BRAIN DRAIN

Last of Three Parts: The Souvenir

This is the story of the one souvenir I got for myself from the 2008 NY Comic Con. But first, a picture:

That right there is as close as I got to meeting Geoff Johns and asking for his autograph. When I found his table in the center of the show floor’s “Artist Alley”, he was already beseiged by a large number of fans, shaking hands, making conversation and patiently signing some of their comics. And boy was I jealous! See, I didn’t have anything on me for him to sign — I’ve already transferred most of my comics back home — and the one title of his I recently bought — the Infinite Crisis trade — was lying peacefully on my apartment shelf.

I began to wonder whether I should bother buying a comic — any comic — just to score an autograph. That brought about another idea: why don’t I first look up who else was around, so I know whom to line up for. Yet one more thought: if I were to get someone’s autograph, whose would I really, really want? Jim Lee was supposed to be there. I heard that Neil Gaiman and Mike Mignola were, too, though I was willing to bet the lines for them would be absurdly long. Yet as much as I love these guys, there was really just one name at the top of the list:

Darwyn Cooke.

Of all the comics I’ve picked up in the past three years, DC: The New Frontier is the one I’ve enjoyed the most. It’s just a fantastic piece of storytelling and artwork, and to my mind exemplifies everything I look for in a comic. As a consequence, I am convinced that Darwyn Cooke is absolutely brilliant.

So I looked him up and found his table.

He wasn’t there.

Disappointing to be sure, but it’s not like I had anything for him to sign, either. My copies of the New Frontier trades were in Manila, and the animated adaptation I’d purchased the week before was likewise on my shelf beside that copy of Infinite Crisis. “Oh well,” I thought to myself on my way to continue my rounds about the exhibition floor.

Yet I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. What better souvenir than a signed comic book? The artists were around, and the retailers in attendance were offering discounts like nobody’s business. Hence, I began scouring the shelves looking for something I wouldn’t mind adding to my collection and worth getting autographed. This wasn’t as easy as it sounded: there were simply too many titles to choose from, each being measured against the yardstick of whether I was willing to spend for it.

Pressed for time, I made the following decision: I’d spend for a hardcover version of Darwyn Cooke’s Batman: Ego and Other Tales on the off chance he’d still be in the building for signings. If he was, well and good. If not, at least I end up with this collection of his Batman stories that I didn’t have before.

I pulled it off one of the store’s shelves and paid for it, then made my way back to the Artist Alley to try my luck.

He was there, a line of fans quickly forming in front of his table. Practically every one of them brought their prized copies of New Frontier for him to sign, making me momentarily the only person in line with a different comic in tow. To some degree, this made me sad because I would have also wanted to have my New Frontier books signed, too. But we play with the cards we’re dealt, and before I knew it I was next in line.

He was a real pro. He took my copy, flipped it open to the first page and pulled out a silver tipped pen in order to write on the dark colored paper. He scribbled his trademark signature then began to draw on the page, adding a little doodle of the Dark Knight just for good measure. “Here you go!” he said as he handed the now autographed book back to me, a friendly smile on his face. I was beside myself with delight and excitement that it was all I could do to say thank you, which he acknowledged with a gracious nod.

Thus, I was probably the happiest person to leave the Javits Center that Saturday.

And that’s how an autographed Darwyn Cooke comic became my souvenir from the 2008 NY Comic Con.

(Previously: Impressions and Random Pictures)

Second of Three Parts: Random Pictures

Alas, I didn’t have a right and proper camera with me at the Comic Con — not that I’m any good as a photographer — so I had to settle for using the one built into my celphone. As a result, the pictures below tend to be a bit dodgy (I had a few more, but they weren’t much better) but they’re good enough for a meager post by way of photoblogging.

Manhattan’s Jacob Javits Center is a pretty big place, so the Comic Con had multiple entrances, all of which were decked out as above. I couldn’t find a vantage point from which I could take a shot of the show floor for some perspective, but the lights in this picture should give some indication of the size of the exhibition area.

Even before entering the show floor there were comic book paraphernalia around. Naturally, these were popular for the token souvenir photo, especially the life-size superhero statues such as Batman’s (see below; there was also one of the Man of Steel, but it wasn’t nearly as awesome).

One thing I did expect to see were people dressed up as Jedi or Stormtroopers or any number of Star Wars characters (I’m pretty sure there was a Wookie or two in attendance as well). So none of that surprised me. But I was quite impressed by these detailed statues of Yoda and Princess Leia.

Sure, they might not look like anything special (especially that blurry photo), but I happen to like mock-ups of cartoon characters, especially when they’re done this well.

Previously, I mentioned that there were a few video game companies present in full force. Naturally, this created many opportunities for cross-promotion, such as the way that Konami was drumming up publicity for their new Hellboy game, The Science of Evil. Others, were there just to sell video-game related paraphernalia, such as Square-Enix.

While I’m aware that the above are probably the worst photos in the history of bad photos, there was no way to get a shot of the entire Konami booth without a wide-angle lens. As for the Squeenix booth, this is what their booth looked like from the side. The decor was very minimal, and their display of Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts figurines (among others) ended up buried behind throngs of onlooking fans. All the same, I’m sure my brother would’ve loved to have been there to check out the Squeenix offerings for himself.

Speaking of things my brother missed out on, there was a significant amount of anime and manga at the convention. Indeed, if there was one booth he would’ve wanted to browse through had he been around, I’m guessing it would have been Tokyopop’s.

It should be noted that Viz Media was also around, but I didn’t have the time to check out their manga lounge.

Still, there was no denying that mainstream Western comics took center stage at the convention, especially because it offered the opportunity for fans to meet some of their favorite artists and writers . Going once around the show floor I managed to see quite a few, such as…

…Mark Texiera, whom I remember for his work on Ghost Rider…

…Inker Scott Hanna…

…John Romita Sr. and Jr, here pictured during a signing event at the Marvel booth (the line for which was impossibly long!)…

…Tom Raney (at least I think this is Tom Raney)…

…Steve Epting…

…and Mark Buckingham, although this is as close as I ever came to meeting the guy. In fact, for a brief moment I contemplated swiping the handwritten note on the premise that he had written it…but that wouldn’t be right, would it?

And yes, because the NY Comic Con is a big deal among fan circles, it enjoyed extensive coverage from the usual industry news outfits.

Of course, collectors of all persuasions had much to look forward to in the form of comics, comics and more comics!

Naturally, there were huge discounts to be had all over. What’s more, some bargain stalls were selling really old comics for dimes, by far the cheapest deals in town.

Sure, some of the merchandise available for purchase had very little to do with comics (Webkinz?), but at least it ensured that even kids not entirely sold on comics could look forward to something. As for older patrons, there was no shortage of things to vie for their attention. Take for instance the exhibition staff: interestingly, a lot of those working the show floors for the organizers were actually volunteers, many of whom traipsed about dressed in some costume or other. This brings me to the final photo of this post, and the tongue-in-cheek remark I can’t resist to make:

Princess Leia’s slave girl outfit. Teasing adolescent fantasies since 1983.

‘Nuff said.

(Previously: Impressions. Next: The Souvenir)

First of Three Parts: Impressions

This past April 18-20, 2008, the Jacob Javits Center hosted the 2008 New York Comic Con, one of the largest comic book conventions in the United States. For once, I found myself without any excuse not to go, so I jumped at the chance to check it out. It certainly lived up to my expectations — then exceeded them.

Upon arriving at the convention center I already knew it was going to be quite the spectacle. Comic book enthusiasts were there in droves, some literally dressed for the occasion as their favorite character, most bubbling with excitement at what “schwag” and freebies lay ahead of them. This was just at the entrance, with long lines of eager attendees waiting patiently and politely to pick up their tickets. Fortunately, I decided to purchase my ticket (good for all of Saturday) beforehand at Midtown Comics, and thus made my way through to the exhibition floor without a care in the world.

It goes without saying that the sight before me was everything a comic book aficionado could hope for, whether casual collector or die-hard fan. Rows upon rows upon columns upon aisles of booths, all of which showcased something — anything! — related to comics. Marvel and DC were there, side by side with independent and smaller publishers. Retailers in attendance displayed signs prominently advertising huge discounts on their wares. There were “boutique stalls” selling rare comics from the Golden and Silver Ages that nostalgic completists may be willing to die for, not to mention merchandisers peddling figurines, t-shirts and all manner of paraphernalia so fans could go home awash in nifty souvenirs. And yes, there were a couple of video game studios and collectible card game companies in attendance, too, showcasing their latest offerings and giving passersby free reign to try them out.

There was no shortage of things to do either, and I’m not talking about the requisite shopping involved or the organized group photo opportunity for all Jedi in attendance (for real). Throughout each day there were any number of film showings, panel discussions or promotional appearances going on, certainly enough to whet any fan’s appetite. More importantly, there were chances aplenty to meet the legends and rising stars of the industry. In the three-odd hours I was there I couldn’t believe the personalities I espied in attendance. Mark Buckingham. Darwin Cooke. Geoff Johns. John Romita (both father and son). Jim Steranko. Gail Simone. Steve Epting. The list goes on and on.

I think what I will always remember from this experience is how it made me feel like I did when I discovered comic books for the first time. Sure, I’ve never gone out on a limb to attend a convention before (the opportunity hardly ever presenting itself back home), but something really was in the air that captured the excitement I remember from when I started getting interested in comics, losing myself in the colored panels and letting my imagination take off. In this I was just another face in the crowd, but one in which I felt quite at home, lightsabers, capes and cowls notwithstanding. In retrospect this is perhaps what such conventions are truly about: giving people a chance to celebrate their shared interest — if only for a day or two — and experience the joy of discovering those colored panels for the very first time, again and again.

(Next: Random Pictures)

Three years, sixty credits, a Master’s Degree and four doctoral comprehensive exams later, I am now officially one of the many graduate students around the world who fall under the category of “all but dissertation” (ABD).

It’s not such a bad place to be, as it is for all intents and purposes the penultimate stage to getting one’s doctorate. And from my standpoint it goes to show that everything thus far is still going according to plan. Now more than ever, the light at the end of the tunnel burns brightly, and all that remains to surmount this final hurdle is to dig in deeper and trudge on.

I will. But for now, at least, I will be content to take in the moment and enjoy it.

The street on which I live in the Big Apple happens to be the UPS staging area for deliveries in our neighborhood. Every day there are one or two of their trucks parked on the street, usually with the compartment doors open and a delivery person scurrying about seeing the many packages off to their destinations. In fact, the presence of the folks in brown is such a part of day to day life in these parts that most of us who reside here already know our usual delivery lady, often popping our heads into her truck just to ask if a package we’re expecting is already on hand.

I never gave much thought to how familiar we’ve become with the UPS people until I came home after doing some errands the other day to find a note posted on our building door.

On closer inspection:

Notwithstanding my tendency to misplace my keys, the message wasn’t meant for me. Still, it’s oddly comforting to know that if I ever do lose them at least one other person can be trusted to return them should they be found. Something tells me that there’s a great advert for door-to-door delivery here just waiting to be made.

This one’s been making the rounds on the interweb for quite some time now, so I might as well jump on the bandwagon (albeit belatedly):

Garfield Minus Garfield is a novel if not unusual take on Jim Davis’ trademark feline. The premise: the real star of the comic strip is not Garfield but his owner John. And how to make this point? By taking your usual Garfield comic and editing out the titular fat cat.

This is perhaps best articulated by the site’s unnamed author:

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb.

Having grown up reading Garfield, I must say that this does cast the comic in an entirely new light, albeit in a bizarrely twisted and occasionally sad sort of way. While some of the resulting comic strips are hit-or-miss in the humor department, they are nonetheless worth checking out.

This is what it’s like being Captain Bluebear:

You find yourself adrift off the continent of Zamonia, rescued and raised by a band of mini-pirates, later abandoned on an island of Hobgoblins and thereafter fighting for dear survival on a carnivorous island. You’ll make a good friend in a pterodactyl and erstwhile patrolling Reptilian Rescuer. You end up enrolled under the tutelage of a Nocturnomath with seven brains, who will in embed an entire encyclopedia in your mind. When not running for dear life from a giant spider or traveling through dimensions or across deserts your travels leave you trapped in a tornado, if not somewhere between a Bollog’s head with the best bad idea you’ve ever met. Once freed, you make your way to the island of Atlantis (which isn’t really an island), making a name for yourself as one of the city’s greatest liars. In the end, it’s also possible you’ll find yourself unraveling the secrets to a mysterious ship, which so happens to contain the deadliest substance in the universe.

Obviously it’s a rough kind of life, which is why it’s good to have twenty-seven of them to spare. Better still if half of them are spent enduring all these. This much Walter Moers would have readers believe in his clever book, The 13½ Lives of Captain Bluebear.

Succinctly, it is a fairytale that will appeal to the child in every adult. As such, it is clearly not something that will appeal to some readers in and of itself, what with its necessarily over-the-top plot, childish illustrations (by the author himself, no less), and occasionally excessive narrative (particularly towards the end, where the prose seems to go on and on without end!). Yet taken for what it is, there is plenty of good clean fun to be had in Captain Bluebear. It is escapist entertainment, but of that rare variety where “whimsical flight of fancy” and “excellent diversion” meet to make for an enjoyable reading experience.

It would seem that Mike Kunkel has been at it again.

Previously, the talented animator became a serious contender for “best dad ever” through his “Kids in the Class” project. But this doting father apparently has been doing much more to make his kids’ trips to school extra special. These past few years, it turns out, he’s been doodling on his son’s and daughter’s brown paper bags each time his turn would come around to prepare their lunches. If it were anyone else this might not seem out of the ordinary; but this is Mike Kunkel we’re talking about, so it’s easy to imagine how amusing those illustrations must have been.

True enough, the lunchbags became a big hit at the school among teachers and students alike, so much so that he’s decided to collect his favorite ones in a book and showcase the actual ones at a few art galleries. Mike explains it better himself, and one can only hope that the blog he’s set up will show them off at some point because these lunchbags are just too cool for school.

[Read: What are Lunchbags? (via Mike Kunkel's Lunchbags)]

A recent piece by one Bob Harris on Papercuts, the New York Times’ blog about books, examines the curious lingo surrounding book reviews.

The article surveys the “seven deadly words of book reviewing” — those words that, for some reason or another, “crop up in book reviews with wearying regularity”. As one who dabbles in modest reviews myself, I found the list thoroughly educational, if only to be reminded that the desire to write something thoughtful can sometimes result in stringing together words that are otherwise obtuse.

[Read: The Seven Deadly Words of Book Reviewing (Bob Harris via Papercuts)]

Just a little Star Wars humor for fellow geeks out there.

The ad* belongs to the marketing collateral SpikeTV used to drum up viewership for their Star Wars weekend marathon. The above particularly caught my attention because of the in-joke. It makes a strange amount of sense, doesn’t it?

*The image is just a screenshot from the channel’s website as I couldn’t find a digital copy of the actual poster I’ve seen around town. But it’s practically the same thing.