A pitch for a SNL sketch.

“Comme Ci, Comme Ça” is a send-up of a traditional sitcom starring First Ladyof the United States Michelle Obama and her best friend, First Lady of France Carla Bruni-Sarkozy. The sketch begins with Michelle and Carla making catty comments about the other first ladies in the bathroom of a banquet hall where a dinner for G20 leaders is being served. Carla is exceptionally vicious, and while Michelle playfully scolds her, she can’t help but agree. As they exit the lav, First Lady of the United Kingdom Sarah Brown explodes from one of the stalls in tears. She says “I’ll never be one of the beautiful ones!”, or words to that effect. Smash cut to ~ a title sequence for Michelle and Carla’s sitcom, titled “Comme Ci, Comme Ça!” with one of Carla’s pop hits playing underneath. After the credits, a brief satirical ad for Goldman Sachs. Fade into Michelle outside of the banquet hall looking worried. A secret service agent approaches her and tells her that they’ve looked all over for Mrs. Sarkozy, but have found no trace of her. All of a sudden, Carla stumbles out of the shrubbery, half-drunk. Michelle chides her for this display, but Carla, no shrinking violet snaps back. Alcohol has changed her from the prim and proper stateswoman that we’re used to into Patsy from AbFab. “I used to party with Mick Jagger and Karl Lagerfield, now I have to pretend that I’m in love with some pompous troll! What kind of life is this?”she screams. A maître d’ informs Mrs. Obama that Mrs. Sarkozy has given the president of Burkina Faso a fat lip, and defiled the Lombardi trophy. Michelle reminds the maître d’ that she is a lawyer and that in the process of getting Carla out of this mess she’ll “make Vincent Bugliosi look like Marcia Clark.” Michelle steps over to Carla, who is now retching into a sewer. Michelle begins to chide Carla again, but Carla sheepishly and ashamedly cuts her off, letting her know that “she won’t make another XYZ affair out of this whole thing.” Michelle apologizes for being so judgmental, to which Carla replies, “Mon cher, you’re the greatest.”

It needs work, but I think it’d make it on the air.

Low Moon ~ by Jason.

The conceit behind the work of comics author Jason is that his work should be considered absurd or ridiculous by virtue of the fact that it employs anthropoid farm animals in place of human beings in his stories. Also the use of a deceivingly simplistic stylized art style leads the reader to digest his work as juvenile diversions. This stupefacient effect is confounded as the stories conclude with mature and sincere moments. To reiterate, Jason initiates his stories with a childlike sense of play and wonder, and concludes them with a sense of melancholy and solemnity.

Unlike previous books from Jason, Low Moon is a collection of five stories, rather than one self-contained story. While the stories are divergent in tone and length, they all deal with the same themes of death, desperation, and failure. Each story in written in a different genre, including murder mystery, noir, western, slapstick and science fiction. It’s interesting however, to look at that list and realize that each story could be assigned to more than one genre. For example, the story that lends its name to the compilation’s title is obviously a western, but since it’s also a screwball parody of the film High Moon, we can see that it belongs to more that one genre. This intermeshing of genres is another way of how Jason confounds the reader’s expectations to create an uneasy feeling of incertitude.

The book’s most interesting story comes in the form of the aptly titled &, which plays not only with the reader’s preconceived notions of the essence of comics, but also their notions of form. Jason tells two stories in &, the first involving a man who needs to steal money to pay for an operation that will save his mother’s life, and the second involving a man who murders the rival suitors of a woman he wishes to marry. One story is told on the verso sides of the pages, while the other is told on the rectos. The effect is that one story of the first story is followed directly by a page from the second, and the stories alternate pages until they intertwine and conclude. Thus the title, &; it’s one story & then another. The stories literally face off against one another, and the reader is left to judge the protagonists, whether one is justified, and the other a heel, or whether one tale is funny and the other grim, and so forth. These dichotomies define the story, balancing one another and conclude with a sense of unease and despair. I can’t recall another comic where this device of alternating pages was used, but it felt very natural. It’s nice to see an artist like Jason play with form, and use it effectively in a story to assist the narrative and make a comment on its theme.

As part of Jason’s larger body of work, the stories in Low Moon perpetuate the artist’s sense of melancholic desperation. The characters in these stories all share a sense of longing, and have all endured an episode of loss. The protagonists in Jason’s stories often seem plagued by feelings of regret, and the plots seem driven by their attempts to put things right. More often than not, they fail, but not before they realize that putting things right isn’t necessary and the morose conclusions of Jason’s stories are often peppered with bittersweet senses of accomplishment.

At the end of Inglourious Basterds, "Apache" Aldo Raine, played by Brad Pitt, refers to an act of violence that he commits as his "masterpiece". This is of course Quentin Tarantino winking at the audience through the screen, half-jokingly telling us that he regards the film with high esteem, even in the light of his other much-lauded cinematic successes. As the film galloped to its conclusion, I have to admit I was already beginning to apply the same word, masterpiece, to the film that Apache applied to his skill with a knife.

The film is far and away the best film I've seen so far this year, and in the Tarantino canon, I have to put it at least on par with Pulp Fiction as his best, and repeated viewing may shove it ahead. I think it is cinema as literature, and should be discussed in college classrooms and salons for years to come.

The film, more so than any other work by Tarantino, is directly metatextual. While Tarantino has in the past positioned himself as a postmodern director by referencing, quoting, and sometimes directly lifting from other films, this is the movie where I feel he's commented on the actual medium and experience of watching movies the most. When a theater burns in the movie, I'm immediately reminded that I'm in theater while I'm watching the movie. When the audience is gunned down while the image of the theater owner come film star taunts them from the screen, I can't help but think some kind of comment is being made on the act of film-making and movie-going. In my eyes, I suspect that Tarantino means to posit that both are acts of apotheosis.

Which is not to say that this film isn't about Nazis and how evil they were. The film sets the goal for its heroes as killing the people who kill the Jewish people in its first scene by having the main antagonist ruthlessly murder a Jewish family. The next scene focuses on the recruitment of a squadron of Jewish American soldiers who swear to kill as many Nazis as possible. The lines between good and evil are very quickly drawn, and rarely blurred. While Apache and his men commit horrible acts of violence, their bloodthirst is forgiven by the fact that the people they butcher have it coming. The act of identifying one's self as a Nazi is an unforgivable act and is accordingly punishable by Apache giving the Nazis he chooses to spare the equivalent of the mark of Cain.

There are moments however, when the audience is meant to sympathize with the villains. There is one character who while being a Nazi, is also young, handsome, conflicted, and in love. He shows guilt and remorse, and at the climax of his character arc, he is intensely pathetic. However instead of letting the audience persist in feeling bad for the boy, Tarantino quickly has the character perform a deeply unsympathetic act, drilling into the audience's head that Nazis are villains and are not to be trusted, liked, nor forgiven. Evil and good rub up against each other in this film but they never intersect.

Besides all that, the film was a masterpiece for not only Tarantino, but actors Brad Pitt, Mélanie Laurent, Christoph Waltz, cinematographer Robert Richardson, and art director Sebastian T. Krawinkel. I can't gush about this film anymore, but to say that I'm sure this is a film that I'll be revisiting again and again in my life.

What popular / acclaimed art did you come to too late in life to really enjoy?
~ The Onion AV Club

Since I've been (no easy way of putting this) not blogging recently, I've had to seek out some foreign stimulus to get me writing here again. It's come in the form of a question posed by The Onion AV Club, an always reliable touchstone when it comes to food for thought.

Believe it or not, my mind immediately went to comics when I posed this question to myself. The question wasn't should I choose a comic, but which comic would I choose? I grew up a Marvel fan, and due to limited funds and interest, I stayed away from the DC universe for whatever reason. Looking back, I don't know why I would have favored one over the other. Both universes had the same kind of characters, both were being written by brilliant writers and being illustrated by amazing artists. But for some reason Marvel Comics managed to get to me first, in spite of the fact the DC had the more popular characters at the time. There were far more Superman and Batman movies to go to when I was a kid than Iron Man or X-Men movies. Maybe that's why, the characters smacked of the outré. While everyone new about Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne, not everyone knew of Tony Stark or Steve Rogers yet. It gave me instant insider status, in my own eyes at least.

So I didn't get to Keith Giffen and JM DeMatteis' Justice League until recently, which is a shame because it's something I would have enjoyed greatly when I was young. It featured superheroes behaving silly, skewering the tropes while not betraying them. Also, when I look at Guy Gardner now it's like looking in a mirror, at least physically, and maybe also because of his short temper. Maybe if I got to this book when I was young I could have learned to not be like him a little quicker. Seeing him laid out by Batman as seen above might have gotten the message across. It's a shame that when I read it now, that I'm not reading it with fresh eyes, and a more childlike sense of humor. But it's still pretty great. Maybe I'll hold on to it for my hypothetical children, because I'm sure they'd love it. Comics are supposed to be fun, at least if part of their audience is kids, so superhero comics must have fun in spades.

Hola amigos. I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya.

In the past two weeks we've seen two deaths, one literal and one figurative. Neither of which I feel particularly inclined to write about, yet I feel that they both deserve some comment. The words "rest in peace" feel especially poignant in these two cases, since I feel neither person deserves either my praise or derision at this point. Michael Jackson, while being a great pop musician and a source of joy in my youth, was also, more likely than not, a child molester. Also saying that someone was a great pop musician is a bit like saying that they were a great ad consultant or typograhper, things which in my mind serve their purpose in society, but don't make you Mother Theresa. Governor Palin, while not being an evil person, did espouse untoward ideas, and therefore deserves my ire. However now that she will soon hold no actual political power, attacking her would be beating a dead horse.

I do like one or two Michael Jackson songs, but not enough to welcome with open arms the deluge of airplay that his songs recently received . I was not running to the record store, would that record stores still existed, to purchase his back catalog. Also, like many mega-celebs, Jackson seemed to use his wealth and fame in one of the worst possible manners, to build monuments to himself. Like the pharoahs of old building their pyramids, many famous and rich people seek immortality through their legacy, which the wise will tell you, will be nothing but dust eons from now. My name is Michael Jackson. Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair. Nothing beside remains.

Governor Palin always seemed to fly higher than her wings could carry. She bumbled, blathered and bolloxed her way through her candidacy for VPOTUS, to the point where I'm certain future generations will see her walking hand in hand with Thomas Eagleton, Aaron Burr, and William Rufus King. She was a reliable source of amusement while she held office, but now that it's ending I'd prefer to not speak about her anymore. Much in the same way that I'd don't talk about Ann Coulter or Bill O'Reilly unless it's to talk about how I won't talk about them, I'd like to let Palin vanish into the ether of Republican ideology.

Rest in peace, demagogues. For good or ill, you will be forgotten.

The Umbrella Academy: Dallas by Gerard Way and Gabriel Bá ~

Umbrella Academy: Apocalypse Suite presented a distorted view of the concept of family, seeking to reveal through the medium of comics that even the seemingly heroic and virtuous have had difficult upbringings. While one would expect darker characters and villains to be the products of dysfunctional families, UA: Apocalypse Suite posited that not even the most noble and altruistic hero has had a completely satisfactory upbringing. The childhood of young Clark Kent, growing up in Smallville with living saints for parents is put forth as being a lie, and one expects that Bruce Wayne’s upbringing with no parents would be considered favorable. The kids of the Umbrella Academy had only one father to speak of, Reginald Hargreeves, a man who saw himself as headmaster first, and father second or third or perhaps even not as a father at all. The final judgment that the first volume made in its critique of family life was that all families are imperfect, and one needs to accept and deal with the mistakes and shortcomings of others as well as themselves in order to be a functioning and mature person.

UA: Dallas retains the dysfunctiona of the family, but instead of offering a critique of normal family life, it proceeds to offer a critique of America. These concepts walk hand in hand to a degree; we have the portrait of the American “nuclear” family from the 1950’s, which has proven to be an unattainable ideal. While there are many families who’ve managed to attain something similar to Ozzie and Harriet, one imagines that in sacrificing their dysfunction, they’ve sacrificed that which would make them unique and interesting. They essentially sell their souls in order to become conventionally ideal. So it follows that a redefinition of perfection needs to be made, one that includes no small measure of dysfunction, and the pain and suffering that goes with it. I’m reminded of Wes Anderson’s “The Royal Tenenbaums”, where all of the members of the family were unique interesting people, but who were also infinitely troubled and strange. And it’s this strangeness and sorrow that made the characters special.

So instead of painting a portrait of America as a model of perfection, UA gives us an absurd, melancholy and violent portrait. America is not built on altruism and noble beliefs; it’s built on a series of assassinations and a history of imperialism and warfare. The history of America as portrayed in UA is sordid, schizophrenic and filled with confused decisions. However, unlike it’s portrayal of family life, which UA presents as damaged but fixable, the history of America is presented as perverse, and as showing no signs of disrupting its never-ending cycle of chaos. People may be able to fix their own lives, but they can’t stop the world from turning. This is a cynical view for a comic book to take, especially during this current epoch that is filled with a spirit of hope and change.

The plot revolves around the characters traveling backwards through time and trying to prevent the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. The heroes become split into two groups, with one group trying to save Kennedy, and the other group trying to keep history intact. The heroes fight tooth and nail against one another, and finally they manage to preserve the course of history. However, after all of the infighting and backstabbing, no character can be seen as having behaved gloriously. Only the fact that if Kennedy had not been assassinated the price would have been that the world would have been destroyed makes the outcome seem beneficent. The book ends with the characters chastising and scorning one another, and after all is said and done everyone is left with a bad taste in their mouths, and they can barely stand to be in the presence of each other.

This focusing on the zeitgeist of the sixties and this pontification on the so-called “Kennedy lie” is nothing new in fiction, but the timing of the publication of this book is. One expects that the book was released concurrently with the first months of the Obama administration in order to tap into the obvious similarities between Presidents Obama and Kennedy. However, since the book was released so recently, I can only assume that it was written during the run-up to the 2008 election, when there was still the possibility of there being a President McCain. I wonder how this book would have read if that had come to be, with Obama’s spirit of hope soundly quashed. I suspect the cynical spirit of the book would have rung even truer.

It bears mentioning that the first pages of UA: Dallas feature a re-enactment of the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, albeit an assassination of the animated statue of Lincoln from the memorial in Washington D.C. Assassinations are grisly businesses and when a leader rises up who is an inspiration for many, it often follows that the leader also inspires violent hatred in a few other people, as well. The history of the 20th century was rife with political assassinations, a plague that unfortunately continues into this century. One would hope that would-be assassins would step back and realize that when a public figure is murdered for political reasons it serves to make their message stronger not weaker. It serves to convert people to the leader’s message, not the killer’s. I think of the recent murder of Dr. George Tiller, and I know that instead of turning me into a pro-lifer, the violent and senseless act of killing a man, in a church on Sunday no less, has made me only a more fervent believer in a woman’s right to choose.

A few quick words about the art team of Gabriel Bá and Dave Stewart; they’re great. I think they were the perfect choices for UA, and Bá’s ability to create a world of stylized mania is nonpareil. The stick by which I measure a comics artist’s skill is how well the characters act, and Bá gives these people a full and empathetic range of emotion. He makes the reader feel what the characters are feeling, and takes us into their psyche and makes us feel what it might be to inhabit their world.

Are you sure you wanna wear that color of shirt?

I went to see Star Trek at the Union Square multiplex, where some of the theaters have balconies that not everyone knows about. When I get the chance to see a movie in one of these theaters I always sit in the balcony on the chance that it will be largely deserted and I’m treated to my own private screening. As luck would have it, the balcony was abandoned except for myself and one other person. I could hear the moviegoers on the lower level titter when something funny happened, and gasp when something surprising happened, but I was able to watch the movie on the big screen with next to no distraction.

So I watched the movie and enjoyed it, judging that it is a very good movie, and a stimulating diversion. Now, it’s getting more and more common that an audience will applaud after a movie, even if that movie is only adequate and not exceptional. I remember hearing a little clapping after Watchmen, so I can say that a little applause after Star Trek was expected. But the level of applause that I heard rising from the gallery made me reconsider how good this movie actually is. Something about this movie seemed to resonate with this audience.

I knew that Leonard Nimoy was going to appear in this movie, reprising his role of Mister Spock, but I didn’t now how much the plot revolved around him. With his Spock having such an important role in the film, the story was lent a sort of authenticity, as if the aura of the original was still vital in this reinvisioning. Though, of all the characters in the story, the one I enjoyed the most was Zachary Quinto’s Commander Spock, who was manic yet steady, romantic yet stoic, and rebellious yet civil.

I certainly enjoyed the action, even if I did know that none of the characters were actually in danger. If Sulu gets knocked of the edge of a platform, I’m not worried because I know he’s not an expendable character. When a gung-ho character shows up in a red uniform, I know immediately that he’s going to die, not only because he’s a redshirt, but because he wasn’t a major character from the original series. If a minor character is put in danger, I’m also not that worried because by definition they’re not that important. So while I did get caught up in the action, I never felt that there was anything at stake, because I knew that everyone that I would be made to care about would be alive and kicking when the credits rolled.

Also worth noting is that this film was directed by Lost’s own J. J. Abrams, and the plot of Star Trek involved a bit of time travel, as did the most recent season of Lost. So, of course, I was looking for clues about the fate of my beloved castaways. If the rules of time travel in Star Trek apply in Lost then the final season of Lost will be set in an alternate reality, which I really have no problem with. It’s like, if I could go back in time to correct the mistakes I or someone else made, only with the knowledge that I’d be creating an alternate reality and the reality I came from would still remain horribly wrought with errors, then I’d still go back in time and fix the mistakes. Because it’d mean there would be at least one reality where the things I regretted didn’t happen. And maybe Jack could still end up with Kate.

So why did this movie leave me only satisfied, when it left the rest of the audience ecstatic? I guess people need to feel the kind of hope and excitement that went along with the zeitgeist that the original series was made in. Perhaps America may be returning to the spirit of President John F. Kennedy’s “New Frontier”, one of the inspirations for the original series. Maybe the audience is subconsciously recalling that spirit and feeling it resonate with the mood of today. If that’s the case, then I’m glad the audience enjoyed it as much as they did, and I pray to the celluloid gods for a sequel.

Alan Moore is at the height of his popularity, given that many people who wouldn't have considered picking up a comic book went ahead and did so in order to enhance their viewing of the movie based on his comic book Watchmen. I'm not sure if popularity is something Moore actually wants, given the fact that he pathologically distances himself from the movies that have been based on his books. Add to that a tendency to evoke the prurient in his books, especially recently, and it's no wonder that he isn't well-known by people who aren't fans of comics. But I expect that widespread popularity is something he never wanted, and perhaps it's for the best that he isn't a worldwide celebrity. However, having a celebrity comics writer could only help the medium, and Moore, given his body of work, would be one of the better candidates for that mantle.

In any event, this book is a whole lot of fun. The previous installment of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen introduced a few new Gentlemen, in the personages of Orlando, Raffles, and Carnacki, who become active in the story much more so than they did in that book. The personalities and peculiarities of these characters, only hinted at in The Black Dossier, are quickly reintroduced and magnified. They become as interesting characters as Hyde and Nemo were in Volumes One and Two. For antagonists Moore casts Aleister Crowley and Captain Nemo's daughter, Janni. Both of these characters conspire separately against the well-being of England, and while Crowley's goals are more long-term, Janni's goals are more present in the story.

Moore turns Janni into Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill's Pirate Jenny from The Threepenny Opera, however, unlike that character, Janni lives in squalor in order to defy her pedigree of piracy. Moore also invokes The Threepenny Opera by including Macheath and Suki in the cast, who, true to character, sing many of their lines. Of course this is a break from the dramatic rules that Moore has set forth. Up until this point, in the world of LoEG people don't randomly break into song, and if they did, other people would notice it as being odd.

Moore thus creates a degree of critical distance for the reader. Instead of being a simple comic diversion, LoEG becomes overtly metatextual. By détourning, and perhaps perverting, these established characters Moore seeks to make commentary on the original stories and the eras in which they were made. Since this is only one chapter in a larger work, I can only speculate on what that comment might be. It remains to be seen if Moore would agree with Macheath that human civilization can only perpetuated by man's inhumanity to man. I think, however that, through Mina and Allan, Moore seeks to present an alternative mode of progression and evolution.

As a very casual and very outside observer, I can say with little reservation that the United States Republican Party is in crisis. There is a complete lack of leadership, with most elected GOP officials having been forced to distance themselves from the policies of former President George W. Bush. No Congressperson or Governor has stepped forward to fill the void of leadership. Nature abhors a vacuum, and now the leaders of the party are non-elected personalities like Rush Limbaugh and Glen Beck. Congressmen kowtow to these blowhards out of fear of the size of their soapboxes and the profusion of their ratings.

Why should this be? Is this not the party of Lincoln and Reagan? Why the paucity of Republican leadership? Given, the seventy percent approval rating of President Barack Obama would make any challenger seem foolish, but there always needs to be some sort of official opposition in a democracy, just to keep the party in power honest. The Republicans need a leader, so why should it not be the Presidential candidate whose supporters were the most passionate? Why should the leader of the Republican Party not be Texas Congressman Ron Paul?

Congressman Paul represents everything I wish the Republican Party was about. He emphasizes Libertarian ideals and Free Market policies, and lessens emphasis on so-called "family values". While I'm not on the side of the Libertarians or the Randians, I'd rather the debate be about these principles rather than pithy issues designed for the sole purpose of instigating furor.

The downside of having Paul be the leader of the GOP would be that his campaign attracted a number of supporters that I'd lovingly refer to as wackjobs or coucou birds. When people get exceptionally worked up over a political cause it starts to look like the Nuremburg rallies, where there is no place for dissent. Such is the case with all political rallies, but the Paul supporters come off as excessively fervent, and I worry that they begin to see red when someone challenges the policies of their leader.

Paul himself, however, seems like a thoughtful man, interested in doing what he believes is best for the United States. He wants to end the war, and he appears to be socially tolerant. He is dissimilar from former President Dubya in so many ways as to make him appealing by comparison. Instead of defending the blatant failure of the Bush presidency, the GOP should be reinventing itself, and moving forward. Paul represents an opportunity to do so, and I wish they would, because it would mean the main opposition party in this country was at the very least rational.