The Need to be a Hero in Chadwick's Concrete Volume 1

Paul Chadwick's Concrete is a competent, complex piece of narrative art that finds the relatable in the ordinary and is ultimately optimistic about the experience of being human. Chadwick takes the idea of Frankenstein's creature and re-purposes the concept for a post-modern sensibility in order to (perhaps) explore his own life by living vicariously through his creation. The greatest idea here that separates Concrete from Shelley's creature is in Concrete's often unwavering positive self-efficacy; his prison is his awakening.

Chadwick notes in his introduction to the volume one collection, compiled by Dark Horse comics starting in 2005, that Concrete is merely "Just one hapless rock-coated fellow, enduring the consequences of my asking the question: what would I do in his shoes?" (p.4). As it is for most writers of fiction, it is no surprise that Chadwick does not hide the idea that he wishes to live vicariously through his character. But what makes Concrete as a character, and an extension of Chadwick's wish fulfillment, that much more interesting is the exploration of someone that would probably be categorized as having some sort of mid-life crisis who wishes to embrace life for the remainder of their time alive. This collection is full of such examples, and it is what gives many of the stories and moments extra weight. I found one of the most interesting ideas presented by Chadwick in this collection is his construction of Concrete's journey for life reflected in our unconscious wanting of heroism.


The Need to be a Hero


In the opening story of the collection, "A Stone among Stones", we are dropped into the life and world of Concrete in medias res. This is a bold choice by Chadwick and speaks volumes about the respect the author shows for the audience in letting the reader begin to make decisions of their own based on some well placed visual clues and secondary narration (in which an incident on a late-night show is mentioned in a talk radio program and is returned to by Chadwick in the origin story entitled "A New Life"). These little subtleties draw the reader into the familiar and comfortable grounds of hero narrative via the concept that a misunderstood alien and or being wants to help mankind and is adored by all. But such simple ideas about what we believe a hero narrative to be about is quickly turned out, as Concrete, who is hiring a personal assistant, let's the interviewee know that "My needs are obvious, Larry. The huge fingers can't type, and I need help with everyday things...driving, getting tickets, and so forth. / This body is an opportunity, too though./ I mean to use it--to mount expeditions to dare great things.../...and earn my way by writing about them. I was a writer before I...came to my present condition" (p.14). The hero, the changed being, is here re-positioned to be the hero novelist/journalist, the Hemmingway or even gonzo Hunter S. Thompson, although minus the drugs and other self-abuses.

The call to perform heroics comes of course convienantley as an actual physical phone call to be a hero within the opening story, as Concrete is asked to rescue miners who have become trapped in an accident across the country in Kentucky. Concete is certain he can save all of their lives,  and his confidence is high in finding two of the minors and getting them out. His heroic swagger leads Concrete to return quickly to the mine to save the others, where he proceeds to self-narrate and even dramatize the events of his attempt as he is in the process of doing it--" Hmmm...Here amid these lifeless minerals, life held on...No, I hoped life held on..."(p.23). But here is the first lesson of what type of hero Concrete is...a fallable and all too human one. He does not get to the other miners as he causes in his haste a cave in onto himself (fig. 1), in which of course dooms the miners to not being rescued in time in another part of the mine. Much like in life, things go wrong, and when they do it is that part of life one must accept, which Concrete does later in stating " Let's have some perspective here.../We did save two lives, the only two we could save. It was worth it, public relations be damned" (p.33).

(fig. 1)

Concrete's need to be hero are indeed more adventurists and literary. In the origin story "A New Life" Chadwick spends three pages (figs. 2, 3, 4) to explain what Concrete has realized his new body really means-- a new chance to chase old dreams. When have we all not wished to go return to the ideas of our youth and take the other avenue into which society prescribed would not entail any real fruit for us? For Concrete. it was to be an adventurer in the vein of explorers and conquerers. Here the artwork blossoms as some of the best and most emotive of this collected volume; the human eyes ( a re-occurring and striking visual motif), the posture of a little boy; the smile of a dreamer and the joy of expressing ones ideas; it's all there in those panels, pages and thought balloons.

(Fig. 2)

(Fig. 3)

(Fig. 4)

This is what defines Chadwick's creature as a hero: it is the bravery to turn life around in an attempt at making the negatives positive. And although it is not always perfect (as life most certainly is not) and can be ego-centric (as that is what we are as creatures), we must be cognizant of the actions that define us so that we may evaluate them in so that we may decide what is the best course of action we can take to make ourselves, and those around us, a little more happy.

All excerpts and images used come from Concrete Volume One: Depths, created by Paul Chadwick and published by Dark Horse books, a division of Dark Horse Comics. 

Accosting Random People, Retention and Anthologies

So, it is not a stretch for me to say that I am socially inept. This deficiency is not helped by my capricious nature to do random things...say like approaching people I have never met, who may very well be nice people that if approached differently may actually be people that I could have some sort of casual acquaintance nice-ness thing with (brunch, afternoon coffee, book clubs, you know, nice shit like that), but instead I bungle by following my gut instincts to look like as big an asshole as possible.

   Yesterday in following these impeccable instincts for ass-holery, I decided to ask random people on the street if they were feeling "coggy". Now this brilliant idea came about in my head after yet another lovely bout of tweeting with my virtual pal Babs, whom I adore and is in no way responsible for these behaviors (although I do like telling her about them), and I figured its a random weekday and I get bored easy so why not have a round of impromptu lets annoy complete strangers because nothing bad can ever happen with that, right? Thankfully no violence followed in my random polling of the everyman/woman I encountered while going for walks on the campus quad. I do have enough instinct to know that if I pushed that theory, I would probably at some point be accosted or at the very least insulted verily.

  I really do engage in such things because I do have a genuine curiosity of what people think about random things. Plus, sometimes, people really want to just talk to someone, anyone. It's lonely out there sometimes folks. Talking to strangers can pass the time. While it was for a giggle, and none gave me a real answer out of a combination of confusion/annoyance, if I had kept at it, I am sure someone would have stopped and given a great, curious, thoughtful answer.

___________________

How long is your attention span? Have you ever really seriously thought about it? ( Wow, this sounds like an info-mercial all of a sudden).Recently I have become quite obsessed with it in regards to retention and developing new patterns that allow for better learning. Now I'm not invested enough to actually apply it to something like my dissertation data/research, but I am fascinated with it solely on a personal level. This last week, I have spent time taking a variety of  "cognitive" skills (reading, writing, drawing/sketching) and attempted to break them into various increments in no particular order. I have to say that in doing so, it has lowered my stress levels considerably, as my self-efficacy shoots through the roof by attaining short term goals. Even allotting time to write this blog this morning is part of this function. I guess I don't have any real success to tout with this, but when you are trained and pressured to concentrate on one task at a time in learning ( read the entire novel in a sitting, write the bulk of a paper in a few hours, etc.), I am beginning to see that I feel I am learning more effectively by broadening the amount of info I am taking in not only in a period of time, but also the types in a day. Perhaps variety, even on a daily and small way, is the spice of life (and learning).

With variety in mind, as I was picking up my comics this week, I decided to pick up two anthologies. First, Dark Horse Presents #2:

  As I get older, I realize that the power of the short, sharp, and well crafted story is very appealing. In teaching literature/writing, I have found that students prefer often to discuss the shorter works rather than the longer ones (although, that does not excuse them from the reading of longer works!). This is not laziness necessarily, but research in teaching and learning indicates that student retention is decreased due to the amount of information that they consume in a day via multi-media. Also, the way we have taught almost two generations of readers in the American public education system has continued to be in truncated ways, compounded with large amounts of information that is mostly skill and drill with standardized testing as the driving force. But that is another argument for another time.

  While American culture has continued to move away from the traditional novel as a favorite form of reading, it has a continuing love affair with the compact story in a variety of mediums; our 22 minute tv shows, 11 minute animations, flash videos, etc. While comic books that are published monthly are indeed short form, they have been constructed in the last two decades to be event and continuity driven, making it difficult and expensive to get into the mythology (Although DC comics is starting their universe "over again" in September to attract new readers put off by the aforementioned reasons). Originally, comics were created for anyone to pick up at anytime and be able to follow the events. Some "one-and-done" monthlies have found a way into the market (Jonah Hex by Palmotti and Gray for example), but they are few and far between. However, there has been indications of a return to the accessibility of comic stories through anthologies.

   The comics anthology, when put together well, provides readers with the technical and narrative capabilities of telling entertaining and eye-catching stories. While DHP #2 provides more abstract, multiple stories and ideas( very heavy on the sci-fi, if that is your thing), the anthology of Rocketeer Adventures #2 focuses on how different writers and artists are able to take one character and the universe that character inhabits and show multiple adventures in one issue.

  Now the drawback here of course is that you have to be into WWII rock'em sock'em adventure homage. In essence, Rocketeer Adventures is an anthologized love letter to a time, character, and creator (the highly regarded Dave Stevens, who passed away recently).




  In fact, there is such a devotion to the character and the time period, here is an example of a really fun animated fan film that was posted.




The Rocketeer 20th anniversary from John Banana on Vimeo.


  If you are more into the traditional hero set, however, there is the gorgeous DC comics collection from a few years ago titled Wednesday Comics. This loving tribute to the Sunday newspaper style of old, the introduction to long standing characters (and some rarely used ones) is in fine form here fro anyone and a range of ages. This is a pricey set, but in my humble opinion it is worth it.



So give the comic anthology a chance. You might just be surprised.

   The Coen brothers chronological film fest rolls on with a film we were not able to get in last weekend, The Ladykillers. I will of course tweet the time @jldprod2002, and will have a follow up here at the blog, in which as always please feel free to watch the film at your leisure and discuss here or on the post of my review, which should be up soon.

Cruelty and Oreo goes hand in hand

Whew! I shouldn't feel winded but yet, after watching the film Intolerable Cruelty as part of our foray into the Coen bros. film canon via chronology, I felt as if I had run a marathon; a long winded, ever extending cramp-hydrate-cramp-shit yourself-push on through marathon. Of course this was not helped in the slightest by the fact that for some reason while watching this film I had a craving I had not felt since......[dramatic turn as my cape flows behind me and John Williams continues to underscore my life]

Cravings are one of the strangest experiences of being human. You spend a large portion of your adult life building up tolerances against most of the cravings in your life. Perhaps this may stem from repressed Catholic guilt (yes); perhaps this may be more of a fat kid-to-thin-kid existential struggle that only ends in tragedy (likely); perhaps it can even be something sexual?!? (if so, please consult a physician). And the hardest cravings are sugar related. Wonderful sugar related bliss inducing cravings.

So, as I was enduring Intolerable Cruelty the only way I could counter balance my feelings to turn off the film (and it was tough, very, very tough) I compensated with the indulgence of an old friend. I paused the film and went to go get a pack of Oreo at the store. Those unfamiliar with this wonderful cookie devil product should google right away (it's alright, I'll wait for you...go ahead, I have things to read....). Got it? Yes, as you can see just by product description that in engaging with the Oreo cookie your day and/or night will be instantly ruined. But damn it, I needed something to get me through the film!

So maybe I am being a little rough on Intolerable Cruelty. Its just so odd in the chronological order of the Coen's film life. This story about divorce and emotions had the opportunity to be the Coen's first foray into social commentary with a wonderfully dark, satiric, biting slant on our inter and intra personal relationships. Instead, we get  a romantic comedy that they try to apply their sensibilities towards, and smattering of fantastic dialogue here and there are the only indications that this is a Coen film-- No dynamic camera, no eccentric character performances, and probably some of the most awkward music for a film ever. I always like to see artists take chances, but this wasn't taking a chance, it was trying to fit a square piece in a round hole, and the forced nature of it shows horribly.

So perhaps in the end, the Oreo was necessary to teach me a lesson that if I am going to torture myself, I need to always do so in full mind,body, and spirit. Let's just not make a habit of it, shall we? Okay-dokey.

As always, if you feel like taking the plunge, please leave comments to me about it on twitter @jldprod2002 or here at the blog. I will post about the next film soon, as it may not come this upcoming weekend due to schedules and what not.

Why "Criminal" Kicks in the Door & Re-Evaluating Reading Habits

So, albeit two weeks late, my copy of writer Ed Brubaker and artist Sean Phillips new Criminal mini-series The Last of the Innocent finally arrived. 













With the weight of Incognito: Bad Influences still having me feel like I missed something (at which I will at some point later this year go back and read again), there was a part of me that was slightly hesitant to return to the world of Criminal. However, with my weakness for tough guys, schmoes, dames, and people always in danger ( see my current Coen brothers film fest entries...correlation perhaps??), it was just too hard to say no to another slice of noir-ish peanut butter and chocolate.

While this volume of the series  does have all those attributes mentioned, it is the theme of  never being able to go home again that resonates the hardest in this issue. Much like Teeg Lawless in The Dead and The Dying,  Riley Richards has a heavy sense of hopelessness. With an ill father, woman issues, and an embarrassment of vices which have put him in an uncomfortable spot, Riley is the archetype of a Brubaker protagonist, but it is the physical location of the town Brookview that is the star. Brookview is the image of an America that no longer exists ( as Riley states, " Feels like it's always raining in the city, but of course its sunny here. Hell, I can barely remember a day when it wasn't), with the present slowly corroding the edges.

The present is past, as1982 is the year of this chapter, and the parallels to the combustible Regean-era America is very subtle here through small visual indications ( one in particular is of some punks in the diner at an impromptu reunion). Riley remembers a Brookview that is straight out of an Archie comic, and Sean Philips does an amazing homage by giving us flashbacks in that style. As I am not into spoilers, I wont say anything else about this issue, but it has perhaps one of the finest final scenes and lines in quite some time. Let's hope #2 gets here on time! **Oh, and the final essay by Brubaker in this issue is lovely**

Part of my dwindling coursework ( which should be done for good next spring) deals with studying brain based, or cognitive, learning. In keeping with my insistence on testing the various theories in my coursework, I am starting a new reading regiment. Basically, I am adding more holistic based methods (themes, cognitive mapping), and I will go about breaking up more reading into smaller increments, i.e. one hour of theory, thirty minutes of classical literature, two hours of pdf files, etc. We shall see how it rolls.....

This week, the Coen brothers 2011 fest continues with the most polarizing films of the canon, Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers. After much debate, it was decided that folks should watch these two at some point by Sunday at their leisure, as we are, to a degree, selling the potential of these films short based on memory. [shrugs] Maybe we are wrong, but we are going to find out. Feel free to join in with comments about these films via twitter @jldprod2002 or here at the blog.

Black and White Surprises & Morrison's Superman

Last night our Coen bros. chronological film festival continued with "The Man who Wasn't There". I had only seen the movie once when it had been released on dvd back in 2001-2002, so I was prepared to either be pleasantly surprised or abysmally confounded. In viewing the films in the manner in which we have (chronologically), I have noticed a pattern these artists have of going up and down from film to film with the creative and narrative content of these films, really seeming to follow sensibilities that do tie closely to some aspects of genre but ultimately end in being a hit or miss by choice, not by meddling from others.

So keeping that in mind, I was ready for either awe or disappointment. Which Coen bros. film would show up? Or would it be something completely different? Well, this film is something completely different while maintaining certain narrative trappings that help them to construct these stories. Do we have a shmuck or shmoe who is potentially a patsy but yet is a protagonist? Check. Do we have a everyday, regular life context to spill into the fantastic, giving us a sense of that when life gets shaken up out of our routines that strange shit happens? Check. Is there bribery or reward involved. And check again. So everything is in place- The Schmuck living a regular life who gets involved too deep. Classic.

While this formula continues to work for the Coens, for this film they put a spin on it. By tinkering with the ideas of pop philosophy and psychology centering around the idea of existence (some would say existentialism, some would argue for the gestalt debate) of the post WWII era that began in Barton Fink, the Coens hit stride with the idea that to be an independent thinker is to be alone. While Barton Fink is a one trick pony of a writer who has used up his one idea, Crane the Barber (played by a tremendous Billy Bob Thornton) has been introspectively keeping to himself his whole life, watching and listening to the world. When we meet him, it seems as if it is the right time to move on his impulses that he has forsaken his whole life. These impulses ( taking a chance on opportunity, righting wrongs, etc.) initially seem to betray him when he tries to blackmail his wifes boss/lover and is put in a precarious spot. But even with the mistake of what happen (I'm not into spoilers, sorry) he does try to correct it on a karmic level constantly. But the rest of the world does not seem to understand, and even Crane the Barber seems to struggle with it as well.

"The Man Who Wasn't There" is also a cinematographic black and white wonder. I watched the film in HD via streaming and the picture quality was absolutely breathtaking. Roger Deakins scores for the brothers time and time again as director of photography (having come on board for Barton Fink), and this could very well be considered on level with the wide lens Kubrick-esqe flurishes of his heist film "The Killing". This film demands a re-watch simply to just soak in the lighting and atmosphere that are created. It is also of note that this film continues the Coens playing with film making in technical ways that began with "The Big Lebowski", e.g. how the camera moves, framing, subtle digital effects and of course lighting. Each film since Lebowski up to this point have had little tweeks in those areas. With this, the 9th film of the canon, the Coens are still taking chances, and it is very much worth the ride. Feel free to watch the film and tweet me about it @jldprod2002 or just comment here at the blog.

In a previous post this week I talked about the DC comics re-boot and my reactions to it. Yesterday, DC revealed the final four new titles centering around Superman. The biggest of those announcements was that comic scribe superstar Grant Morrison, whom many consider to have already written one of the greatest Superman stories ever (All-Star Superman), and has kept the Batman franchise vital in the last decade, would be writing for the grand daddy original flagship- Action Comics #1. This announcement puts fanboys and girls in the precarious position of having a very large question finally answered- Can Morrison work magic on someone like Superman like he has on Batman? All-Star allowed Morrison to work outside of continuity to create a unique and loving space, but here he will be presented with a launching that we will for now assume have continuity placed upon it.

Action Comics #1(probably not final art)

But lets pause here for a moment. The previous statement about continuity is an assumption, and one of many this week not only by me but by others. What if DC is not that concerned with continuity any more? What if this is the beginning of some really great isolated stories that many fans have called for over the years after suffering supposed "event fatigue" and convoluted re-boots? This is the most interesting thing about what DC is doing--we have no idea how this is going to roll. And to this comics fan, that is a very exciting prospect.

So will Morrison work on Superman? It will take three to four issues, but by the end of the year we shall see.

Next week, we have a double feature planned for the Coen- fest 2011 with "Intolerable Cruelty" and "The LadyKillers", two films that are sure to be perplexing and polarizing. I will tweet the times for these films on Friday and Saturday, and should have commentary on the blog on Sunday barring injury.

Its All About The Story

Note: There have already been an overwhelming response to the DC comics announcement online...this is but another small one from someone who loves those books :)

I love a good story. Its why I love teaching English literature and reading strategies. My favorite types of stories, however, occur in monthly comics. Now I love a good Pynchon post-modern story, or an investigation of the human foibles constructed by a Hawthorne or Twain. But when a mix of incredible art work with a riveting story occurs in between the pages of that floppy, glossy folio, a child like excitement comes over to me to such a degree that I literally regress to that young boy who picked up his first comic, a Batman: Annual, on the rack of the Piggly Wiggly in my small southern hometown while hanging under the skirt of my mother as she waited patiently in the checkout line. Those beautiful books are magic--pure, simple, engrossing magic.

And those stories, the ones inside those magic books, have followed me to now. I'm older, a tad wiser, but still in love with those great stories. My own passions in life have led me to explore the art of stories: what are they, what do they mean to us, what allows them to ruffle our emotions? I am fortunate to be able to have conversations with a diverse body of persons both young and old, educated or full of imagination (or both), about the relational/contextual aspects of narratives to the individual. The stories that we love to a certain degree love us back because we share a living textual experience with them. Its a relationship; perhaps even a marriage of sorts.

So its understandable that from time to time our favorite stories need to go through a change. Society changes, we change--nothing is static forever, nor should it be.  This change is upsetting, like being in an intense relationship and then it suddenly ending because one realizes something has to give because growth is needed. While we may not connect again with those same stories and characters because you can never really go back again, change is an exciting time. And after a little while being enmeshed in that change, you reflect on that time and think about the good times-- the ones that made you happy, or sad, or elicited some type of emotion and made you call a friend and say "Did you read this?!?!". Its a great feeling. And it will continue.

So as DC comics makes massive changes its fine to be angry. Good. That is natural. You are angry that something that you love is changing and you are still the same person. Its not you, its them. But that is fine too. Love the memories and the special stories that now exist because you went through that period in your life. But also be able to embrace the new and move on. Your own development and change is just as important. But fear not boys and girls, you can always open your closet, or look on your bookshelf, or open up your comics app (wow, technology is really cool!) and visit those memories anytime you want. Those stories will still be there, and the new ones will be waiting for you to at least give them a chance. And that really makes me smile.

Because It Was Bound To Happen Some Time

Let me explain something about small town life in the bible belt of the southeastern United States. It is a very, well, um, conservative place, populated by god fearing folks who work hard and want to raise families and do the best they can sometimes, even if that entails being close minded and only open to  societal norms. While I have always been a fish out of water being raised here, and surrounded by a few  scant friends of like-mindedness, I always gravitated towards music and the arts to keep me optimistic. But alas, to be exposed to art one had to always travel out of town, at a minimum a little over an hour by interstate, although the real interesting stuff always was at least three hours away in either direction ( Mobile to the south; Memphis to the northwest; Nashville to the North; Atlanta to the East). Concert attendance required massive planning, money, reliable transport and always at least three friends to split costs.

So when my hometown announced they were building an outdoor venue to hosts concerts and events a few years ago, I was skeptical. I was sure the best I could hope for was pop country acts and revival tours with the likes of The Temptations featuring the one last remaining temptation--just real depressing shit. And so far, in its first season, that has been true (pop country act wise).

But today there was light. Today the paper confirmed one of my favorite bands of the last decade, an influential band, was coming to my hometown to play a show in August. No road trip necessary, no hotel accommodations, no parking headache-- nothing required but me driving about ten minutes from my house to the show. While it may be an anomaly, it is an anomaly I will take and always appreciate. Here is hoping to more pleasant surprises.

Taking a Deep Breath

I have for some reason in the last few weeks begun to feel really stressed out. In order to combat this I have tried changing my diet, adding an extra hour to my workouts, ceasing certain activities, increasing others. Basically, I have been testing through variables to isolate whatever has crept into my subconsciousness and decided to derail the train that had been running so smoothly.

I'm afraid, however, it would be somewhat delusional on my part to say that the train itself wasn't breaking down internally. As I have been poking and proding myself both physically and mentally the stress fractures have become fairly clear. Years of self-abuse have caught up to a man in his mid thirties. I have worked hard to get myself into the best mental and physical shape possible to deal with the doctoral track meet that is my working life for over two years now, but I fear the bad behavior I submitted my body to for over a decade is, in a cliched way, coming back to haunt me. This does not deter me from keeping the better habits I have acquired in the last few years, e.g. running, not smoking, nutritional standards, lots of water, etc.; but something is chemically not right upstairs.

Brain-based education is a field in my discipline that examines the neurological, physiological, and psychological aspects of how and why we learn. While epistemology is a main focus for me in this area, our discussion ( I am taking a class in BBE) of the need for chemical balance in the brain alerted me to the possible problems I am feeling. The dance of the chemicals inside our head is delicate, and I believe that when I have kept it in a massive imbalance, it has not seemed apparent that there was a problem. It is in righting the ship and trying to get back to a fair balance that the funkiness is perhaps occurring, a sort of the closer to neutral I get the more awful I feel because it is not the norm I established for my little special chemical processes. Thinking about this frankly scares the shit out of me. But it is what it is. I have to deal with it.

Why Memory Can Fail You

Memory is a strange and wonderful thing especially in regards to how one places sentimental attachment to the context, environment or even people that you experience an event with ( Avatar people pay attention!). Films and television are especially a strange ground for memory for the simple fact that we have such strong ties to these stories we experience either individually or communally.

So last night we watched "O Brother Where Art Thou?"in our Coen bros. chronology fest, and based on chronology it was by far the worst film the Coens had made up to that point ( I believe it was made in 2000). This was a surprise to me and the few others who joined in ( shame if you did not) because the main conversation that was had afterwards was how much we had all liked the film years ago or upon the first time we saw it at the movies. So what happened?......

The film has a quite heavy, bloated, and dogged middle, help up by a less than dynamic first and last acts. This is compounded by the fact that this is an attempted musical, and note that I said an attempted musical. The strung together musical adventure, touched on in Lebowski in a more hallucinogenic and episodic nature (to a much greater effect), was something that the Coens seemed to be working towards for quite some time, as they had grown more sophisticated with the integration of existing music into film as a type of added layer to the existing narrative, both through sight and sound.

So, we all liked this film originally. Why? It would seem we were seduced by the bluegrass. Having had little exposure to it at that time, I can safely say in reflection that indeed, yes, the soundtrack was fresh enough at the time of first viewing to cloud my better film judgement, which apparently was the consensus amongst most. I mean, bluegrass...who knew ( and I am from the south!).

(SIGH) So "O Brother" is a fail. A big cinematographic beautifully lit yet poorly structured fail. Proceed with caution on your viewing. Up next weekend, we move on to "The Man Who Wasn't There". Feel free to join the fun by giving me a tweet @jldprod2002 or here at the blog.

Adventures in the geek-o-blog-a tweet-averse

May felt very, very long. Granted we (as in this community and state) started the month having survived an epic natural disaster, so thing did not exactly get off to a great start. I'm still sorting my feelings out, as every time I travel into town I am still shocked to find things that are not there that my brain was conditioned to see. Time, time, time--it will just take time. But I am not mentioning this in a dark way, or even a depressed way, its just that I feel like it is good to mention and discuss that it happened because sometimes denial hinders recovery.

Over on the more comfy geeky side of my brain, DC comics announced a huge re-launch of its entire universe come August 31st  http://dcu.blog.dccomics.com/2011/06/01/a-note-from-the-dc-comics-co-publishers-we-hate-secrets/ and has basically sent the geek-o-blog-a tweet-averse on fire with something akin to a negative bloodlust. (SIGH). And I hate that negative ranting. Yes, opinion is the right of the individual, I appreciate  a good opinion. But there are people (and people who write blogs and articles) who do nothing but discuss the negatives of a medium that only looks to entertain and perhaps make someone's week a little more tolerable. I know comics have along way to go with representations of diversity, image, and equality, but they will get there as the writers, artists, and editors continue to learn more about how to go about doing it. When you rush to diversify without understanding what that entails, thats when stereotypes and other horrific slaps in the face happen to various cultures and groups.

Its the weekend, so its time for the Coen Bros. chronological film festival to continue! This weekend, its "O Brother, Where Art Thou?". So if you have some Wash kin to get together with, gather up and feel free to post your comments to me on twtter @jldprod2002 or just in the comments section of this here bloggin place. My thoughts on the film will be posted soon, probably along with some other non-sensical rants of some type.