#Arnold Pander
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Vintage Comic - Grendel #01
Pencils: Arnold Pander And Jacob Pander
Inks: Jay Geldhof
Colors: Matt Wagner
Comico (Oct1986)
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Originally published by Comico and later by Dark Horse, Matt Wagner's Grendel is a creator-owned series that's evolved over the years from costumed adventure to political drama to postapocalyptic action. Most of the stories are now collected in a series of massive Omnibus volumes, which have been reissued in the past couple of years with new covers.
Vol. 1 includes most of the original Hunter Rose saga, about the original Grendel character, a dapper but ruthless and sadistic costumed criminal mastermind battling a werewolf-like antihero called Argent. The Omnibus includes the "Devil by the Deed" storyline originally serialized in Wagner's MAGE series in 1985 (recolored in grayscale and red rather than full color), plus several other sets of stories about Hunter Rose. It's not quite comprehensive: It omits the early, abortive Comico issues Wagner retooled as "Devil by the Deed" (which were reprinted in the 2007 GRENDEL ARCHIVES, and which Wagner considers apocryphal), and crossovers between Hunter Rose and Batman (from 1994) and The Shadow (from 2014). Probably the most peculiar omission is that it excludes the 1989 SILVERBACK miniseries by William Messner-Loebs and John Peck, which presents the origin of Argent; I don't know if Wagner has disowned that series or if the assets needed to reprint it are no longer available.
Vol. 2 covers the first 20 issues of the Comico GRENDEL series, and take place about 40 years after Hunter Rose's death, in a near-future world where Hunter's biographer Christine Spar, daughter of Hunter's adoptive daughter Stacy Palumbo, becomes Grendel. The volume actually begins with a later series called "Devil Child," by Wagner's long-time editor (and sister-in-law) Diana Schutz and Tim Sale (originally published as a miniseries in the late 1990s), which deals with Stacy's fate; it is creatively accomplished but extremely bleak (and needs CWs for sexual assault and spousal abuse). The ongoing series, drawn first by the Pander Bros. in a somewhat dated but generally appealing anime-inspired style, later by Bernie Mireault, is a tragic but engrossing saga of rage and revenge, somewhat more fantastical than the Hunter Rose stories. The Christine Spar story is probably the most compelling and emotionally engaging section of the whole story, although the followup, tracing the subsequent fate of her boyfriend Brian, is again very bleak.
Vol. 3 covers the remainder of the Comico series, which ended with issue #40 due to Comico's bankruptcy. This moves the timeline forward hundreds of years, first with a set of experimental (if somewhat annoying) transitional issues, and then with an engrossing but rather frosty saga of political machinations and civil war, as an ambitious businessman called Orion Assante leads an insurrection against the power of a future Catholic Church and a plague of vampirism, with the dubious aid of a mentally unstable man named Eppie Thatcher, who assumes the Grendel role and may or may not be demonically possessed. The transitional issues at the beginning are rough going stylistically, but the main story is interesting and elaborately plotted science fiction, marred chiefly by the deliberate emotional distancing of the main character (CWs apply for incest, along with a lot of sometimes icky violence), whose death decades later brings the arc to a close.
Vol. 4 includes the GRENDEL: WAR CHILD miniseries, originally intended as issues #41–50 of the Comico series, which introduce the cyborg warrior Grendel Prime and deal with the fallout following Orion Assante's death. This is a fairly conventional episodic adventure, probably at least partly inspired by LONE WOLF & CUB, with the Terminator-like Prime traveling through the apocalyptic wastes with Orion's son and heir Jupiter. It's most interesting in how it addresses the various ramifications of the previous storyline, although the almost dismissive way Wagner dispenses with that story's survivors is off-putting. This is followed by PAST PRIME, by Wagner and Greg Rucka, which is a rather too purple illustrated prose novel about a later adventure of Grendel Prime and Susan Veraghen, one of the characters from WAR CHILD. This is followed by DEVIL'S QUEST, originally serialized elsewhere, which is actually the prelude to the second Batman-Grendel crossover in 1996; Wagner apparently hasn't yet negotiated the rights to reprint those crossovers again (they were last collected in 2008), which is puzzling if you haven't read that story, although QUEST has some of the best and most experimental artwork of Wagner's career.
Vols. 5 and 6, not pictured, reprint the GRENDEL TALES series, which were Wagner's attempt to open up his concept to other writer/artist teams, most published as miniseries by Dark Horse between 1992 and 1998. Unfortunately, all are set in the world of Grendel Prime, full of cliched postapocalyptic horrors and boring warrior-clan bullshit with none of the political scheming and character conflicts that made the Orion saga interesting; there's some nice art, but the endless parade of threadbare concepts, throwaway characters, and nearly inevitable grim denouements becomes wearing quickly. Of the more than 800 pages of material, the only installments worth a look are FOUR DEVILS, ONE HELL (more for its stylish Teddy Kristiansen art than its typically pompous James Robinson script) and HOMECOMING (by Pat McEowon and Dave Cooper), a downbeat story in which Susan Veraghen goes on a bloody, leather-clad rampage to avenge the death of her former girlfriend.
I very much hope Wagner will work something out with DC to reissue the Batman/Grendel crossovers of the '90s. The first, with Batman and Hunter Rose, is by far the best, with an elaborately constructed secondary plot enlivening the shaggy dog story of the main confrontation and extremely intricate artwork; the second, with a time-travel Grendel Prime, is not as artistically adventuresome and is basically a TERMINATOR story with Batman, although it's worth a look to see what the DEVIL'S QUEST story was all about.
Wagner's Grendel/Shadow crossover is a fun romp, and works better than Wagner's misfired THE SHADOW: YEAR ONE, which made me miss the Howard Chaykin/Andy Helfer/Kyle Baker version.
#comics#grendel#matt wagner#hunter rose#christine spar#eppie thatcher#orion assante#grendel prime#jacob pander#arnold pander#brennan wagner#bernie mireault#john k snyder iii#tim sale#diana schutz
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
GRENDL DEVIL'S LEGACY no.1 • cover art • Matt Wagner [Mar 2000]
Dark Horse Comics is proud to bring you Devil's Legacy, the critically acclaimed, long out-of-print Grendel series first published in 1986, now digitally remastered and carefully recolored by Jeromy Cox for your reading enjoyment. Written by Matt Wagner (Mage), featuring pencils by Arnold and Jacob Pander (Triple X), and inks by Jay Geldhof, Grendel: Devil's Legacy focuses on Christine Spar, daughter of Stacy Palumbo and spiritual heir of Hunter Rose, who struggles to save her son and her sanity in this serial of criminal intrigue and creepy Kabuki vampires.
Creators • Writer: Matt Wagner Penciller: Arnold Pander & Jacob Pander Inker: Jay Geldhof Colorist: Jeromy Cox Letterer: Steve Haynie Editor: Diana Schutz Designer: Cary Grazzini Cover Artist: Matt Wagner
Genre: Action/Adventure, Horror, Science-Fiction
Format: FC, 32 pg. • Price: $2.95
#GRENDL DEVIL'S LEGACY no.1#Matt Wagner#Arnold Pander#Jacob Pander#Jay Geldhof#Jeromy Cox#Steve Haynie#Diana Schutz#Cary Gazzini#Grendel#Some of the best reading you will ever do
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dark Horse Presents #121 (May 1997) cover by Arnold Pander.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy Birthday to Arnold Pander!
0 notes
Text
Ginger Fox #1 (1988) Arnold & Jacob Pander Art, Mike Baron Story, 1st Appearance of Ginger Fox
#GingerFox #1 (1988) #ArnoldAnd JacobPander Art, #MikeBaron Story, 1st Appearance of Ginger Fox The story here centers around a film exec and surrounding cast of characters set in a then-imagined, future sleazy Hollywood underbelly. We get tabloid reporters, gangsters, actors, and corrupt businessmen vying for their piece of the pie. SAVE ON SHIPPING COST - NOW AVAILABLE FOR LOCAL PICK UP IN DELTONA, FLORIDA https://www.rarecomicbooks.fashionablewebs.com/Ginger%20Fox.html#1 #ComicoComicBooks #ComicoComics #KeyComicBooks #ComicBooks #KeyIssue ##RareComicBooks #Fantasy
#Ginger Fox#1 (1988) Arnold & Jacob Pander Art#Mike Baron Story#1st Appearance of Ginger Fox#key comic books#rare comic books#dc comics#marvel comics#marvel universe#dc universe#key comics
0 notes
Text
-The Lockpick and the Canary Cage Pt.1-
Jacob Frye x OC!Reader (Leandra Starrick)
No warnings, honestly just a rewrite of something I wrote years ago. I am currently working on the next installation. As always, if you like please enjoy. If not, scroll on.
‘Oh look, it’s raining. How interesting.’ Hearing the light drumming from her window, Leandra sighed as she stared up at the ceiling. Three weeks in an asylum and yet her own sanity remained intact, though daily visits from her father certainly weren’t helping. He was certainly an important man, who else could imprison their own child in Lambeth asylum with little outcry or comment? Though, one might ask just why he would go to such lengths, and it was simple…Leandra had no intention of becoming a Templar.
Admittedly, to refuse the Grandmaster of the Templar order borough in London was certainly an action that held consequences. While she had sworn that she had no intention of becoming an Assassin instead, apparently Crawford Starrick did not enjoy the idea that his daughter did not wish to follow in his footsteps. Though truthfully, adopting a child from Crawley likely wasn’t his wisest decision. Maybe he believed that by locking her away, Leandra would agree to join out of desperation. It wouldn’t work though and humorously he had the Assassin’s to blame for that.
‘What was my last record again? Two months?” Chuckling at the memory, Starrick did not know the half of her time with the Assassin’s, and she did so on purpose. Regardless of the two friends Leandra had, those higher up in the order often disregarded her after the death of her parents. While the order knew she was their charge for a time, it meant little when no one could agree on to whom she was to go to. Back then, as long as she was given a daily meal there was nothing else they felt she needed to pass time in her “room”.
Despite her current predicament, Crawford Starrick was a fine father figure. He certainly fairs much better than many of the other doting old men who looked in to adopt her. While living with his, she was allowed to study philosophy, economics, even medicine. Not many men of the age were so open to allowing a woman to learn beyond her role as homebody and bearer of children. ‘I suppose that’s why he saw fit to stick me here. Where better to dangle a hook than where I study and what I most risk losing.’
As Leandra continued to stare at nothing, her thoughts were disturbed by a knock at the door. Turning her gaze, the meal slot opened without a word and a package was slid halfway though. How interesting. “My lady?” Oh, Arnold was on guard today. He was always the nicest of her guards, even told her of news from outside or at least what he could tell her. “I got a book for ya. Mutual friend asked for this to be delivered.” Twisting herself out of the oddly comfortable bed, Leandra beamed as she took the bundle into her hands. Must be Dickens, he had been writing something the last time the two met at the George and Vulture. Ripping apart the wrapping, the joy of something new to take her mind off the situation could not be adequately described.
“Thank you Arnold. Tell me, what news is there? Last time you were here Dr. Elliotson was in the midst of trafficking his soothing syrup.” Setting the book down onto her desk, even mentioning the disgusting draught sent shivers down Leandra’s back. Before her incarceration, Starrick had asked her to check in and get an understanding of what Elliotson was pandering to the common man. While she was no chemist, the drug’s combination of opium and datura stramonium was something that she was abhorred by.
“I’m sure you’ve ‘eard the commotion around here. Someone managed to slip into the main distillery and blow the damn thing. While I wouldn’t mind shaking their ‘and, your father ain’t none too pleased. Talk around the boroughs is about these Frye twins and their gang, the Rooks.” At mentioning the name, Arthur definitely had a mocking tone. To Leandra…Blighters wasn’t much better though at least they weren’t named after a chess piece. Hold on a moment, did he say Frye?!
“Frye? Haven’t heard that name in a long time. It can’t be them…could it?” Leandra spoke her thoughts, as if saying their name herself would make it make sense. The last time she saw Jacob and Evie Frye was after her mother’s funeral in Crawley. The assassins weren’t in London, they hadn’t been for years. Shaking her head, she shifted her focus to the other parts of Arthur’s news.
“On that, you and I agree. I will never understand why father believed selling that was a good idea. Poisoning your enemies is one thing, but poisoning innocents? Nothing warrants that. How’s the Lambeth group doing? What with these Rooks and all.” Acting along with Arthur’s mockery, Leandra couldn’t let it slip that she knew Jacob and Evie. To her knowledge, not even Starrick knew about her past with the two especially as he’s never asked during his visits. If he suspected that she did know them, he never let it show.
“Last I ‘eard they got chased out, at least those who didn’t betray their kin.” CHASED OUT?! How long have they lost control? Leandra turned to gaze at the door, trying to understand what she just heard.
“Chased out? How is that possible? There hasn’t been a change here, at least not a noticeable one.” Hearing this, she could hear Arthur hum in response. Perhaps they’ve doubled their efforts in the asylum, at the very least due to having two high value individuals within its walls. She may not have agreed with the good doctor, but Starrick couldn’t afford to lose his hold on the medical field in the city. Before their conversation could continue on, Leandra heard a crash outside the door.
“Arthur?! What’s going on out there?” Genuine concern sat in her voice, something she hadn’t felt since before her incarceration. Slowly approaching the door, she could hear a cocking sound before her guard spoke.
“Not sure miss, but nuttin’ you need to concern ‘urself with. Just read that book a’yours.” Sighing, his bravado was certainly a comfort. It wasn’t like she could provide much help within her cage anyhow. Stepping back, Leandra returned to her desk but before she could even open the book’s cover there was another crash. This time the sound was followed by Arthur’s barking voice. “The FUCK are you doing here?!” Drawing in a sharp breath, she looked around the room for a suitable hiding spot.
Since this was an asylum, it was understandable that her room was mostly bare. Though in cases such as this, it was a grand inconvenience. Remembering how the door opened reminded her that it swung inward, if whoever attacked Arthur came in she could potentially hide behind it and make an escape. Thinking quickly, Leandra grabbed her present and rushed to hide. Time was apparently not on her side as right as she hid, the door’s lock was being picked.
‘I hope Arthur’s okay. Only a Rook would warrant that kind of response from him.’ Covering her mouth, the door was unlocked and just as she thought the burglar entered her room. Thankfully, he didn’t need to open the door completely to enter and so he did not notice the other body that hid from his sight.
“Armed guard, Starrick must have something important stored here. Dr. Elliotson can wait.” Dr. Elliotson? So, she wasn’t his target, that was a tad reassuring. Tiptoeing from behind the door, Leandra was met with the back of a rather average sized male with a hood. While he hadn’t quite noticed her yet, she could not risk him turning around before she was fully out of the room and catching her. Bringing the thick tome above her head, she slammed the book as hard as she could down onto his head and appeared to stun him as she planned. Bolting out of the room, she heard a shout of anger right as she shut the door. Unfortunately for whoever it was, the doors look from the outside and once closed her door always locked itself without the use of a key.
Turning away from the other side of her cell door, Leandra spotted an unconscious Arthur a few steps away along with several other Blighters. Checking the man she had come to see as a friend, there was a steady pulse and his breathing appeared unimpeded. Releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, for a second Leandra contemplated what her next move was. The guards were down and whoever had broken into her cell was going to become a much larger issue soon if Dr. Elliotson was his target. This was the kind of opportunity she had prayed for. But what would happen once she leaves?
Her father was never one to let those under his thumb go without a fight. Yet, if he was losing control of the city then maybe could…get lost in it. While she had no prospects as a woman in London, Starrick had set up accounts in the past she could access for “frivolities” as he called them. That money could easily be used to set up a new life, whether it was in the city or not. Plus…there was her other friends in the city. Living with the assassins for the first ten years of life did not leave her completely without aid.
‘Now is the moment, alright time to go.’ Walking away from Arthur’s unconscious body, Leandra ran through the hall. Looking for an exit, it wasn’t until she found a stairwell with roof access that she managed to truly escape. Seeing a pile of hay at the bottom, she gathered the courage mentally before performing an eagle dive into the cart. Feeling the rush of air and the adrenaline that came from the free fall, when she jumped out and brushed herself off the rush propelled her. Calmly but quickly walking to the front gate, Leandra took her first steps out of the asylum a free woman.
Continuing on through the streets of London, it dawned on her that her clothes were the same ones she had been incarcerated in. Had she been there a night or two, that would be easy to explain away. Yet, three weeks was much less of an instance. ‘Which street am I on?’ Looking for a nearby sign, she was relieved to find that it was the very same one that her tailor was on. ‘Today must be a very lucky for me. Hopefully he’s open.’ Using muscle memory from the days where she would leave the asylum for a new coat or a fix on a skirt, it didn’t take very long for her to find Thimbles and Threads.
Entering the quaint shop, the shop keep stood at attention and smiled warmly at the sight of her. “Leandra! My dear, it has far too long since your last visit. Asylum keeping you busy? Here, let me have a look at you.” Gliding across the floor, her dear friend Michael gingerly took her hands and guided her to one of the fitting rooms. Helping her to step up onto a small platform, he did a full look at her wears and tusked at the state.
“When was the last time you had something new to wear? I swear, it looks you’ve worn this for the past week at least.” At this, Leandra gave a sheepish smile before speaking.
“Make that three. Oh Michael, it’s been awful. Father didn’t like what I had to say about paving my own way…so I might have spent a little time as a patient at the asylum and not a caretaker. Think you give me a hand?” The look on Michael’s face said it all when he heard her out. Over the following few hours, the two spoke on everything they’ve missed in each other’s lives the last few weeks. Once everything was said and done, Leandra offered to pay for his services, but Michael promptly and adamantly refused.
“You have been through hell my dear. Consider this a gift.” Placing a hand over her heart, if only the man wasn’t already wed. She would have kissed him right then and there.
“Well thank you, my dear friend. Now, do you know where I can find Mr. Dickens these days? I left something in his care and was hoping to retrieve it.” The man nodded his head, of course he did. As far as tailors go, the upper level of society chose from a select few. Thankfully for me, he was one of those.
“Aye, I believe you can find him at Devil’s Acre in West Minster. He claims it’s their ale, but there’s been talk of other things. You know how it goes.” Lightly chuckling, she understood very well what Michael implied. Shaking his hands, Leandra continued on her way through London. West Minster was where both her father and the leader of the Blighters dwelled, so she was certainly going to use great caution. But if she wished to retrieve her belongings, it was there she had to go.
Prior to her incarceration, tensions with her father had been building to a dangerous point. While she had no true clue has to the extent his was willing to go, something was brewing in his mind. The last time she saw Dickens he noticed her unease and offered a solution. Pack a trunk, one her father wouldn’t take note of, and leave it with him at a pub. From there, he would hide for her. ‘Dickens, you wonderfully chaotic mind.’ Hailing a cab with ease, the quick journey to the Devil’s Acre was a quiet one.
Once she reached the tavern however, the peace of the day ended as the slow roar of revelry reached her ears. ‘Hopefully none of the other guards from Lambeth are here.’ Keeping her head down as she entered, it felt as though her presence was greatly…unnoticed. Which made looking for Dickens that much easier, adding to the fact that he was probably the only classy gentleman in the place. Gingerly snagging the seat next to him, the poor man nearly choked on his ale at the sight.
“*cough* Leandra! Dear girl it has been many a night since I last saw you. Did you receive the book I sent you? Arthur promised he would bring it to you.” Covering the laugh that escaped, she nodded her head and gestured to him with said book in hand.
“He did, haven’t had the chance to read it quite yet. It makes a very good weapon of defense. Thank you for finding a way to get it to me.” The old man chuckled and took a sip of his ale, without choking this time.
“So, our mutual friend was tight-lipped on your whereabouts. Were you right to be cautious?” Leandra nodded her head, unperturbed by Dickens’ sudden serious tone. For the pair, it had been a month since their last conversation. Dickens had been someone outside of her father’s circle that she could speak freely with. So, it was not difficult to understand his worry for her after disappearing for three whole weeks.
“I was, despite your usual joyful demeanor, you were right about him. He placed me in Lambeth, a few days after we spoke. I managed to get out but without the things I gave you, it shan’t be long before he throws me back in and walks away with the key. Where is it?” Speaking in hushed tones, Leandra began to feel the gazes of others on her back. Devil’s Acre was not a place to linger for long, and both knew this.
“The prize you seek,” Dickens paused as he took another sip, “lies amongst oddities galore, which could not be further from the river’s shore.” A moment passed and Leandra had her answer. Henry Green’s curio shop. The belongings of the Templar Grandmaster’s daughter are with the one assassin in all of London…clever move. Tipping her head, Leandra slipped out as silently as she had entered. While she could hail a cab once again, the chance of being spotted by a Blighter as she waited was too high here. Instead, she chose to stalk the side alleys for an unabandoned carriage whose owner was too drunk to care where it might be.
Thankfully, it did not take very long around Devil’s Acre just nearby. Procuring her mode of transport, it was easy to move through the streets as she attempted to remain as unnoticed by Blighters as possible. Reaching Whitechapel within the hour, there was a sharp change in scenery from the Whitechapel she remembered. Men and women walked the streets but instead of Starrick’s red coats, they wore dark green plaid. Children played in the streets instead of slaving away in factories. People here appeared…happier? The sky remained the same dreary hue as in the rest of London, yet the people around didn’t seem to mind as much.
‘Maybe the Rooks are what London needs. Certainly appear to do more good than harm.’ Driving the carriage until she was a few blocks from the shop, it seemed like a good idea to leave it there. Certainly would not want someone mistaking her for a Blighter sent to hurt Mr. Green. Once she reached the shop, Leandra noticed the unburnt candles and seeming desertion. Had Henry left London? Why would he leave his shop unattended?
‘No matter, just need to get my things and leave. Starrick likely knows of my absence by now.’ Going around to the back of the shop, she was pleased to know the spare key was still where she had been shown in the past. Unlocking the door, Leandra scoured the shop and managed to find her chest amongst Mr. Green’s personal things. Opening the chest with ease, certainly helped that it wasn’t latched by a true “key” but a puzzle, she was on the verge of opening it when a chime was heard behind her.
Did someone see her? Leandra didn’t notice any lingering eyes on her walk here, or any carriages that possibly followed her. Stepping away from her chest, she spotted a nearby armoire that was not against the wall. Quickly squeezing herself behind it, luck must have once again been on her side for as soon as she was secure there was the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Who’s in here? I saw you through the window. I don’t think Greenie would be happy someone is going through his things.” Greenie? Did the voice mean Henry? Leandra held her breath as the voice grew closer. She couldn’t leave the chest open, regardless of this person’s potential friendship with Green. The floorboards creaked as he stepped in front of the armoire and in a split second, she recognized a chance to flee. Using the wall as a grounding force, she toppled the furniture onto the man. Hopefully it would only render him incapacitated for as long as she needed.
Racing back to the chest, she grabbed whatever she could and fled through the front door. In her haste, the only thing she could get her hands on were papers from her father’s study. While there were other things of value, these just might have been the most important to her. As she fled, the voice called out again in rage for her to come back. Strangely enough, she recognized the voice this time…the same one she heard back in the asylum. Certainly it wasn’t the same person from before, right?
No matter, for now the next stop was Bishopsgate station. Green may not have been in his shop but that doesn’t mean she had to stay and wait for him. Right now, her best move would be to return to Crawley. While she had no intentions of joining the assassins in their fight, these papers from Starrick might be enough to grant her safe passage to America or Europe…or literally anywhere other than here.
Easily making it to the station, the next train to Crawley wasn’t set until for several hours. ‘Unfortunate, but I don’t mind waiting.’ Finding a seat by the tracks, Leandra thumbed through the documents. If she was going to be carrying these around, it wouldn’t hurt to know what she had in her possession. The first few were nothing of consequence, however the further in she went the more crucial they appeared to be. Contacts, debts owed, and locations of owned businesses were in her hand. Somehow she seems to have snagged a literal treasure trove of documents. No wonder her father was adamant of her return to the fold, he likely knew what she had taken and wanted it back.
‘Well…shit. What have you gotten yourself into Leandra?’ Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to be lost in thought as time ticked by. Trains came and went, and it became a game for her to make up stories to keep herself entertained about their lives. Whilst doing this, Leandra hadn’t noticed a certain figure slump next to her until he groaned. Keeping her head still whilst stealing a glance, there was something recognizable about the man she couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was someone she had run into at the asylum during her rounds, he certainly fit the description of a Lambeth asylum patient. Before she could steal anymore glances, a woman approached the man and chuckled at his appearance.
“Tired brother? And here I thought you were the brawn of us.” Wait a moment, that snark. Leandra remembered it well, only when they were children it was much more high-pitched.
“Yes sister, having a wardrobe fall on someone would do well to tire them out.” The man hissed out, oh shit. Had she pushed it onto him of all people?! Looking out onto the tracks, she risked another look at the pair beside her. Seeing them together, it was undeniable. Despite the years, she would recognize the Frye twins anywhere. So many questions filled her head at this realization. What were they doing in London? Did they know Mr. Green? Could they help her?
Before she could speak out, Evie spoke. “Ah, was that before or after being hit in the head with a book at Lambeth?” That was him too? Oh god, she had a lot of apologizing to do for today.
“Hey, I at least finished the job. Damn nutter got the jump on me. Besides, someone was in Greenie’s shop. Figured he should know some trunk was opened. Whoever it was wanted something. I don’t know what, but it was probably important.” At hearing this, she looked down and gripped the papers tightly. Either Jacob or Evie must have noticed her action as the two shifted to whispers, none of which she could hear. Good Lord has today been a long day. Leandra became consumed by her thoughts, embarrassed at the fact she had not only hurt the same man twice but both instances had been one of her TWO childhood friends all for the sake of survival. Was it worth it?!
Before she could answer herself, a pair of shadows loomed over her. Shifting her gaze, it was of course the twins standing over her. Evie was thankfully the first to speak, always being the more…socially polite. “Excuse me, my brother and I couldn’t help but notice how tightly you’re holding onto those papers. Mind if we see them?” She didn’t recognize her, how could she? It had been eleven years since they had seen each other. Taking a deep breath, Leandra steeled herself before answering.
“I would actually. They’re for a friend, he was holding on to them for me. I wouldn’t suppose you know him, Mr. Henry Green? I was hoping to give them to him.” She had to act unbothered. The twins she remembered were always quick to action, even if Evie was one to know more than her brother beforehand. Speaking firmly, she noticed how Jacob became defensive.
“And how do you know Greenie?” He growled the name, as if itching for a fight. Shit, this was not how she wanted this to go. However, before she could explain a train pulled into the station as if in the nick of time…with Henry Green hopping out. Honestly, something was working hard in her favor today.
“Leandra! You’re okay. When Dickens dropped off your trunk I thought something had happened.” Practically jumping to her feet, Leandra was happy to see her friend.
“Henry. God you have perfect timing. Here,” she held out the stack of papers in her hand as he approached the three of them, “I need you to take this. And I have to ask a favor if you can help me.” Evie and Jacob parted as Henry walked up. Gingerly taking the papers from her, he peered over them and as he realized what she was giving him his eyes bulged.
“Leandra, how did you get these?” Of course that was his first question. She had never told him about Starrick, why would she when the two were staunch enemies? Though, she supposed now was as good a time as any.
“They’re from my father’s desk, or better yet Crawford Starrick’s. There is much to discuss but I’d rather not do it here. Please Henry.” Her gaze turned to pleading as she looked at him. While they may not be in Blighter territory, the more time she spent outside, the higher her risk of being found.
The twins, still present, shared a look before turning to Mr. Green. It would appear her safety was in his hands. However, it would appear that he valued their friendship. Taking a deep breath, he looked to Evie and nodded his head. “Come Leandra, you’ll be safe on the train. After we’re aboard you can tell us everything.” Adamantly nodding her head, the trio turned to the train that had yet to leave the station and headed towards it. Leandra followed behind, hopeful for what was to come.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sception Reads Cass Cain #29
Robin (1993) #86 writer: Ed Brubaker art: Jacob & Arnold Pander
Birds of Prey (1999) #27 writer: Chuck Dixon pencils: N. Steven Harris
Catwoman (1993) #90 writer: Bronwyn Carlton pencils: Mike Lilly
Last time we looked at Batgirls sort of stand alone tie in to the Officer Down crossover, which ended with Cass abandoning her solo detective efforts on the case to meet up with the rest of the clan. This time we see her showing up as a side character in the crossover proper, already in progress. She doesn't have too big a role in things, though, so I think it's fair to cram her remaining Officer Down appearances into a single post.
Robin 86 covers the bat crew learning about Gordon being shot and collecting at the hospital to comfort Babs and start to plan. Batman gets real grumpy about it, attacking a random thug when he first hears about Gordon, hitting Dick when he tries to hold Bruce back, and then just brooding over Gordon's unconscious body while the rest are sent out to actually catch the shooter.
Cass is there for some of that, but not really saying or doing too much, so we're mostly looking at the art. Iirc, the Pander Bros are new artists to this retrospective. So how's their Cass?
Remember last time how I mentioned how depicting cass as a shadowy silhouette or trying to convey how she moves was more effective at making her spooky and intimidating than emphasizing the stitches in her mask or just giving her an angry face or whatever? This is the kind of stuff I was talking about there. Not enough to have stitches over the mouth, the Panders make her entire suit stitched together, like Catwoman in Batman Returns. They also drop her chunky yellow utility belt - and frequently also the yellow bat-symbol on her chest, though that might be a colorist issue.
I don't think they do a bad job exactly, apart from their super angular cartoony style not really clicking with me, but that's an aesthetic preference, not a judgment on quality. But the lack of facial expression in their Cass really hurts here.
I mean, at least there's some body language & physicality put into comforting Babs here, and it's nice that Babs looks to Cass in this one panel/moment here.
And I also like this bit, where Cass is the first to notice that Bruce is already in the room with Jim.
...
So Catwoman was seen at the scene where Gordon was shot, and they were feuding recently, so she's the prime suspect even if gun murder isn't really her style. The bat crew, minus Bruce, try to track her down, eventually leading to them interrupting a museum heist, but it turns out to be Harley Quinn running interference for Selina.
I like N. Steven Harris's general style more than the Panders, but he makes some weird decisions with Cass.
Combat Heels? Really?
This is a writing thing, so more on Dixon than Harris again, but...
has the memo not yet gotten around that Cass can talk now? She could just ask 'where is Catwoman'?
are we supposed to believe she can write the word 'woman' but not the word 'cat'? The cat part she has to draw?
This is kind of silly and ridiculous.
Mostly she's just kind of standing around in group shots in this one, and she looks fine.
The only real character beat Cass gets in this one is this extra and unnecessary kick at Harley Quinn at the end. Kind of mean spirited, which doesn't exactly fit Cass's usual character, but she's frustrated and her friend is hurting so I can't exactly say lashing out like this is exactly out of character either.
...
The last issue with Harley Quinn was mostly just spinning wheels to spread the crossover to one more title, Catwoman 90 actually advances the plot with the crew tracking Selina down, capturing her, and getting her version of the story - that another cop shot the commissioner.
Is Mike Lilly also a new artist for Cass? 3 for 3 new artists this week? I probably like his version of Batgirl the best out of the three today, but it does suffer noticeably from 'only knows how to draw one body type for female characters' syndrome.
It's a cute line I guess, but Selina has met Cass before. They had a whole little side adventure.
That's-not-Cass body measurements aside, Lilly does a great job of portraying just how athletic and acrobatic Cass is in just a few panels, how overwhelming her skill is in a physical confrontation. Selina pretty easily slipped past Dick, Tim, and Jean-Paul before this, but she just can't shake Cass.
Later on Cass is also the one who retrieves the shooter's gun from the vent Selina stowed it in:
Nice to see her and Jean-Paul working together in a nod to some of the No Man's Land stuff.
....
Overall three new artistic takes on Cass-Batgirl, and while I have my gripes about each none of them are bad exactly. It's nice that she's here for the crossover event, not left out entirely, and the writing teams remember enough of her character that she's making a show of consoling Barbara, or just naturally teaming up with Jean-Paul. It's also nice that she's treated as the most physically adept member of the bat team.
On the other hand, I'm not sure word has gotten around that she can talk now? The whole point of making her able to talk was so that she didn't fall into the vaguely racial trope of the silent faceless ninja, but that's still very much the role she's filling here.
I'd also mentioned earlier in discussing No Man's Land and more broadly the characterization of Bruce at the time kind of fell into a recurring rut. Something bad would happen that would remind Bruce of how little control he really had over the random injustice of the world, something that would put him back in the headspace of that little boy watching his parents murdered in front of him, and in response he would emotionally seize up and push his surrogate family away, only to later re-(re-re-re-)learn that he can't just do everything on his own and isolating himself only makes things worse and found family is good and he needs to rely on his friends, etc etc.
Officer Down is the start of another of these cycles, and while Gordon survives his injuries, he does retire. And Bruce's behavior towards the others while he's afraid Gordon will die is obnoxious enough that Alfred quits? To teach him a lesson by isolating him? Seems suspect, but whatever. Bruce just in general gets more grumpy and obnoxious for a while in a way that feels pretty repetitive with No Mans Land, a rut that continues to repeat going forward well after the writers seem to have tired of it.
And as a Cass fan it's kind of frustrating, because, again, her entire character concept was designed in dialog with exactly this version of Bruce, and the arc that it felt at the time she was building towards would have given the writers a natural way to write Bruce out of this rut.
It sort of writes itself - something happends that forces Bruce to acknowledge Cass's murder - maybe she finally breaks down and confesses it to him directly. He doesn't take it well, it leads to conflict between them, expanding out into conflict with the rest of the team. Eventually this conflict forces Bruce and Cass to confront and overcome their internalized guilt issues together, probably while physically fighting each other. The resolution of this forces Bruce to acknowledge that it's unprocessed guilt - not anger - that's been driving him to push everyone away. In offering Cass the forgiveness she needs he also learns to forgive himself, and comes out of the whole thing as more mellow and better-socially-adjusted batman, one who at the very least turns to his found family in a crisis instead of always reflexively pushing them away.
Bits and pieces of this narrative show up here and there going forward, but the whole arc never really coalesces. And while eventually there was a shift to a less grumpy and self-isolating Batman, I don't remember any particular catharsis bringing him to that point - though to be fair I wouldn't have seen it if it didn't involve Cass, so *shrug*.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Image of Anti-Irish Propaganda
The Image of Irelande, with a Discoverie of Woodkarne by John Derricke published in 1581 claims to be a description of "the wilde men in Ireland" accompanied by an account of Turlough Luineach Ó Neill "submitting himselfe to the right honorable Syr Henry Sydney." The book includes 12 woodcut illustrations that are sometimes used by historical costumers as references for 16th century Irish clothing. I strongly believe that using these illustrations as a source on Irish dress history should be avoided,* so I am making a post to explain why.
John Derricke was an Englishman who was trying to make the Irish look bad (ie creating anti-Irish propaganda). In The Image of Irelande, he maligned Irish culture and praised English military victory over the Irish. He described the Irish as "as honest as the devill," and "constant like the wavering winde." He specifically called Ruaidhrí Óg Ó Mórdha (spelled Rorie Oge) "that famous archtraitor to God." (text here) Someone who was trying to defame the Irish with his text was probably doing the same with his illustrations.
Irish antiquarian William Wilde did not consider Derricke's illustrations a reliable source for Irish dress history either. Writing for the Royal Irish Academy in 1863, he commented, "The caricatures attached to Derricke’s doggerel 'Image of Ireland,' written in 1578, apparently pander to the worst tastes of the times of Sydney, Morrison, and Spenser, are not of much value as specimens of the costume of the 'Irish Wood-Kearne;' they were drawn to ridicule." (source p. 322)
Many details of Irish dress in Derricke's illustrations don't match what is shown in other 16th c sources. This is the most obvious with the long linen tunic called the léine and the short jacket called the ionar. Derricke portrayed the léine as mid-thigh length with a flaring, pleated or gathered skirt and a deep center-front opening with a wide lapel.
Other period sources show the léine as a knee-length or ankle-length garment with a voluminous body that is belted in at the waist. Some show a deep center-front opening or a small collar, but none have a front that looks like a modern bathrobe.
Derricke's purpose in making these changes may have been to shock and appall his readers with how immodest (according to English sensibilities) Irish fashion was. The exaggerated collar/lapel helps emphasize the kerns' bare chests. (Typical English menswear of the time included a long-sleeved, high-collared doublet over a shirt, paired with hose or breeches and stockings, an outfit that hid most of the wearer's skin.)
Derricke portrays the ionar as having skirts that stand out from the wear's body like an Elizabethan neck ruff.
Images by other artists show the ionar with skirts made of knife pleats that lay relatively flat to the body, like those of the extant kilcommon ionar:
In making the ionar's skirts look like a ruff, Derricke might have been attempting to make the Irish look vain and foolish. Ruffs were made by cartridge-pleating long strips of linen to a neck band. To obtain their characteristic, gravity-defying figure 8 shape, they had to be heavily starched and shaped with a tool similar to a curling iron. Ruffs were time consuming, both to make and to maintain, making the idea of wearing one around your waist while raiding a farm or fighting a battle frivolous and impractical.
Finally, the illustrations aren't even consistent with each other in their details. Derricke apparently couldn't decide whether the crest on the chieftain's hat was supposed to be fur (plate 1) or a palm frond? (plates 3 and 4):
*There are some items for which we don't have a better visual source, so I can understand people using it as a reference for things like Irish horse saddles.
Additional sources:
Arnold, Janet, Tiramani, J., & Levey, S. (2008). Patterns of Fashion 4. Macmillan, London.
Arnold, Janet (1985). Patterns of Fashion 3. Macmillan, London.
Dunlevy, Mairead (1989). Dress in Ireland. B. T. Batsford LTD, London.
McClintock, H. F. (1943). Old Irish and Highland Dress. Dundalgan Press, Dundalk.
McClintock, H. F. (1953). Some Hitherto Unpublished Pictures of Sixteenth Century Irish People, and the Costumes Appearing in Them. The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, 83(2), 150-155. https://www.jstor.org/stable/25510871
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oni Double Feature 12 Issue Lot (1998-1999) by Oni Press
2 (February 1998) Written and drawn by Shannon Wheeler, Paul Pope, Arnold Pander, Jacob Pander.
3 (March 1998) Written and drawn by Judd Winick, Troy Nixey, Paul Pope
4 (April 1998) Written and drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz, Troy Nixey, Mike Allred
5 (May 1998) "Zombie Kid, Part 1" written & drawn by Jim Mahfood, "Double Feature" written & drawn by Ed Brubaker, "A River in Egypt, Part Two" written & drawn by Bill Sienkiewicz
6 (June 1998) Written and drawn by various.
7 (July 1998) Written and drawn by Neil Gaiman, P. Craig Russell, Brian Sendelbach, C. Scott Morse
8 (April 1998) Written and drawn by Neil Gaiman, P. Craig Russell, Jon Lewis, Tom Hart, Dave Cooper, Gavin McInnes
9 (October 1998) Written and drawn by Judd Winick, Jon Lewis, Tom Hart, Eric Shanower
10 (December 1998) Written and drawn by Steve Purcell, Steven Seagle, Jan Solheim, Judd Winick
11 (February 1999) Written and drawn by Chynna Clugston-Major, Steven Seagle, Jan Solheim, Stan Sakai
12 (May 1999) Written and drawn by Kevin Smith, Paul Dini, Mike Allred, Tom Fowler, Sergio Aragonés
13 (September 1999) Written and drawn by Paul Dini, Chynna Clugston-Major Barry Caldwell, Stephen DeStefano, Tom Fowler
#Oni Double Feature#Oni Press#1998#1999#Indie Comics#Shannon Wheeler#Paul Dini#Kevin Smith#Jim Mahfood#Etsy#Vintage Comics#Comic Books#Comics#Judd winick#P Craig Russell#Neil Gaiman#Bill Sinkiewicz
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tales of the Rays has been down for almost an entire day. I'm going BALLISTIC. Please send me your funniest dog images please and thank you. Extra points if you write a story about Alyssa Edwards, famous drag queen, meeting a cat named Arnold outside of a Waffle House. XOXO
[NB: a lot of the humor in this section is pretty subtle. If you don't recognize a lot of these references, this may not be for you]
Alyssa pedals through the woods at the edge of the complex. It's still light out, though there are clouds on the horizon.
Last night, she and Phaedra had looked up the various apocalypse theories that had risen from the ashes of "Project Orion." Looks like the actual end of the world will come a little sooner than some had hoped.
First, though, an apocalypse of pandering, with just a dash of holocaust for flavor.
Alyssa pedals through the woods, blasting out a few bars of song and then listening as nothing happens, then listening to some more, then pedaling harder and singing louder.
After all, as the experts say, if you can't be happy being yourself, you might as well dance!
Alyssa pulls out her cellphone and calls her sister again. There's no answer. This is starting to be a worrying trend.
"Sarah," she says, "I need to know. What is your pasta preference? Lasagna or manicotti? Inquiring minds want to know."
Manicotti. She's totally going to say manicotti. She has to say manicotti.
Her phone buzzes. She's buzzing her sister. "Sarah? Where are you? What are you doing? Are you with Josh?"
She gets a text message back.
"I'm cheating on my husband with a robot."
It's this kind of thing that makes Alyssa eternally grateful she doesn't really know how to use her cellphone.
She would be spamming everyone she knows with selfies of the cat. "Please come help. I'm being held hostage. Can someone come break me free? This is an emergency."
Where is the car?
She makes it to the fence, looks at the map, and realizes the problem is that the car is the opposite direction.
At least she's still got her bike. Phaedra can wait.
She pedals back, in a hurry. Phaedra just waved at her as she left. She didn't seem to be too worried about her. She'd just said, "Alyssa, if you really are going to a church service, just put on one of those outfits I made you. I will provide a fashion consultation by the end of the afternoon. Now I will work on your ramen."
Alyssa idly pedals, almost missing a turn. A cat is sitting on the road. It's big, orange, and friendly. It waves its paw.
"Hi, cat," Alyssa says, and waves back. The cat moves towards her.
Alyssa has heard of being held hostage in churches, but this is even stranger.
"What's your name, cat?"
The cat looks at her, blinks, and says: "Arnold."
Which is the sort of thing a human would say, except, at least in the way she says it, feline. It's more like a giggle.
"What are you doing here, Arnold?"
"Hiding," says the cat. "I'm really not supposed to talk to people."
Another weird thing. The cat can't possibly be as old as its voice sounds.
Alyssa checks her watch. "How old are you?"
"I feel like I've been stuck here for about ten years," says the cat.
"When was that?"
"Sometime after my nose fell off, probably."
Alyssa realizes she should go back to the house. But then she thinks, Fine. I'll just tell her I got lost. I'll tell her the bike lost a gear, or something. This is hardly a crime. She'll understand, I'm sure.
And yet . . .
And yet she thinks of what Phaedra said a few hours ago. Of the last thing she said, as Alyssa was wheezing for breath and calling her over and over. Of how, once Alyssa was back on her feet, she'd started spouting statistics and figures, and had only seemed really worried when Alyssa mentioned that she was going to a church service.
Even then, she seemed to have some . . . qualms about it.
Alyssa doesn't want to have qualms about going to church, because she wants to go to church. But she's never been a very religious person. She's gone to church with her grandma, but she doesn't really remember much about it. It's not the sort of thing she can have strong feelings about.
"Is there something you want to talk about, Arnold?"
The cat seems to tilt its head. Alyssa's not sure if that's exactly what's happening.
"I have a body," the cat says.
The cat sounds like it's giggling again, though this time it's . . . melancholy.
"Oh. You have a body. That's . . . um. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say."
The cat seems to be speaking to Alyssa, but somehow she feels as if it's speaking to the cat. As if the cat is being a cat, and also having a conversation with a human, and it feels bizarrely complicated.
Is that just the cat talking to itself?
It can't be. It isn't, Alyssa thinks. "You're not supposed to be talking to people. Is there something I can do to help?"
After a pause, the cat says: "You can ask me about Josh. Joshua. He's a good guy."
This seems like an obvious case of a cat talking to itself. The cat doesn't know what a cat is supposed to talk like. Alyssa used to have a very old and very confused cat who she loved very much. She remembers all the weird things it would say, in its squeaky old-lady voice. She remembers the time it ate its own toy, and then looked at her expectantly, to ask if it could have that toy back. She had given it back. She'd given it back when it wasn't even sure what it was talking about.
This is that cat.
But Alyssa wonders. If this isn't that cat, how did that cat even sound? And if this cat is really talking to itself, why is it having such a conversation with her? She could just play along, but . . .
She's sort of gotten the impression that the cat has a sort of secret.
But if there is a secret, then the cat's secret is a secret about itself. Which seems like a sort of scary thought.
Alyssa thinks of asking the cat about her sister, but something stops her.
She thinks about asking what Joshua is, but thinks of how Phaedra told her about how the cat had once been a huge fluffball, and that it liked walking on a cat tower.
And then she thinks about what it was like to be in the house last night, what it was like to be with Phaedra when Phaedra had been a cat, and not a woman.
She had heard a similar story from her father. A few months before her mom had died, her dad had sat at the kitchen table, drinking orange juice and reading the newspaper. She'd asked why he never came to her dance recitals, and he'd said he was sorry, he was working, he'd had a lot to do at work that day, but he'd tried to get there.
Alyssa had thought his work must have been awfully important, since she'd been the only person on the stage. He'd missed most of the show, but had been there at the end.
Though, looking back on it, that had been kind of weird, wasn't it?
Alyssa isn't sure. She has a feeling there's something she doesn't understand.
So she says, "I would like to talk about Joshua. I would like to talk about where you come from. I would like to know who Joshua is."
"Joshua," says the cat, "is a man
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
October 1987. After completing the story of Hunter Rose, the first Grendel, in DEVIL BY THE DEED, Matt Wagner launched a new Comico series, beginning with a 12-part storyline called "Devil's Legacy," about Christine Spar, Hunter Rose's granddaughter and the putative author of Devil by the Deed. After her son Anson is kidnapped by Tujiro, a fey and rather sinister kabuki star, Christine adopts Hunter Rose's Grendel guise and weaponry and sets out to rescue or avenge Anson, in the process discovering her own appetite for violence and revenge — and learning that neither the police nor her grandfather's old enemy Argent have forgotten about Grendel. Illustrated in a flashy, obviously manga-influenced style by the Pander Bros., Arnold & Jacob Pander, "Devil's Legacy" is, in my estimation, the only really emotionally compelling one of Wagner's many Grendel sagas. The pulpy, rather lurid, ultimately tragic story meshes better than you'd expect with the Panders' stylized, cartoony artwork, and the focus on Christine's complex inner life gives "Devil's Legacy" a punch that neither the intriguing but cold DEVIL BY THE DEED nor Wagner's elaborate but strangely uninvolving far-future Grendel sagas can match.
#comics#grendel#matt wagner#pander bros#comico#christine spar#vampires and werewolves and cyberpunk oh my
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
I agree! Yes, children’s media can have deeper meaning, and have adult jokes, and things like that (Gravity Falls and Steven Universe are good examples). But consuming media only meant for younger audiences, and then EXPECTING things to be like children’s media, is harmful.
Personally, I prefer children’s (or teen) media. Not because I can’t digest more complex storylines, but because I like animation as a medium, and there happens to be more animated kids content. But I do like Tuca and Bertie, Rick and Morty, and even the occasional Simpsons. But I do like live-action shows! I just watch them less often. Big Bang Theory, Little Women, Hercule Poirot (or literally any live remake of Agatha Christie’s books), Rosemary and Thyme…I love that shit!
Anyway, I feel like this is part of a much larger issue — the lines between what is appropriate for one age and what is appropriate for another is constantly being blurred.
Because companies want things to be as marketable as possible, they censor the shit out of things, especially with children’s media. Which leads to more and more children’s shows looking like walking dolls (so the designs are sellable) with lessons spoon-fed to the younger audience.
Compare this to, say, Arnold. It was full of deep meanings, metaphors, blink-and-you-miss-it information, and full characters that act like real kids. I feel like many of the stuff that it showed (or alluded to) would not be green-lit. And it certainly isn’t very marketable, even as popular as it is.
With the maturity of kid’s shows going backward, this leads to a ripple effect where adult shows are becoming less mature. Toilet humor, constant violence, sex, simple values…it’s all to become more marketable, relatable, and digestible to the masses.
Now let’s get to fandom. Because both adult and children’s shows are getting less complex/mature, this can go one of two directions. Either people try to make up for it by making their own more complex fan-canon, or they completely buy into what the show is selling, as well as take those ideas into other media that they watch.
The latter crowd hasn’t done anything wrong — it’s just that, with both children’s media and adult media having a lot of the same archetypes, values, relationships, and cliches, what’s the difference?
And with a lot of children’s cartoons having better plot lines, lessons, inclusion, and characters, why the FUCK would you want to watch any current adult content? Why watch “Sitcom About White Man With Minority Girlfriend #6” when you can watch Gravity Falls? Or Amphibia? Or Adventure Time? Or Teen Titans?
This makes sense, because children and teens actually need to have a reason to watch. If they feel pandered to, or that there isn’t any effort put in, then they turn it off.
But adults are tired. Adults have jobs. Adults can’t spend all day searching for a good show to watch. So, usually, they pick whichever one they can, and whatever they can easily digest as they drift off to sleep on the couch after their double shift. Or at least, that’s how the market sees them.
Which means children’s shows are usually better produced, have more creativity, and more inclusion.
But these are still CHILDREN’S shows, you understand. Which means that, even in all their complexity, they still have messaging made for a younger audience. Yes, some can be enjoyed by all ages, but that doesn’t mean that they still don’t have a pin-pointed age group.
So a bunch of adults, who want more complex shows, turn to children’s media. However, since it isn’t for them, they either complain about the lack of adult themes, or their idea of how stories are told is completely skewed.
So with a mixture of children’s shows being censored to fuck, shows for a younger audience being more enjoyable than the ones for an older audience, and crappy adult shows being pushed out like litter after litter of lame runts, the downward spiral of comprehension and maturity in media makes sense.
This also leads to it being more difficult to tell what is appropriate for children to watch, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms.
But that doesn’t mean that people in the fandom aren’t partly at fault here. You do still need to think about what you are consuming, realize that there is some media that wasn’t made for you, and that stories and characters cannot always be sorted into specific archetypes (and sometimes it can be damaging to the work you are consuming if you think that way).
However, there is a lot of moving parts here.
I honestly think the epidemic of adults who refuse to engage with media not made for children is having never been taught to have patience with a story or to reflect on what it’s trying to tell you, art appreciation is very much a learned skill you have to train. I *understand* the appeal of easy to digest media but unfortunately you cannot get past any concepts deeper than surface level without some level of analysis which is not expected in younger audiences.
This isn’t to say that children’s media can never tell good or enjoyable stories I think they absolutely can but if you only consume children’s media you will miss out on the full spectrum of ideas story telling can offer. And I think an unwillingness to engage with media you do not have to learn or be patient with has lead to the achetypification of fandom spaces, many people no longer feel deep connections to a particular character but rather a flavour of blorbo which is leading to a stagnation of fandom interpretation of characters also, as rather than taking time to consume and digest media the most basic category of type of character is being applied instead.
This recent emergence in fandom is what I feel is leading to the extremely prevalent treatment of any character as “sad tragic backstory man” “too pure cinnamon roll” and “bitch woman” as the only thing a character in media can ever be foregoing any nuanced themes or morality in a way that actively discourages having any interesting thoughts about a character or story.
TL;DR fandom spaces are becoming stagnant because many people are unwilling to digest media and instead skim for an archetype they enjoy and apply that instead.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Terminator Ranking
I'm not as big of a Terminator fan as your average bear but I've come to appreciate the franchise and have finally reached seeing all of them so I figured, why not rank them.
Salvation- I wanted to see this for a long time, ever since it came out despite never having seen a Terminator film yet but when I learned that it wasn't everything it was cracked up to be, I got scared because I had this ideal vision for it. How could it be bad? I finally saw it as a second to last movie and I think it boils down to direction. That opening is great but the rest is meh af. It should feel satisfying to see a giant Terminator get blown up at a gas station and the protags run away in a truck but it just doesn't. It's too dull of a look, Kyle and Sam- I mean! Marcus have a kind of dumb side thing going on. It's just the delivery of it all and their relationships to each other, too much centered on the wrong stuff.
3: Rise of the Machines- I barely even remember this one but people have clamored for a proper sequel to 2 all this time that they've actually gone back and inspected this one saying it's the best sequel which is funny how much they settled. From what I remember, it panders to try and give you little stuff to keep you entertained, here's a new model, here's Arnold for a minute, here's- is this Robocop? This reminds me more of Robocop than Terminator, I like Robocop too but it just goes weird after 2 (go figure) I just don't care to watch it again and see what else is wrong with it. I'm sure I forgot it for a reason.
Dark Fate - Terminator: Leave You In The Dark. A lot of it is pointless, inflating its runtime, it's like it introduces all these ideas to you and they go through each and every last resort. You're not as stupid as it likes to think, yeah, she's some resistance person, big whoop, I could've told you that in the intro but they use that as the big twist? It doesn't justify itself, it has a few good action scenes but those are mostly at the beginning anyway so why bother?
1- A good base, more driven on horror with a clear motivator and villain. It's a weird romance plot for today's standards so it's definitely an 80s B movie but that's a little of its charm, I suppose.
2: Judgement Day- People claim this is the best, not just for Terminator but for movies in general and yeah, it's fun and it has a lot going on. What's weird is that James Cameron took the more horror centric Alien and make the action-oriented Aliens which was great but had trouble building off of that and then took his own horror centric Terminator and made the more action based T2 and had trouble building off of that. So maybe it's changing the formula too much, maybe it's only meant to be done once, maybe Cameron should see his trilogies through, I don't know. It curses too much though, I get John's a delinquent but stop it Cameron, it's unneeded for all your movies.
Genisys- Ha! Gotcha! People hate this one, even the people in it. But me? It's a guilty pleasure. You see, I saw this and thought it was an average movie at best, so trust me, I get it, but the more I sat on it, the more I thought about it, the more it stuck in my head and had my favorite stuff. I mean, it does so pretty logically, expanding on Kyle's character, though he's not perfect, we get a modernized update to the romantic elements by giving them a choice. Bringing back a younger Sarah but just as experienced with good guy T800 so we don't lose too much, a sort of Sarah Connor Chronicles if you will.
As a sequel, yeah, it sucks, and as a reboot, it copies a good bit but it might just do it in a better way of what it copies. Best of both worlds. But as a spinoff, it's great because it sets itself apart and makes use of the "failures" before it by calling them alternate futures since we strayed away from the "straight line" and now everything's on the fritz, so it keeps us guessing what's actually going to happen. It keeps itself contained so it doesn't really need a sequel. The acting isn't on par but I'd follow Emilia Clarke into a drowning river. I recognize the goofy things this movie offers but at least they're memorable. The funniest is when Kyle is in the clothing store while the T1000 is stomping around and he peeks around actually shopping, seeing a leather jacket he likes and takes it rather than just any clothes he can get then grabbing a pair of shoes, actually hopping on one foot to see if they fit his feet. Stomp stomp stomp, the T1000 walks past the dressing room and Kyle steps down with the Nike logo centered and branded. Hilarious product placement, I just gotta love it. That ending is kind of dumb where they revisit young Kyle, I see where they needed to make it all fit together but it's dumb. Give it a better battle on Cybertron- I mean, the future! like Salvation and you have a pretty entertaining romp.
0 notes
Text
It's a paradox
youtube
Well obviously the movie's canon is questionable at best, and Arnold was trying to trick Helga by manipulating her attraction to him to get her off guard, also Arnold is kind and generous to everyone, so no surprises there really, and I'm sure he would have hugged whoever gave him the hat.
I would just put this down to fan pandering and wishful thinking, if not for one crucial fact that blows this wide open.
Arnold's life is based on the life of a very real person, very loosely based of course, but if you look at their real life, there's some interesting comparisons.
Arnold is based on a former mob boss in California, and he notoriously had a very strange relationship with his wife.
The real "Arnold" on reaching a position of power, had manipulated a starlet into marrying him using blackmail, and as such she was very disapproving and antagonistic, however bizarrely enough they were somehow a good match.
Both were greedy and selfish with a predisposition to violence, but in that way they shared some sort of common ground.
To onlookers she appeared rather aloof and he appeared to act like a bully, but in reality he was kind of generous and that makes sense as to how he rose to power, and despite how she degraded and argued with him, they both really enjoyed each other's company, even if they didn't exactly interact with each other much.
i think they borrowed from the real life relationship as inspiration for the characters in the show, but seeing it from an outside perspective, they didn't quite understand it that well.
Bonnie and Clyde would be a closer comparison.
In the end, authorities managed to separate the two, claiming to the public that they'd "freed" her, but after she refused to rat her lover out to the cops, publicly mentioning the police chief's lack of manhood, she was later found dead in her apartment, officially having shot herself from 10 feet away.
why that's not suspicious at all.
also not suspicious is number of police officers in that district that mysteriously died at the same time, and the several bullet casings that were found in the gutter.
wouldn't surprise me if she went out with a bang tbh, she had that Bette Davis mentality.
Well the cops blamed the crime boss for her death, then the police station blew up after he received the info, and then the crime boss disappeared, and a completely unrelated guy wearing the same clothes fell from the top of a building after being thrown off by a group of civilians that were dressed as cops, and 30 or so people shot themselves in the same building at the same time purely by coincidence or at least that's the official story.
0 notes
Photo
“The Room”
Triple X #6 (May 1995)
Arnold and Jacob Pander
Dark Horse Comics
#Triple X#Arnold Pander#Jacob Pander#Dark Horse Comics#Great Comics#Great Comic Art#Dollar Bin Finds#The Room
10 notes
·
View notes