Summertime Rolls

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic,
nourishing Night!
Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!
Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!

-Walt Whitman

It’s still summer. Heavy Sessions or else just Sessions, that’s the theme for the photographs presented below. Here are our findings, this is the evidence.  Observe, consider, and enjoy. FSD/PDX/Summer07.

Spring Hall Convert

MUSIC: We keep listening to that Deerhunter “Flourescent Gray” EP (on Kranky) over and over again, irreversibly hooked on the shimmering saucer-pop crystals contained within. As fellow FSD/DM contributer Matthew K. remarked, “So let me get this straight — music is good again, right? I mean really good!” Indeed.

REQUEST: Pick us up in your car, and drive us to nature. It’s not far. It’s like right over there. On a clear day, we can see it, if we stand on our tippy-toes. The above image is like not far from us at all, can you even believe it. So come pick us up. Thank you. Thanks.

READING: Still on the WWH trip. We’re loving this. In issue two, Hulk fights everyone AND WINS. Perfect. Other recent highlights: the fun and surprisingly dense Order #1…the intriguing All-Flash #1 (is it true Waid is only doing four issues of Flash?), the gorgeous Gene Ha art in the latest JLofA, and our recent discovery/re-discovery: X-Factor might be Marvel’s Greatest Title. We read this when it came out, then, for a reason(s) we’re not sure, we stopped reading it. Now we’re going back and reading it all. And we’re all like, woah, wow, this is good, this is great. It’s Peter David, so you know its smart and funny, but this book feels lived-in…like you really know these folks, and they know you, and each month you get to check in on them, make sure they’re doing okay…basically, it makes you care. That’s a good feeling, especially when reading a comic book. Caring.

Pretty sure the majority of PAD’s 90’s X-Factor (1st Series) run is collected now…I’m remembering now how much over-the-top fun that was, and since I dropped the title (that’s around when I quit altogether…1993 I believe…I wonder where/how it ended.

[Okay so I just did a little e-search and realized that PAD left in 1993 with issue 91, which I read, back then, so it turns out I did read his entire run. Oh good. Meanwhile now I want to read it again. Nostalgia!]

Final question: Are there any more Summer Blockbusters coming out? Or is that it? Do we have to wait until autumn, when we’ll all wear sweaters to all the latest Indie Flicks or does summer have more in store? We want to see films! Films we want films we want we want!

Stanley

Matthew K: Starting not long from now, at the beginning of August, Northwest Film Center’s Whitsell Auditorium will be hosting a retrospective of an undirty dozen of Kubrick’s films.

 

Because he’s dead, see? That’s why it makes sense.

And as you may know, we here at the Miltonian are very excited about things like Stanley Kubrick retrospectives.

Though, I’ll admit, I’ve got my mixed feelings about the man–his renowned iciness, his icy control and iceman beardiness. Was he really, I wondered, the best person to take on the decidedly unglacial, oversexed 19th-century badassery of William Thackeray?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Irony and the craftsman’s detachment are, after all, kissing cousins.

But what I really worry about is this: The Whitsell generally projects from digital transfers. That is to say: DVDs.

A director known for his control of light and frame and the magisterial beauty of the image is ideally shown on a medium that can house majesty. This seems evident enough. And this is not yet true of the DVD, which in its large-screen projected form still reveals its limitations–the unworn grain of its cracked pixels, the fuzz and bleed of embedded RGB, the occasional blipping skip where the projectionist’s thumb imprinted its oil onto the disc.

It remains, however, a matter of some mystery whether the Whitsell can afford the higher costs of procuring and showing film prints of all 12 of Kubrick’s post-1955 movies. 

We wonder: will there be film at the filmhouse?

All Quiet On The Western Front

Summer I is dead; long live Summer II. Daily Miltonian’s Pacific NW Offices are sending out an open request for NATURE and/or WATER. Meaning, find out when we aren’t working, then come by our offices during said non-working hours, pick us up, and drive us to somewhere with copious amounts of nature (and/or water). The other day we were out on the Springwater Corridor trail, watching an osprey fly through the sky with a fish in its claws (talons?). We watched said osprey chew up said fish and feed it to its children (os-spring?). So real.

Plastic Little is playing tomorrow night at Holocene, here in PDX. In case you don’t know or can’t go, here’s their video for CLUB BANGER, viewable below.  Convenient.  Let it be know that these were our pals back in those old Philly days and we still consider them our pals.  So yeah.  No need for the sign up sheet, we’re already on the list.

Your humble narrator is quitting smoking once and for all, so please forgive the lack of content or serious writing on here. Free time is spent reading comics, watching serialized television in various recorded formats, and walking around late at night petting the various friendly house cats of the neighborhood. Purr.

ITEM: Not sure why, but Pynchon’s by-all-accounts-nigh-well-unreadable last novel Against the Day is (grumbled about by many as “Against the Reader”) currently for sale, at Amazon, in hardcover, in all of its 1,088 pages of insane glory, for a mere SEVEN DOLLARS! Click here if you don’t believe.

ITEM: Speaking of PoMo, DFW’s latest is now in softcover and on sale at Powell’s, I got mine for like ten and change. The title essay about the lobster is priceless, but ten and change would do just as fine.

Don’t forget that you can write us now, via dailymiltonian@hotmail.com. Operators are standing by.

Also, Bader’s response to Brady’s second round of the Countdown discussion is forthcoming. For now we’ll just say: Brady? We loved those covers on 52 just as much as you did. So did you know about…this?

Down/Not Down for Countdown – Le Deuxieme

BradyDale: OK, let’s get to the real reason that I’m down for Countdown. The nitty gritty. The nuts and bolts. The meaty analysis.

I’m down because we need weekly comics. Even if this is not the perfect weekly comic. Even if it pales in comparison to that-epic-which-preceded-it, we need a weekly comic. I believe in it. And that’s really why I am down for Countdown.

Here are my reasons why I believe a weekly comic book is needed:

1) It’s not been done this way before (at least not in the US). One group of creators banding together and working this hard to make something happen for a whole year. It’s ambitious. It’s bold. It’s beautiful.

2) It’s experimental. Everything about the weekly comic model that DC invented with Countdown is a work-in-progress. Whoever figured out that they needed Keith Giffen to do what Keith Giffen is doing deserves an Eisner, but that’s just one piece of the large machine that’s churning here. It’s an organic machine, though, and it’s changing and they are working it out. For example, I think the Paul Dini, Lead Writer, Model is a mistake. I think 52 was great because it had a team (a team that, if comic book writers were superheroes, would be the JLA, but still — a “lesser” team would still work better).

3) It creates a creative dynamism. By trying new things in a different, harder way, they are going to help expand the notion of the superheroic narrative. Write a thesis on that, monkey boy!

4) It’s a great excuse to put B-Listers Center stage.

5) Mary Marvel. Have I covered this? But did you see her cover when she got her powers?

As long as I’m on covers, I have to go back to Bader’s central gripe: Countdown is not as good as 52. No question. From the artwork to the writing to the storyline to this horrible idea of making it the “spine of the DC Universe” (which I admit is an experiment, too, but it’s just too damn hard and it’s already failed so let it go), it doesn’t stand up to 52. But I believe in experimentation and I believe in the legacy of 52, even if its first offspring leaves something to be desired.

So that’s why I’m still in. The real reason. The all cards on the table reason. And, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way and before we get to Bader’s response, let’s throw out an idea that all of us in the Daily Miltonian family can agree on:

D.C. should put together a traveling exhibit of the covers from 52.

Seriously, these were some of the most bodacious covers I’ve seen in comics. Wow. We all loved this big, 52-experience, why not capitalize on it and trot these things around? They’d be a huge draw at, say, next year’s comic book convention circuit, at least. That said, I think they could get shown in some traditional galleries.

Some examples, chosen with very little care, because you didn’t really need to be careful when the selection is this awesome:

Moriarty’s Snow-Covered Bar on the Hill

Hey all, we’re taking a brief break from the comic book excitement to bring you a bit of weirdness that fell into our laps. The backstory first – on Fort Saint David’s road trip this past spring, we found ourselves at this bar at the end of a rain-soaked, strange-sandwiched, drunken, bridged-out Pittsburgh night. It was in a pretty awesome neighborhood outside the city at the top of this mountain and after a bunch of debauchery, the bartender actually let us crash there. Fast forward many months later, and both East and West Coast offices have stacks of unopened mail under the wii and tex-mex takeout containers that hold some pretty strange correspondence. It’s all just weird stories from the bartender, we guess just letting us know what things are like, and that the snow stays on his bar year-round. Enjoy!

“Call me Balthazar.
I am the proprietor of said establishment, and this is the first of
hopefully numerous installments of tales of the not-that-strange and
mind-numbingly-conventional happenings in Pittsburgh, the west east
coast.

I relocated to Pittsburgh after spending a great deal of my formative
years as a grunt for the LV Art Mob. How I ended up hundreds of miles
away and in semi-legal ownership of this fine watering hole is a story
for another time.

My clientele are often weary world travelers searching for some far-
off destination where they can leave their troubles behind.
Fortunately, I can offer this exact same destination at the bottom of
a pint.
Despite the bibulous and often unruly nature of my guests, I have two
rules, which must be abided by at all times:
· Never blaspheme Mr. Rogers.
· Always sit down to pee.
It is a little-known fact that Pittsburgh’s own Fred Rogers of Mister
Rogers’ Neighborhood has replaced J.C. in nearly all Christian circles
of the region. Those who have yet to accept Mr. Rogers as their lord
and savior are persecuted severely. When the nine-to-fivers in rest of
the continental United States (I firmly believe that Alaska and Hawaii
are myths) let their collective hair down in celebration of “Casual
Friday” each week, Pittsburgh celebrates “Cardigan Friday.” Office
buildings and stores throughout the region are filled with pious
workers sporting red cardigans and vintage Keds footwear. At the
beginning of happy hour each Friday, all those seeking respite from
the workweek in the form of an alcoholic beverage must first change
their shoes as they enter the bar. But don’t go asking me if everyone
is required to feed the fish, let’s not be ridiculous people.

Well, I must return to the boozehounds that put food on my table and
support my chair-per-week wicker furniture addiction. There are two
cockney bastards arguing about who could drink more in their heyday,
the late, great Brit footballer and womanizer George Best or
André “Anybody Want a Peanut” the Giant. Only several score pints and
a cuff to the cheek with a shillelagh will end this debate. Feel free
to chime in if you like.

And, if you happen to be on the west east coast sometime before my
next correspondence, stop in for a pint. We’re located in Pittsburgh,
across from a river and next to a bridge.”

“Hulk Does Not Understand”

Top Ten Reasons To Buy Essential Defenders Vol. 3

1. An Elf. With a Gun.
2. “Bambi”.
3. Scorpio (the thinking man’s super-villain).
4. The Bozos and Celestial Mind Control.
5. Ruby Thursday.
6. Jack Norriss.
7. Gerald Ford.
8. The secret history of Kyle Richmond.
9. Moon Knight. Hellcat. The Red Guardian. Power Man.
10. The Ludberdites of Zaar.

Perhaps the furthest apex of Truly Weird that 70’s Marvel ever reached, this is what we at the Miltonian tend to refer to as a Heeeeeavy Session.

Word Up

Versus:

So the “Adjectiveless” X-Men finally hits 200! People have said this or that about the issue, but we’ll say this: it was fast, fun, and generally good. The X-Men get betrayed not by one member, not by two…nope, they get betrayed by THREE of their own so-called peeps. Some very key players return (in some very key original threads, no less). Stuff gets blown up. The countdown to a mutant-exclusive crossover begins. What’s not to like?

Well we’ve got a little project for you. Yes you. Those of you with a little free summer weekend time on your hands, do us a favor. Do a word count on the original, 1991 Claremont/Lee X-Men (your truly clearly remembers the sweltering hot afternoon that this came out where, much to his surprise upon arriving right at opening time — on Wednesday — to his L.C.S. in Claymont, DE, there was an actual line forming at the door! We really wanted this comic book!) and then do a word count for the 200th issue. Yes, there are definitely way less words in the 200th and yes Claremont was definitely one of the wordiest writers of his time. Still, we think it’d be fun to see the depressing (or not depressing?) stats. For 200, don’t count the backup story, or else just tally it separately.

OK kids enough dilly-dallying…get to work!

[Bonus round: Uncanny X-Men #200...the trial of Magneto!]

From Such Great Heights

As my esteemed co-worker and fellow comics enthusiast Ryan Alexander-Tanner remarked today, “This might be the greatest day of comics for Superman fans in like…a really long time!”

Indeed. The final issue of the Richard Donner,Geoff Johns, Adam Kubert Action Comics came out today — IN FUCKING 3-D. Here is an illustration of our other fellow co-worker/comics enthusiast Dave, reading the thing, with the 3-D glasses that make you look like General Zod.

Quality entertainment if we’ve ever seen it. And trust us: we have! Did we mentioned Transformers? Perhaps the greatest Popcorn Flick OF ALL TIME, it’s start to finish everything you really need a movie about cars (that of course turn into robots and then proceed to fight each other) to be. Your truly had maybe five HOLY SHIT NO FUCKING WAY HOW COOL IS moments, which is a lot for any movie. So yeah, perfect!

(Shane’s immediate at-the-credits review was perhaps more succinct: Dude that shit was the shit.)

Back to Supes, the other Completely World-Ruling comic that came out today was the latest All-Star Superman, which in case you haven’t been on board is one of the most interesting, far out, and truly compelling things happening in comics anywhere. But why listen to me? LOOK AT THIS SHIT:

I know, right?  Total Entertainment.

Happy Fourth!

And remember kids, on a holiday like this one, if it wasn’t grilled, don’t eat it.