Ah, crap!

Oh crap, another week, and another total failure to blog about anything on note. Instead I will ramble about several loosely related* items I have stumbled across on my travels through the interwebz.


Ben Templesmith, author and artist of Wormwood: Gentleman Corpse, artist on 30 Days Of Night, Fell and Welcome to Hoxton is appearing at the ICA on 24th November.

You can purchase tickets HERE.

Needless to say, we at You Look Like A Little Kid With A Beard f*cking love Mr. Templesmith, who manages to balance being a thoroughly nice chap with being talented and funny to boot. If you’ve even got a passing interest in comics go and buy Fell right now. This instant.

Funniest (comic related) Twitter account name has to be V_For_Vienetta. Maybe it’s because I’m on an Alan Moore trip at the moment. Maybe I’m just nostalgic for 80s deserts. Who can tell, or more to the point, care?

Those crazy folk over at Pornokitsch continue to churn out lots of highly amusing posts. Their review for Kell’s Legend by Angry Robot press is the funniest review I’ve read this year. Read it HERE, but only if your not easily offended… or a staff member at Angry Robot.

And finally, I have been hooked on a game called Defense Grid for the last month, which, combined with Halo 3: ODST, probably explains why I haven’t reviewed anything lately. Defense Grid is available through the Xbox Live website for a mighty 800 Microsoft points, that’s $10 in new money (or a whopping £6.11 in Sterling).

I have to say, at first glance I thought this Defense Grid was uninteresting, but the subtle mix of tactics and timing make it both maddening and hugely rewarding. Game play revolves around stopping marauding (but oddly cute) aliens from stealing power cores; this is done by building towers with a variety of weapons. Hidden Path have done a particularly good job of breathing life into a fairly simple game format. There is also some rather wonderful and quirky humour courtesy of the AI who keeps you company throughout the game.

Right, that’s all from me. See, I told you I wouldn’t write about Jan Moir or Nazi Nick Giffin this week, didn’t I?

*By 'loosely related' I, of course, mean 'nothing to do with each other whatsoever', apart from the fact they're all a bit geeky. So there.

'Gah!' And Indeed 'Ack!'

Bugger. It’s Friday and I haven’t posted this week. Apologies all.

I’ve been ill, which means sitting at home, drinking Lemsip and black coffee and failing to get any sort of decent sleep.

So what’s new? Well, the first draft of the novel is finished. I’m over half way through doing the second draft, or ‘pass’ or ‘tidy up’, or what ever you want to call it. I’ve also got some people to talk to who have read the opening chapters. Feedback is good for us fragile ego’d writer types. I also want to check it hangs together and makes sense… after all – this is something from the dark corners of my mind. It could be absolute piffle.

Children’s book project has been left in the safe hands of the illustrator, who is puzzling away on a definitive look for the book. It’s a wee thing, like a Mr. Men book but via Lenore or Tim Burton. If that goes well I’ve already written the second one.

Then, there is the comic thing. I came back from Birmingham Comic Show super-mega-inspired and with some images rattling around in my head. Not only did I bash out a 22 page comic script, but also I found an erstwhile ally… and then another. I don’t want to say too much on this until we have more to show, or you can just go over to Edible Brain and soak up the frothing enthusiasm…

And as if this wasn’t enough my Dad popped up, which sounds like humdrum, everyday stuff, but it isn’t, as he’s never visited me before. I’ve not spent so much time with him since I was in my teens, and I’ve not lived with him since I was eight years old. I was concerned I might descend into some gibbering, approval seeking Muppet, but instead I just developed a cold. Unfortunately the illness put a bit of a downer on his visit (for me at least), but we did watch Formula 1 together, which was nice if only because I associate Formula 1 with childhood. I don’t know why. Lounge floor. Lego. Saturday afternoons and nowhere to go, no one to see. Happy times.

Normal service will be resumed next week where I will avoid comment on the BNP and Jan Moir just to be, I dunno, unpredictable or something.

GLOBAL FREQUENCY

I picked these up at Birmingham Comic Show and read volume #1 on the train home. The sheer output of the writer is staggering, and I’m beginning to suspect you could just read Warren Ellis penned material, if you weren’t as voracious a reader as, say, those crazy folk at Pornokitsch.

As ever with Ellis, the watermark is high, and he manages to put a new spin on a comic series – every issue is standalone. Global Frequency charts the adventures of an organisation of the same name, as they attempt to rescue people from various strange and lethal situations. These can be as straight up and obvious as terrorist attacks (but even these have their twists), or seemingly supernatural occurrences.

What makes Global Frequency unusual in comics is the revolving door approach to its characters. With the exception of Miranda Zero and the communications operator Aleph, there are new protagonists every issue. The reason for this is that Global Frequency is made up of volunteer specialists, 1001 specialists to be precise. Each issue new people are drawn in to solve mysteries or prevent some catastrophe from occurring.

And it’s not just the characters that are given the revolving door treatment; each issue is pencilled by a different artist. Issue #1 features Brit Gary Leach, and Chris Sprouse makes an appearance in Volume #2 (he would go on to work with Ellis on Ocean in 2004). Over the twelve issues Simon Bisley, Glen Fabry and David Lloyd all pop up, to name just a few.

If this sounds a bit disjointed to you then fear not. David Baron provides the colouring on almost all the issues, giving the series continuity in colour palate, and Brian Wood’s (DMZ, Northlanders) excellent covers set the tone nicely for the series.

In addition, there are only two volumes of Global Frequency, so it’s easy to collect all of it, something to appeal to the completists out there.

A fast paced rollercoaster of a comic, each issue offers something new and wildly dangerous. Ellis’s trademark slick dialogue and techno-fetish provide ample fuel to make this series really go with a bang.

Part Two Of The British Comic Show

Read Part One HERE

After hard day’s conning, and watching Jared grow increasingly more excited and laden down with purchases, we headed back to the hotel for a Siesta. It was at this point I realised I hadn’t actually bought many comics. What a fool!

Having had a suitable snooze, we hooked up with Gary Leach again, and roved the streets of Birmingham looking for a curry. The city of Brum can challenge any of Brick Lane’s finest I’ll wager, and we were famished. I wasn’t sure at first, but then my memory clicked into place and I realised I was seated opposite one Gary Erskine and his lovely lady Mhairi. Steve Pugh offered smut and degeneracy from the middle of table, and the conversation ricocheted from the gutter to politics (not so far apart) and all places in-between. It was interesting to note how little of the talk was about comics. As the Tiger beers kept arriving we shared many a laugh and Gary recounted the time he’d had to re-draw an entire splash page of stampeding elephants, for Titan Comics Senior Editor Steve White, back in the day.

The main problem with BICS is that come Saturday night, there is no central venue for the great, the good and the frenzied fanboy, to come together. For many people, the socialising aspect is what makes a Con particularly memorable, or, if you drink too much, unmemorable.

At the pub (I forget which one) I had a quick catch up with Mr. Tony Lee, who explained the Cosplay Competition had gone seriously awry with some jokes of dubious taste, made in the presence of children. Worrying… the press haven’t demonised comics for sometime now, but it’s best we don’t give them any ammunition.

After managing to find a seat, Monts from Geek Syndicate bounded over and recounted his rather difficult panel, and revealed he had to drive back to fair London town at 7am. Better him than me. Urgh.

On the Sunday I managed to find both volumes of Warren Ellis’ Global Frequency, and War Stories: Volume 2. I also bagged myself a rather spiffy sketch of Rogue Trooper from Gary Erskine, who was on fine form despite getting up at 6am to watch the Japanese Grand Prix.
The madman.

After another chat with Geof at the Fetishman stall, we headed off. My head was already buzzing with ideas and inspiration. Maybe I’ll have a stall of my own next year.

British Comics Show

So, October is upon us again and the Dame and I clambered aboard one of Virgin train’s space age contraptions (assuming of course the future smells like toilet cleaner), and headed of to the British Comics Show.

Ahem.

Yes, the Birmingham Comics Show re-branded itself slightly in a noble, if slightly ambitious attempt to assert itself as the daddy of all comic conventions in the UK. Whilst this should be commended it was perhaps a little mistimed with the economy being what it is, and the fact that many professionals still consider Bristol the main annual event for funny books.

Having booked the Friday afternoon off work, so as not to miss the launch party, I was somewhat baffled by the venue and the ‘entertainment’. DJs playing R n’ B to a mob of comic lovers (and a high proportion of metal/ alternative aficionados) quickly passed from being randomly amusing to deafeningly shite. I later heard the staff at the bar weren’t ready for the advertised opening time. The Dame and I bumped into Gary Leach and ended up back at the Malmaison (a particularly swish hotel) bar. We found ourselves chatting to Bryan Talbot and Steve Pugh over an Amstel or three. Steve Pugh was very amusing and, after explaining the complexities of the Transformers, letter column, we headed off. Note to Con goers: the rather more budget Ibis, in Chinatown, is located above a nightclub. Fortunately, we were both too tired and drunk to be kept awake by the pounding bass.

The following morning we made our way downstairs for breakfast, where one Matt Smith of 2000AD was gearing up for the day ahead. Our good friend Jared from the website Pornokitsch arrived and we headed in, across Birmingham’s deranged geography to Millennium Point.

I was a little disappointed that last year’s Future Shocks competition wasn’t on, as first time writers really need breaks like that. With some fine-tuning the format is great for Cons and serves as a good focal point. Perhaps next year?

Rufus Dayglo failed to appear, having just come back from a con abroad, but there plenty of other artists to keep the crowds happy. At one point Charlie Adlard gave an impromptu portfolio review, whilst Lee Bradley and John McCrea sketched on.

One my highlights of the weekend was meeting Fetishman supremo Geof Banyard, who has been hard at work creating more issues of his twisted but terribly British comic. I had forgotten how damn funny he is, and myself, the Dame, and Jared promptly emptied our wallets in a binge of merch and comic buying. Why not pick up a copy of Fetishman and see what all the fuss is about? The rampant sauciness of the subject matter is wonderfully neutered by the silliness of the gags.

During the afternoon I finally met up with Abby Rider, a long time follower of this blog. Abby has landed work colouring with 2000AD and is hard at work on her Imaginary Gumbo title that looks fantastic.

After managing to miss the Geek Syndicate panel, where two of the panelists were reportedly monosyllabic to just plain negative, I had the ‘pleasure’ of listening to a random Fanboy witter on (and on) in the café. Apparently he had been plucked from obscurity, and an appointment with his meds, to stand in for Howard Chaykin. Fair play to Barry and Monts at Geek Syndicate for making the best of a difficult situation!

Saturday night was the real highlight for me… and I’ll tell you about it in part two!