Table of Contents RKYV # 40 {Sept. 2010} RKYV ONLINE LOGO – David Marshall {current} r. j. paré {modified} Roy G. James {original} Virtual Cover # 40 - Art by Brian Typhair - Layout by r. j. paré Interior Art - By r. j. paré, Bob Labute, Joey Maas, Naomi Randolph, De Tourist, Mike Grattan, Editorial Column - “At the Outset: A Few Thoughts from the Editor” - By r. j. paré
World View - “A Canadian Living in the USA” - By Tom Rossini Indie Comic - “Different Unlike Us Emotions” - Written by Darke Raven, Art by Geraldo Gonzalez, Lettered by RR Duran & r.j. paré Featured Artist Review - “Brian Typhair” - By r. j. paré Short Fiction - “Saviour” - by Larissa Gula
Non-Fiction - “The last Footsteps to 2012” - By CS Cartier Poetry - By Larissa Gula, Stephen Campbell, Frances Nichols Vargas, r. j. paré Pop Culture - “Comic Book Review” - By Brad Bellmore - “Manga Maximus” - By Darke Raven - “Raised on Saturday Morning Cartoons” - By Pauline Paré
Spiderman © Marvel Comics – by Naomi Randolph
At the Outset A few thoughts from the editor… by r. j. paré Summer has come and past The innocent can never last Wake me up… when September ends… Green Day
thanks • giving - noun x The act of giving thanks; a grateful acknowledgement of benefits or favours.
Thanksgiving Day x A national holiday celebrated as a day of feasting and giving thanks observed, in Canada, on the second Monday of October. I’m thankful. Check that, I’m VERY #$%^&! thankful. You see, I’m a lucky guy. I’ve got two great kids and an awesome wife that manages to put up with all my nonsense. The fact that I still find her sexy-as-hell, after 13+ years of marriage, is just gravy brother. The question is though, do I take enough time to acknowledge this? Do any of us? Perhaps this is something you can consider for yourselves, in between mouthfuls of turkey and pumpkin pie, as you enjoy this Holiday weekend.
Here at RKYV ONLINE we are thankful for the writing talents of our returning columnists – Tom Rossini, CS Cartier, Brad Bellmore, Darke Raven & Pauline Paré. Their thoughts and observations are always thought provoking and often witty. As well, our contributing writers [credited throughout] have, once again, provided us with poignant and engaging poetry & prose. They provide the varied and inclusive “voices” of this ‘zine. RKYV would also like to extend hearty thanks to Brain Typhair for his participation as September’s – Featured Artist of the Month. I hope you all enjoy his fiendish “horror-inspired” art as much I have. Another thing I’m thankful for this month: The cover which, hopefully, grabbed your attention – right off. It was designed by our exceptional Assistant Editor, David Marshall [using Brian’s original art] whose work each month provides a “face” for this ‘zine. Of course, no issue of RKYV would be worth a damn without all of the wonderful pieces submitted by our contributing artists [credited throughout]. They provide the often beautiful and assuredly eclectic “flavour” of this ‘zine. All of these talented individuals make the task of putting this rag together, each month, an entertaining and rewarding one. For that, hell I’m always thankful. Now to go OD on turkey… Disclaimer: RKYV medical staff advises that while turkey may contain trace amounts of the chemical tryptophan, which can cause sleepiness in overly large quantities, it would be nigh impossible to actually Over-Dose on turkey. That being said, we’d advise readers to avoid a Paréfamily style Thanksgiving Day binge – trust me that sort of over-indulgence is not only un-healthy but can be downright scary to watch.[Last year, one staffer had a finger bitten off while trying to reach for the bowl of sweet potatoes while this family devoured a 27 lb bird ! The trauma has resulted in severe PTSD for the poor sod an inability to adequately type any future submissions – he just makes coffee for the office nowadays.] Harley Quinn © DC Comics – by Naomi Randolph
World View A Canadian Living in the USA by Tom Rossini
Working From Home vs Going to Work‌ Is it a Benefit to Work From Home? I have been working for a health insurance company in the State of Michigan in the U.S.A. for the past 4 years. Basically, my job as a nurse is to receive requests either by phone or fax where the Doctor, Surgeon, Home Health Company etc request services for our members. I received this data and determine if it’s a covered benefit and if so then see if it meets Nationally Recognized Criteria to evaluate if this procedure / request is truly medically necessary. For the last 4 years I have been going to work M-F and doing my job to the best of my ability. Late last month, I finally was given permission to work from home. The company I work for has about 200 employees which is part of a much larger company and then again another larger company. Overall there are about 180,000 employees if I recall properly and we services over 75 million members worldwide. The company initiated several years ago the ability for any of their employees the ability to telecommute. I have been asking for this benefit for the last few years since gas shot up to almost $4 a gallon but only last month was this request granted. So here I am working at home now for about 1 month and its going good overall but there are a lot of drawbacks for this. You may initially think that I have to be kidding but in reality working from home takes a lot of discipline. When my colleagues found out I was approved to work from
home, I was teased about being able to work in my underwear, not shower, watch TV and goof off on company time ... well that’s not the case. Well not completely… as I do work in shorts and a t-shirt and I may watch a bit of TV while eating lunch. Some of the work drawbacks include: the lack of adult communication and feeling part of a team, wondering if my boss thinks I am working enough, is my production just as good or even better… and then as your working you think I should do some laundry, or clean up the kids toys, or maybe doing other home chores like cut the grass. Working from home takes discipline. You need to be able to separate work from home. You have to be able to walk past the office when your day is over or on holidays and the weekends. You have to be able to not answer the office phone if it is ringing during non office hours and you have to keep family time as family time. This past week I blew this all out the window as last Friday another nurse retired and was basically doing double duty. Thursday I worked from 9 am to 4 am the next day straight, then drove to work about 30 min away and faxed over 150 authorizations from 5 different fax machines in the fax center/ mail room. Came home and worked through on Friday until 3 pm. I received an email from my boss thanking me profusely and at the same time offering me some serious comp time once the other position is filled. So, having the ability to work from home does not mean it’s a benefit… it’s a lifestyle change.
Tom
Untitled – by Naomi Randolph
Cybil – by Joey Maas
Indie Comic Different Unlike Us by Darke Raven
Featured Artist Review Brian Typhair by r. j. paré < Gulliver Brimstone cover art, some of Brian’s collaborative work with Speakeasy Primates - a cooperative creators studio.
About Me: Hello everyone, me TypH again, here’s a little run down, for those of you who might not know me, I’m a young Canadian Horror comic book artist/writer/creator, who works with the nice folks from McHozer comics here in Canada. I have one printed comic out from Mchozer I also did an Ash Can preview with Speakeasy Primates awhile back & I worked on a werewolf preview with a friend from Comicmonsters.com and hope to have that up soon. It's done in a more cartoon-y style. I am also working on my creator owned series "Tales Of Dusk" which will be in the vein of old EC comics such as "Tales From the Crypt" & "Vault Of Horror". I am a self taught artist & only 20 years old. I plan on writing a lot more horror stories an maybe even taking some of my comics an making them into Book/Novel format someday to get more depth into the stories an such, but that’s a rough idea only time will tell seeing there’s so much I want to do in the horror genre in general. Anyways feel free to stop by and leave comments if you like. stay cool boils and ghoulies!
rjp: Have you always known that you wanted to be or, rather, were an artist? BT: Yes I have, even as a kid I would spend hours & hours just drawing lots of random things mainly weird monsters, it's always been something I have enjoyed since I was young. rjp: Did you study or major in art while in school? BT: I took art classes up until grade 10 I think it was, the art classes offered in school only had maybe 4 drawing related projects a year if that so & the teacher didn't really like what I liked to draw either so I stopped after grade 10 rjp: Who was your primary source of encouragement, as a child, in pursuing art? BT: As a child, it would have to be my parents an family for sure, they would always buy me art stuff to draw with an encouraged me all the way, an anytime I would go to family members house I would always have a sketch pad an pencil with me for when I got bored ha-ha…
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Frankenstein & Bride Tribute piece [pencils] Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5 HB#2 & Bienfang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Nov 1/09
rjp: What is your favourite media to work with? BT: For my comic work I always use Mech pencils an some other art pencils & 0.1 Staedtler pigment liner for inks an the odd sharpies here an there for sketches, I’m not much for the digital stuff like tablets an what not. rjp: Do you use any special tools and techniques to create your art? BT: Not really to be honest, I use 4H for most of my roughs I also like using some coloured mech pencil lead for my roughs to, cause it doesn't show up on greyscale scans, an then I use a papermate mech pencil to tight up my lines an add the details an such, I also use a couple rulers an erasers of course & a kneaded eraser, as for inking I use a 0.1 Staedtler pigment liner ink pens an sometimes some fine tipped sharpies for sketches. rjp: What inspires you to create art? BT: It's something that I have always enjoyed doing and it always you to express yourself a little more with your creative skills, also I watch a lot of Horror movies an I like to specialize in horror art so that would count to. Also when I would watch horror movies as I kid I always wanted to draw the things that I saw in the movies. Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Frankenstein & Bride Tribute piece [inks] Media Used: 0.1 Staedtler Pigment Liner Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Dec 03/09
rjp: How would you categorize your artistic style? BT: I like to think of it as a dark edgy style with a good amount of blacks and detail in all my pieces and it's getting to become gorier too. I think all my pieces for the most part have a nice horror feel and look to them. rjp: Would you say that there is a "message" or "unifying theme" in your work? BT: The theme in my work is usually horror and gory, as for being a message I don't really think there is one other then letting others know that I am an all around horror fiend!
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Art Of TypH [website] banner art [pencils] Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5 HB#2 & Bienfang Sketch Book Size: 9” x 14” Date Created: Feb 21/10
rjp: Which famous artists / creators or styles have influenced you? Why? BT: There’s a lot that I look up to but I think the main ones would have to be Bernie Wrightson for sure. The detail that he does in his pieces and the style and look that he gets in his pieces are just amazing look there some of the best horror pieces out there. I also like Jack Davis & Johnny Craig from EC comics, the art work that they had back then was just amazing all the images they did up were just amazing an shocking an just overall cool too look at. Also a big fan of Jeff Zornow, the horror designs that he creates and the detail and style of his art is some of the best new horror art out there. Gary Pullin is also another amazing horror artist that I look up to; the detail and look of all his pieces are just amazing looking.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Art Of TypH [website] banner art [inks] Media Used: Staedtler Pigment Liner Size: 9” x 14” Date Created: March 1/10
rjp: Would you rather have an engaged & loyal but, ultimately, small Indie readership or work on the latest Spidey, Wolverine or X - book? [the old Art vs Commerce question] BT: I think for me it's a little bit of both, I think it would be awesome to do a issue of Spider-man some day but if that never happen it never happens, I'm perfectly happy working on small horror indie titles an having people like my work. As long as I can do what I love and have people like what I’m doing then that’s all that matters really, but I think I would be happier drawing Frankenstein & other monsters on the day to day basis then drawing a spider-man issue for a couple months. I just feel you get more freedom in the indie style books then in the big name ones.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Black Spiderman © Marvel Comics Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Jan 15/10
rjp: Brian’s fully rendered & detailed pencil work seems tailor made for mainstream publishers like DC & Marvel. His attention to fine detail [ie: cracks in surfaces, etc] seems reminiscent of an early George Pérez.
rjp: With advancements in computer graphic tablet technology, some artists are now creating their work directly in the digital medium and releasing it in purely digital formats... are the days of paper & pulp doomed to the realm of fading memories? BT: I personally don't think the paper days are done for, I hope not cause then I would be screwed ha-ha, I do all my work by hand, I think it would be cool to try using a tablet some day, but I am perfectly happy doing things the old way.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Uncle Creepy © Warren Publishing Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Jan 13/10 rjp: What do you think of the term "starving artist"? BT: It pretty much to me means, that you gotta have the mindset that your gonna have to work your ass off an be careful where you spend your money, cause you never know when a project could just up an get cancelled an if you invested a month work of time into it all goes down the drain.
I think if you have the right mindset an will to work hard that over time you wont be a “Starving Artist” yeah you might have to work two jobs for awhile or take on a lot of projects or work in other art fields other then comics, but as long as you work hard an stay on track an get some good projects out there it should work out fine. Also if you’re a “rookie” artist don't expect your first book to big a big seller or a huge hit. You have to work towards getting a fan base first for your book, before it becomes close to being a hit.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Cousin Eerie & Friends © Warren Publishing Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Feb 12/10
rjp: Do you feel more a sense of community with other artists or a sense of competition? BT: I think there’s a huge sense of community, because all of the artists I know are always willing to give tips and pointers and such like that. I guess there some competition sometimes if you see a artist you look up to do something awesome you always wanna keep pushing yourself to make the next “wow that’s amazing” piece of art.
rjp: How do you market yourself? BT: My self I have joined a lot of forum related sites an comic & horror sites in the past two years, an I am always looking for new places to post my art so that people can see it, I always like hearing what others have to say about my work. rjp: Do you find it difficult to stay motivated / inspired? BT: Well there are sometimes when your just burnt out an you just want to take a day break or something, but I think we all get that now an then, but for the most part I watch a lot of horror movies an they always keep me motivated & inspired on my art so it all works out.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Return Of The Living Dead Homage sketch © John Russo Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 9” x 11” Date Created: March 22nd/10
rjp: While traditional publishing and distribution has become a difficult goal to achieve for the modern Indie comic creator, what do you think of the impact that social networks and POD services have had as an alternate means of connecting you, your work and your audience? BT: I think social networks have made a big positive impact on connecting artist to other artist writers an fans alike, pretty much on any site you go on these days there forums where you can upload your art an other things for people to check out, I personally don't think if there was social networks an stuff I don't think anyone would really even know of my art as much as they do as it is, so I think it's helped me out a lot to get me to the spot I am today.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Heartland Farm Terror Cover [pencils] Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: April 3/10 rjp: What other interests do you have, besides art? BT: Well I am a huge horror fan as you might already know ha-ha, I will pretty much watch any horror movie there is, also I’m big on collecting comics I have close to 500+ I would guess, & as of lately I’ve been writing a lot more working on some new comic ideas, I also like animals a lot mainly dogs not much for cats ha-ha.
rjp: You are a member of a cooperative creators studio, Speakeasy Primates, what is that like? BT: It has been a pretty fun ride for the most part, fairly new to the team but it's a good group of guys for sure.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Heartland Farm Terror Cover [inks] Media Used: 0.1 Staedtler pigment Liner Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: April 15/10
rjp: Do you have any big plans, shows or Cons coming up? BT: Big plans, well right now I’m working on my first creator owned series where I will be going all the art an writing for it, it's going to be a massive horror anthology series called “Tales Of Dusk” the first story in it is called “Heartland Farm Terror” it's going to be pretty much like Texas chainsaw Massacre meets Hills Have Eyes & Wrong turn, so if you got those 3 together the creature born would be “Heartland Farm Terror” going to be my goriest story to date. As for cons that’s sadly a touch and go area right not but I would like to hopefully make it to Fan Expo if all goes well.
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Fido Homage © Lions Gate Pictures Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book, 0.1 Staedtler Pigment Liner Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: Apirl 20/10 [Pencils] April 21/10 [Inks]
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Tales From The Crypt: Bordello Of Blood Homage © Universal Studios Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2 & BienFang Sketch Book Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: March 4/10
rjp: How would you like your art, and by extension yourself, to be remembered? BT: I think personally I just wanted to be seen as someone who did some really kick ass horror art an art in general that people will like for years and years after I'm gone. If a couple people like my work and it inspires them to work hard and do art themselves, then I think I did a good job. If I could be known as one of the top horror artist ever then that would be a dream come true. That being said I have a lot of work to do if I want to reach that level, so now I will return to my lair to draw some classic movie monsters ha-ha…
Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair Title: Tales From The Crypt: Bordello Of Blood Homage © Universal Studios Media Used: 0.1 Staedtler Pigment Liner Size: 11” x 14” Date Created: March 17/10
rjp: This creepy & captivating tribute to the old EC Comics staple, HBO series and Universal Studios feature film – was a perfect choice for Assistant Editor David Marshall to adapt for this month’s cover. I’d like to extend many thanks to Brian Typhair for participating in this month’s interview and sharing some of his fantastic & spooky art with RKYV ONLINE. If you’d like to follow Brian online: www.art-of-typh.blogspot.com
Untitled [CD Cover Art] â&#x20AC;&#x201C; by Bob Labute
Short Fiction
graphics by r. j. paré With a heave of effort, Mary slammed the church’s ash wood door into place by the handle. She sighed with melancholy on her breath before stalking away from the evening service, adjusting the olive tote bag on her shoulder so that the cedar wood cross she had tied onto its handles did not slap her chest with every step she took. Her steps startled the herd of skittish does that had been grazing on the church garden, and four of the deer bounded off over the high fence. The final, silly one slid underneath the mesh like a dog. All of them disappeared into the forest surrounding the town. Mary smiled at the sight of the graceful animals and wondered if the stags in the woods had begun fighting for mating rights with the does. A few of the males had appeared around her house, displaying huge antler racks that impressed any traveler. Mary’s thoughts trailed back to the service that she had escaped. She knew her parents were still reciting the Lord’s Prayer, and had started shaking their heads at her empty seat. She knew they would ask God to forgive her for her thoughtless actions as soon as the silent prayer began.
Mary herself silently apologized to God as she walked. She apologized for finding the service impossible to sit through. She certainly had faith. Her faith was just not in man-written words that had been reprinted over the centuries, she argued in her silent conversation. She kicked at the sidewalk with one of her magenta flats. All she had wanted this Halloween weekend was to be kind to her family. Now they would be fighting, and she knew it was her fault. She continued to walk down the street, her thoughts bouncing. She could feel through her flats that the heat contained in the concrete during the day was still being released into the early evening air. She passed a hair salon and a bookstore before finding herself in front of the coffee shop. Its windows were flattered with several black cats sitting by water bowls, and a dancing skeleton holding a full mug. For a moment she saw her reflection in the windows: tired blue eyes, gray v-shirt covered with a black hoodie, dark jeans that were lightening from the number of times they had been shoved through the laundry process. The coffee shop’s door rushed open as a man in a business suit hustled out, key’s in the hand that held up his chirping cell phone. The radio inside of the small building began to play the song, “Mary, Did You Know?” Mary herself smiled, stepping into the coffee shop; for all of the grief that song had led her peers to carry out on her over the years, it truly was a beautiful song. So many artists had redone it over the years that Mary never bothered finding out which one wrote it in the first place. It just existed. She didn’t need to know specifics to know that.
“Mary!” Close associate Don was working behind the register. “You going to buy anything or is this another one of your quiet nights?” Mary smiled at him. When Don was working she could sit in the shop without spending her college change. “Hot chocolate tonight,” she requested. “Whipped cream?” “Go for it.” Don raised an eyebrow as he began the order. “I thought tonight was church for your family.” Mary scowled. “It is. I left.” Don handed her the drink and took the $5 she handed him. “Keep the change – it’s your tip,” Mary said. As she walked away to take a seat on one of the old couches in the store, Don asked his coworker to take over for a few moments. As he emerged from behind the counter, he carefully hung his icing-flecked apron on a hook in the newly painted cream wall. “Talk to me,” he commanded once he had settled himself beside Mary. “Eh,” she shrugged, sipping her drink to buy time. “I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Don scowled. “Yes, there is, and I’d hate to see you stressed. Last I checked, your parents are still telling you how to be a good Christian, and you are still blatantly ignoring their requests – and somehow still wearing this,” he added, extending an index finger to flick at the four-point star around Mary’s neck. Her small necklace held a bead in its center that once magnified the Lord’s Prayer that was inside of it. Mary lifted her free hand to knock Don’s finger down from her collarbones. “There is no reason for me to give into someone else’s religious beliefs,” she stated with a firm voice. “I love my parents, and I love the God I know exists, but…I can’t conform to please. Not anymore.” Don sighed, remembering the time a friend of Mary’s had discovered she was pregnant. Mary’s parents had driven the girl from their lives when word reached them that abortion was considered. They forbade Mary from ever speaking to her friend again.
Mary had snapped, and told her parents how she felt: that what her friend had done was a right in the U.S. and people of the church needed to support the struggling family rather than humiliate them. The door rang open as the chipped edge knocked against the bell hung from the store ceiling. Mary and Don came out of reminiscing to see a middleaged man enter. His beard and short hair were brown, but peppered with gray, and he stamped his feet carefully to be sure all of the loose mud was off of his hiking boots and jean legs. Mary glared at the orange hunter’s vest over his black sweater. Though the season was not open for another week, two men had arrived early. She thought of the does that had run away from the church earlier and felt the hot chocolate swirl in her stomach at the thought of them being shot and gutted. “Evenin’,” the man said to Don’s co-worker. “Black coffee, please,” he added. “Just one.” “My partner’s still out in the woods, I suppose. Took my dang Jeep and wouldn’t say a word,” he stated, matter-of-factly, in what he thought was polite conversation. Mary tipped her cup back so that she had an excuse to look away. “Anyway.” Don spoke carefully, trying to distract Mary from the man. “How’s your goal coming along?” Her goal was to find a career that would not only carry her through life, but would allow her to travel and speak with Native American tribes still living on reservations. After meeting the younger son of a reservation chief, she felt amazed at how forgiving he had been for America’s earliest inhabitants driving his people into tiny perimeters and away from their old land. She wanted to repay his story with a display of love, and from there, she would bring their stories to the world around her. “It’s out of reach,” she said simply. “My parents are interfering again, they wouldn’t pay for such an education and I’m not ready to branch out on my own.” She said, both bitterly and sadly, “They won’t even be alive long to see me get to my career, they’re so old…”
Don didn’t reply; to occupy the silence Mary downed the rest of her beverage. “I better go,” she said quickly as she heard one of the old clocks in the store chime that it was half past the hour. “I want to beat my parents home and pretend that I was studying or something.” “Hey,” Don said, grabbing her hand for a moment. “Relax. You’ll find a solution for everything in the end.” Mary looked away, aiming her cup at the garbage can. It sailed into the bin. “Thanks, Don. Really.” Personally unconvinced, she gently pulled her hand out of his and picked up her tote bag. “I’ll see you later.” As her legs jerkily carried her behind the hunter with his full cup of coffee, she glared at his back. As he slowly turned, aware of something, she glided from the coffee shop; in moments, she had left him behind. For several minutes she briskly walked. The sidewalk came to an end where it dipped into the road. The road took a sudden curve into the woods, where it eventually dissipated into dirt. Mary’s house was only half a mile up the path. Tires screeched as Mary crossed the street. The odor of burning rubber reached her nose. A hard object clipped her shoulder. She heard a hard, “Clop!” as hard material hit the road. The noise was muffled as the creature raced across the dirt, into the darkened trees. Mary looked back to see a black-haired woman sit back in her seat as she stomped on the accelerator, heading straight down the street. Mary shook her head, hoping the evening patrol would be in place. She looked back at the forest and realized the animal was still there. She took a step forward and remembered the rain last night. The roads were dry; the grass was not. She hadn’t planned on walking home from the service. She reached down and hopped on one foot, then the other, removing her flats. She dusted them off with her own hands and slipped them into her olive tote bag. After securing it on her shoulder, she started to walk forward. Her hot feet cooled at the feeling of moist grass and leaves on her feet. Hoping her neighbor back across the street had not thrown a beer bottle over the road yet for her to step on, she walked forward.
The animal turned and trotted back off into the woods as she moved. Mary smiled as its pale outline melted into the trees. It was all right.
She began to jog home on the grass, staying next to the edge of the dirt. She had made it a quarter of a mile when she heard a car engine being started. She slipped a little farther into the woods out of the car’s path. A black Ford jeep bounced past her hidden figure. The driver jerked the jeep to a squeaky stop, unable to handle the bumps in the roads, even at fifteen miles an hour. He had to be drunk, Mary thought; nobody would be this inadequate a driver on this relatively decent road. Unfortunately, he turned his eyes directly towards her. She could see green eyes underneath long brown hair, and the orange hunter’s vest covering his shoulders. His pale eyes met hers and took on a gleam behind the mask of influence; after several moments, they clumsily traced over Mary’s body, a woman’s body visible through her well-fitted jeans and hoodie. Mary shivered in fear and revulsion. No. Not her. What sin had she committed to deserve that? To deserve being placed on this man’s most wanted list in his uncontrollable state? She fearfully began to run back along the road, determined to leave him behind. She heard the engine rev as the man put his jeep in reverse. Whatever bump had ended its path down the mountain was not stopping it now. The jeep backed up rather quickly, nearly overtaking Mary before it lodged its wheel between the edge of a log and another muddy hole.
The man stumbled right out of his car. He fell and hit his head against one of the overhanging branches Mary had ducked beneath. Yet he continued on after her, the alcohol in his system masking the pain. Mary’s breathing came faster as her eyes strained in the shadows that were darkening each minute. Her home was right over the hill. Unfortunately, running a hill was not one of her strengths. She wasn’t close enough to make it! She gasped in pain as sharp twigs dug into her callused feet. Her bag began to thump her chest as she relinquished her hold on it, and tried to run faster. She glanced over her shoulder and was shocked to see that for all of his stumbling, the hunter was actually catching up to her. He had hiking shoes on, she remembered – he wasn’t slipping barefoot through the mud. Mary’s lungs began to feel as though they were the kindling for a midnight bonfire: tiny, weak, ready to give in to flames of pain. She gave up the uphill race and plunged into the forest, looking for her childhood hideaway. Her frightened mind begged that maybe she could huddle down into it long enough for the drunk to lose track of her. Her legs were giving at the knees; this was her last hope.
Even in the moments that her painfully simple and desperate plan emerged, she could feel branches pulling at her jeans. Bark slapped at her skin where her shirt and hoodie were already torn through. Sharp thorns were cutting into her unshod feet. Her hair caught onto every bush she passed; she nearly deliberately dropped her bag before realizing it might actually show the drunken hunter which way she was racing. There it was: her hideaway, a wide, old hollow tree, suddenly a few feet away in her peripheral vision. With an Olympic winner’s gasp of exhaustion, Mary fell to her stomach. She slid through the dirt into the base of the tree. Roots bumped her legs as she lifted herself through it, just barely able to draw her knees inside of the circular hollow.
She wildly grabbed for the leaves she had moved in her panic, and though unable to see outside of the tree, tried to rearrange them, like they were a jigsaw puzzle, and their picture would cover the slimy trail she had left. Then she pulled her bag onto her lap, stuffing her mouth against it to muffle her breathing. Her eyes scanned it, and she realized her cedar cross charm was gone. She silently swore. It had fallen off; it was out there, anywhere for this crazy man to pick up--“You a nun or somethin’?” The hunter called out into the night. He had found it! “Well, then, sweetie…maybe I ought to give you a little gift. If you haven’t taken your vows yet, you might as well know what you’re missin’,” he sniggered. In that moment, Mary nearly retched and vomited into her bag. The only reason she swallowed the bile back down was that it would surely give her position away in this game. Was this how a mouse felt when the cat was on the prowl? Maybe an owl was a better comparison – because a mouse couldn’t see or hear an owl until it was too late. If he didn’t move away on his silent wings, she would be found, carried off…oh, Lord, she cried out silently. The branches were still rustling nearby, too strongly for the culprit to be the wind. A twig snapped. Mary tried to steady her breathing, though she could swear that the man could effortlessly hear her heartbeat as it continued to gallop. Another twig snapped, behind the hollow tree. Then the leaves around its base began to crunch. “Come on out, honey,” the hunter drawled. There it was, the smell of alcohol. She was done. Soon he would look down and see a foot – because one of her feet was probably sticking out of the tree, with her as tall as she was now. He would grab her, and it would be over. For the first time, she truly began to pray. She prayed for more than the A on the project, for no more family fights, for better meals on her table. She prayed for her very life, prayed for someone to help her now.
A hand, slick with sweat and dirt, grabbed her bare foot. She screamed. “Gotcha, sweetie!” He began to pull, so hard that her entire body moved and thumped the tiny hollow with a resounding crunch. There was a crash of bark on leaves as what could have been a bush toppled over nearby. “What the---?” There was another loud crack as something hard came down on the man’s back. Now he screamed and let go of the terrified Mary’s ankle. Leaves scrambled up tree trunks as they were knocked aside by panicked hands. The smell of alcohol disappeared. Mary listened intently as the man began to run away, tripping over every object in his path. She could hear snorting and grunting that seemed to follow the hunter’s slurred shouts of, “Lemme alone! Lemme alone!” Within moments, the screams had vanished back down the trail. Something else was there now, though a good thirty feet from the hollow. It pawed the ground, and Mary heard a soft huffing noise similar to an exasperated horse. Another deer? That made no sense – deer ran from humans, not the reverse. Mary slid her legs out under the tree’s bottom, then her torso and head. And then she could see her assistant. It was a stag. His antlers were incredible, branching into twelve separate points, impressing even local girl Mary. But this stag was white, a wild target, with grey spots flecking his back. Yet his eyes were blue – not pink like an albino’s would be. By all means, this dominating deer should not even be alive. And explaining his actions… The stag stomped the ground again, and the trembling Mary slowly sat up and stared at its kind eyes. So calming…the fear, the panic, it was all being melted away with the simple flash of turquoise. This was bizarre. In the past she had heard of a lost boy who had fallen asleep in a snowstorm. Two elk had slept by his side throughout the night, keeping him alive. But this seemed even stranger to her; especially since the boy’s saviors had run the moment an adult had come within scent range in the report.
With a majestic toss of his antlered head, the stag began to trot off. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Wait---â&#x20AC;&#x153; No deer would listen to her, and she knew it. But Mary did not care. With her bag automatically clenched in her hand, she pushed herself to her feet. She swore she heard clumps of dirt and mud drop off of her to the ground, but she ignored the noise and chased the deer. The ground evened out the instant she found her way back to the dirt road. She had even reached the top of the hill. Her house was waiting for her. The porch was lit with a makeshift battery powered lantern that looked like an antique. The stag was nowhere in sight. Disappointed, Mary trudged the few hundred feet to her porch, where she dropped her bag onto a wooden rocking chair with a sigh. Standing on her porch, though, the calming effect of the beautiful stagâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s eyes wore off, and the fear returned. Her hands fumbled into the fake lantern until she had found the spare key to the house. She worked the lock with both hands and trembling fingers. She jumped inside when the lock clicked, slammed the door shut, and locked both of the installed locks. Her clothes, she realized, were still dropping mud with every step she took. Trembling even more than she had at the sight of the stag, she stripped, swiftly; then she raced upstairs and yanked a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her body. She stomped her feet, the loose dirt on her legs falling between the wooden planks.
The phone rang, and Mary jumped. She finally answered it a minute later, afraid of whom it might be. “H-h-hello?” “Mary? Dear Lord, are you all right?” “Mom…” Mary’s knees finally gave out, and she sank to the floor. “I…I think so. But one of those hunters, he…he was drunk, he tried to…he tried to…” “Oh, Mary!” Her mother screamed into the phone. “I’m all right, really!” she assured her, almost crying with relief. “I’m home, aren’t I?” “The police picked the man up by the road home, and they won’t let anyone up it until they figure out what happened. He’s drunk, but he’s beaten. Did you…do anything? Is that how you got away?” “No, Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Mary replied, sniffing. “Well, whatever happened…this is a miracle from God, and whatever happened, you’re all right…Mary, please sit tight and lock all of the doors until your father and I are home!” The normally sarcastic response Mary would have given was gone from her mind. Instead, she replied, “Yes, mother.” As Mary replaced her phone onto the wall, her jumping mind suddenly laughed, silently. What would her future Native American friends think of a deer, their main source of food, saving her life? Totem animals and spirit guides were usually bears, owls, eagles, and wolves - strong animals that were hunters or workers. A deer? There was a loud, trumpeting call outside her house, startling her into a shout. After a moment, she could stand again, and she descended the stairs slowly until she could see out of a window. The white stag was watching her house from the edge of the woods. He seemed to nod his head in satisfaction, that the girl in the window was safe. As the stag resumed a still pose, the years of Bible interpretation suddenly returned to Mary’s conscious.
The white stag was not specifically a Native American symbol. It had a meaning in many cultures. But Christianity believed that the white stag was, quite literally, Jesus Christ. Mary stood in place, not daring to go onto the porch. She had to wonder, would she ever see this amazing creature again after tonight? The stag had no answer for her silent question. He merely turned, slowly, majestically, and as powerfully as any leader can. Mary remained still at her window, the towel beginning to slip from her warm and trembling hands, as her savior walked along the little trail behind her house, and vanished into the shadows.
fin
Peter [2] – by Joey Maas
The Last Footsteps to 2012 by CS Cartier
Theory two â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Death from Above
2012 and all of its doomsday theories are based mostly on hearsay and the worse of the worst theories. Some of the 2012 dire predictions are more likely than others just like the CMEâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s (Coronal Mass Ejections) which can be a cyclical event which can be predicted based on a cycle and math which is fairly easy and predictable. We know that the earth circles the sun because every 365.242199 days, it returns from the trip, thus seasons and thus a convenient use for the calendar on my wall. The inventors of that handy device were lucky in the numeric values. The truth is the calendar was based on years of observing, any good scientist can tell you observation predicts future once observation repeats itself continuously.
Any deviation of that repetitive nature usually means something new is effecting the equations or the cycle is grander and more complex than originally thought. 2012 is also rooted in an ancient and remarkably advanced civilization that has a distinct advantage over us. The Mayan people have been observing the skies longer and the longer you watch, the bigger the pool of knowledge that is created. It is extremely possible that they may have spotted an orbit that will culminate in a collision with Earth in 2012. This is easily one of the more predictable disasters for 2012. We have all seen the movies, but do we understand what the most likely scenario is really. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think Mr. Willis or his likely counterpart will fly up the blow up the coming disaster and save all of us. So letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s look and observe as we are hit in every country every day by objects. I have a piece of meteorite on my desk right now as a matter of fact. Every shooting star is something falling to earth. Most never reach the planet and are incinerated from the friction of the air upon entry. Speed and angle of entry play very important parts to the amount of debris that survives the trip to planet side. Sadly, it is the size that should be the biggest concern. How many near-earth objects have been discovered so far? According to NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration), as of October 2nd, 2010 there were 7329 Near-Earth Objects (NEOs) that have been discovered. Some 818 of these NEOs are asteroids with a diameter of approximately 1 kilometer or larger. Also, 1142 of these NEOs have been classified as Potentially Hazardous Asteroids (PHAs). Potentially Hazardous Asteroids (PHAs) are currently defined based on parameters that measure the asteroid's potential to make threatening close approaches to the Earth. Specifically, all asteroids with an Earth Minimum Orbit Intersection Distance (MOID) of 0.05 AU or less and an absolute magnitude (H) of 22.0 or less are considered PHAs.
In other words, asteroids that can't get any closer to the Earth (i.e. MOID) than 0.05 AU (roughly 7,480,000 km or 4,650,000 mi) or are smaller than about 150 m (500 ft) in diameter (i.e. H = 22.0 with assumed albedo of 13%) are not considered PHAs. There are currently 1149 known PHAs. This ``potential'' to make close Earth approaches does not mean a PHA will impact the Earth. It only means there is a possibility for such a threat. By monitoring these PHAs and updating their orbits as new observations become available, we can better predict the close-approach statistics and thus their Earth-impact threat. It is the aim of NASA and the allies of said organization to discover at least 99% (huh! Personally I would have liked to hear the goal being 100% but they are planning of missing some apparently). Let’s make this real. I did not say likely, I just wanted everyone to see most predicted results. Oh, and insurance does not cover Act of God… but I thought that the whole definition of accident meant… beyond your control as if by the hand of God. Sorry, digressing! A 10km asteroid strike would hit bedrock even with an ocean hit. The earth is mostly water so hits usually happen there. Tsunami results would occur with most hits 51-500 meters and larger hits would flash boil the water. A massive asteroid would create waves in the Earth’s crust higher than houses, and a blast of 500ºC air travelling at 2500 kph. Any creature within 12 million sq km would be wiped out. (1) That’s roughly the size of the USA, Europe or Australia. That would be a really bad day, and no amount of sun block and preparation would save ya. 500 metre in size objects are something we (and by ‘we’ I mean NASA and the like) do not discover more than half of the asteroids and comets in our solar system with a 500 meter diameter. The sky variable the perspective and depth makes searching an astronomical undertaking. Just one of these would create a crater 10km wide, and destroy all life within 1,000sq km. (2) 100 metre objects are so small, in terms of our ability to discover them that only a few percent are likely to be spotted. If a 100m asteroid struck Earth at 19km/sec the resulting crater would be 2km across, and it would destroy all life within 200sq km. These hit Earth with an average frequency of one every 22,000 years. (3)
I personally cannot validate these numbers. I have seen probably two dozen falling stars so the possibility is most definitely not zero. I am not going to go paranoid and where a hard hat in case something falls on me. I do not think that magic bubble would be sufficient. Objects with a diameter of 50-60 meters pass closer to Earth than the Moon is at least once a week.(4) Aside from the famous Tunguska incident, a smaller asteroid exploded mid-air over eastern Siberia in 1947, leaving â&#x20AC;&#x153;122 craters up to 26m wide and 5m deep.â&#x20AC;?(5) It weighed about 70 tonnes. I am not trying to scare anyone, but these things happen all the time. There is a bigger chance of being hit by lightning, or winning the lottery. It is well document throughout our history though. They strike the Earth and every planet all the time. Look up at the moon as you can see the craters with the naked eye. Meteors do make it to Earth â&#x20AC;&#x201C; here are some examples: In 1965, a one metre heavenly object hit Barwell, UK. Roughly half of Coventry, a city of 300,000 that it passed over, saying they heard it. Those that could see it through the evening clouds estimated the tail to be 20 degrees long. It broke up into many pieces, and although some struck buildings, luckily nobody was hurt. Astrophysicists from the Herzberg Institute in Ottawa, Canada, have estimated that an average of 16 buildings are damaged by meteorites each year, with a human being hit every nine years, sometimes fatally.(6) Recorded deaths by meteorites and asteroids: 588 AD, 10 people, China 1490, supposedly 10,000 people, China 1511, Franciscan monk, Cremona, Italy 1650, Another monk (!), Milan, Italy 1647-54, 2 sailors at sea 1790, A farmer and cattle, France 1825 , A man, India 1827, A man, India
1874, Child, China 1879, Man in bed, Indiana, USA 1879, Farmer, France 1897, Horse, West Virginia, USA 1907, Entire family, China 1908, 2 people reported, Tunguska 1911, Dog, Egypt 1929, 1 member of a bridal party, Zvezvan, Yugoslavia
Buildings are stuck, and people nearly hit, most years. A recent example (June 2009) involved a German schoolboy, Gerrit Blank, who was left with a scar on his hand when he was grazed by a meteorite that left a 30cmwide crater in the pavement.
In 1931, three asteroid fragments struck a Brazilian jungle and 1,300 square kilometers of rainforest were destroyed by wall of fire. (7) Scene from “Armageddon” On February 1, 1994, near the Marshall Islands in the western Pacific, a handful of fishermen witnessed a hundred-kiloton explosion (that's 10x Hiroshima) that momentarily flashed brighter than the sun. This asteroid has been estimated to be just 6-17 metres across, but plenty sufficient to decimate a city - so it was extremely fortunate (for humans) that it exploded above the ocean. West of Ungava Bay in Canada, the Merewether crater is 200m in diameter and was formed less than 10,000 years ago. More recent is the Henbury crater cluster near Alice Springs, Australia. The twelve craters have been dated at between 2,000 and 6,000 years ago. The largest is 180m across and 15m deep. According to Aboriginal legend, the site is known as “sun walk fire devil rock”, suggesting that the event had witnesses.
Scene from Armageddon 2
This is the greatest demonstration that the possibility is real are the NEOs of recent years. In 1937 an asteroid called Hermes, with a diameter of one kilometer, became the closest recorded passage to Earth. When it crossed our orbit it was 780,000kms away, twice the distance of the moon. In terms of time, it missed us by a mere 5 hours. It was reported 2 months later, with newspapers claiming we almost witnessed the destruction of our planet. (8) In 1989, a 300m asteroid (known as 4581 Asclepius or 1989 FC) missed us by 690,000kms and 7 hours. It was not spotted until after it had flown by. It is due to return in 2012. Experts say it is not supposed to come as close but I still do not know if eggs are actually good for me. “Experts” keep changing their mind. Around 1991 another object, a 100m asteroid (1991 BA) passed within 170,000kms. And five years later a 300–500 m asteroid, (1996 JA1_, passed within 450,000 km of Earth In the near future, the number one concern is a 320 m asteroid known as 99942 Apophis. Although when first discovered it was considered to have a 1 in 17 chance of hitting Earth, it is now understood to only come as close as 25,600 kilometres. Again, these are simply 2102 theories. The unlikelihood does not mean we should not keep a weather eye on the horizon. I’m probably not going to win the lottery, but I still buy tickets.
Footnotes: 1. Peter Grego, Collision Earth (Blandford, 1998), 92. 2. Grego, Collision Earth, 106. 3. Ibid. 4. Steel, Rogue Asteroids and Doomsday Comets, 236. 5. Grego, Collision Earth, 79. 6. Ibid., 71. 7. Austen Atkinson, Impact Earth (Virgin, 1999), 81. 8. Grego, Collision Earth, 101. http://neo.jpl.nasa.gov/faq/ NASA – Near Earth Objects Program http://colombiareports.com/colombia-news/news/11683-giant-fire-ballfalls-from-the-sky-in-central-colombia.html
I did find this interesting, and it did not make mainstream news. I have been reading about a media blocking but now I have proof that there may be something to it. The article is below.
Colombia: 'Giant fireball' was a meteorite
Monday, 06 September 2010 Kirsten Begg
“Colombian authorities confirmed that a "giant fireball" that fell from the sky in the Santander department, central Colombia, was a meteorite. The Colombian media has been buzzing with eye witness accounts of the fireball, which caused a massive explosion at 3:15PM local time Sunday. Andina.com reported that Bucaramanga Mayor Fernando Vargas confirmed that the phenomenon was a meteorite that left a crater 100 meters in diameter when it crashed into the earth in the San Joaquin municipality in Santander. Colombian air force helicopters were commissioned to fly over the area to try to locate the source of the explosion. The director of the University of Nariño's Astronomic Observatory, Alberto Quijano, told RCN Radio Sunday that he believed the object was a meteorite. In rural areas of Santander, police received reports that the explosion had shattered windows in the area.” Falling Star – by r. j. paré
Untitled â&#x20AC;&#x201C; by Naomi Randolph
Poetry Selected Poem by Larissa Gula
Lingering As summer bows to autumn The leaves struggle to hold their emerald crowns While they transform into an array of flames, Clinging to their branches, their kingdoms â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Until they finally slip, neatly, accidentally, And fall to the lands below Where they are trod upon, and where Their breath is forced out with each step felt. There they lie, as the flames begin to extinguish. Reduced, shrunken, shrivelling insignificant Figures of the past, lingering, decomposing from thought Leaving no trace of the original gleaming crowns.
Sunflower â&#x20AC;&#x201C; by De Tourist
Selected Poem by Frances Nichols Vargas
Morning Delight The morning sunlight barely shining through But –oh- I can’t get over the sight of you The sound of traffic rushing by Life slowly wakening with the sunrise The Birds are chirping for their daily meal All I can think about is making a tasty morsel of you Gently running my hand along and caressing all That I want to kiss Waking you with the best surprise And getting what I have wished.
Jean Shrimpton – by Joey Maas
Selected Poem by Stephen Campbell
Long Distance Tense phone calls, silence down the end, Listening anxious for my silent friend. Static, ripping sounds tear up the air Around my receiver, I long to hear From my quiet lover, although I can’t say, I worry. Stilled my mouth stands at bay. My sharpened tongue is loaded Ready to utter heated words, exploded From the battery of my loose mind. Such barbed words as these are blind To the complexities of a voice lined With silence. The line crackles, ‘I love you’ breaks the manacles Of quiet. Retreating, silence Turns to catch a parting glance
Of two young lovers, a hundred miles distant Sharing time together, missing and listening.
Anne static copy – by Joey Maas
Poetic Perspectives by r. j. paré
Metamorphe Moments fraught with autumnal impulse Whilst revelling throughout an Indian solstice: 1. Tar-sticky pavement fades under a deluge of umber leaves Sandals and swim shorts replaced with jackets and gym-bags 2. The transition to dutiful pursuits scholastic Eased via distractions; from pigskins to pumpkins 3. That too-brief time of wondrous freedom Extinguished, again at the hands of sage elders Those grasping adults relinquished their unfettered youth For shiny trinkets, expensive toys & the latest gadgets Implementing an engineered metamorphosis Exchanging innocence for… The shackles of our obligatory consumerism
Indian Solstice – by r. j. paré
Lady Grinning Soul â&#x20AC;&#x201C; by Mike Grattan
Pop Culture Comic Book Reviews by Brad Bellmore
Slightly Damned
Thumb Slightly Up Slightly Damned is an ongoing web comic with new pages published every Tuesday and Thursday. This has been happening since 2004. Odds are that with it being around as long as it has, that you probably have stumbled on this before. But, perhaps like me, you are just getting into web comics and this is new to you.This story, created by Chu, can be found at www.sdamned.com. It has fun art that is manga inspired but looks more Western. Perhaps it is manga with a Western flavor. Either way, Chu accomplishes the blend admirably. I enjoy the look of the characters. The basic idea of the story is this: Rhea Snaketail, a Jakkai (a kangaroo looking creature), has just died. Upon evaluating her life, she hasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t been good enough to go to heaven nor bad enough to be damned to Hell. She lacks enough potential to even be assigned to purgatory.
So, since she can’t be damned, she gets slightly damned and sent to The Ring of the Slightly Damned. Technically it is a part of Hell, but so few souls are assigned there since most people live life enough to get assigned someplace else. From that point on, the story follows Rhea’s travels in her new world. I can take this comic in small doses. It’s fun and funny at times and as I said earlier, I think the art is enjoyable. The story feels thin for me. Perhaps I need to press in and read a few more pages of (or years) of the comic to get hooked. It’s hard not to recommend this though since it’s free, which is a great appeal in this economy. Take a look. Read a few pages and see if it hooks you.
The Art of Failing Buddhism
Thumb Partly Up I discovered the Art of Failing Buddhism, a collection of introspective comics at the S.P.A.C.E. con back in April. Ryan Dow, the creator of this book sat across the row from our table and his title intrigued me. It was, frankly, one of the catchiest titles that I have encountered in a long time. When I finally got a break, I bought my copy of the graphic novel and then immediately failed to read it for several months.
As the subtitle of the book promises, these are introspective comics. The assumption being that these really look into the life and thoughts of Dow as he uses his art as a means of both self discovery and self revelation. The problem with this book lies in the fact that self discovery shouldn’t always be revealed. Not that he tells anything painful or too disturbing. Actually a lot of the revelation is quite insightful. No, the real problem is that these insights don’t always translate universally. In other words, what was a great personal discovery for Dow sometimes comes across as “So?” to me. There is a point in the book where he transitions to having an imaginary Buddha guide him in life. This raises the book several notches. Part of the early story’s slowness revolved around Ryan’s only foil being Ryan. Yes, that makes it more introspective, but the addition of the second character allows him someone else to dialogue with. It also allows disagreement. The entertainment and profundity of the vignettes begin to soar at this point. The art is simple and cartoon-y. This is a comic strip collection after all and not a true graphic novel so don’t expect it to have that overpowering style of art. As a comic strip, the art works. It carries the story and leads you to the joke, sometimes delivering it, such as the great image on the front cover. The pictures get their job done and let the revelation and discovery happen. I’m glad I bought this book. I think most people will enjoy the read, although they, like me, will find patches that just don’t connect well with them. Probably different patches than I did. If you do read this, stick with it when you hit those patches and look for the good ones to return as they will. Also, stick in there until Buddha appears. I think you will enjoy it more after that point. If you are looking to get this book, you need to visit Ryan Dow’s website: www.ryandow.ecrater.com .
Manga Maximus by Darke Raven
This Month’s Experiment : Hellsing Publisher : Dark Horse (1998) Ok. By now you must be familiar with Van Helsing. If not by the list of movies in the past (not to mention that ghastly Hugh Jackman movie) that featured the man Helsing, and the actors who played him, then perhaps you're a Advanced Dungeons & Dragons player? Why is that Important? Because of AD&D's Ravenloft series, which had in it's "universe" a certain Van Helsing inspired character in it… but this is a manga review so if it’s Hellsing we’re talking Hellsing the horror series. While Hellsing has nothing to do with the man himself, Van Helsing, it is supposed to be his descendants who run a secret organization somewhere in the UK that protect Queen and Country from monsters of all sort. Yeah, the United States, Japan and the UK seem to have a market for secret organizations that fight the undead -- you need to catch up there, Canada, can’t depend on Alpha Flight alone (sorry)!
The head of the Hellsing “family” is a woman named Integra. After her father died and willed Hellsing over to her it seems she found herself the target of termination by her own uncle. Yeah, "ownership" of those secret organizations is just too nice to pass up, especially if he's waited forever to have it passed to him only for it to get passed to someone else. While hiding from him and his goons, Intergra stumbles upon a corpse hidden within the depths of Hellsing HQ -- corpse? It's supposed to be her protection against the worst. Turns out it IS her protection, after it drinks a bit of blood, because it revives into the ultimate work of over 100 years of undead research, Alucard (which is basically Dracula spelled backwards. Whether or not it‘s the same Alucard as in Castlevania : Symphony of the Night for the PSOne… never figured that out). Long story short Alucard deems the uncle unsuitable to lead, and --yeah – death follows. Integra becomes head of the family, and Alucard is her best weapon. Of course having Alucard armed with a big frickin' gun loaded with silver bullets helps a lot. And that's where we are when Graphic Novel 1 starts. The Graphic Novel starts with your basic kill the undead... except Alucard seems to pick up an "acolyte" after he pretty much shoots through a police woman hostage and then revives her as an undead new agent of Hellsing... whether she wants to be a new agent of Hellsing or not (though admittedly she‘s my favorite agent of Hellsing). Then we start to see things that used to be reserved for the residents of Northern Ireland... mainly Catholics vs. Protestant conflict. Or, in this case, Hellsing (Protestants/best in undead research spawned monster killing) vs. a hard hitting priest of the shadowy Section XIII (Catholics/best in technologically created monster slaying). Yeah, right. Ok. How did this turn from monster killing to Catholics Vs. Protestants anyway? I have no idea.
Apparently the monsters have been coming way too close to the "border" between Catholics and Protestants -- and yes, I don't get that either -- and Section XIII seems to think attacking their Protestant counterparts and their vampiric resources is best. Yeah, Shadowy Organizations, go figure. This rolls into Graphic Novel 2 requiring a gathering of the Convention of the 12 over at Hellsing HQ to go over the events of last volume, too bad during this the HQ comes under attack by an army of SWAT undead led by two freakish brothers called the Valentine Brothers -- once these two and their team is wiped out it means it’s time for Hellsing and Section XIII to come together and have a little pow wow over what’s happening. This leads to a trip to South America and a little Hellsing on Nazi action which turns into a media circus of majorly bad proportions, which means the ending rolling in is going to be major with vampire Nazis, werewolves, the occult, major high end fights and a slam bang ending (oh my)! I usually dread Halloween when it comes since I am, by nature, not a fan of the genre of horror… but here I was quite hooked on the Dark Horse Comics presentation of Hellsing from beginning to end. Nice and solidly done, action packed and just the right amount of gore and horror that even a mostly squeamish type like me can get into it without being too turned off by it. Overall just my cup of horror: a 5 out of 5. This is hard? Next month is worst… the manga that made me… thankful. Stay tuned.
Raised on Saturday Morning Cartoons by Pauline ParĂŠ
The Good and the Bad of Canadian Television Once upon a time, Canadian television had a bad rap. That is to say, the majority of it was just painful to watch. With low production values and a marked lack of writing and acting talent, Canadian television lacked what its American counterparts could offer. There were rare exception of course, but generally it tended to be difficult to watch. Over the years, Canadians became more talented and we started witnessing shows like Forever Knight or Corner Gas. Flashpoint is another example of a Canadian series good enough to be viewed internationally. Being Erica is a Canadian series set in Toronto and it is a joy to watch. Being Erica is internationally acclaimed and is even being marketed in the US. The series follows Erica Strange (played with charm and grace by Erin Karpluk), as she examines the regrets in her life that have led her to be less than she can be. Erica meets an unusual doctor who somehow has her traveling through time; sometimes changing her worst regrets but mostly just learning from them.
We watch the character slowly change and become a better person as she learns to reconnect with all the people in her life as well as pursue the career she has always wanted. Being Erica is smart, funny, warm and wonderfully written. It can also be quite real in its issues and daring in its subject matter. The acting ability on the show proves that Canada definitely has the talent to bring a show like this to life. On the opposite side of the spectrum, is Todd and the Book of Pure Evil. I must admit to being lured to the first episode based solely on the name of the show. You must admit, it has a pretty cool name. That is where my enjoyment of this series ends. I struggled through the first episode and I have no desire to watch another. The acting is consistently bad and the writing is very weak. The production value is incredibly low and all the jokes fall flat. I always hate to be mean in my column but I could not find anything to enjoy about the series. I even found Jason Mewes to be wasted in the first episode. The concept is fun but I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t agree with the execution. Despite my painful experience with Todd and the Book of Pure Evil, I will never dismiss a series just because it was produced in Canada. In doing so, I would miss out on all the Flash Point/Corner Gas/Being Erica/ Kids in the Hall type shows that have made me love Canadian television this past decade. So my Canadian Television fairytale has a happy ending as I enjoy the good that Canada has to offer and look forward to a future of creative, quality Canadian televisionâ&#x20AC;Śand they lived happily (mostly) ever after.