George Herriman, Pop Culture Bad Boy.

George Herriman is a goddamn genius. I don’t mean the E=MC2rd kind. I mean this dude totally understood the time he lived in. He just “got it” and I think this understanding of popular culture combined with his tireless creativity is what made him stand out among other comic strip artists/writers at the time.

Let’s rewind a bit. I read some Krazy and Ignatz earlier in the semester and didn’t really comprehend what I was reading and seeing. Rarely does this happen to me, and when it does it INFURIATES me!!! I didn’t get why I didn’t get it. I thought things like what’s so funny about this? Why is George Herriman considered one of the best comic artists of all time? I must be an idiot, I understand less than half of these. I made a mental note to visit Mr. Herriman again later in the semester when I had the time.

Fastforward to last week. Thesis is over, I have all the time in the world to do whatever it is I want. My free time is usually spent reading, playing video games, or hanging out with my friends. This week, however, I had a mission. It’s time to reclaim my ego from that brick-throwing mouse.

I did what any man on a mission would do. I slithered into the library as soon as it opened. I walked right over to the shelf that stored the comic books, grabbed all the Krazy and Ignatz I could find, and sat down on shiny leather chairs that love to make fart sounds every time you shift your position.

Then finally, under a cacophony of leather made farts, I understood Herriman. Here’s the exact thought that went through my mind: My god, this dude is the pop culture know-it-all of his time.

I shall try my best to explainsies. His writing jives off of contemporary knowledge. Whether it is a poem, or a verse from the bible, or some sort of colloquial jargon—the readers of the time would’ve got the reference immediately.  Here’s an example of Officer Pupp riffing off a phrase from the bible as he addresses Ignatz: “Whither you go, ‘Mouse’, there do I also go. That I do for the good of the law. And if my eyes offend you, I bud you bind them, seal them.” (April 20, 1941).

What Herriman did was fuse two different biblical passages into one. The first being Ruth’s striking words to Naomi: For wither thou goest, I will go: and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.” (Ruth 1:16) The second part of this passage reminds me of a warning from Jesus: “And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out.” (Mark 9:47).

You see allusions to other work all the time in George Herriman’s work. I’ve read that he often went as far as making comic strips about new articles within the paper, really riffing on the content that was given to him. As I said, the dude was a pop culture genius.

Goodbye Chunky Rice

The other day I read Goodbye Chunky Rice by Craig Thompson. This semester I read Habibi and Blankets for the first time. Craig Thompson created both of those Graphic Novels, too.

It’s hard to believe that the guy who created Blankets and Habibi also wrote Goodbye Chunky Rice because how different they are stylistically.  Instead of keeping it on the borderline of realism, he uses anthromophic personifications to create his main character and some supporting characters. (Namely a turtle and mouse mixed in with a largely human citizenry.)

The narrative feels very Thompsonesque, you can tell he was a pretty moody dude. And that’s okay. As long as he’s not like, forcing himself into emotionally heart wrenching situations so he has something to write about—which I doubt he is—than it’s all “good in the hood” so to speak.

All his work in cinematic, and I believe each of his books deserve to be read in one sitting. I feel like that was kind of the point of them.

What Thompson does well, that you see other astute authors and graphic novelists doing, is he is taking very old and simple ideas or story archetypes and he’s updating the plot for the modern reader.

What I’m trying to say is that his works can be summed up in one sentence. Which is good, because he goes much deeper than one sentence in his works.

Here: Blankets—A coming of age story.

Habibi—A story about love

Goodbye Chunky Rice­—Saying farewell to those you’ll never see again.

Check out his Craig Thompson’s work if you haven’t already. It’s a great place to start.

Short story I wrote a while ago.

Jacob awakened to the buzzing of his alarm clock. The neon-red numbers blinked 6:00am. “Just another day in Paradise,” he sighed as he shoved an arm through his sweat-stained shirt.

Yawning, he ambled to the cockpit. The cold, lifeless steel sent a shiver up his spine. He looked out the window and witnessed a peach-cream flash. His heart started thumping.

“Computer, what was that? Was it the Golem?” He shouted and the metal vibrated an echo.

“I do not know, Captain. I shall run scans on the engine residues left by the ship,” his AI said back to him in a lifelike voice. He’s never gotten used to how, alive, she seems.

It must have been hiding here, and jumped to hyperspace as soon as it saw us, Jacob thought as he strapped on his graying boots. “I’ve been hunting this damn ship for too long.” He muttered.

Jacob entered the cockpit; the smell of stale air comforted him. “Computer, where did the ship go?”

“It appears that it has arrived in the Vltava Sector. I can set a course and engage the Faster Than Light drives.”

“Yes Computer, do that, now.” Jacob said as he locked himself into his chair.

It’s the same chair he’d sat in for the past 13 years of his life. First, when he was a Prague Space Marshal, now, as a bounty hunter.

During the early years of the Expanse, a glorified word for invading smaller sectors, Jacob was fighting for Prague. The army just seemed like the best place for a poor boy from the ghetto. He was dishonorably discharged after not firing upon an enemy ship full of evacuating women and children.

So, he did what any poor boy from the ghetto would do. He stole the Starship Bezalel. The rust-bucket coffin he’s now in.

Each year his past became blurrier, more dreamlike. His memories had shattered like glass, and in each piece he picked up, he found a part of himself, while running the risk of getting cut.

Let’s go over the mission brief one more time, Jacob thought as he opened up his operations log: S-Class ship, no crew, AI mainframe, morphable, stealth fighter, he murmured to himself. Ships with no crew were illegal in the Prague Empire. In fact, they were thought to have been eradicated after the Expanse. Then, why on Earth am I chasing one down? he pondered.

“Captain,” the smooth voice snapped Jacob out of his thoughts. “The FTL drives are warmed up. Are you ready for the jump?”

“Do it.”

And so, he jumped to hyperspace. Moments later, he was in an unfamiliar part of the Prague Sector. His scanners read that he was somewhere in the Vltava Belt, near the planet Genizah. The Golem was near. Jacob never got used to space jumps. He was still taking his time to get used to the idea of the universe popping around him, and ending up in a different place only seconds later.

Jacob poured some coffee into his dented tin cup. It tasted more like decaying water, but, at least something was in his stomach. He smashed his finger onto the control panel. Immediately, the ship’s scanners flickered to life. The search for the Golem had begun.

This hunt was personal. As a boy, Golem had saved Jacob’s home planet many times: from pirates, other empires, and anyone who would try to do harm. It was common for impoverished planets to hire AI ships to protect them from harm. Even though it was illegal, it saved a ton of money. No need to feed and pay a fleet. Hunting down the Golem wasn’t what Jacob wanted to do, but, this was a big fish.

He knew the risk. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash, and Jacob braced himself against the grating metal as the impact of the blast hit his ship. Suddenly, he realized that he fell for Golem’s trap. Suddenly, he understood why the bounty on the Golem was so large. Suddenly, he felt his heart thumping, vibrating into his marrow. He was afraid.

“Computer: damage report!” He shouted, as his body stood alert. “And get the forward-mounted guns on manual.”

“It appears that the hull and FTL drives have been disabled by the impact,” the computer said with the same eerie calmness as always. “I can send the drones out to fix it, but, not until we’re safe. Estimated repair time is two hours,” she said.

Two hours… Jacob repeated in his head as the gun’s cross hairs locked into position.

“Computer, control the starboard and port guns. Aim for the Golem’s FTL drive. The ship is worth nothing if it’s destroyed.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And, remember, we need to…”The second blast cut him off. He was a sitting duck out here. And he knew that.

“Computer, begin evasive maneuvers, head into Genizah’s asteroid belt. He’ll have to chase us.”

“I’m sorry, Captain, but, I cannot. The autopilot is malfunctioning.” “Fine, control all guns, I’ll fly the ship,” Jacob said as he wiped the sweat off his palms.

“Captain, I advise against–”

“I don’t have time for your advice, just do it.”

“Yes, Captain,” the computer said with what sounded like a grudge.

Jacob dashed into the asteroid belt. Like clockwork, the sensors picked up an object trailing behind him. He could not see the phantom, but, he knew that the blackness of space enveloped Golem’s unshapely form.

How did a man fight a demon? Jacob mused. Did David really win? Or, did Goliath leave his corpse on the blood-caked dirt for the crows and beasts to gnaw on? Just then his ship started to jitter. Jacob knew that one more blast would be his doom. With his death, the contract would be over, his signature signed. He knew he was dead. His heart skipped as an idea churned in his head, and Jacob darted around a large asteroid.

“Computer: power off the ship.”

“Captain, once the ship is powered down. Oxygen within the cockpit will only last for three minutes.”

“Understood. Power down.”

And, everything went dark. In the quiet blackness of space, the pounding of his heart sounded more like a symphony than a solitary thud. His pulse was the only sound for millions of miles. Genizah was an empty place of Holy solitude. One minute had passed.

The sweat dripped from his nose to the chair. He searched the black void. Looking into the nothingness of space, at more nothingness. Two minutes passed, then three. A light flickered in front of him.

“Computer! Turn on the front high beams now!” Jacob bellowed. “Fire everything we’ve got at twelve o’clock.”

Jacob was blinded as the lights shone like a single angelic entity in front of him. He saw nothing, just a blur—just fire and smoke and debris. The blackness returned, and, the phantom was gone. He killed the Golem. His childhood hero. His paycheck.

“Just another day in Paradise.”

Here are some parts of the original story I included in my narrative.

Jacob –Name of Rabbi who built the Golem

Bezalel –Last name of Jacob, the Rabbi

Vltava –Name of the river in which they clay was used to build the Golem.

Golem –An amorphous construction created from clay by Jacob ben Bezalel. He was originally created to protect the jews living in the Ghettos of Prague. This was during the reign of Rudolf II (1575-1612) of the Holy Roman Empire. He rescinded a lot of his father, Emperor Maximillian’s laws. (This is because his mother, Maria of Spain, forced Rudolf and his brother to study with their uncle in Spain. History doesn’t like this woman very much.)

Genizah –Synagogue where the Golem perished and his remains were placed in the attic.

Everything is Awesome for Jason and Medea

Jason and Medea have one of the most fascinating relationships in classic literature. To my knowledge, it is perhaps the first time in Greek literature where the protagonist is more flawed than he is a hero.* It is also a romance with a Beta male and Alpha female. This is something that strikes me as interesting because you don’t see a lot of this type of relationship in classic literature.

Besides being a satire on the classic hero’s tale, The Lego Movie shares plenty of parallels with the story of Jason and Medea. Emmet Brickowski feels strikingly similar to Jason. Both of these two characters aren’t reliable heroes. Often times they rely more on sheer luck or the intervention of others to aid them on their journey.

Wyldstyle, Emmet’s romantic interesting, is very much like Medea. Both of these strong female characters often times pull their respective heroes out of almost certain failure. Both Medea and Wyldstyle are dark characters. Medea uses witchcraft while Wyldstyle is portrayed having a “goth” fashion sense and a gritty attitude.

The Lego Movie goes beyond the simple parallels of the Beta/Alpha relationship. There are many similarities in secondary relationships as well. Where Jason has his Argonauts, Emmet has a group of lego heroes. (Batman being my personal favorite.) who act as his posse and supporters much in the same way that the Argonauts did for Jason. (There’s even a scene where they are sailing in an old school boat that reminds me of the Argo.) Just like in these ancient Greek fables, the heroes that accompanied Emmet were often times more adept than Emmet himself. Which adds to the charm of the movie.

If you go even deeper, you can uncover fundamental similarities within the structure of The Lego Movie story. In the movie the wizard Vitruvius prophesizes to the evil Lord Business that “the Special” will find the Piece of Resistance and put an end to his reign of terror. In The Golden Fleece—Pelias, usurper of Jason’s father’s throne, is told by an Oracle that a stranger wearing only one sandal will overthrow him. After being told these prophesies, both villains go out of their way to try and make sure the prophecy doesn't come to fruition. Lord Business locks up Master Builders and is on the relentless lookout for “the Special.” Pelias fears Jason the moment he sees he’s only wearing one sandal and sends him on an impossible mission.

These are all subjective allusions, based solely on my own understanding of the story. However, the parallels are there. The fact that they are both a hero’s quest immediately puts them into the same category.  There are a lot of other allusions that I didn’t even have time to add because of the word count. Like Mount Olympus and the gods, but a lot of it is there.

As an advertising design major, I can see what I would extract from the Jason/Medea relationship. It would be the Beta male with the Alpha female.

I would, however, leave out all the killing of the children and other more tragic stuff. Sadly, it’s hard to create a Beta/Alpha relationship without some sort of sexist connotation. I find that people often call it the “ball and chain” relationship or the “person who wears the pants.” Those phrases reek of sexism to me. Lazy advertising goes for clichés.

As someone who is going into mass communicating as a career, it’s my job to look past the objectification of women and to create work that propels our cultural narrative in the right direction.

*I don’t know if this is true. It is only the oldest that I know of.

Arabian Nights by Lillian Chestney

The other day I read Arabian Nights by Lillian Chestney. It was pretty damn good! For starters, I found her comic adaption of the stories to be interesting and slightly different from the way I’ve heard the tales of Sinbad, Aladdin, and others princes of this epic.  Lillian’s version was easy to absorb, making the stories more accessible to a larger audience. I think this is important, especially for quintessential classics like 1,001 Arabian Nights.

I picked this title to read because it came out in 1943, which was right in the middle of World War II. Around this time it was clear that the Allies would eventually take Europe and I believe the bloodiest battles of the Pacific were about to start.

It’s interesting to see women like Lillian Chestney take over a job that was largely male dominated, especially adventure stories.

It’s interesting to see a woman’s perspective on these classic tales. Often times, I found that the princess and female heroes played a much more important role in her version then, say Richard Berton’s novel version of the tales.

I wonder if women like Lillian realized how important it was for them to succeed in what they were doing.  Cause if they didn’t prove that they were just as good as men—which at a time oozing with sexism—then they wouldn’t maintain their jobs after the war.

I mean, just look at the advertising of the time. IT’S BLATENTLY SEXEST. Like, not even in a funny way. But that was the pop cult belief at the time. That women were housemaids. Not artists, nor storytellers.

I recommend reading Arabian Nights and I definitely want to check out some of the other works by women that are available on the course webshare. What I’m pumped to read is Saga. We’ve been talking a lot about it in class and it looks fantastic.

My thoughts on Habibi

Recently I read Habibi by Craig Thompson. I’ve been reading a lot of Craig of late—hey, you can never go wrong with Craig—and it’s fascinating content. A lot of my friends who read Graphic Novels on the regular will almost always bring up Craig Thompson at some point in the discussion. Whether it’s about his ability to create seamless flow within his narrative, or the eye candy that is his artwork. People seem to adore him. It’s rather easy to see why.

However, my peers like to toss around sayings like, “Habibi is waaaaayyyyy better.” Or. “No it’s not. Blankets is Craig at his best.” When I hear these things it always strikes me as odd.

You can’t compare these two Graphic Novels and I’m not particularly convinced that one is better than the other. Here’s why:

            Both of these Graphic Novels have great flow and a very cinematic feel to them. But they are covering very different themes. Habibi is a love story and Blankets is more of a confessional coming of age story. I think to say that one is better than the other is a purely objective. (Personally, I enjoyed the themes in Blankets, and I think that Thompson nailed his illustrations in Habibi. Honing the technique he used in Blankets.) They’re both great and have lives of their own. What I’m trying to say is that they stand out, even from each other.

I read somewhere that Craig Thompson thinks it’s completely possible to create 100 pages a year. I find that effing impressive. Look at his art. Especially the detailed patterns you’ll find Habibi. Keep in mind that Habibi and Blankets is roughly 1,300 pages combined. That’s thirteen years of his life. Dayyymmmm.

In terms of narrative, I found Habibi to be a classic love story in a unique Arabian Nights/Modern day Middle Eastern city setting a funky, unique, and fantastic story.  I definitely recommend this Graphic Novel to anyone interested in great storytelling or wonderful art. It’s a heart wrencher and it’s worth the read.

Review of The Desolation of Smaug

This is an older post I never forgot to post and thought it would be appropriate to post so I’m doing just that. Enjoy. 

It’s December, and for some, that means decking the halls with lots of holly. For others, it means wielding ice stalactites like spear, defending oneself from the horde of Christmas carolers.

Plastered to my face as I gorge on overpriced popcorn is a huge, happy, gormless grin. That’s because for me, December means Hobbit season.

I went to the theatre alone, partly because I didn’t want my friends’ laymen understanding of the story to disrupt my popcorn eating and movie watching, but mostly to formulate my own, unbiased opinion on the film.

Like the first Hobbit film, I watched no trailers, read no articles or reviews and sat in my seat completely virgin to Peter Jackson’s rendition of the story. And like the first Hobbit film, I loved it.

Peter Jackson hasn’t let me down. In many ways he is a surgeon, dissecting the episodic nature of The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien, and reconstructing it into the classic three-part trilogy. I explain it to my friends like this —Think of Star Wars, in Return of the Jedi (the first movie), nothing that crucial happens. *Cough, Deathstar, cough* In The Empire Strikes Back, SHIT GOES DOWN. It’s widely considered the best Star Wars film to date. The final movie, A New Hope, has everything resolved and wrapped-up nicely. Classic trilogy.

The Hobbit seems to be going in this direction and I don’t have a problem with it.

As for the story, It’s a decent enough adaption of the book. Although, I think Tolkien would have a thing or two to say about the skittles-vomit color palette. But that’s okay, sprinkle in some lore, a dash of elvish, add one or two giant spiders and let sit for 3 hours.

You need to go into The Hobbit expecting a loose translation of the story, or else you’re setting yourself up for failure.

As long as it’s Tolkienian at heart that’s all that matters. Middle-Earth is grand, teeming with dirt-caked goblins and everlasting elves. But even grand is an understatement. A poet laureate would have a tough time penning Middle-Earth’s beauty. The Hobbit is another 3-hour window into this magical world.