the walls. The door to Woodford’s office would rattle and creak as it almost blows off its hinges. Wallace had a habit of generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Catherine moved to keep her head down to her desk, sitting behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer among the remainder of the Sunderville Alarm’s writing pool.
The door could no longer resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges. Papers, plants, pencils, and photographer Martin Hines burst out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and giving a thumbs up.”
Martin was sprawled out among a pile of papers, potting soil, and office supplies. He sits up off the wooden floor. “I’m sorry Mr. Woodford, but intelligent super apes that act like normal people tend to act like normal people. Rocky’s not some sort of menace to society. There’s no angle to play up”
Wallace snorts and yells, “Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress! Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
Martin picks himself off the ground, “Sir, the monkey doesn’t own any clothes. Plus, whose imperial clothes do we dress it in: Germany, Japan, or England’s? I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to equate a country with monkeys, regardless if they are highly evolved animals from the future.”
Wallace’s face contorts into ragefilled menace as he unleashes a rebuttal to his prized photographer, “Newspapers don’t start wars! If the Queen of England reads our paper-“
“King, now, Sir.”
Wallace pauses briefly. “She’s now a man?”
Martin matter of factly states, “She felt her body was too immodest. The female form does nothing but inflame the passions of the opposite sex.”
Wallace yells into his typing pool. “Who wrote our story on the Sex-changing Queen!?”
Wallace Woodford was summoning a storm. Catherine Faber could hear objects bouncing off the walls. The door to Woodford’s office would rattle and creak as it almost blows off its hinges. Wallace had a habit of generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Catherine moved to keep her head down to her desk, sitting behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer among the remainder of the Sunderville Alarm’s writing pool.
The door could no longer resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges. Papers, plants, pencils, and photographer Martin Hines burst out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and giving a thumbs up.”
Martin was sprawled out among a pile of papers, potting soil, and office supplies. He sits up off the wooden floor. “I’m sorry Mr. Woodford, but intelligent super apes that act like normal people tend to act like normal people. Rocky’s not some sort of menace to society. There’s no angle to play up”
Wallace snorts and yells, “Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress! Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
Martin picks himself off the ground, “Sir, the monkey doesn’t own any clothes. Plus, whose imperial clothes do we dress it in: Germany, Japan, or England’s? I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to equate a country with monkeys, regardless if they are highly evolved animals from the future.”
Wallace’s face contorts into ragefilled menace as he unleashes a rebuttal to his prized photographer, “Newspapers don’t start wars! If the Queen of England reads our paper-“
“King, now, Sir.”
Wallace pauses briefly. “She’s now a man?”
Martin matter of factly states, “She felt her body was too immodest. The female form does nothing but inflame the passions of the opposite sex.”
Wallace yells into his typing pool. “Who wrote our story on the Sex-changing Queen!?”
Comics for August 11, 2010
Incredible Hulk #611
I want to, first, comment on how this crossover was organized. For 6 months you could avoid having to pick up both books, Incredible Hulk or Hulk. The crossover did not hinge on you reading both books. Honestly, I don't enjoy crossovers built like that. Each month I'd pick up two books that had no direct tie to each other. Any information I learned in one book I could not completely transport to the other. I guess I like it when my crossover books operate similar to "Second Coming". Each chapter advanced the story and you had to read each book to get the whole story.
The theme of family resonated strongly in me from this book. I enjoyed how the heroes in WWH, essentially, relive bad memories of the past while hulking out. We all knew how the Hulk's mind worked before, though, and where his rage comes from. What was nice was the story about Banner's relationship with his dad and how it is an analogy for how Hulk and Skaar interact shifts the representation of Banner's father between Hulk and Skaar and shows how a fractured mind can interpret events through memory and constantly assign new roles to people given the relativety of the current situation.
Finally, Pak's afterward was a great send off to this whole event.
Birds of Prey #4
Even Hank Hall is tired of Brightest Day, now.
Daredevil #509
Here we have the Siege/Blackest Night way of doing a crossover. There's the main Shadowland title, and then the tie-ins act as satellites that fill in small gaps in story in the prior book. Nice to see Typhoid Mary is all aboard the Matt Murdock Ninja Express.
Shadowland:Blood on the Streets #1
My thoughts as the story goes on: Who's the Shroud? Wheres Paladin? Misty Knight really doesn't want to do work. Where's Paladin? That strip club is really going to hurt themselves in the long run w/o the Lesbian demographic. Where's Paladin? More Shroud! :(
Oh, there's Paladin :)
Justice League: Generation Lost #7
At least Rocket Red is funny.
Ultimate Avengers 3 #1
3rd panel on page 3, Blade looks like Professor X, as played by Wesley Snipes.
Titans #26
Oh god why do I have to be such a completionist. I really jut hate everyone on this team. Deathstroke is MIA most of the time. Osirirs is just Superboy Prime. I really can't wrap my head around the motivation of Cinder and her volcanic Va Jay Jay. Penitent suicide, I guess? Ink is whack. And I'm really not digging Cheshire's newfound conscience. Specifically, its just the way she is acting. I can believe she has a newfound love of life with the death of her daughter, but I'm just not believing her entire new personality or the way she is carrying herself. Example: The bottom three panels on the page where Arsenal joins the team. I believe panels 1-2, I've read enugh to know she's the kind of person to revel luring someone into a false sense of security. Then she shows remorse in the last panel. Honest remorse. That does not jive with what I expect from that character. Her personality is all over the place and genuinely schizophrenic, to me.
X-Men #2
From what I've been seeing from Scott SUmmers since Utopia, just taking the approach of "Ressurect Dracula to deal with the current problem, and we'll deal with Dracula later." doesn't, again, jive with what I've seen from him already. I'd honestly believe, "Resurect Dracula and don't worry, I got a plan to deal with him afterwards." It is weird when Blade becomes the voice of reason in a book.
Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #1
It is a start. Lets see where it goes. Attrocitus' skull wall, though, is pretty sweet.
Dark Wolverine #89
Remender writes this crossover so much better.
I want to, first, comment on how this crossover was organized. For 6 months you could avoid having to pick up both books, Incredible Hulk or Hulk. The crossover did not hinge on you reading both books. Honestly, I don't enjoy crossovers built like that. Each month I'd pick up two books that had no direct tie to each other. Any information I learned in one book I could not completely transport to the other. I guess I like it when my crossover books operate similar to "Second Coming". Each chapter advanced the story and you had to read each book to get the whole story.
The theme of family resonated strongly in me from this book. I enjoyed how the heroes in WWH, essentially, relive bad memories of the past while hulking out. We all knew how the Hulk's mind worked before, though, and where his rage comes from. What was nice was the story about Banner's relationship with his dad and how it is an analogy for how Hulk and Skaar interact shifts the representation of Banner's father between Hulk and Skaar and shows how a fractured mind can interpret events through memory and constantly assign new roles to people given the relativety of the current situation.
Finally, Pak's afterward was a great send off to this whole event.
Birds of Prey #4
Even Hank Hall is tired of Brightest Day, now.
Daredevil #509
Here we have the Siege/Blackest Night way of doing a crossover. There's the main Shadowland title, and then the tie-ins act as satellites that fill in small gaps in story in the prior book. Nice to see Typhoid Mary is all aboard the Matt Murdock Ninja Express.
Shadowland:Blood on the Streets #1
My thoughts as the story goes on: Who's the Shroud? Wheres Paladin? Misty Knight really doesn't want to do work. Where's Paladin? That strip club is really going to hurt themselves in the long run w/o the Lesbian demographic. Where's Paladin? More Shroud! :(
Oh, there's Paladin :)
Justice League: Generation Lost #7
At least Rocket Red is funny.
Ultimate Avengers 3 #1
3rd panel on page 3, Blade looks like Professor X, as played by Wesley Snipes.
Titans #26
Oh god why do I have to be such a completionist. I really jut hate everyone on this team. Deathstroke is MIA most of the time. Osirirs is just Superboy Prime. I really can't wrap my head around the motivation of Cinder and her volcanic Va Jay Jay. Penitent suicide, I guess? Ink is whack. And I'm really not digging Cheshire's newfound conscience. Specifically, its just the way she is acting. I can believe she has a newfound love of life with the death of her daughter, but I'm just not believing her entire new personality or the way she is carrying herself. Example: The bottom three panels on the page where Arsenal joins the team. I believe panels 1-2, I've read enugh to know she's the kind of person to revel luring someone into a false sense of security. Then she shows remorse in the last panel. Honest remorse. That does not jive with what I expect from that character. Her personality is all over the place and genuinely schizophrenic, to me.
X-Men #2
From what I've been seeing from Scott SUmmers since Utopia, just taking the approach of "Ressurect Dracula to deal with the current problem, and we'll deal with Dracula later." doesn't, again, jive with what I've seen from him already. I'd honestly believe, "Resurect Dracula and don't worry, I got a plan to deal with him afterwards." It is weird when Blade becomes the voice of reason in a book.
Green Lantern: Emerald Warriors #1
It is a start. Lets see where it goes. Attrocitus' skull wall, though, is pretty sweet.
Dark Wolverine #89
Remender writes this crossover so much better.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Two for Tuesday
Inside the abandoned warehouse, Moxy examines the mysterious steel ball. At the top of the object is a small hatch.Upon opening the hatch Moxy can make out that the interior is entirely mirrored. "Aw hell." he mutters under his breath.
Jason Raines from the Advanced Geometric Institute joins Moxy an hour later to confirm what Hannibal fears most. Jason's advanced mathematical skills can precisely calculate most objects area to the tiniest fraction. But his sense of precision are confouning him. "Hannibal, this thing is coming up as a perfect sphere. I haven't stopepd calculating Pi to the 200th decimal. How can someone construct such a thing? For what purpose?"
Hannibal can only posit. "Magic and Metalurgy to create a perfect sphere. Inside, the sphere is mirrored. It was once believed a mirror is your reflection in another world. An alternate you in another time. Meta-scientifically, this is the 5th dimension. The existence of multiple timelines existing side by side each other. If geometric 2D planes can cross each other to form polygons, then a 3D object is the intersection of multiple planes in space. If the 4th dimension is a timeline, then the 5th dimension is a time plane, and the 6th dimension is 3D time. Mirrors only operate on planes, so to access multiple timelines you need to be in 3d time space, thus the sphere."
Raines stares bewildered at Moxy. "What now?"
Moxy simply states, "Time travel through dimensional planar hopping. That's how our thief was able to nab those jewels and leave without a trace. Once he hops into the perfect sphere, he has access to an infinite number of alternate dimensions and can use magic to cross back and forth between worlds. Each point in the sphere is another timeline he can insert himself into. If he finds the right point in the sphere, too, he may be able to move back and forth on his own timeline. Theoretically it means nothign though. Each pint in time in 3d time is the convergence of several timelines. so anythign he does to alter the future just shifts him int another timeline. Dammit. Blow it up Raines."
Jason asks incredulously, "You're kidding right?"
Moxy sighs, "I was hopping I wouldn't have to run after him and get stuck in some dimension where ants are pets kept on farms or something equally as crazy. To pinpoint the exact spot in the spehre our friend ran to is ludacrously difficult. If I'm off by a fraction of PI, I'll go tumbling into a world our culprit hasn't visited. Or worse, on the return, I may never make it back here. Bad enough if an evil twin is somewhere doing this same thing and exits the sphere just as I leave through it."
"Odds of that?" asks Raines.
"Better than your mom being celibate tonight." replies Hannibal.
Ok. I have no idea where this is going except i needed to jot this down to actually mold into a better story. I like this idea from Edogawa Rempo's short story on what it must look like to be in a spherical mirror. I just comined it with my own mad thoughts on what the 4th, 5th, and 6th dimension must represent, and threw some grade school one-liners, and out pops this menagerie.
Wacky super science moment. What if Archimede was still alive in this world, and he's kept in a room where he must continue to speak the next number in the sequence of Pi, and that's how this world with no computers was able to do that?
Jason Raines from the Advanced Geometric Institute joins Moxy an hour later to confirm what Hannibal fears most. Jason's advanced mathematical skills can precisely calculate most objects area to the tiniest fraction. But his sense of precision are confouning him. "Hannibal, this thing is coming up as a perfect sphere. I haven't stopepd calculating Pi to the 200th decimal. How can someone construct such a thing? For what purpose?"
Hannibal can only posit. "Magic and Metalurgy to create a perfect sphere. Inside, the sphere is mirrored. It was once believed a mirror is your reflection in another world. An alternate you in another time. Meta-scientifically, this is the 5th dimension. The existence of multiple timelines existing side by side each other. If geometric 2D planes can cross each other to form polygons, then a 3D object is the intersection of multiple planes in space. If the 4th dimension is a timeline, then the 5th dimension is a time plane, and the 6th dimension is 3D time. Mirrors only operate on planes, so to access multiple timelines you need to be in 3d time space, thus the sphere."
Raines stares bewildered at Moxy. "What now?"
Moxy simply states, "Time travel through dimensional planar hopping. That's how our thief was able to nab those jewels and leave without a trace. Once he hops into the perfect sphere, he has access to an infinite number of alternate dimensions and can use magic to cross back and forth between worlds. Each point in the sphere is another timeline he can insert himself into. If he finds the right point in the sphere, too, he may be able to move back and forth on his own timeline. Theoretically it means nothign though. Each pint in time in 3d time is the convergence of several timelines. so anythign he does to alter the future just shifts him int another timeline. Dammit. Blow it up Raines."
Jason asks incredulously, "You're kidding right?"
Moxy sighs, "I was hopping I wouldn't have to run after him and get stuck in some dimension where ants are pets kept on farms or something equally as crazy. To pinpoint the exact spot in the spehre our friend ran to is ludacrously difficult. If I'm off by a fraction of PI, I'll go tumbling into a world our culprit hasn't visited. Or worse, on the return, I may never make it back here. Bad enough if an evil twin is somewhere doing this same thing and exits the sphere just as I leave through it."
"Odds of that?" asks Raines.
"Better than your mom being celibate tonight." replies Hannibal.
Ok. I have no idea where this is going except i needed to jot this down to actually mold into a better story. I like this idea from Edogawa Rempo's short story on what it must look like to be in a spherical mirror. I just comined it with my own mad thoughts on what the 4th, 5th, and 6th dimension must represent, and threw some grade school one-liners, and out pops this menagerie.
Wacky super science moment. What if Archimede was still alive in this world, and he's kept in a room where he must continue to speak the next number in the sequence of Pi, and that's how this world with no computers was able to do that?
Back at the office...
Wallace Woodford was summoning a storm. Catherine Faber could hear objects bouncing off the walls. The door to Woodford’s office would rattle and creak as it almost blows off its hinges. Wallace had a habit of generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Catherine moved to keep her head down to her desk, sitting behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer among the remainder of the Sunderville Alarm’s writing pool.
The door could not continue to resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges and papers, plants, and pencils fly burst out of the room. Photographer Martin Hines comes tumbling out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious Hines! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
This is a re-do on my introduction to Catherine Faber, her surly editor Wallace Woodford, and Peter Parker simulacrum Martin Hines. Tried to give the introduction more pop by mentioning a literal tornado being called forth behind Wallace's closed doors.
The door could not continue to resist the active forces behind it. It flies off its hinges and papers, plants, and pencils fly burst out of the room. Photographer Martin Hines comes tumbling out of the room. Wallace marches out of his office afterwards, swearing and pointing an accusatory finger at Hines. “Entirely tedious Hines! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is from our future, and our future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
This is a re-do on my introduction to Catherine Faber, her surly editor Wallace Woodford, and Peter Parker simulacrum Martin Hines. Tried to give the introduction more pop by mentioning a literal tornado being called forth behind Wallace's closed doors.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Redux on Chapter 1
The first European settlement in the Colmaya Valley was the town of Everton. The colonizing population would sustain itself through the trade of furs and game meat. The people of Everton would mingle with the barbarous tribes of the valley and both cultures would eventually meld into one group. Everton would rise as an example of how two disparate cultures could meld together.
In the 1870s, the mortal Gods of industry united to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its budding city. Everton’s population was straining the city’s infrastructure. New accommodations and amenities would have to be built. Railways were laid to ease transportation going in and out of the city. Sewers were built. Roads were paved throughout the many streets in the city. Lighting would be needed to keep the city burning bright throughout the day. A source of power would have to be developed. A powerful volcanic presence was discovered along the Eastern mountain ridge of the Colmaya Valley. Pacticioners of the old spirituality believed the area was where Colmaya’s heart lay. Investigations into the mountain revealed a long simmering cauldron of magma, ready to erupt at any notice. If the power of the volcano could be harnessed, it could provide enough energy to sustain Everton and cities hundreds of miles away for decades.
Construction of the great geothermic power dome began. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Everton, and many other cities, could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville.
Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble a hazy twilight. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest retreated and gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.
In the 1870s, the mortal Gods of industry united to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its budding city. Everton’s population was straining the city’s infrastructure. New accommodations and amenities would have to be built. Railways were laid to ease transportation going in and out of the city. Sewers were built. Roads were paved throughout the many streets in the city. Lighting would be needed to keep the city burning bright throughout the day. A source of power would have to be developed. A powerful volcanic presence was discovered along the Eastern mountain ridge of the Colmaya Valley. Pacticioners of the old spirituality believed the area was where Colmaya’s heart lay. Investigations into the mountain revealed a long simmering cauldron of magma, ready to erupt at any notice. If the power of the volcano could be harnessed, it could provide enough energy to sustain Everton and cities hundreds of miles away for decades.
Construction of the great geothermic power dome began. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Everton, and many other cities, could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville.
Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble a hazy twilight. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest retreated and gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Comics for August 4, 2010
Shadowland #2 and Shadowland: Bullseye
So, a few years ago, something called "Civil War" happened, in comics. Captain America and Iron Man go to war over whether vigilante heroes should submit to government control. Its kind of like the arguement over the legalization of Marijuana, except with more explosions. Government sanctioned explosions. Marvel stated that they wanted to paint a fair and balanced picture of both sides. Captain America is Captian America. Aside form being hounded by Iron-Man and the U.S. Government, Captain America's biggest headache is havign to work alongside The Punisher. Iron Man, meanwhile, hires villains to hunt down rogue heroes, makes a clone of Thor that is prone to going on homicidal rampages, locks any rogue heroes he captures in a concentration camp in another dimension, and has to fight against Captain America. So, the two negative extremes of each side represented, here, are The Punisher or Hitler.
So, out comes Shadowland, and now we see what the danger to Cap's arguement is. They take Dardevil and make him into Hitler with an army of ninja villains to help him fight New York's street level heroes. Except now he's doing it without government sanction. Greatest quote out of Shadowland #2 that sums up this whole thing: "You sitting here in your throne room in your ninja castle in your own little kingdom in the middle of New York..." that is both the most awesome thing about Shadowland, and the most dangerous thing, in terms of the actual situation, about a vigilante hero. Daredevil, fed up with law enforcement in a small area of New york city, has taken it upon himself to construct a castle int he middle of a major metropolitan area and a jail for anyone that crosses his ninja law code.
For the past year, Marvel has been doing some great events that boil down to delightful concepts. Siege is Evil Avengers try to destroy Asgardian Gods who live in Oklahoma. World War Hulks is The Leader and MODOK make an army of hulks to conque the world. Second Coming was Evil Machine opens a time portal from the future so Terminators can come through and kill mutants. Curse of the Mutants is vampires come to take over San Francisco. Now, Shadowland joins these great over the top concepts with Ninja lord attempts to impose ninja law on New York City from obvious castle stronghold in Manhattan.
All in all, Shadowland #2 is a real hoot. Shadowland: Bullseye isn't so bad, either. It gives the story of how Ben Urich fits into this while also giving us ghostly Bullseye haunting a schizophrenic. That is full of win and awesome.
SHIELD #3
I am not quick on most readings, especially ones that are disjointed. I tend to respond to such narratives better through movies where I can recieve visual AND audio clues. So I had to read this twice to grasp what it was talking about. It is a fine book, though. It lacks action, but here's hoping a showdown of epic proportions between time traveling leonardo DaVinci and Immortal mad genius Isaac Newton pays off better than my homemade videos of physicist backyard wrestling featuring a titanic clash between Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler.
Doomwar #6
Meh. My real quarrel with this book is that it appears other countries don't look favorably upon an invasion of Latveria. I guess I missed the boat on why a country would be against weekly invasions of the home of Doctor Doom, considering how often heroes just stop by to have a good throwdown with the doctor of the brutal arts. I respect Maberry for what he has been doing with this book, which is super-hero statecraft. However, once someone decides to take over the world, that should be unilateral cause for a beating.
Now, I'll just think how awesome a Marvel U.N. comic could be if we had the following things in it: Ambassador from Utopia, home of the mutants Scott Summer. Ambassador form the US Steve Rogers/Norman Osborn, Ambassador from Atlantis Namor, the Submariner, Ambassador from Wakanda T'Challa/Shuri, the Black Panther, Ambassador from the Vampire State of England, Dracula, Ambassador from Mandarin City, The Mandarin, and Ambassador from Asgard, Thor. That is a security council.
Avengers: Prime #2
A great story. Love where it is going, except: Why is Hela taking over the remaining Nine Realms in the wake of Asgard's departure when she barely has any real estate to her name in the Thor books? Most importantly, how does this sync up with what went down with Hela in Siege, which this story takes place directly after? I can only assume Bendis is creating a new swerve to throw at the reader in anticipation of issue 3, out in two months :(
Brightest Day #7
I felt satisfied in this issue. I've mentioned before that with 6-12 characters to feature every issue, that stories can't advance for each character at a satisfactory pace. What can happen, though, is that a common event/theme can be shared amongst all the different characters and, thus, a satisfactory story can be communicated to the the reader. That hasn't really happened until this issue, and that's why I am so tickled pink over this.
Deadpool #1000
FVL's story was best, bar none. Remender's story was second best.
IZombie #4
And here we get the metaphysics of this bizarrely populated world.
So, a few years ago, something called "Civil War" happened, in comics. Captain America and Iron Man go to war over whether vigilante heroes should submit to government control. Its kind of like the arguement over the legalization of Marijuana, except with more explosions. Government sanctioned explosions. Marvel stated that they wanted to paint a fair and balanced picture of both sides. Captain America is Captian America. Aside form being hounded by Iron-Man and the U.S. Government, Captain America's biggest headache is havign to work alongside The Punisher. Iron Man, meanwhile, hires villains to hunt down rogue heroes, makes a clone of Thor that is prone to going on homicidal rampages, locks any rogue heroes he captures in a concentration camp in another dimension, and has to fight against Captain America. So, the two negative extremes of each side represented, here, are The Punisher or Hitler.
So, out comes Shadowland, and now we see what the danger to Cap's arguement is. They take Dardevil and make him into Hitler with an army of ninja villains to help him fight New York's street level heroes. Except now he's doing it without government sanction. Greatest quote out of Shadowland #2 that sums up this whole thing: "You sitting here in your throne room in your ninja castle in your own little kingdom in the middle of New York..." that is both the most awesome thing about Shadowland, and the most dangerous thing, in terms of the actual situation, about a vigilante hero. Daredevil, fed up with law enforcement in a small area of New york city, has taken it upon himself to construct a castle int he middle of a major metropolitan area and a jail for anyone that crosses his ninja law code.
For the past year, Marvel has been doing some great events that boil down to delightful concepts. Siege is Evil Avengers try to destroy Asgardian Gods who live in Oklahoma. World War Hulks is The Leader and MODOK make an army of hulks to conque the world. Second Coming was Evil Machine opens a time portal from the future so Terminators can come through and kill mutants. Curse of the Mutants is vampires come to take over San Francisco. Now, Shadowland joins these great over the top concepts with Ninja lord attempts to impose ninja law on New York City from obvious castle stronghold in Manhattan.
All in all, Shadowland #2 is a real hoot. Shadowland: Bullseye isn't so bad, either. It gives the story of how Ben Urich fits into this while also giving us ghostly Bullseye haunting a schizophrenic. That is full of win and awesome.
SHIELD #3
I am not quick on most readings, especially ones that are disjointed. I tend to respond to such narratives better through movies where I can recieve visual AND audio clues. So I had to read this twice to grasp what it was talking about. It is a fine book, though. It lacks action, but here's hoping a showdown of epic proportions between time traveling leonardo DaVinci and Immortal mad genius Isaac Newton pays off better than my homemade videos of physicist backyard wrestling featuring a titanic clash between Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler.
Doomwar #6
Meh. My real quarrel with this book is that it appears other countries don't look favorably upon an invasion of Latveria. I guess I missed the boat on why a country would be against weekly invasions of the home of Doctor Doom, considering how often heroes just stop by to have a good throwdown with the doctor of the brutal arts. I respect Maberry for what he has been doing with this book, which is super-hero statecraft. However, once someone decides to take over the world, that should be unilateral cause for a beating.
Now, I'll just think how awesome a Marvel U.N. comic could be if we had the following things in it: Ambassador from Utopia, home of the mutants Scott Summer. Ambassador form the US Steve Rogers/Norman Osborn, Ambassador from Atlantis Namor, the Submariner, Ambassador from Wakanda T'Challa/Shuri, the Black Panther, Ambassador from the Vampire State of England, Dracula, Ambassador from Mandarin City, The Mandarin, and Ambassador from Asgard, Thor. That is a security council.
Avengers: Prime #2
A great story. Love where it is going, except: Why is Hela taking over the remaining Nine Realms in the wake of Asgard's departure when she barely has any real estate to her name in the Thor books? Most importantly, how does this sync up with what went down with Hela in Siege, which this story takes place directly after? I can only assume Bendis is creating a new swerve to throw at the reader in anticipation of issue 3, out in two months :(
Brightest Day #7
I felt satisfied in this issue. I've mentioned before that with 6-12 characters to feature every issue, that stories can't advance for each character at a satisfactory pace. What can happen, though, is that a common event/theme can be shared amongst all the different characters and, thus, a satisfactory story can be communicated to the the reader. That hasn't really happened until this issue, and that's why I am so tickled pink over this.
Deadpool #1000
FVL's story was best, bar none. Remender's story was second best.
IZombie #4
And here we get the metaphysics of this bizarrely populated world.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Refinign the background: The death of Colmaya and the beginning of the universe
The death of a God is common. A lot of religions feature the dramatic death of some sort deity. The native people of the Sunderton Valley had their own story.
Gorin extended his hand into the darkness of the night. When we withdrew his hand, he held a fading green star. He fashioned it into a spear. With this dying star he would slay his enemy Colmaya. The dark green light would not be easy to spot in the darkness of the unborn universe. Gorin launched his celestial weapon into Colmaya. The God would die from his wound and his corpse became the earth. The gouge in his body would become The Valley. The starlight spear would remain lodged in Colmaya, and become the first tree. Gorin, unsure if a God could truly die, circled above Colmaya’s carcass, always watching the corpse with one of his two eyes, the Sun or Moon. Colmaya’s blood poured from his wounds, giving us water.
Gorin was wise to watch Colmaya’s body. The God did not truly die. His life essence was sundered by the force of Gorin’s star spear, creating the many diverse species of life. All living things were once part of the soul of Colmaya. The indigenous tribes of The Valley feared Gorin’s retribution. His all seeing eyes would find them and finish the job he started at the beginning of time.
Gorin would fashion a race of people out of his own pale skin. He deposited them on the other side of Colmaya’s body. Gorin commanded them to conquer the people of The Valley. These were the Europeans.
I am actually pretty proud of this one. It is rather daunting, creatively, to think of creating a Genesis story. Should I use any real material? How much real material would I use? How much do I explain? Does it sound too ridiculous? You always kind of worry about that. I believe I did a rather good job with this, though. Cooke dit all up from scratch. I was not looking to take away from any current myths/stories. I know, though, I can spot some Cain and Abel in this. Maybe a hint of Aztec w/ the names. I'm sure the idea of a few others might be spotted in this, though through no intention of my own.
Gorin extended his hand into the darkness of the night. When we withdrew his hand, he held a fading green star. He fashioned it into a spear. With this dying star he would slay his enemy Colmaya. The dark green light would not be easy to spot in the darkness of the unborn universe. Gorin launched his celestial weapon into Colmaya. The God would die from his wound and his corpse became the earth. The gouge in his body would become The Valley. The starlight spear would remain lodged in Colmaya, and become the first tree. Gorin, unsure if a God could truly die, circled above Colmaya’s carcass, always watching the corpse with one of his two eyes, the Sun or Moon. Colmaya’s blood poured from his wounds, giving us water.
Gorin was wise to watch Colmaya’s body. The God did not truly die. His life essence was sundered by the force of Gorin’s star spear, creating the many diverse species of life. All living things were once part of the soul of Colmaya. The indigenous tribes of The Valley feared Gorin’s retribution. His all seeing eyes would find them and finish the job he started at the beginning of time.
Gorin would fashion a race of people out of his own pale skin. He deposited them on the other side of Colmaya’s body. Gorin commanded them to conquer the people of The Valley. These were the Europeans.
I am actually pretty proud of this one. It is rather daunting, creatively, to think of creating a Genesis story. Should I use any real material? How much real material would I use? How much do I explain? Does it sound too ridiculous? You always kind of worry about that. I believe I did a rather good job with this, though. Cooke dit all up from scratch. I was not looking to take away from any current myths/stories. I know, though, I can spot some Cain and Abel in this. Maybe a hint of Aztec w/ the names. I'm sure the idea of a few others might be spotted in this, though through no intention of my own.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
A raw background of the city
Padlmanque took a dull star from the heavens, and fashioned it into a spear to stab his enemy, and uncle, Comaxa. Its green light was not bright enough to spot in the darkness of the time before the rising of the sun. Padlmanque stabbed at Comaxa, thus forming the Earth. Padlmanque circles above the bloated corpse of his fallen family member as the moon, remainig vigilant should he rise. This star became the first tree, the gouge in Comaxa’s flesh became The Valley, and as water, Comaxa’s blood, seeped from his numerous wounds, life took hold and spread. The barbarous people of the mountain ranges believed that one day Padlmanque would see how his uncle cheated death, to spread his essence amongst all living things, and resolve to finish the job. According the the tribes of the Valley, Padlmanque fashioned a race of man out of his own pale skin, deposited them on a side of the Earth where no green existed, and bid them to conquer in his name. These were the first Europeans when they encountered the mountain valley tribesmen.
A dedicated order of Shamans from a splinter tribe of savages were said to use their natavistic magic to feed the spirits of nature inside the valley. Comaxa’s essence infused all life in the valley to have a resiliance to the elements unheard of during the times. Extreme heat and cold were a slight annoyance. People could withstand winds of hurricane force magnitudes. They could copulate and procreate in times no where near resembling the normal periods of gestation for their counterparts. Thus the wars began, as the people of Europe had to contend with a Native population that was hardier and able to replenish population quicker than them. They huddled agaist the mountain sides of the Valley, and resolved to let the savages of this area live as they wished.
Nestled against the walls of this deciduous valley, the town of Everton housed a population that sustained itself through trade of woodland wildlife furs for consumer goods from the east coast. Eventually, the people of Everton came to mingle with the people of the Comaxa Valley and both cultures assimilated into one. Once the gateway to a barren spiritual hellscape, Everton would become the ambassador of Man’s integration into a more natural world.
The mighty Gods of industry united in order to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its City. Railways were constructed alongside the mountains of the valley. In order to provide amenities to the people of the growing city f Everton, a source of power would need to be developed. Construction began on a particular mountain top, the creation of the great geothermic power dome on one of the mountains. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Upon completion of their task, Everton could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. Lights for the city, Underground sewage disposers, pumps for water, etc. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original animalistic faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville. Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble twilight. People described seeing inside the city to resemble like trying to see through a haze, or, in some locations, look into a burning fog. At nights, the moon and stars could no longer be seen. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.
Immediate thoughts on writing this; I need to find a better conclusion. I need to flesh out a lot more of the ideas of the story fo the two gods fighting. I know I'm leavng out something, and I cant shake the feelign that what I wrote is thoroughly boring.
A dedicated order of Shamans from a splinter tribe of savages were said to use their natavistic magic to feed the spirits of nature inside the valley. Comaxa’s essence infused all life in the valley to have a resiliance to the elements unheard of during the times. Extreme heat and cold were a slight annoyance. People could withstand winds of hurricane force magnitudes. They could copulate and procreate in times no where near resembling the normal periods of gestation for their counterparts. Thus the wars began, as the people of Europe had to contend with a Native population that was hardier and able to replenish population quicker than them. They huddled agaist the mountain sides of the Valley, and resolved to let the savages of this area live as they wished.
Nestled against the walls of this deciduous valley, the town of Everton housed a population that sustained itself through trade of woodland wildlife furs for consumer goods from the east coast. Eventually, the people of Everton came to mingle with the people of the Comaxa Valley and both cultures assimilated into one. Once the gateway to a barren spiritual hellscape, Everton would become the ambassador of Man’s integration into a more natural world.
The mighty Gods of industry united in order to destroy the sprawling, luscious, green valley and its City. Railways were constructed alongside the mountains of the valley. In order to provide amenities to the people of the growing city f Everton, a source of power would need to be developed. Construction began on a particular mountain top, the creation of the great geothermic power dome on one of the mountains. Powerful mages were summoned to forcefully activate volcanic activity within the structure. Upon completion of their task, Everton could channel the rage of the natural furnace to power any sort of the new and fantastical contraptions being constructed every day. Lights for the city, Underground sewage disposers, pumps for water, etc. This act was known as ate sundering, the time where the people of the valley forsook their original animalistic faith for that of the Industrial magnates. Everton became Sunderville. Yet, with such advances came the inevitable backlash of using such methods to tame the wilds. The lights of the city’s streets gave off a peculiar residue that wafted into the air, causing even the brightest of days to resemble twilight. People described seeing inside the city to resemble like trying to see through a haze, or, in some locations, look into a burning fog. At nights, the moon and stars could no longer be seen. The power of the magic underground turned the land around Sunderville into a charred, blackened thing. Water pumped into the city had the taste of ash. The forest gave the city a wide berth, allowing for the expansion of numerous new districts into the valley below.
Immediate thoughts on writing this; I need to find a better conclusion. I need to flesh out a lot more of the ideas of the story fo the two gods fighting. I know I'm leavng out something, and I cant shake the feelign that what I wrote is thoroughly boring.
Monday, August 2, 2010
New Character and New Begining
Catherine Faber silently sat behind her Guttenberg Moveable Type-Writer while Wallace Woodford summoned a storm in his office behind her. The door would rattle and occasionally bulge, almost blowing off its hinges and flying into the general typing pool that makes up the Sunderville Alarm. Office items could be heard bouncing around inside. Woodford had a habit of spontaneously generating tornados in localized areas when angered. Flash prints captured by Patrick Williams for the impending lead story of the time traveling ape were not up to the newspaper’s usual quality.
Unable to resist the force of the elements behind it, the door to Woodford’s office swings open and Williams flies out of the room, Wallace standing between the doorway pointing an accusatory finger towards the reporting cub. “Entirely tedious Williams! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is form out future, and out future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
Faber decided now was a time to get up and walk out before debris finds itself in her hair and all over her attire. In the common lobby area of the first floor of the 4 story building, she sits in a reclining couch. She had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting like other women have begun to assert themselves in other literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her, but it seems editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of her daughter Mary Shelley. Outrageous accounts of scientists, their dabbling in god-like fancy, and the physical consequences of these dalliances. News prints now-a-days just follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic.
Mundane life had become some menial that all news must deal with the metaphysical. Events of an unexplained nature have been appearing with increasing frequency as the world has turned towards finding the true limits of Aristotilian science and leading into a resurgence of some of the more ancient forms of worship, with their Gods more willing to interact with the world. People felt comfortable knowing beings of such immense power would take such interest with the normal world and exhibit such human frailties. The useage and occurrence of practicioners of occult sciences has grown so much in the recent years that more people than ever feel as if they could become Gods in their own right if the ones they follow show such human frailties. Popular theory suggests that the Gods were people who transcended their forms into divinity, and the feeling around the world is that, eventually, the rest of the world would undergo an apotheosis.
Results have been mixed. While instances of apotheosis have not gone up, practicioners of magic or technomancy have certainly gone up. Everyday thousands of new fantastical events occur. Thus, the newsprint industry became an increasing source of up to the day retellings of the day’s most fantastical accounts. Literacy has gone up amongst even the most poor of masses. Urban areas have flourished as more educated citizens are needed for increasingly more sophisticated jobs. Women have begun taking to the workplace. They can even wear trousers when performing duties not centered on their home. However, they still remain figuratively chained in their caves. Woodford offered her an imperfect version of her ideal job of reporting on the most amazing events of the day. Instead she would report to every other reporter in the typing pool the events of Wallace’s ever changing moods.
Certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer, Catherine ascends the steps into the Alarm’s headquarters. At her desk, though, was a curious sight A plain package sat there. Looking around to notice eif anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and decides to deliver it to Mr. Woodford.
She gives his warped door a few courtesy knocks before letting herself into his offices. There she finds him dejectedly putting his office back together from the events of the tempest he summoned earlier. She hesitantly asks, “Sir, This package, came for you, I think?’
Wallace Woodford looks up at his secretary. His eyes wide with excitement. “A mystery package?! I never asked for anything sent here. Cathy! Its providence!” Woodford takes the box out of her hands and tears into it. Inside is a small shining item and a letter. After looking it over, Wallace’s eyes twitch and he eyes his personal assistant over. “You want a chance to do this Cathy?” She asks, “What is it?” and Woodford replies, “The Sigmund Horde is coming into town in a few days, and in its lead up it seems the managers for it want to have a lady interview its discoverer. You’re supposed to wear the jewelry inside.”
Okay…I need to find a better way to show that a dues ex machina has come in to Catherine’s life. There's a lot of this I need to clean up.
Unable to resist the force of the elements behind it, the door to Woodford’s office swings open and Williams flies out of the room, Wallace standing between the doorway pointing an accusatory finger towards the reporting cub. “Entirely tedious Williams! These pictures don’t pop! All you got is a chimp with a smile and a hand out. It doesn’t even talk! Why couldn’t you have it dressed up in a suit or something! Outfit it in imperial military dress. Make it look like this Ape is form out future, and out future is murderous soldiers who subsist on a diet of plantains!”
Faber decided now was a time to get up and walk out before debris finds itself in her hair and all over her attire. In the common lobby area of the first floor of the 4 story building, she sits in a reclining couch. She had hoped for a chance to make a mark in the career of news reporting like other women have begun to assert themselves in other literary fields. Mary Wollstonecraft’s Letters from Norway was a major inspiration for her, but it seems editors like Woodford prefer stories in the style of her daughter Mary Shelley. Outrageous accounts of scientists, their dabbling in god-like fancy, and the physical consequences of these dalliances. News prints now-a-days just follow the idea that where there’s magic, it’s fantastic.
Mundane life had become some menial that all news must deal with the metaphysical. Events of an unexplained nature have been appearing with increasing frequency as the world has turned towards finding the true limits of Aristotilian science and leading into a resurgence of some of the more ancient forms of worship, with their Gods more willing to interact with the world. People felt comfortable knowing beings of such immense power would take such interest with the normal world and exhibit such human frailties. The useage and occurrence of practicioners of occult sciences has grown so much in the recent years that more people than ever feel as if they could become Gods in their own right if the ones they follow show such human frailties. Popular theory suggests that the Gods were people who transcended their forms into divinity, and the feeling around the world is that, eventually, the rest of the world would undergo an apotheosis.
Results have been mixed. While instances of apotheosis have not gone up, practicioners of magic or technomancy have certainly gone up. Everyday thousands of new fantastical events occur. Thus, the newsprint industry became an increasing source of up to the day retellings of the day’s most fantastical accounts. Literacy has gone up amongst even the most poor of masses. Urban areas have flourished as more educated citizens are needed for increasingly more sophisticated jobs. Women have begun taking to the workplace. They can even wear trousers when performing duties not centered on their home. However, they still remain figuratively chained in their caves. Woodford offered her an imperfect version of her ideal job of reporting on the most amazing events of the day. Instead she would report to every other reporter in the typing pool the events of Wallace’s ever changing moods.
Certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer, Catherine ascends the steps into the Alarm’s headquarters. At her desk, though, was a curious sight A plain package sat there. Looking around to notice eif anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and decides to deliver it to Mr. Woodford.
She gives his warped door a few courtesy knocks before letting herself into his offices. There she finds him dejectedly putting his office back together from the events of the tempest he summoned earlier. She hesitantly asks, “Sir, This package, came for you, I think?’
Wallace Woodford looks up at his secretary. His eyes wide with excitement. “A mystery package?! I never asked for anything sent here. Cathy! Its providence!” Woodford takes the box out of her hands and tears into it. Inside is a small shining item and a letter. After looking it over, Wallace’s eyes twitch and he eyes his personal assistant over. “You want a chance to do this Cathy?” She asks, “What is it?” and Woodford replies, “The Sigmund Horde is coming into town in a few days, and in its lead up it seems the managers for it want to have a lady interview its discoverer. You’re supposed to wear the jewelry inside.”
Okay…I need to find a better way to show that a dues ex machina has come in to Catherine’s life. There's a lot of this I need to clean up.
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