Thursday, July 14, 2005

Trapped in the Closet, The League bears witness

So...

Remember the dude who teamed with Michael Jordan and the Looney Tunes gang to teach a whole generation he could fly (or was it them? I can't recall...)? Just who was that man singing that inspirationally treacly tune?

R.Kelly. That's who. The film: Space Jam. Yeah, I saw it. Shut up.

R.Kelly then used the launchpad of his success with Taz and Co. to do two things:

1) create a series of videos which were operatic in nature, belying the over-produced goofiness of R.Kelly's substandard R&B stylings.

2) get charged with 21 counts of child pornography.

For the past few years, it's been the latter of R.Kelly's two achievements that has really been grabbing headlines.

Well, good news for music lovers. R.Kelly is back! And this time he's come with an astounding creative vision, an operatic saga of Wagnerian proportions. Crossing the span of five songs and five music videos, R. Kelly's opus is curiously dubbed "Trapped in the Closet".

Yes, "Trapped in the Closet." R.Kelly's not afraid of ducking the big social issues. Like picking up chicks at bars and then having to hide from their husbands in, you guessed it, the closet.

This sort of stuff more or less makes up the entirety of the 5-song cycle.

Now I know all of you want to dash off to watch all the videos, but maybe you don't have 20-25 minutes to dedicate today to R. Kelly? Well, The League is here to assist.

Remember how in the summer you'd get a job and you'd be working with people you just don't know in the slightest, and then in Day 2, they decide to start unloading all of their Jerry Springer personal lives on you? And you begin to formulate a theory that this person seems to have designed their model for proper behavior between human beings by watching endless hours of Melrose Place and The O.C.?

And despite the fact they're managing to bore you AND make you uncomfortable with their stories, you can't manage to just shush them. After all:

1) Your mama raised you to be polite and listen
2) You figure that if they're telling you, it must be very important and maybe they've decided you're the only person they can talk to (until you realize every single person around knows the entire story by heart by now)
3) You figure if they're bothering to tell you this incredibly convoluted story with a half dozen characters and an obvious chain of incredibly poor choices on the part of the narrator, my GOD, there's got to be a point...

And then the person finishes the story and asks you what you what you think, and you're left standing there wondering, since their story has made you seriously consider the legitimacy of mandatory sterilization for the very first time, that maybe you're a closet fascist.

Well, that's R. Kelly. R.Kelly is the moron who sat in front of me that bleak summer at North Harris Community College who couldn't pass any exams whatsoever. R.Kelly is the twit who took up my coffee break three consecutive days at Chuck E. Cheese. R. Kelly is the flake I sat next to at defensive driving. R. Kelly is the angrily irresponsible boob Real World casting agents salivate over.

What does the song cycle accomplish?

The sheer scope of the project screams "epic", and you can almost feel it. This is IT. This is R.Kelly's big artistic moment, his chance to prove he's not just a guy who takes pictures of underage girls. He's a serious artist with a big picture of the world that he simply must share or he might explode.

And, apparently, he's a guy who doesn't think it's weird that he doesn't need to come home to his wife at night, and that he will cheat on his wife after a drink or two. We also learn that he's a serious artist who doesn't wear protection (nor even shower) after finding out about the wild world of sexual intrigue he's just foisted upon himself.

Re: the title

I don't want to give anything away. Someone in this tale is, in fact, gay... Is it R.Kelly? Well, the title would suggest exactly that. But, in a completely unsurprising display demonstrating a total lack of subtely on R.Kelly's part, R.Kelly as narrator is not revealed to be gay. He's actually trapped in the literal closet.

It is another character who disappears after Song 3 that is figuratively "in the closet". And while Figure #3 is important, he's not really central enough to make you think he should really be grabbing the title.

The whole enterprise sort of leaves you wondering. Is R.Kelly that naive to think that the title wouldn't raise a few eyebrows, or were the extra two parts of the song just R. covering his tracks? The world may never know...

Now, for no particular reason a gun enters late in Track #1, adding both an alarming insight into R.Kelly's first line of defense in a confrontation and a lot of awkward and pointless gun waving during the interminable Track #2.

Musically, all 5 tracks are the same indistinguishable mass of steady beats and audio loops. What's supposed to be carrying all five tracks, in theory, is R.Kelly's vocal. There is a sort of rhyme and meter, but the entire thing feels more like R.Kelly made up as kooky of a story as he could while floating in the tub and then added a few loops behind it.

Still, you doubt The League? Here are some of my favorite lyrics.

Damn, here comes a police man
He drove right up on me and flashed his light
Then I pulled over without thinkin twice
He hopped out the car and walked over to me
And said license and registration please
I looked up at him and said
Officer, is there somethin wrong
He said no, except you were were doin 85 in a 60 mile zone
Then I said officer
Let me explain please
Ya see the truth of the matter is
Is that I have an emergency
He said no excuses
And no exception
I said this is some bull...as he gave me the ticket

Tellin' it like it is. Reportin' from the streets. It's R.Kelly. For all the lyrics, click here.

The truth is, this actually reads about 10 times better than it actually sounds.

Leaguers, I simply CANNOT RECOMMEND "TRAPPED IN THE CLOSET" ENOUGH. It's a rare thing when one sees a project so obviously important to an artist, a project so near and dear to an artist's heart that they want to say, "THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE ONE THEY'LL REMEMBER ME FOR!" And it is rare that such a labor of love is such a complete trainwreck of misery and crapola completely exposing the artist for the hacky schmuck he really is.

To watch the entire epic, click here.

I have no idea what TP.3 means. Maybe it's slang for "The law requires that I inform you that I am living in your neighborhood."
TTSNB, San Diego ComicCon Part 1

It's San Diego ComicCon time again, and that means it's time for a whirlwind edition of TTSNB.

As always, The League is just leeching off the good work done by the folks at Action-Figure.com.

The San Diego ComicCon has become a real launchpad for new toy lines and showcasing new product from existing toy lines aimed at collectors. So not all toys in this edition of TTSNB are necessarily TTSNB. There are also toys The League finds to be of interest.

DC Direct usually just makes DC Comics related merchandise, but recently decided to add items to thier line which include other WB properties. Not the least of which is the popular Looney Tunes characters. The League tittered like a little girl at seeing the new Looney Tunes Golden Age collection.

You can have your action heroes and I can have mine. Johnny Cash gets his own action figure from SOTA TOys. I can't wait to see the battles between Johnny and Megatron.

Do the chickens have large talons? Now you can decide! Set up Cage Fighting matches between Napolean and Kip. Make up your own election speeches for Pedro! Envision your own, unique dance for Napolean! All your wildest dreams will come true with these collectible figures from Napolean Dynamite.

Personally, I wanted a Debbie figure with her handcart loaded with plastic crates.

Vote for Pedro.

Did you enjoy seminal 80's action film "Die Hard"? The League did. Coming soon, the folks at Palisades Toys will be bringing you adorable likenesses of our friends Hands, John, and Argyle. But, curiously, no Al.

The League is so far most excited about a new line of DC COmics toys from Mattel which appear to tie in with the Batman line The League has been so fond of (anyone remember The League welcoming Killer Croc home?).

While The League is puzzled over the Batcentric nature of the toys, The League suspects Mattel had some Bat-TOys all ready to go when they decided to go to a DC line instead of a strictly Bat-Centric line. We're hoping we see a Wonder Woman and J'onn J'onzz in pretty short order. But we do have a new Bizarro, and that ain't all bad.

This may also explain why DC Direct is now moving into creating non-DC Comics related figures.

update: I forgot the link to the new DC figures.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Reed T. Shaw, Captain of the starship "Winaprize", and proud father of QuickDraw McShaw has popped up in the old e-mail box.

Reed-o has some interesting links to share.

On the subject of Lance Armstrong, go here.

and here.

For race updates, here.

And, hinting The League and Mrs. League might do well to look into the sport, Reed sends along a story about The World Wife Carrying Championship.

You can read here and here.

Being of the Finnish persuasion, i wonder if I wouldn't have a genetic disposition for toting around wives. Especially my own.
Hey, all.

Quick Suggestions for Further Reading:

All-Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder is coming out today. Run, do not walk, to your local comic shop. Get it while the getting is good.

Written by Frank Miller
Pencils by Jim Lee



Click here for the previous SFFR to read up on Age of Bronze Vol. 1.
The League Goes to the Cinema to bear witness to
FANTASTIC FOUR

So, The Legue took in a special weekday journey to the cinema to catch up with Marvel's latest foray into the world of celluloid.



Jack Kirby created the FF after leaving DC and Challengers of the Unknown behind. Stan Lee pretty much forced him to turn his adventuring team into super heroes to help him launch Marvel Comics, and it worked. For forty years the FF has been the First Family of Comics, and is billed as "The World's Greatest Comic Magazine." A loyal fanbase the FF has. And Marvel does a good job of replicating the spirit of the comics while recreating the origin in a world without Commies to beat into space.

As anyone who has ever spent more than twenty minutes perusing The League can tell you, I'm going to dwell on the fidelity of the comic-to-big screen adaptation. Which is pretty close, actually. Four (well, five) people go up into space to check out some cosmic rays, something goes wrong, cosmic rays bombard our heroes and amazing powers are bestowed upon the heroes.

The Four (well, five) return to Earth and fight Mole Man. Well, no Mole Man, but I don't think you're going to hear anybody complaining that the first adventure didn't include Mole Man. Instead, we've jumped to villain numero uno. Lucky number 5 up in space is Dr. Victor Von Doom of Von Doom Inc., a company powerful enough to own it's own space station with gravity replicators. But, a company which has not yet gone public.

Curiously, instead of giving Doom a pathological hatred of Reed for being right about some calculations (and Doom being wrong, and this leading to an experiment exploding in Doom's face, scarring him and pledging a life of anti-Reedism), in the movie, Reed sort of does shoulder some plame. During our space mission, Reed forgets to carry a zero, and realizes the space storm isn't coming in seven hours, it's coming in seven minutes. He tells our hapless CEO, Doom, about the predicament. Doom tells him he should probably get rolling with his experiment (having just spent a billion dollars getting everyone into space. Note to self: Leave at LEAST a day early for space-based experiments).

Next thing we know, kablooie! Our heroes (and, we learn later, Doom) are bathed in cosmic rays.

After an improbable scene atop a bridge (either Georhe Washington or the Brooklyn Bridge...) the FF become Media darlings, and for some unexplained reason, this makes Doom's IPO tumble. Doom, however, is left holding the responsibility ball and is told his company is now, uh... doomed, thanks to the failure of the space project. (Talk about putting all your eggs in one basket. Diversify, Victor!) Ironically, for once, a villain appears to have a fairly legitimate reason to be irritated with a superhero movie's protagonist. Oh, that, and Reed steals his love interest. So, yeah...

Anyhoo, a vast majority of the movie is dedicated to the FF discovering their powers and dealing with suddenly being dumped into the media spotlight. And then Doom goes crazy and tries to kill everyone. And he has super powers and no accent, although he's from a tiny Eastern-European country.

Anyway, the Four get their act together and have a somewhat interesting battle with Doom in Vancouver/ NYC. The Thing picks up an HBC (Hot Blind Chick), Johnny zips around sporting the best effects of the movie, Reed's effects are uniformly terrible, and Sue's effects are sort of old hat, so...

Anyway, is it close to the comic?

Well, sort of. The Baxter Building is there. Willy Lumpkin, the FF's mailman, makes an appearance. It's still early in the game for a Fantasticar or HERBIE, or Annihilus or, uh... Galactus. And we are saved from the menace of explaining the Inhumans. In one major departure, Ben Grimm is given a wife he can lose, but she's not around as much more than a plot point before disappearing.

Von Doom's past is changed, but, more than anything, Julian MacMahon is just never properly threatening. In fact, as mentioned before, you sort of get the feeling that maybe he has a lot of legitimate reasons for not liking Reed Richards. Sure, he's a bit egotistical, but he just seems like a run of the mill jerk with a lot of dough. To his credit, he appears interested in being helpful to the FF for the first half of the movie, not to mention concerned for the future of his company, which, no doubt employs hundreds of loyal little scientists, office admins and janitors.

The final act just never really leads you to think Doom is really all that threatening, and while MacMahon isn't exactly lighting the world on fire, Tim Story's direction of MacMahon just sucks. Doom is not the kind of guy who picks up a rocket launcher, walks to a window and fires it. Doom uses robot minions to do his dirty work, and would never lower himself to getting his own hands dirty. Also, Doom has sort of a regular guy voice for the face that literally inspired Darth Vader.

As Sue Storm, Jessica Alba does little more than act bratty and fill out a spandex suit. One is left to wonder, aside from her Barbie-like features, what an egg-head like Richards would want with Sue? She yells at him and lays passive-aggressive guilt trips on him like a perpetual bad-ex-girlfriend machine. Not to mention arbitrarily shouting at her brother. But she's pretty, so we know our hero will love her by movie's end. Her invisibility effects are okay, I guess. Nothing innovative makes it's way into that department at all.

Chris Evans plays Johnny Storm just as he is in the comics. Broad, silly, but with a conscience. And, again, the best effects seem reserved for the Human Torch sequences.

Initially I was disappointed that The Thing was not a CG generated 7' high 4' wide behemoth. And part of me is still disappointed that isn't the case. At times the Thing's latex costume is convincing, but whenever he turns his neck, you can see that it's Chiklis in a rubber suit. Still, he looks like he's got better mobility than either of Keaton's Batman suits. I guess The Thing was fairly close to Lee and Kirby's initial take. Chiklis doesn't embarass himself in the role (or suit), and given the kiddy audience this movie is intended for, his pathos at becoming The Thing is probably heavy enough. Nobody likes a whiner. Chiklis wisely goes with understandably grouchy.

The dude playing Mr. Fantastic probably didn't need to read any comics to get Reed Richards down pat. He's just a guy who loves his work and has forgotten about everything else in his quest for the advancement of science. His power is to stretch his body mass into any shape he likes. Sort of like the ultimate Stretch Armstrong. The Mr. Fantastic FX are, as noted above, quite lame. But I never really cared too much. It took me out of the moment a bit, but after w hile you can play a game where you try to decide what part of mr. Fantastic is actor and what part is colored polygons.

Most disappointing was the creative team's lack of Kirbyism. Jack's name is up there in the credits right next to Stan's (a shout out to fans who know who REALLY dreamed up the FF), but no sign of his wild vision for the FF's unique technology makes it into a single frame. Instead, everything looks sort of as if it were purchased at Fry's electronics. Where are my Kirby-dots when Doom crackles with energy? Where are the wavy lines over glass? The unnecessary zigzags? The odd reflections of endless miles of steel tubing? Where are my pronounced bottom lips and sleepy looking eyes?

Dammit, man! I wanted KIRBY! Where's my fill of villains with improbably designed headgear?

Also, for some odd reason, the script makes it sound as if Reed is a genetcist. Which is fine, I guess... But the FF in the comics are adventurers, not guys working ont he human genome project. Nor are they superheroes with capes going out on patrol. They're a team of professionals ready to jump in the Fantasticar (designed by Reed) to drive through the transdimensional gate (also designed by Reed), to collect data with instruments (designed by Reed), for application in industrial projects (by Reed). Unfortunately, they often run afoul of transdimensional beasties and alien warlords in their travels. And it was this adventurous attitude that got them bathed in cosmic rays in the first place.

In truth, the movie was better than I expected. It's certainly more enjoyable than the forgettable Daredevil, but is still a far cry from the rare-achievemnt of the Spider-Man movies. The story and characters are terribly kid friendly, and a part of me would have loved to have seen more toys and doo-hickeys (Fantasticar, HERBIE) for younger fans to have as $20 plastic toys.

Maybe next time around.

Not only does the film jump up and point to the likelihood of a sequel, it's made enough this weekend alone to justify a second round with the FF.

Monday, July 11, 2005



The League Presents:
TOYS THAT SHOULD NOT BE

The Longhorn Po-Boy Enthusiast



Anyone who lived in Austin got used to occasionally seeing local eccentric and body-modification nut, Enigma, out and about from time to time. The first few opportunities running into Enigma at 2:00 am at Magnolia Cafe was always sort of titillating. "Don't look, don't look... okay, NOW!" you'd always say to the person who hadn't seen Enigma and/ or his Cheetara look-alike girlfriend.

But after a while, you'd be headed into Kinko's to photocopy your tax forms or headed into Longhorn Po-Boy to grab lunch, and there was Enigma. And that's sort of the trouble with naming yourself "Enigma" and trying to set yourself apart from the rest of us regular jerks. The magic is sort of gone the second someone sees you actually doing the same mundane bulls**t everyobody else has to do. (I would love to see Enigma having to water his yard. Seriously. It gives me the chills just thinking about it.)

Having no discernable talent not held by the average 19-year old in Austin, Enigma has sorted of traded on his modification at freak shows and a brief appearance on X-Files about 10 years ago.



Encouraged by the attention, Enigma remains true to his vision for himself, and while something about all that ink sort of makes you feel that the man just needs a big hug, you also have to admire his ability to sit in a chair while somebody pokes him.

Palisades Toys has just announced that Enigma will be turned into a tiny, abstract little action-thing for collectors of this sort of stuff.

The League admits to a twinge of jealousy at this man's ability to dye himself blue, but The League is also a sucker for a steady paycheck and health insuance.

Also, why is the toy gray?
Roger Ebert: Fantastic Fear

In reviewing "Fantastic Four", I believe Roger Ebert just said, "Well, I'd like to see Jessica Alba in an Invisible Bikini." And then later went into how Alicia Masters and Ben Grimm would need a "reinforced bed" if we're to believe their romance should come to it's logical conclusion.

Thank you, Roger, for taking something delightful from my childhood and making it high-octane nightmare fuel.
this shall make Steanso wet himself.

Correction: this will make Steanso wet himself even more.

Soulhat returns! Whoo-hoo!

Thanks to Jim D. for the link.

And no thanks to Steanso for dragging me unwittingly to a Soulhat show in 1994.

Sunday, July 10, 2005


this image would be hilarious if I could get it to show up the right size. Click for full-sized hilarity.

THE LEAGUE GOES TO SEE WAR OF THE WORLDS

ZAP! BLAM! ZORCH!!! KA-POWIE!!!!!

Since The League was a wee tot, he's been a bit interested in HG Wells' tale of horrific panic, War of the Worlds. I confess that my interest hasn't really been in the novel (which I finally attempted to read this spring to, uh... mixed results), but in the 1938 radio broadcast and 1953 film versions of WoW.

In 7th grade I had initially heard about the mad panic caused by Orson Welles' broadcast, and located tapes of the show. For those of you unfamiliar with the 1938 broadcast and ensuing panic, I HIGHLY suggest you read up on the broadcast here. The radio broadcast is absolutely worth listening to for more than nostalgia reasons. Just imagine tuning in a few minutes late and it sort of boggles the mind.


In 1988, a TV series based upon the 1953 movie was released. Staying mostly in continuity with the movie, WoW: The TV series suggested that the 1953 attack had been a scouting mission of some sort, and in 1988 the aliens were finally getting off their duff and getting serious about taking over the planet. The show was 1) not that great, 2) got real weird real fast, and 3) was on at some awkward time, so I didn't catch it all that often.

It DID lead me to rent the 1953 movie which, along with the debut of MST3K, led me to a love affair with classic sci-fi, good and bad, which continues to this day. (It is no coincidence that both War of the Worlds and MST3K both have characters named Dr. Clayton Forrester.)


I still watch the original film about once a year. Sure, it's a bit dated and sexist, but it's good at what it does, and I can still remember how it scared me the first time I saw it. The ship design is still excellent. Sound FX, alien FX and force field FX still hold up remarkably well.

War of the Worlds relies on poking and prodding your fight or flight responses. Unlike Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, or even the aliens from ID4, the aliens in WoW can't be fought, can't be slowed, can't be tricked with some nice flying and a Mac with a wireless connection. They're pure unstoppable force with no points of weakness. To see a tri-pod is to see death arriving.

So how does Spielberg's War of the World's stack up?

Pretty well, I guess.



It should be no surprise that the special effects, sound design, set design, etc... are all top notch. The tripods look and sound phenomenal. Scary, monstrous stuff, taking cues from both the novel and the 1950's film (sound FX and the look of the force fields). And while I like the gliders from the 1953 version, it's no secret that the gliders were there because the special FX folks couldn't animate a 3 legged vehicle without it tumbling over. This crew makes it work.

The tripods seemed to have more of a functional purpose in previous incarnations, given the aliens' physiology. There's nothing really wrong with the current look of the aliens, but by taking away the fact that the aliens are using the tripods for tasks (ie, violence) their bodies can't perform, it somehow takes away the cold thuggishness of the three-eyed blobs as they go about their business.

Oh, three eyes? Not in this movie, baby. These joyriders are all about stereoscopic vision. Seemingly the love child of tea aliens from AI and ID4, it's all elbows, long limbs and beady little eyes. It's a nice design, but I sincerely liked the squat blobs of the 1953 version a bit better. Not to mention that the horrible three-part eye was about all you really saw of them. (creepy little three-eyed bastards).

The film uses images of devastation with great effect. Unlike the fireball devastation of, say ID4, Spielberg's WoW tears apart freeways and overpasses, blasts apart intersections and disintegrates buildings, brick by brick.

Tom Cruise is, and I hate to say this, pretty darn good. As much as he annoyed the hell out of The League in The Last Samurai, Tom uses that cocky charm to good effect in this film (for maybe five minutes when things go boom). Yes, he is a jack-ass, but in this movie, he's our jack-ass.

Dakota Fanning is good, I guess. I've read some reviews which talk about her giving an Oscar-worthy performance, but I don't know if that's quite how I see it. Sure, she's good, but, you know...

The story flows along at a good pace, although it does eliminate the familiar "standing around the spaceship until bad stuff happens" scene which found it's way into the book, radio show and movie. The script definitely borrows elements from the book and 1953 film (avoiding detection in the house) to good effect.

The movie does a fairly good job of propelling itself along (at breakneck pace) while integrating memorable character moments. Some of these are Spielbergian character moments of goofy sentimentality, but it's not that they don't work or even necessarily insincere. They're just... sort of... Squishy.

A lot of items remain unnecessarily unexplained. And while War of the Worlds has never gone out of it's way to get into the minds and motivations of the aliens, some items simply could have used a little clearing up.

beware: HUGE SPOILERS AHEAD

Unsurprisingly, the points at which the script strays furthest from the original concepts are where the story runs into trouble. Innovations like the aliens inserting themselves via lightning strike goes beyond defying physics to defying logic. Were the aliens just floating around in a cumulonimbus for the past million years? Is there a mother ship or not?

The film suggests that the tripods sat dormant for millions of years. How on earth were the tripods not identified under the streets of NYC, Boston, Chicago? Why did the aliens wait a million years?


Waiting a million years suggests that the aliens had been to earth before. Wouldn't they be aware that they were going to keel over if they'd visited earth before?

Further, this Modus Operandai suggests that this was most likely not the first time the aliens had used this MO for invasion. Have the aliens not yet learned the value of a good, sealed space suit?


And if they had a million years, why didn't they just nuke earth from orbit and come back when the radiation was gone? Or use cows for their evil schemes instead of people?

end spoilers

The movie makes more sense in the context of Mars invading earth, and while the movie never explicitly says where the aliens come from, the logic behind the original movie, radio show, etc... somehow seems to add up slightly better.

That said, the movie is a good popcorn movie. It may, in fact, win some academy awards for sound and visual FX. And while WoW will most likely continue to be interpreted for film, TV and who-knows where else, this version certainly won't do the general property that is WoW any disservice.

Anyway, all in all, fairly enjoyable.

I also saw the trailer for Peter Jackson's King Kong. People (I'm looking at you, SGH) seem bent out of shape about this movie being made. I'm not really sure why.

Look, I love the original King Kong. I think it's a great adventure movie, but, let's be honest, it's not 1933 anymore. The story should still work for audiences today, and today's effects are a direct descendant of the original Kong.

It's got a gorilla and dinosaurs. Thus, it has already earned my $8.00.

Friday, July 08, 2005





You are Pedro Sanchez and love holy chips.


Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
The League presents
Suggestions for Further Reading:

AGE OF BRONZE


So, comics aren't all capes, tights and jet packs. Occasionally someone decides to do something a little different. Or, depending upon how you want to read it, something classically familiar.

Eric Shanower is the one man band behind Age of Bronze, a retelling of the Trojan War in comic book format.

I've only read Volume 1 (Volume 2 is just now being released as a trade paper back), but thus far, Age of Bronze has been a true achievement. Handling dozens of characters, both familiar and less so, as well as a handful of ancient cultures, Shanower manages to put a unique stamp on each character and storyline.


To prepare for the comic, Shanower has done his homework. Pulling from more than just the Iliad, Shanower has consulted other versions of the story, both ancient versions and modern versions based upon archaeological evidence of the recent past. Shanower manages to meld the sources in order to create a level of understood depth that easily surpasses the usual stereotypes of togas and sandals standing around columns.

The story doesn't ignore the Gods and mythology in his retelling, but has chosen to show only the mortal (and perhaps, thereby, human) side of the story. It is possible the gods are at work, but it's left to the reader to decide if the gods are actually involved or not. Character still experience visions, there's still some divination and prophetic dreams, but at no point do the gods actually make an appearance.

The story takes us from Paris living as a cow herder in rural Greece to the setting sail of 1000 ships toward Troy. Characters such as Odysseus and Achilles play prominent roles as the story unfolds, but are not presented as flawless mythological beings as much as charismatic and skilled leaders.

To some extent, the dialogue can occasionally feel stilted. And it should be mentioned that Shanower's art is occasionally stiff as costuming details take precedence over natural poses. It might also be mentioned that, as of this printing, the art is entirely in black and white. Will the reader miss the color? Most likely not. Shanower's art doesn't need color to succeed. The pacing, elaborate detail and characterization do more than enough to keep the reader invested.

Age of Bronze is a good cross-over book for folks who still won't read about superheroes, or folks into mythology or ancient history. If Shanower is being serious, the story will span 7 volumes before it is completed. I'm guessing these books are going to find their way into classics departments for quite some time well after the 7th volume is finally released.


For previous Suggestions for Further Reading, click here.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

The League wishes to make note of the horrific events of today in London.

I am unsure of what to say, other than that my sympathies, and those of all Americans, are with the people of London and the United Kingdom.

England will, of course, show the world why it is famous for its resolve and tenacity in the face of such adversity.
Mystery Albums from a Far-Off Place


So, occasionally being Chairman and CEO of The League of Melbotis has unexpected consequences. Sure, The League has not brought fame, money, women or even personal gratification… But occasionally material goods are gotten in a way which I don’t have to report on my taxes.

Just such an adventure began not long ago when The League made a trek to the mailbox.

The mailbox contained two padded media envelopes from two different people The League does not know. Quickly discerning that the albums were, in fact, from eBay sellers and bought by an anonymous source, The League was intrigued.

Inside envelope #1? Warrant’s 1990 album, Cherry Pie.

Yes, Cherry Pie. An album The League confesses he had never heard in its entirety. But was The League, age 15, really right to prejudge the band and album based upon bad hair and a video fraught with double entendre?



Well, let’s just say that while my initial feelings on the album were, perhaps, knee-jerk and reactionary to what was the oppressive nightmare of late 80’s hair metal. No matter the initial success of the record, the album has not aged like a fine wine.

While the title track, Cherry Pie, does fill my head with images of the video and model Bobbie Brown prancing about with a firehose against a white backdrop, the nostalgia ends there. From there, The League gets the same queasy uneasiness which he felt quite often circa 1990 as bands such as Warrant, Great White and Poison filled hour after hour of MTV’s programming.

The League’s fragile psyche was rattled with flashback images of sweaty glam rockers, rocking in unison.

Luckily, it is not just The League which has chosen to put the past behind him. It should be noted that Windows Media Player did not retrieve the album information as it usually does upon accepting any new album.




It should be noted that at some point and for some duration, Bobbie Brown was, in fact, married to that cheese-d**k singer you see in the photo.















Inside Envelope #2? The pain continues with Poison’s 1990 bow, “Flesh & Blood”.

Oh, holy hell.

There’s not a memorable song on this waste of 0’s and 1’s. Poison was a particularly asinine part of circa 1990 America, perhaps giving the rest of the world a pretty good reason to turn on the US of A.



Led by “Bret Michaels”, Poison was visually and musically indistinguishable from any other 1980’s metal band, save for wild man CC DeVille. CC was most memorable for lying on the floor during his screaming guitar solos and refusing to quit rocking even after becoming very pudgy and his styule of music was horrendously out of vogue.

Honestly, I’m coming up empty. This is a really, really shitty record. And if you bought it for your own listening pleasure between 1990 and 1992, you deserve every bad thing that ever happened to you.





Thinking the gifting was over, The League was surprised to receive a 3rd envelope from yet another eBay seller.

Inside envelope #3: Ugly Kid Joe’s 1991 musical travesty: As Ugly as they Want to Be.

The musical equivalent of Garbage Pail Kids, Ugly Kid Joe somehow stumbled their way into fame as, in the wake of the success of Pearl Jam, record execs abandoned their glitter-sprayed LA metal gods in favor of earthier, more flannelized fare. This effort was met with, as history has shown, mixed results.

Ugly Kid Joe was an overshot by a well-meaning record exec who confused earthy for stupid. Nobody asked for Ugly Kid Joe, anymore than anyone asked for Mr. Big, and yet, here they were. Constantly.

Honestly, The League has such bitter feelings about this particular band that we have bypassed a listen of this record. We heard the hit single, whatever it was, enough during our formative years that the very sight of the album cover brought back the nervous twitch in our left eye.



The little, hilarious, caricature on the cover of the album still brings back bad memories of trying to come of age in rural/ suburban Houston. Guys like this were a sort of omnipresent threat.

The League remembers this music with an extra dash of piss and vinegar as this was the original co-option of "college rock", which was, of course, transmorgified hair metal. This trend has not only continued, but led to travesties such as Avril Lavigne and "Hot Topic."






Just as we were all set to blog upon our gifts, what should come in the mail but lucky envelope #4.

A curious addition to the previous arrivals, the anonymous gifter had selected Anthrax’s 1991 release “Attack of the Killer B’s.”

This album was not a new album. It’s a comp of Anthrax’s B-Sides and other obscure and unreleased material. And while The League was not so much an Anthrax fan himself, he at least felt that Anthrax was, at minimum, funny, if not as scary as they wanted to be perceived.

Curiously, this collection of B-Sides may have done more for Anthrax’s longevity and general warm wishes amongst Gen X’ers than any of their previous work. In a move well-documented by VH1 and MTV at this point, Anthrax had decided to join controversial hip hop group Public Enemy for a new version of “Bring the Noise” from PE’s watershed 1988 album, “It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back.”

Anthrax, not entirely by accident, brought hip hop to a generation of white kids who otherwise had given up on Hip Hop after Run DMC’s “Raising Hell.”

“Bring Tha Noize” also appeared on Public Enemy’s 1991 album, “Apocalypse 91: The Enemy Strikes Black” (an album which contains League favorite “By the Time I get to Arizona”).

Sadly, The League isn’t anymore into Anthrax now than he was in 1991. And, it should be mentioned for Madi that, for The League, memories of Anthrax and Denise D. will forever be intermingled. That dame was really into Anthrax.

The League was supposed to see PE in 1991 or 1992, but plans were scrubbed when the tour, double billed with goth-curiosity “Sisters of Mercy”, failed to sell enough tickets and the show was cancelled.

With several out of town visitors in for the show, the group got their money refunded and went to see Charlie Sheen’s “Hot Shots” at the North Oaks 6 Cineplex.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

We're booked for Beaumont.

Date: July 23rd, 2005

The League and Mrs. League are headed for the majestic Jefferson Theater in Beaumont, Texas for a screening of Superman: The Movie, followed by a screening of Flash Gordon.

WHOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

I expect to see all Loyal Leaguers in Beaumont for the screening. And to provide us with crate after crate of The League's favorite movietime treat, Hot Tamales. Seriously, without the Hot Tamales, The League will not make it through the movie.

So, this weekend, The League has to work on a presentation about Superman. Can you beat that?

Any ideas you Leaguers might have for filling twenty minutes would be appreciated. Otherwise, we're currently down to

1:00 minute synopsis of the film's history
1:00 on the new movie, Superman Returns
1:00 minute on Superman comics
17:00 minutes of me "flying" around the auditorium with my homemade cape and red briefs

And, you know, Steanso keeps promising to show up, and if you haven't seen Steanso in all his glory, my God, Leaguers... you are missing something. Just imagine latter-era Elvis: sweaty, dazed... take away the talent and women, add a foot of vertical height and a law degree, and VOILA!!!!!

Also, RHPT.com is going to show up. RHPT, Leaguers. Which is sort of like having Scooter from The Muppets, only more of a programmer and married to a person of tremendous mystery who is staying in Tennessee for reasons known only to her.
In case you forgot, Lance "LiveStrong" Armstrong is trying to make world history. Again.

Lance is currently racing his heart out in the Tour de France.

The League stands in awe.

read more here.

Expect many links to Tour de France updates over the next several days.
Happy Independence Day

The League is sorry to say we have been doing a poor job of keeping Loyal Leaguers keyed into events here at League HQ.

We're still in a sort of vacation mode, having only been to work for a day and a half in the past 10 days or so. We've been doing a lot of catching up on comics that we hadn't gotten around to reading, thanks to a busy schedule and a large influx of mini-series from DC (I should also point out that OMAC Project is getting very good, and will run through all 3 Superman titles in July as well as Wonder Woman).

We believe Flag-Guy/ Squidward across the street may be dead or vacationing as his usual display of patriotism wss nowhere to be seen this weekend. We, however, had our flags out, and could be said to be the most patriotic house on the block with our five tiny flags.



We also climbed onto the roof to watch the fireworks from Chandler and Tempe (from the roof, you can see for miles across this barren wasteland I call home).

Thank you, noble founding fathers, for coming up with a holiday upon which I can not work and see firey explosions from my roof (actually, this sounds like the situation for a lot of people in other lands, but we get to do it with minimal fear of shrapnel following the firey explosion).

Anyway, The League will be back on board this week, and we hope to write about the awesomeness of 80's/ 90's metal, and what it means when it shows up in your mailbox, totally unannounced.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

SUPERBOWL CHAMPS FLY COACH*

Early Saturday morning The League and Mrs. League headed for Sky Harbor airport here in the Valley of The Sun in order to depart for our loverly vacation at Muskego Point. Whilst waiting for our aircraft, Mrs. League and The League parked ourselves in Starbucks and tried to get caffeinated for what was going to be a long day of traveling. As is our wont, The League was lamenting the beaten down folks toting kids through the airport, truly a complicated task.

"They look like they've lost all confidence," The League stated. "But look at that guy. He looks like he has confidence."
And then it dawned on The League WHY that dad didn't look like he'd had all vitality sucked from him years and years ago. That guy is a two-time NFL MVP. And he's leading around a four year old girl in a silly dress.

But where do Superbowl Champs go? We tried not to stare at MVP, but the harder you try not to stare... You know? It turns out, we realized as we went to board, at minimum MVPs and their spouse and six kids go through Minneapolis, too. We kind of snickered, and then realized, Mr. MVP and his family didn't board with the first-class passengers. In fact, a minute after we'd boarded, Mr. MVP and two of his kids sat down two rows in front of us.

About two hours into the flight, the guy in the casino hat next to us began engaging Jamie in conversation. "Did you notice Mr. MVP?"
"Mmm-hmmm."
"Are you going to talk to him?"
"Oh. No."
"I am."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I need to get a picture with him."
And then he held up his pocket-sized digital camera with a big, poop-eating grin.

I looked up at Mr. MVP, who was leaning over to talk to his kids as he'd been doing the entire flight, and I began plotting how I was going to run interference for Mr. MVP.

It didn't happen. When we deplaned, the MVP family exited before me, as well as Casino Hat guy. Fortunately, all Casino Hat guy did was pat Mr. MVP on the shoulder and welcome him to our fair city.

With a little bit of sadness, I watched Mr. MVP wander on off down the walkway, surprisingly large family in tow.

We met up with Doug in Minneapolis, grabbed our rental car, and located Doug's significant other, Kristen. 4 hours of road and a lot of trees later, we made it to Muskego Point. The in-laws were already there, and had decided we were coming in much later, and so were gone fishing. Jamie and I went to the store at Muskego Point, and related our story to the owners of the resort. And, I realized, upon retelling, seeing a famous person on an airplane just isn't that exciting.



My in-laws came in from the lake, Dick and I put our life vests on and went right back out. I caught a lot of blue-gill and perch, but nothing worth keeping. Still, it was nice out, and it's always nice to remember there is a place somewhere on earth with trees and water you can drink, and a surprising lack of khaki shorts and golf shirts. Just you, a lack of fishing skill, and a whole lake full of fish quietly mocking your attempts to eat them.

I'm not sure exactly when it was, but Doug said, "Mr. MVP is here."
"Que?"
"He's here. He's with his family in one of the cabins. It's supposed to be a secret."
And then I flashed back to the owner's reaction at my mention of Mr. MVP being on our flight, and it made sense. They're big sports fans, and they didn't even ask the cursory, "So, did you talk to him?" They sort of smiled and nodded and that was that.

Nonetheless, Minnesota is an exceptionally large state. With many small towns on, at last count, at LEAST 10,000 lakes. And yet here sat Mr. MVP. It was as if Mr. MVP was just begging to have me harass him.

So secret was Mr. MVP's visit, that while his kids were sort of omnipresent around the beach and zipping about the grounds, it took a few days before I saw him anywhere actually walking around himself. And I felt sort of bad for him. I mean, sure, he can comfort himself with his outstanding record and bags of money, but he couldn't even really leave his cabin for fear that us gawkers would assume it was okay to bother him while on vacation.

After spending countless hours watching Mr. MVP play ball, I am now proud to say that Mr. MVP has watched my awesome badminton skills. Leaguers, The League is a badminton phenom who expects the Olympic committee to come calling any day. Sure, I can't serve properly, but I am an intimidating force in the sand pit. May Mr. MVP tremble when he thinks of facing off against The League. More fortunate, Mr. MVP did not witness my astounding lack of talent at the hoop. Kristen outscored everyone else 4-1.

Other adventures of the vacation included just outrunning a large storm while coming in from the lake. The storm blew over many a tree branch and made the water quite choppy. We lost power, and spent the evening trying to make quesadillas in the fireplace. Also, we tried to decide whether we should confront lactose intolerance or let the milk in the fridge spoil.

The most exciting part of losing power was the loss of water from the filtration system. Which meant not only did we not have drinking water, but we couldn't flush the toilet. Which sort of balanced itself out.



Further, there was an attempt to tame the wiley water dragon brought to the cabin by Judy Q. McBride.

The attempt was a failure.

We went fishing several times over the three days while we were there. Jamie managed to catch an incredible number of perch, a good number of bluegill, and a nice northern.

The League fared not so well. While The League almost had two northerns, he was too busy running his mouth at the crucial moment to get the fish into the boat. We did get two pan friers, and many, many who were not big enough to eat. Luckily, The League enjoys the act of fishing as much as actually getting anything. This is most likely an indirect result of The League never having had known true fishing success.

In addition, the League got some good reading done. Read Age of Bronze Vol. 1, Wrath of the Specter, and a hundred pages of Theodore Rex.

All in all, The League's batteries are recharged and we feel ready to slog through another month of work before heading off for sunny Beaumont, Texas where we will be attending the Jim D. Sponsored screening of Superman: The Movie.

Who knows what professional sports superstar will fly with me from Phoenix to Houston. Dare I dream...? A full two hours in the presence of Charles Barkley?

*Due to privacy issues, The League will not identify the Superbowl Champ who accidentally vacationed with us.


The League is now back in town. But don't expect too much out of us until the weekend.

We had a wonderful time in the crazed woodlands of Minnesota. Lots of driving today. Lots of flying. Lots of driving and picking up pets. Lots of rest needed to make up for the restful vacation.

Jamie caught a nice fish. I did not.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

By the way, The League is on hiatus until July 1.

We're off to Minnesota.

Friday, June 24, 2005


A nice image to end the week on.

Concept art for the upcoming film, Superman Returns.