Silver Surfer: Limited Series #1 (Pak, Segovia, Olazaba, and Quintana) - A Review

When I was but a young boy my uncle took me to a local comic book shop near my great grandmother's home in West Palm Beach, FL. It was there that I was allowed to pick out my first superhero comic book, after having been raised on Disney comics, ALF, and whatever Sunday strips my grandma would pass my way. My final decision came down to a choice between either an issue of Superman: The Man of Steel or Silver Surfer. I went with Superman because I'd already seen the Max Fleischer cartoons and wanted more. I never quite got over neglecting my friend Norrin Radd though.

Skip to this last Sunday at a local comic book shop where I discovered Marvel's new limited series featuring the beloved Silver Sufer. This cosmic marvel has always fascinated me. If I could go back to that day in Florida long ago I think I would have ditched the mulleted boy scout and gone with the Herald of Galactus instead (no hair, no mullet, no problem). This is the second limited Surfer series I've started reading, the last dealing with a crack in his cosmic skin or something (I'd have to dig it out and reread it). I wonder why Marvel can't commit to a new ongoing series? Sales numbers are the real decision makers, I guess.

Anyway, I finished reading my new issue this afternoon, issue #1. It starts off at the end of some story line I've neglected to read I'm sure, where the Surfer brings his master, the mighty world-eater Galactus, the energy of a sun shortening it's life by a billion years. He's troubled by this, and through his inner monologue we read of his thoughts and regrets. That's something about the board-riding powerhouse I've always appreciated. He never does something without being mindful of the consequences.

As the issue progresses, and as he waits for the severly weakened Galactus to recover, the Surfer decides to visit Earth. He ends up in a region of Mexico where he sees two lovers brutally attacked by some high-powered combat team. He interferes and yadda, yadda. You want more detail? Read the issue. The last page is what got me. It's what will, I'm sure, get you. It's why I'll be rushing back for the next four issues to find out the answer to my panicked question, "What the HELL?!"

This issue, considering the artwork and story, will be given a cosmic 4 out of 5. Check it out!

FF (Future Foundation) #1 & #2 - A Review

Lately I've been avoiding new comics. When stopping in at my local comic book shop (Apparitions Comics or Argos Books) I usually dive right into the back issue boxes and try to dig up old goodies. There's just not much that impresses me on the new shelf.

I will occasionally break this habit and peruse the new releases, only rarely picking something up. Recently I've grabbed IDW's awesome Rocketeer Adventures and surprisingly even Marvel's FF. It is the later that has prompted this little review.

Whenever a staple character dies, and this happens a lot in comics, I kind of get pissed off, even if I don't read that character's book. Steve Rogers was the last character death that actually got to me. I just really enjoy the character of Captain America. They, of course, brought him back (also common in comics). That's fine. Though when Johnny Storm recently got himself deceased an irritation boiled up in the back of my mind. Apparently, unlike Steve Rogers, Johnny's death was gruesome and seemed to be VERY final. This tragedy drew me in.

Due to my passing curiousity and feelings toward the death of the Human Torch I, as I previously mentioned, picked up the first two issues of FF (post-Johnny Fantastic Four, retitled Future Foundation). It's surprises me now after reading them how much I want to continue with this title. We have a new world in this series where the look of the old family has changed, enemies are becoming strange allies of a sort, and friendlies are being added to the team. So far the series feels like it's about a super science version of Xavier's School with a little Spidey wit tossed in for comic relief (Spider-Man being invited in per Johnny's final request). There are great character moments tossed in that give you an idea of how the original FF members are viewing their changing lives. That's really what stood out for me in my reading of the issues.

It's still very early and I don't want to spoil anything, so I'll just say that if you enjoy old Fantastic Four and the idea of a team of super brains solving superhero problems, check it out. I give it, so far, a 4 out of 5.

Geek Lantern - A Subculture's Failing

I've witnessed time and again geeks blowing up about the lack of dedication held by various comic films to their source material. Never mind that these folks fail to realize that there's a great difference between source material and adaptation. The adaptation must stand on it's own. Apparently this is a difficult concept for geeks to grasp.

Tonight I saw the film adaptation of Green Lantern. If anything this film stayed true to the comics, taking little turns here and there for sake of story and the film's own identity. I thought, after sitting through it and the credits (where a neat, inevitable event occurs), that it was overall a fun comic book movie. I'm not going to compare it to other comic book films. I'm not going to compare it to the best of the comic book's story lines. All I'll say is that the film managed to tell a good story while introducing us to pieces of a much larger universe. The characters were decent, the action was appropriate, and all the boundaries set down in the film around what certain things could and couldn't do were respected by the movie overall. The one issue I had dealt with a specific scene that I thought, for sake of story and character, could have been arranged differently, but I refuse to let that moment soil the full film experience.

It seems to me that geeks, no matter what you give them or how palatable you make it, have to tear shit apart. I've met very few geeks that are completely pleased with their passions and display commendable amounts of common sense in avoiding what they don't like. Unfortunately most geeks I know feel that their opinion is needed and that it must be used as a tool to curb creators to their tastes. Like anyone actually gives a damn. I prefer to try something to get a feel for it. I'll take it in, think it over, and then decide if I want to stick with it or abandon it. I understand passion driving one to become obnoxiously preachy about their feelings, but I'm trying (and I'd urge my fellow geeks to join me) to calm that part of me.

A certain clip from the film was passed around the internet before the actual film was released. It stirred up some geek ignorance which was accompanied by geek rantings. I've read judgements of an entire film based upon a short clip. This is not only ridiculous, it is incredibly disappointing. After seeing the film I must say that I now hold less respect for the opinions of those who slandered or libeled something based on a great lack of knowledge.

So to conclude I'll restate that this film is enjoyable and I would encourage fans to give it a shot. If you like it go with it. If you don't like it, stay away. Don't judge something when uninformed, don't use your opinions to obnoxiously attempt to bully people with your opinions, especially those who don't really listen to you, and learn to appreciate something based on what it offers instead of what it's supposed to offer based on source material or whatever else came before but is in relation to it.

Enjoy your comics. Enjoy your films. Be more open-minded. (This was written not to just berate people but to hopefully touch on the need for, and show the importance of, informed opinions instead of uninformed rants)

Sharp Stabs from Life

Whoever said "Life is pain" truly knew what they were talking about.

I've made a horrible discovery. It's information I wanted to have as soon as it should have been given to me, but something I had to wait and find for myself in the most painful way possible.

Perhaps I'm a fool who doesn't really understand how to function in life and what is or is not acceptable. Maybe my frustration and fear is invalid and I'm reacting in the worst way possible.

Perhaps I'm right to take this new discovery and burn in my own hatred and anger over it. I can feel my heart aching and burning. I can't tell if it's the pain of my new found knowledge or if it's the pain my body feels when I rage.

The life I was working towards, the life I thought I was living fairly comfortably, is no more. How do I approach the future? Where do I go from here?

The path to self-destruction, after all I've had to endure up to and including this, has never been more inviting. I'd like to set the world on fire and roll around in the embers after all is nothing more than fiery coals.

Perhaps I'll destroy myself. Perhaps I'll save myself. The future as always is uncertain, more so now than ever before.

I wrote these, for what purpose remains a mystery...

-Great elation takes a leap,

I arrived at this destination too soon.

The beasts of tomorrow glut

themselves on today's fodder.

Ambient noise is the song of

their union.

Let's raze the world in the

comfort of our ignorance.

-Ode to Customers-

Fellow travelers in the channel,

I'll direct your rudder.

Frustration abounds in tones,

I'll set all to right.

We duel with pleasantries,

your's mostly lacking.

You make life a less than

tolerable hell.

From Garrison Keillor, as far as I know, a poem I can't ever remove from memory.

Here on this Summer night

in the grass and lilac smell,

drunk on the crickets and the starry sky.

Oh, what fine stories we could tell,

with this moonlight to tell them by.

Burma Shave

For all the melodies that play across the span of our world, for the lyrics on the lips of dedicated sycophants of musical artists and bards, there are but few songs I truly love.

One late night, early in my adult years I was watching a repeat session of the PBS music program Austin City Limits. It featured Tom Waits shuffling around a prop Filling Station speaking the lyrics to an incredible song, a moving story. He'd glide over and prop his arm up on a pump, a cigarette bearing an impressive amount of ash hung limply in his outstretched hand. He was telling us of two strangers and their chance meeting, of dreams that fall short in tragedy at the feet of their destination. It was marvelous.

I just can't get over that song.

Let me share something with you...

I’ve heard that an artist’s work is a representation of their environment. Like a sponge they soak up all that occurs around them. If this is true, it says some interesting things about history.

Living today in a world of pre-fabricated, plug-in-play conveniences where an environment is a carefully crafted, plastic model of a corporation’s grand design, it’s hard for an artist to escape the fate of becoming derivative. Originality and uniqueness are qualities which evade the glut of today’s “artistes” who are ready to ply the heartless formulas of Pop-Monsters to their modular, tech-nourished, sense-deprived lives in hopes that they, like so many talentless fools before them, can line their pockets with pilfered royalties. How red their grasping claws must be.

We live in an age where the common man is encouraged to whore out his mother, wife, and daughter for a chance to grasp the rich man’s nickel. Shame, for this writer, is a horrific slight of an understatement.