Man-Size (man_size) wrote,
Man-Size
man_size

For Real or For Pretend?

I was blinded by BLADE 2! The slaughterhouse of splatter and impossible, please-let-it-be-true, kung-fu, blew my optic nerves to smithereens. Made the choreography and fight scenes in THE MATRIX look like special effects from 12 ANGRY MEN. Rapid fire violence made up the feature with equal plot parts EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, DRACULA, THE THING (remake), ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK, and DAWN OF THE DEAD. After I shared my enthusiasm with Bob Fingerman, I found out that he had secretly bought me a copy of BLADE 2 as a gift based on intuition. Mofo KNEW that I would flip. What a swell feller. I don't know how I'm going to show this one to SBX. It almost made ME gag.

X-STATIX 3 continues to side-swipe. I'm convinced that we'll be reading a whole new slew of characters and conflicts within 5-issues. That's how off the hook Milligan & Allred play super-duper comix. These two captivating creators would cheat at every hand of poker if they could keep the round table's interest over-flowing with melodrama. I applaud Axel Alonso for risking his neck with these types of comic book hi-jinks. Clap-Clap-and-Clap!

Feeling under-the-weather, I rode my bike around Prospect Park and got name checked. I spun around to greet the star of my Freshman film, Curtis McClarin! I hadn't really seen him since my last days at SUNY Purchase back in '91. A very talented actor, Curtis was always a cool cat and stand up guy. I slowed down my spokes as he jogged next to me and we caught up. He makes a living as an actor (theatre, commercials, movies, interactive game voice-overs "Grand Theft Auto 3," etc.) and we agreed that, if you stick with a game long enough, you'll finally get picked to play ball. Ain't that the truth? Joke of it is, when you finally get called out, do you even want to play? I wonder about that everyday. Would the day go a little easier had I buried my childhood dreams and get the kind of pay that allows comfort? Guess it don't matter 'cause the bling could never shade the zing in my head. I imagine. Exchanged numbers and promised to hang soon.

AMERICAN SPLENDOR comic book author, Harvey Pekar called me today and it seems that he is starting to poke that cranky head of his out of the funk that has plagued his life the past year -- ever since he retired from his 30-or-so years working as a file clerk in a Cleveland, Ohio, hospital, and wrote the AMERICAN SPLENDOR MOVIE, based on his mundane life (thanks to Ted Hope/Good Machine, and the initial meet/greet that I sparked between the two). Seems that the old curmudgeon lost his daily routine, got cancer again, started chemotherapy, tried to commit suicide twice, was forced into mental health care for a month where he received shock therapy, and nearly crawled into a black hole, forever. Something got him to kick again and he appreciated my enthusiasm to perpetuate his autobio comix. I'm proud to give a crippled crab a crutch and contribute my humble wares to a living legend.

Speaking of autobio comix, I don't know whether or not I should pursue making them anymore because they don't sell jack. If Harvey Pekar is scrambling to make another 24pp of AMERICAN SPLENDOR, but can't hardly break-even with all of Dark Horse/Maverick's push, how can I expect Alternative Comics to sell a shot-in-the-dark like KEYHOLE?

Makes me wonder if I should finish my 48pp picture novella, THE DEVIL'S MUUMUU, before gambling on KEYHOLE 2.1? Instead, perpetuate the concept of my "last romantic anti-hero," and see what type of reader response that yields. Bury the idea of re-launching KEYHOLE to a market that can barely survive on X-MEN & SPIDER-MAN product and cut my losses in half. Josh Neufeld is planning to release a perfect collection of his travel adventures (through Alternative) anyway, and so, killing KEYHOLE wouldn't necessarily impede on his efforts.

If I decide to waste my time on creator-owned fare (with the good champions at Top Shelf and Alternative Comics, et al, having my back), should I focus on & pursue writing/drawing a protagonist that strangers/readers can at least pretend to identify with (i.e. BILLY DOGMA), or dare I tell semi-auto-bio tales that, at best, titillate yet leave the reader a stone cold voyeur?
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