- Mark on All Purpose Cultural Cat Girl Nuku Nuku

n e w b o o k s

JOHN PHAM STUFF! - Just received a lovely big bag of books and prints from John and Raina. This means we've got restocks of SUBSTITUTE LIFE (£10-99), his sketchbook from last year. If you're going to make something special, you may as well push the boat and and that's what he's done here (and, admittedly on everything else). Silkscreened, chipboard covers, off-white interiors with vellum index pages. This way it wouldn't matter if the insides were rubbish but thankfully they're not. Includes 'My Cassavettes And Chris Ware Diary' and lots of unused strips, poster designs, life studies and more. QUEEN BEE (£2-99) by Raina Lee has the same paper and ink used in Substitute Life but at 3.5'x2.5' is about the same size as two and a quarter boxes of matches placed side by side. One hundred and fifty pages of doodles, scribbles, instructions on making leg-warmers and tiny drawings of ants. MILDRED LEE, SPACE STATION SCHOOLGIRL (£2-50) by Pham is a mini with two colour screened cover and features the same loose artwork as his 'Cassavettes' story. Okay, maybe a little more polished but it's fun and funky, all done straight to paper, no plotting or pencilling. 1-UP #3 (£8-50) is a thick, sumptuously designed retro-arcade game zine edited by Raina. Think the Pacman/Pong generation with a little leeway. There's a lot of comic content here, not least the Martin Cendreda 'The First Time I Played Asteroids' and Pham's 'Blister'. You also get illustrations by Jordan Crane, Sammy Harkham, Souther Salazar and Kozyndan. And Dave Kiersh! Can't forget Dave Kiersh! Two colours throughout with a fake obi-strip and random 'imaginary Street Fighter Characters' card. Great ad in the back (or maybe there was a link from another ad) for a site where you have to play Pacman to hear some mp3s. Lastly we've got the EPOXY 3 PRINT (£8-99) to put on your walls while reading all this lovely stuff.

Clyde Fans Book One hc (£12-99, Drawn & Quarterly) by Seth - Two brothers inherit their father's company, selling and manufacturing fans. In the first half of the book it's 1997 and Abraham Matchcard wanders through his day, looking back through the ups and downs of the business, admitting that they were unprepared for the rise of the air conditioner industry. Once thriving, Clyde Fans was overtaken by technological progress, too self-assured to change track when advancements took place. At the abandoned headquarters he voices regrets for his life and that of his brother, Simon.

'Christ, it's the norm for a salesman to promote himself. That's the number one produce he's selling.

It's also a quality I've always found repulsive in myself and others.'

We go back to 1947 for the second part of the story. Arriving in the small Canadian town of Dominion, Simon is out of his depth. He's asked to be a travelling salesman, wanting to prove himself to his brother but without the requisite charm and bluff he finds himself knocked back a few times, backing away with sweaty palms. As he walks the street the buildings seem to crowd him out. He can't face phoning Abe to say how its all going. And it's not going well.

This is not only an excellent character study but also a delicately drawn evocation of the past. Seth, as we know from IT'S A GOOD LIFE IF YOU DON'T WEAKEN, has sympathies for Abe and his feelings of being left behind as the world expands and thunders on. The detailing of the clothes and stores is wonderful, right down to the cheap, plastic novelties another salesman is hawking. There are a dazzling few pages at the beginning showing the dawn approaching as we see the light falling on the buildings. As the pressure builds for Simon, his brother is shown in single panels, looking down on him like an angry God. We feel the guilt and panic. The second book should tell us why he had to get away and why the trip to Dominion was such a turning point of his life.

Pupshaw & Pushpaw hc (£11-99, Presspop) by Jim Woodring - Lushly painted in glowing watercolours, this dazzling book takes Frank's loyal partner away from her owner and shows an afternoon of play with Pushpaw, her loving companion. They travel through a candy-coloured land meeting strange creatures, face adversity, are naughty to frogs and generally frolic and have a great time. This is a book for children of all ages and possibly the first Woodring book that I'd be happy to show to children. The darker corners are gone and replaced by fun and games but the tale is still quintessentially Jim.

Frank hc (£26-99, Fantagraphics) by Jim Woodring - Not new but a long awaited reprint. Many thanks to David for sending this link to an excellent animation based on one of the darker strips in the book.

Drawn & Quarterly Showcase Book Two (£9-99, Drawn & Quarterly) by Jeffrey Brown, Pentti Otsamo, Erik De Graaf - The main pull here is Jeffrey Brown's excellent story of an American murder. He circles the event, showing the quiet lives of those involved on the periphery as the facts fall into place. As with the other two stories, he's given two colours for his artwork and mostly they stay separate. One is used to show either a dream-state or an unreality. Once it's used within a panel on a piece of clothing, a major part of the story, another time as an overlay during a psychic episode. If the phrase 'psychic episode' has you worrying that we've stepped into paranormal territory, be assured that this is still Jeffrey Brown handling the story with the same reserve as his previous books. Quite haunting. Otsamo and De Graaf tell tales of childhood, regret, loss and waking up to responsibilities on life. Good stuff from the both of them but they're outshone by Jeff.

Kyle Baker: Cartoonist vol 2 (£9-99 Kyle Baker Publishing) by Kyle Baker. Kyle Baker (that's four 'Kyle Baker's in a single -- err, five Kyle B-- ), I have just discovered, is the same age as myself, and I'm not at all happy about it. The man is a comedy god with twenty years of visual beauty under his belt, has a family so warm and funny they will make you glow, whilst here I am, slouched alone over a computer, reviewing his latest gallery of sly-as-a-stoat cartoons and comics, wondering whether I can get my money back on the CD in which Morrissey promised, 'I know it's going to happen some day to you-oo-oo-ou...' Both The Onion and Publisher's Weekly agree that the best strips are 'The Bakers' where Kyle takes you behind his front door and shows you his wife and children's antics (it is some consolation to note that Baker's working space is even messier than mine), and they're not wrong. Both volumes are the perfect gift to any doting mother or father (or even those beginning to whiff of despair), for that smile of recognition will flash across their faces page after page after page. The front features will also have you grinning away, like the (very stupid) moth's intoxicated delight in an electric light bulb, prescient Sweet Sue, Defence Attorney replacing her office door glass's 'S. Sue, Defence Attorney' with 'Same Sex Divorce'... and the sight of an old man, after hanging himself, having his suicide note scrutinised by a wholly unfazed wife ('You misspelled 'constant criticism'). Kyle Baker's WHY I HATE SATURN, one of the funniest books on this planet, will be reprinted and back in stock any day now. If you have ever been to a bar in your life, you need that book.

American Elf: The Collected Sketchbook Diaries Of James Kochalka October 27,1998 to December 31,2003 (£19-99, Topshelf) by James Kochalka - It's a simple idea. Commit yourself to drawing a page a day in your sketchbook as a record of the day. Usually four panels, occasionally less, that show in incident or a feeling from that day. Repeat. James is the perfect person to do this. Throughout his career objects have been given personalities (or is it that their personalities have been illuminated by James?), small moments given magical meaning and a sheer love of life has been expressed. The bulk of this book came out as four individual booklets (you get an extra 25% here but I've been assured that it will pop up elsewhere) and it's been sweet to follow him to parties, conventions, copy shops, on walks by the sea, under the moonlight, in the shower, under the covers and everywhere else.

My Little Funny (Underworld vol 5) (£7-50, Fantagraphics) by Kaz -

[SOMEWHERE IN IRAQ]

'After this war I'm moving to the decadent west.'

'And live among the infidel? Where?'

'Infidelphia'

[BOOM!]

'What hit us?'

'Smart-ass bomb'

One of the funniest contributors to MCSWEENEY'S 13 brings us the fifth book of his warped cartoons.

Jimbo In Purgatory hc (£19-99, Fantagraphics) by Gary Panter - ' After years of comparing Dante and Boccaccio to find commonalities between the two, Panter developed a narrative of his own that includes literary and pop references regularly injected throughout the captions of the reinterpreted cantos.' I have to admit that I'm lost here, I just don't have the brain power resources to fully understand the classical references but from what I can gather from the introduction Boccaccio's 'Decameron' was based on Dante's 'Divine Comedy' about the descent into hell. So Panter, Punk Godfather of ratty art works up a plan to send his stocky hero Jimbo on the same journey. As the poems were strictly structured, the pages keep a nine panel/twelve panel rhythm throughout the book. Each section of Dante's work had 33 sections, the story has 33 pages. It this doesn't seem like a lot, remember that the book is 12'x17.5'. Jimbo and his box/skull/computer companion descend and, in place of the original characters, they meet pop-culture figures along the way. Flicking through the book you can see Boy George, Alice Cooper, Yul Brynner in Westworld, Yukio Mishima, Maria from Metropolis and dozens of others. 'Popular culture will always contain important messages for the collective organism made by the collective organism--regardless of the intentions of its creators,' - Panter. The footnotes allude to other works from both high and low culture. The truly stunning aspect is how the pages work as composition. For each plate, there's a decorative border (also full of images to be decoded) that sometimes plays with the panels, sometimes the images bleed into each other. Standing back a few feet there's a pattern that goes through the panels, linking up to become a work on its own but this pattern works with the story being told from panel to panel. The viewpoint stays the same throughout, there are no above shots or dutch angles giving it a very staged feel. There's no point in trying for naturalism here. For those interested in the Fort Thunder collective here's one of the antecedents. I'm not usually one for saying 'without X you wouldn't have Y' but it's obvious that Panter has allowed a generation of artists to be a little looser in their outlook and allow for mistakes to be kept as part of the process.

Closer (£9-99 Oni) by Antony Johnston & Mike Norton. Professor Graham Butcher was just a technician thirty years ago, but a technician on one of the most ambitious scientific experiments of its era: Project Hermes. The goal was to achieve instant transmission of superpositioned particles from one space to another - in other words, the teleportation of matter. It worked. It worked on bricks, it worked on chairs. It... wasn't so successful on human beings. The project was abandoned, the team disbanded, but Butcher saw its potential. All it needed was a change of faith. Now the original, surviving scientists have come together on a remote and craggy island and Professor Butcher's about to teach them a lesson in quantum mechanics and Egyptian mythology...

I think there are some passages missing here, because I'm fairly sure that on page 33 the Tardis should have materialised, along with the low, fruity voice of Tom Baker: 'Ahh, yeeees. Just the sort of spot for some grisly murders, slight-of-hand science and a dollop of religious gobbledegook. I do like gobbledegook. Do you like gobbledegook, Sarah Jane?' 'Oh, very well, Doctor. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll get on with the screaming.' 'There's a good girl!' Neither the Doctor nor Ms. Smith are on hand, of course, but Serena Cumberland is. She's the daughter of Veronica, who was part of Project Hermes, and her feisty, irreverent and objective distance to the proceedings may just enable her to walk away in one piece. Will anyone be coming with her, or will they have all killed each other first? Handy note, if you don't immediately get it (I didn't): the word 'BELIEVE' when you see it is made out of bones - spare ribs, if you like.

2020 Visions h/c (£19-99 Cyberosia) by Jamie Delano & Frank Quitely, Warren Pleece, James Romberger, Steve Pugh. Old Vertigo project, twelve issues in length, composed of four three-issue story arcs linked by time (the year is 2020, the place US of A) and relatives. First thing to note is that the colour is gone, and in the early gnarled and knobbly Frank Quitely art it's sorely missed, because it really is quite a dry piece with lots of talking heads, and very little for Frank to get his mitts into. The second thing to note is that if you liked Warren Ellis' TRANSMETROPOLITAN for the ideas rather than the humour, this is the closest you'll get. Jamie's on full thrusters here in his 30-years-down-the-line theme (as it was then), where America has defeated communism and found no other unifying enemy (oh, were that one prediction true!), and so turned its hatred inwards on its festering self. The festering bit comes in the form of a plague. Those infected are shipped off to Ellis Island (hmmm), because with the fear of an all-too possible superbug increasingly resistant to antibiotics (which many currently believe is only a matter of clock-ticking time), medical health policy boils down to containment (very much like Cuba with AIDS), not treatment. Alex (who as we'll see has children and grandchildren) contracts the plague, and has to pawn his old porn (now that the Sisters Of The Revolution have banned booze and erotica) in order to find what he hopes will be medical attention. It's an intelligent disease too: passed on by bodily fluids, it makes you randy. And just when you think Jamie's reached the zenith of cleverness, he hits you again as Alex realises that the virus he's caught makes him a living weapon (comparison: if someone wants to beat you up down a dark alley - and I pray no one ever does - you might tell them you're HIV-positive; if they have a brain cell at all they'll then walk away, and at least some good will have come from such a catastrophic nightmare). The second story (and I think that's all we have time for today) follows Jack (daughter of Alex) Atlanta into surgical, sculptural S&M hell when she investigates a missing girl, and here you'll learn that a 'snake-biter' isn't a cider'n' black concoction as pronounced by The Fall's Mark E. Smith, but a protection device against rape far more effective than a pepper-gun. I leave you then with a quote which will give you a taste of what's on offer, and please don't say I didn't warn you. Oh, wait, I haven't warned you. I warn you now.

'It was nineteen years ago Jack came down here from Georgia. Bounced out of the F.B.I. Academy for compromising Bureau morality. A rubber had split during an induction gang-rape, and left Jack pregnant. Abortions were outlawed in the south since '98. She was scared, left it late, but finally went up to Chicago. A Christian pro-life cadre snatched her right outside the clinic. A forced Caesarean ripped twin sons from her womb. The Christians dumped her in the parking lot of a public hospital. The doctors saved her life okay... but her wounds stayed raw.'

Transmetropolitan vol 0: Tales Of Human Waste (£6-50 DC Vertigo) by Warren Ellis & many. In Ellis' dirty future Spider Jerusalem was a journalist. This is his journalism.

Sandman: Endless Nights s/c (£11-99 DC Vertigo) by Neil Gaiman & Quitely, Fabry, Sienkiewicz, Russell, Prado, Manara, Storey. After a whole year of various SANDMAN reviews and previews, I'm left with little to say except that if you've been waiting for the softcover so that it will sit well with your other trade paperbacks, umm, this is actually larger than the others, sorry. It's taller and wider. Still excellent, though, with each artist assigned to a tale on one of Morpheus' siblings, including a lesson in love for Dream himself a long, long time ago.

How To Go To Hell, The Road To Hell (£4-99 each Harper Collins) by Matt Groenig. More mischievous fun-making from SIMPSONS creator Groenig, only much darker. Long-eared Bongo's now bound and gagged in a cell whilst Akbar & Jeff, the identical lovers, are in gas masks as a result of 'The War On Terror': 'I get horrible pictures in my mind when I think about the war. In my brain I keep seeing the bombs rain down. Bomb after bomb after bomb. And the bombs destroy the roads and the bridges and the buildings. And the bombs blow the soldier's legs off. And the bombs hit the houses and hurt the children. And the bombs kill the children, and kill their mothers and kill their fathers. How can I stop imagining this awful nightmare?' 'Watch some tv news. It's much prettier.' Plus more of the usual frivolity, like How Long Will You Live? (A Fun Test): 'Start this fun test with 73 lucky bonus points. If you live on a small island in the South Pacific all by yourself, add 3. If you live in a small apartment in a large city with a roommate who whistles, subtract 4. If you are annoyed by the phrase 'Have a nice day', subtract 3. If you live with a spouse or friend, add 2. If the spouse or friend is a poet subtract 3. If you wear sunglasses at night, subtract 3. Are you hip and self-satisfied or from Los Angeles? Subtract 3. If you resent this test, subtract 3...' etc.

PvP: At Large (£7-99 Image) by Scott Kurtz. What's an office without its ineffectual boss, its skiving workers, their dubious romances and a big dumb purple monster? No office at all! Here's the first six issues of four-panel gags as the motley crew deal with a mouse on a caffeine rampage, some overzealous role-playing, and the price of fame. Here's the purple dimwit Skull, and Francis the techie:

'Boy, Francis, you sure have a lot of junk in your office.'

'Yeah, people send me stuff to review in the magazine. It really piles up.'

'What's this do?'

'Oh, that's one of those Z-10 ireless cameras. You can put it anywhere and then watch it on your computer.'

'Ooh, a spy camera.'

'Yeah, I guess you could use it to spy on someone if you wanted - Heeyyy - Hehe heh. Skull, are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

'Cake?'

Sinfest vols 1, 2 (£11-99 each Museworks) by Tatsuya Ishida. Available online at www.sinfest.net, so I don't really have to describe it, do I? Worth a look, though, for the cartooning's hip and wit is hit rather than miss. Features young loser dude in sunglasses and cooler, older girl - or it may be a just a difference in height - who appears to find him funny. Maybe they're brother and sister, I don't know, I've only had chance to skim some of the second volume from which:

[Loser dude sitting under a tree in the sunshine]: 'Hey, God!'

'Yo'

'Are you really omniscient? Do you really know everything I mean, like even everything I've done?'

'Pretty much.'

'Hmm, But you're all-forgiving too, right?'

'Depends. Are you all-sorry?'

There're also cats and dogs and what-not, but back to the loser dude and a pretty young lady:

'I wanna be your own personal santa, baby. And god down your chimney! Ungh! And stuff your stocking! Ungh! Ungh!'

'Ha ha. you're funny. Here's my number. Call me.'

Meanwhile, in Hell...

[Icicles everywhere, with a shivering Devil going]: 'What the -?'

I Am Legion book one (£4-50 DC Humanoids) by Fabien Nury & John Cassady, Laura Martin. London, December 1942, and in the extensive wine cellar of an expensive house, an important man called Wilkes sits tied to the chair. He's on in the inner circle of the war effort fighting the Nazis. A second man stands imperiously above him, drinking Cognac, then slits the belly of his own forearm, right down the length. Some time later the mansion is pulverised by an explosion from within, but the man who walks away looks uncommonly like Wilkes. Romania, December 1942, and there's a young girl overlooking the snow-crested mountains, recalling a battle between the Ottomans and her brother, during which her brother gathered all his prisoners - all 28,000 of them - and had them impaled on the ridge of one of those mountains. That took the wind out of the Sultan's sails, and Ottomans fell back in retreat.

'And you were there?'

'Of course... I was there, beside the Sultan.'

There's a war going on. Or are there two?

Abroad there's a resistance on one side, and a series of horrific experiments on the other. Back at home there's an investigation into the body found in the burnt out mansion. It's all connected, but the team sent to unravel the puzzle are only just beginning to scratch the sinister surface, and they have troubles within. Who knew that a safe combination could be so poignant? Every time I review PLANETARY I keep meaning to include Laura in the credits because she contributes so much to the beauty of the books, and do so equally here. Great script, well balanced, and the remarkable art of John Cassady. No idea when we'll see book two, but it'll be worth the wait.

Powers: The Sellouts (£12-99 Marvel Icon) by Brian Michael Bendis & Michael Avon Oeming. Penultimate book in the previous series, in which a seedy sex scandal involving a veteran superhero team, the very icons of moral integrity, is just the beginning for the most brutal storyline to date. Revelations occur, and someone goes nuclear. As in postal, yes, but as in nuclear also. The best bits are set at a convention where one of the team's ex-members is signing photos for money, and provides the detectives with several pages of character assassination involving his ex-teammates. (And if you already enjoy POWERS you'll find Brad Meltzer's spell on GREEN ARROW commended to you somewhere below.)

Ultimate X-Men vol 8: New Mutants (£8-50) by Brian Michael Bendis & David Finch. The thing about Finch is that although he is already one of the three finest superhero artists there has ever been (Bryan Hitch, Neal Adams since you ask), he has an edge when it comes to tenderness as well. There's that look on Logan's face, in the cave when the boy asks how many (how many what? not going to tell you) - it's in his mouth, in the eyes and the eyebrows - and when you read it through the second time, when you know how the scene ends, you know why it's there because you know what Logan has joined him to do.

Sometimes it's difficult reviewing books because I don't want to spoil things. I was as vague as I could be with IDENTITY CRISIS #1, kept it to a minimum with a recent HUMAN TARGET review, and I left it as long as I could before dishing the dirt on the cleverish twist in CAPTAIN AMERICA during the six brief months it was readable. So again, I'm going to hold out on why the self-contained second issue in this book is probably the single finest 21 pages of X-MEN I've ever read, because you need to see the subtlety of Bendis and Finch right there in the first few panels for yourselves. It really is one desperately sad little story (the whole book is full of pain, isolation, mistrust and loss: young men and women whose teenage life would be a complex enough series of anxieties born of self-doubt without the added complication of being branded a mutant), one which I think would impress comics readers of all bents, even though you might have to have a certain predisposition towards spandex for the rest of the book. Well, maybe not. If you enjoyed either film, this would grab you, and if you're one of the many who has picked up a copy of ULTIMATES, you won't find this volume at all inaccessible even without having read the previous ones (plus Nick Fury plays a prominent part). It's Bendis for heaven's sake - he's a dialogue god, and he knows how to write something that speaks to you. Here Storm's been sent after a newcomer (Warren Worthington, drop-dead gorgeous), who's literally flown the coop after misinterpreting snatches of students' conversation about his wings:

'I don't think I want any part of the circus you people are making of your lives. It's just noise and bedlam and I don't do well in that kind of situation.'

'Neither do I, really. But that's not why you left.'

'No. I - I just can't tell you how wonderful it felt that you people, who are freaks of society... were looking at me like I was the most repulsive thing you've ever seen.'

'...'

'...'

'Wow. You read that wrong.'

'I know what you -- '

'Can I be honest?'

'I don't need you to -- '

'Not to weird you out, but... Most of us were staring at you because you're... stunning. That is why we, at least the girls... And maybe Colossus... that's why were were staring at you. You're... beautiful.'

'...?'

'I'm sure when we get to know you we'll find something annoying or truly disgusting about you...'

'...'

'I think, maybe, I know some of what you're going through. Sometimes I think that my entire personality has, like, become my powers over the weather. Like, all of a sudden, I don't have any identity beyond the fact that I'm a 'mutant'. And I love my powers. I love flying. I love rain. I love my winds. I'm so lucky. I know. But I know what I can do outside of all this, y'know? And I get so frustrated that all anyone ever sees in me is my powers. Or, like, all they see is a mutant. They don't see me.'

'What do you do?'

'I write.'

Now, go compare that to the X-FORCE #1 dialogue below. One I can relate to, the other I'd divorce.

Ultimate Fantastic Four vol 1: The Fantastic (£8-50 Marvel) by Bendis, Millar & Adam Kubert. More fun than I was anticipating, and a different sort of Ultimate book in that you're in on the ground level, as the four accidents of science gradually learn what they can and cannot do by accident, and get a bit of a kick out of it. Gone is the space flight, replaced by a sabotaged experiment on a grand scale which Warren Ellis explains quite convincingly next volume.

Green Arrow vol 4: The Archer's Quest (£9-99 DC) by Brad Meltzer & Phil Hester. If you were given a second chance at life, would you be curious about who had attended your funeral? What would be worse: surprise absences, or worryingly unexpected guests? Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, wasn't the first of his brightly dressed friends to die, so made contingencies for when the inevitable happened to him. But now that he's back (he just is, don't worry about it), he finds that those plans weren't followed to the letter, and his old friends discover exactly whom he entrusted them to. Brad's currently writing IDENTITY CRISIS (see #2,3, below), and if you're one of the many enjoying the series, you more than likely to feel at home here, since once more it deals with the importance of privacy and the comfort of friends. There's plenty of mischief on hand when the rest of the DC crew put in cameos, and now that I think about it, the patter combined with the 'cartoon' art are as much reminiscent of Bendis' POWERS as anything else.

Oracle is DC's ultimate networker, the crippled daughter of Commissioner Gordon, holed up in a high-tech surveillance tower, from which she works closely with Dinah, the Black Canary. Ollie also works closely with Dinah, but in a different way. Here GA and Orcale are communicating via the Canary's earring:

'What are you doing on Dinah's line?'

'She left her earrings on my... uh... kitchen table.'

'Don't lie, Oliver. That microphone was switched on all night. I heard everything. Everything. Trick arrows, my rear end.'

'You serious?'

'Jeez, Ollie, Clark was right -- you have gotten gullible in your old age.'

'Listen, you gonna help me or not?'

'Just tell me what you need.'

'I'm looking for a positive I.D. on a guy in a photo.'

'Now you're singing my song. Just hold it up to the window -- And don't block it with your fingers. I'll have one of my satellites scan it from space.'

'You can do that?'

'Oh, Ollie-- Such a sucker.'

Marvel Knights 4: Wolf at the Door (£10-99,Marvel) by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa & Steve McNiven ~ The U.S. Government decide the F.F. have been freeloading off tax payers money for too long and decide to send the bailiffs round. If being forced out of your home wasn't bad enough it seems their accountant has been fiddling the books and done a runner. Well they say bad luck comes in three, the same applies to the spandex-clad, so brace yourself.... they have to get jobs! Real Jobs! But I can't help feeling Roberto could've been more challenging. Instead of Johnny Storm becoming a Fireman (so obvious) he could made him a Lifeguard. The Thing becomes a construction worker and again I can't help thinking he could of seen this bit of bad luck as a chance to explore new avenues. Maybe a fresh new start in childcare? Sue could be a pole dancer! Wouldn't have to show anything she didn't want, just make it invisible! You got to leave some things to the imagination.... And maybe I should.

JLA/Avengers oversized double h/c slipcased edition (£49-99 DC) by Kurt Busiek & George Perez. Huge and heavy and you really can't help but smile when you see Perez's pencils on such a scale. This was the long-anticipated crossover which, in the event, met with a distinctly underwhelming reception. Never mind, everyone's here to trade insults and bash each other about while something cosmic happens around them. The series is reprinted in one full-colour hardcover, whilst a second is given over to an exhaustive account of Marvel/DC crossovers, the first aborted attempt at an Avengers/JLA team-up (quite the bitching session!), the various versions you nearly saw of this one, annotations on the final version from George and Kurt, plus page after page of George's pencils (some of them inked) from the original 1980s version. I had no idea he'd completed so many of them, and since Perez was already right at the top of his game 20 years ago, they are a joy to behold. Ludicrous story, by the way. £5-00 flat postage, everything else postage-free.

Transformers/GI Joe vol 1 (£11-99 Dreamwave) by Rieber & Lee. That's Jae Lee of INHUMANS fame, nailing some heavy industrial gothic on your toy-tuned ass. Never has the franchise seen such monumental, mega-tonne mechanoids, lumbering through the poisonous mists, or caught in silhouette against girders and vast, metal platforms. There's even a Great White Shark snacking down on some sorry soul (I don't know why), and if you like your World War II fighter planes, you could do worse than navigate yourself this a-way. What's is all about? Haven't a clue, not my package of plastic.

Marvel Age: Emma Frost vol 1 (£5-50 Marvel) by Karl Bollers & Randy Green. Emma Frost was The White Queen, a telepathic adversary of the X-Men who went on to headmistress (now a verb) her own group of teen mutants called the Hellions. Most of them ended up dead. In spite of that somewhat dubious track record, she's now been welcomed in to the Xavier institute for Gifted Mutants, where she purses her lips a lot while dishing out homework and (under Morrison and Whedon) pithy little put-downs. Bollers & Green take readers back to Emma's own schooling, which wasn't a bundle of laughs either. She's neither platinum blonde, nor supremely confident. She's no natural high achiever, her father's a rich and callous tyrant who doesn't even care to understand his children, whilst her sisters and mother do more to undermine than support her. Only her brother seems to care, but there's something he hasn't told her about his 'friend', and he's about to feel his father's wrath big time. Bollers does a solid job of creating the oppressive, competitive home atmosphere where money is king and which will force Emma into its own mould; he's also successfully created a monster in her father. It's hardly A-list, but it's aimed at early teens, and I'd say it pretty much hits its mark, dealing as it does with early sexuality, school years and a family from hell.

The Punisher (Max) vol 1: In The Beginning (£9-99 Marvel) by Garth Ennis & Lewis Larosa.

[After the incident in Central Park, years earlier]

'...Can't even begin to imagine it, Frank. Jesus Christ. I uh, I guess I should tell you my news. I'm not with Carrie anymore. She's staying at her Mom's in Jersey.'

'Why...?'

'Ah, one of those things. I met someone else, a girl works in my office. We kinda... well, you know how it goes. We got together, and... you know, like I say. And me and Carrie, well, there wasn't much love left there, I guess...'

'Is she okay?'

'Well, she was kind of freaked out at first, yeah. But -- I mean now she's uh... You know how it is. Frank?'

'I lost my wife. And you threw yours away like she was nothing.'

'Hey, Frank, look --'

'Run.'

'What'd you say?'

[The present...]

'Why are you telling me this?'

'In his heart, he knew it was wrong. But it was what he wanted. So he went ahead and did it, and hoped everything would work out all right. That's why he deserved to be punished.'

See, I did warn them that this numbering thing was a little too random, and now look: they have two different Punisher books out with '1's on their spines, both by the same writer, to confuse casual browsers no end (I added the 'Max' bit for your benefit, it's not by the title on the cover). Still, that's what comic shop till-monkeys like me are here for, so you can ask us any number of questions and we'll happily provide you with the answer. Unlike Amazon. That's why you shop with one of us comic shops (doesn't matter which one) rather than bookstores or Amazon. I hope. So here's a warning should you be buying this for young 'uns: probably not, no. Apart from the guy holding his severed bollocks in a plastic cup, this new series of Marvel 'Max' PUNISHER bears little resemblance to the cartoon violence/black humour of Garth's initial, 'PREACHER-lite' miniseries in which Castle used polar bears as weapons. Those there bollocks should make it clear that this is indeed closer to the adult content of PREACHER itself, with Garth making references to big cocks and castration, and where the violence is violent, with what might even be an overkill of Ennis' trademark headshots. The art is gorgeously grimy in places, particularly in the twilight of the interrogation room, for Frank finds himself in the unusual position of being captured - by the government no less - with the help of an old friend. What does the government want? They want to offer him a job, an opportunity to kill with sanction, only they choose the targets and Frank must do as he's told. I'm sorry, I'll write that again: Frank must do as he's told...

'I want to know why you told me about Bob Garrett. The guy who dumped his wife and you beat half to death.'

'You missed part of it. I warned him first. I told him to run because I knew what I was going to do to him.'

'But why tell me...?'

'Run.'

Superman Adventures vols 1 & 2 (£4-50 each, DC) by Mark Millar & Alluir Amancio. Before Mark Millar became notorious for being the slick-witted, mischievous bad boy of violent superheroics, he turned his reputation around (it wasn't that sparkling) on this all-ages attempt to grab kids from the animated series and get them into comics. It's bright and it's breezy and it's silly as hell, with plenty of plot holes kids couldn't care about. Works perfectly. Witness the big boy scout bashing up some robot dinosaurs, while a female journalist hangs around in reckless proximity so that she can ask, 'Superman! Take a few moments to explain how someone actually defeats a fifty-foot-tall toy intent on trampling The Whitehouse into the dirt?' 'Certainly miss...' (Hands over a couple of items.) 'You take out the batteries?!' 'You did ask.'

Essential Avengers vol 4 (£10-99 Marvel) by Roy Thomas & John Buscema, Sal Buscema, Neal Adams, Tom Palmer. Surprisingly political content, taking to task racists, xenophobes and property developers, plus the usual wild histrionics. Almost looks better in black and white, which is how so many of us old Brits fondly remember it, and I know it's sounds as if I'm in love with Tom Palmer, but you can see his strengths as an inker by the pages he's absent from.

Star Trek: The Key Collection vol 1 (£15-50 Checker) by 'Golden Press staff' & Zaccara, Giolitti. These were the first voyages of this comicbook enterprise, a several year mission to give you an extra dose of Kirk and Spock in a world on which videos had yet to be invented. Back then you were at mercy of the television station's schedule, but the comics you could read whenever you wanted.

The Red Star vol 3: Prison of Souls (£16-99 Archangel Studios) by Gossett, Kayle & Gossette, Snakebite. Album-sized, full colour science fiction.

Wang - The Big One (£6-50 Squidworks) by Stan Yan. 'Big Loser' is the name of the dildo on the cover, and Eugene Wang is the name of the big loser inside, although he doesn't actually get that much action because his girlfriend's just ditched him for his mother. Now he's working as a cold-calling telephone salesman, which has got to be the most dispiriting job in the world, and in danger of being dragged into a self-counselling cult for the needy and gullible. The sort of comic that makes you feel relieved you're not living it.

You Can't Get There From Here (£8-50, Fantagraphics) by Jason - Two evil henchmen take time off from fetching fresh brains for the evil scientist masters to have lunch in town. While they complain about the hours and the pay their is bedlam and love happening around them. The mad scientist has fallen from the bride of the monster but the monster doesn't want to give her up. Jason adds a mundane layer to the horror story.

Peter Pan (£3-99 Starscape) by J. M. Barrie & Charles Vess. My biography in prose, as illustrated by Charles Vess.

Tim Sale: Black & White h/c (£16-99 Active Images). Any idea why Tim's artbook is called 'Black & White'? Yep, he's colourblind. Just like whoever coloured the first dozen issues of SANDMAN. Hundreds of images here from sketches and unused layouts to full pencils, inked panels, covers, Christmas Cards and some rare early comics he wrote himself. The text throughout is an extended interview with Tim conducted by Richard Starkings of Comicraft, and thoroughly illuminating it is too. Before joining Jeph Loeb on the highly successful series of monochromatic superhero projects like DAREDEVIL: YELLOW and the even more popular Batman series (HAUNTED KNIGHT, LONG HALLOWEEN, DARK VICTORY), Tim nearly gave up the comicbook ghost after a disillusioning stint at the John Buscema art class. And to my incredible surprise we appear to share many similar aesthetics, including Neal Adams and Teddy Kristiansen (Tim was even a CEREBUS fan), though strangely he wasn't too keen on Miller's Batman. He's never afraid to speak his mind during the course of the conversation - covering anything from Jim Lee's use of Frank Miller's SIN CITY style in DEATHBLOW (and Frank's reaction to it) to elaborate scripts and his less remembered work like Diana Schutz's excellent GRENDEL: DEVIL CHILD - in fact it's so shockingly frank in places that you'll learn a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff that's occurred over the last dozen years or so. Recommended particularly - but not exclusively - to anyone thinking of a career in comics, artists and writers alike.

The Book Of Schuiten h/c (£29-99). Before Gerhard, there was Schuiten, and Schuiten worked in colour. Fans of AKIRA and Miyazaki alike will swoon at this fantastical architect, for my money several leagues superior to Moebius. He has an absolute command of the classical, but makes it tower above existing buildings, then adds skyships, libraries, aviators or gigantic oceanliners. Exquvisit. (sic)

Nickel Plated Angels (£19-99, Gingko Press) by Dalek - Dalek draws space monkeys. He used to be naughty and spray paint them onto walls without asking people beforehand. This could have got him into a lot of trouble. Apparently this is quite a big thing for a lot of young men. They're keeping it real. Probably on the street. And it gets them respect. Unlike a lot of the Bodé-felching bores out there, Dalek has an idea of his own and he's constantly drawing new versions of it. The space monkeys always fly right to left, smirk in a knowing way and have a sense of fun and invention that makes them a visual delight.

Also arrived:

Lucifer vol 6: Mansions Of The Silence (£9-99 DC Vertigo) by Mike Carey et al. The devil's on the move.

Robin: Unmasked (£8-50 DC) by Bill Willingham & De La Fuente, Mays. His Dad does not approve.

Batman: Death & The Maidens (£12-99 DC) by Greg Rucka & Klaus Janson. The baddie's long in t'tooth.

Ursula (£6-50 AIT*Planet Lar) by Fabio Moon & Gabriel Bá. Love's so sweet in youth.

Superman: The Complete History (£12-50 Chronicle Books) by Les Daniels. Nostalgia for the phone booth.

The Tomb (£9-99 Oni) by Weir, DeFilippis & Mitten. I've chosen a seriously stupid rhyming scheme this time, haven't I?

m a n g a:

All Purpose Cultural Cat Girl Nuku Nuku (£9-99, ADV Manga) by Yuzo Takada & Yuji Moriyama - I've been wanting to sample this title since I saw it mentioned many years ago. How can you not love the title? The actual seven words that make up the title? To call this fluff is an insult to lint, I'm surprised that we don't have to glue lead weights to the spine in order to stop it floating away on the next breeze. 'When inventor Kyusaku Natsume transfers the brain of a rescued cat into a top-secret android body, he doesn't lose a possible pet... he gains a daughter! Nuku Nuku might be determined to protect her brother, but her catlike cunning and mechanical muscle may not be enough to stop a custody battle that will soon become an all-out war!' I'd actually missed most of that during reading. It's all very pretty though. Good watercolour pages, one story using cells from the anime and a quarter of the bulk of the book is taken up with postcards.

Samurai Executioner vol 1 (of 8): When The Demon Knife Weeps (£6-50 Dark Horse) by Koike & Kojima. Welcome back to brutal, feudal Japan, and in particular to the world of LONEWOLF & CUB where honour is all, but rarely exists. Before his fatal duel with Itto Ogami (and indeed before Koike & Kojima had created Lonewolf), Kubikiri Asa (otherwise known as Decapitator Asaemon) was the titular Samurai Executioner. His job entailed testing swords for the shogun, looking stern, and chopping people's heads off. If you like to see people having their heads chopped off, you'll have no cause for complaint here. And if you enjoy brutality towards women - and there's an awful lot of it here - you'll also get your own sick version of a kick out of this. Most of the tales involve dilemmas for the executioner to sort out all Solomon-style based on codes of conduct slightly more obscure than which way one should pass the port (don't ask me...), but in the end it's usually resolved in a manner which makes 'cut the baby in two' look positively restrained. Feudal Japan: wouldn't want to live there, wouldn't want to visit.

n e w c o m i c s

RabbitHead (£3-50, Alternative Comics) by Rebecca Dart - Almost overlooked this one because the cover makes it out to be funny-animal whimsy mixed with sword'n'sorcery. And it sort of turns out to be like that inside. BUT (!) the way the story is told more than makes up for that (although I've lost most of you already. It's the way I tell 'em.) A rider with a rabbit-like head speeds through the forest towards a hostile town where she comes to a nasty end. Her phlegm (she spat very early on) takes up life of it's own and grows a devil creature and a poisonous plant. Strange animals mutate, give birth and die. Someone looses their head but regains it later. Dart plays around with the narrative in a way that's only possible on the comics page. Film can use the split-screen technique (beautifully done in Kill Bill) but here she eventually keeps seven separate threads going at the same time, stacked up on to of each other. One line splits into two and then they split again and again. A bird steals a skull from one episode and flies into its own storyline. Eventually they all come back together and the ride has been quite exhilarating.

Sof' Boy #3 (£3-50, Drawn & Quarterly) by Archer Prewitt - Sof' Boy, as pliable and yielding as his name suggests, can see only the beauty in the world. The little white muppet comes across a bag containing thousands of dollars and, with only love in his spongy heart, sets out to distribute it to other people living on the streets of Chicago. The crack whore can barely believe her luck and bursts into tears at the thought of all the lovely rocks she can now buy. The tramp is overjoyed and proceeds to chew the bills and scatter them to the four winds. Proper distribution of wealth.

Yeah, It Is! (£3-99, self published) by Leslie Stein - Mick and Mack have identical Beatles bowl cuts, hang out and the local coffee shop, smoke when they shouldn't and have apparitions of Jim Morrison coming to visit. Stein has produced a strange tale that feels part of a larger work, elements appear to be missing. Why are the two regarded as a menace by their respective parents? Are they going out? Are they going to run away together? What about other friends? There's a lot about the intensity of early friendships and alienation in here. The art is sort of South Park-ish and I love the simple colour range and sweet, open ending.

Bad Ideas #1 (£3-99 Image) by Wayne Chinsang & Jim Mahfood, Dave Crosland. Wow, that's whole lot of (self-)loathing going down, pretty much all aimed at comics, anime, comics readers and anime watchers. Starts off entertainingly enough with the three creators enduring a comicbook convention, where Wayne in denial about what he does for a living. (Actually he almost certainly doesn't make a living out of this, I've never heard of him before.) And I'm sure it must be difficult for some non-superhero creators at the larger of these... events. But really, if you don't like it, don't do it. So then Wayne has this idea that he'll write something and they'll draw it, so they do. And it swiftly degenerates into mindless scribbles with very few laughs, I'm afraid, because most of this satire's been done before, better and indeed to death. Plus, I don't appear to live in the same world they do. It's the sort of thing that makes we want to implore the creators to visit Page 45 and see a shop full of regular human beings. Might cheer them up a bit.

Ultimate Nightmare #1 (£1-70 Marvel) By Warren Ellis & Trevor Hairsine.

'Yo! Something wrong with the telly!'

'I've told you a million times, my name isn't Yo, I'm your mother, and I don't fix televisions.'

'I'm missing the posh spice video!'

'You ought to write them a letter to thank them, then. And I've got to tell you, I might not be with it any more, but I don't think girls from North London get to say 'Yo'.'

And then there's the broadcast, after which thousands begin to commit suicide. Is it a terrorist threat as General Fury suspects? A traumatised, fledgling mutant as Charles Xavier seems convinced? Or is it a warning from another world, destroyed long ago by some unimaginable galactic threat? Hmmm. Warren pulls off the same feat as Millar did when introducing an unfeasibly charismatic Nick Fury: he makes Sam Wilson (The Falcon) look cool. Also Hairsine, a degree of melodrama aside, fills in more than capably for Bryan Hitch, with a cracking rainforest scene towards the end.

Identity Crisis #2,3 of 7 (£2-95 DC) by Brad Meltzer & Rags Morales. Two months ago I staked what I laughingly call my reputation on this not only living up to the hype which DC pour indiscriminately over their annual big events, but exceeding it. I don't take kindly to hype, and as you're probably well aware, I'm not one to get excited over superbobbins, particularly Big Event superbobbins (in spite of what you might read two reviews down). But Brad delivered more than enough extremely tricky promise in terms of structure, theme and eloquence during the first issue that I was convinced this was heading into KINGDOM COME territory in terms of something to say and the skill with which to say it, as well as that elusive thing called accessibility. And I was right. We have a serial killer on the loose. We have loved ones dead, we have a serious revelation in terms of the debatably unethical lengths to which some Justice League have gone - and are still willing to go - in order to protect those they love, and we've seen them fail. Let's be blunt: it's not often you see a superhero's wife being raped. If the word 'sensationalist' has just entered your head, I know 'sensationalist' and I can assure you that's not what this is. It's just one of the very real horrors of life finally making its way into a DC universe which, predominantly, doesn't have anything to say to me. As I mentioned two months ago, this is about bricks and mortar, about what binds people together. It's about love, loyalty, family and friendship. And it's all being torn apart right before our eyes.

(For more Meltzer, please see the GREEN ARROW book, above.)

Batman - The 12 cent Adventure (£0-20 DC) by Devin Grayson & Ramon Bachs. First part of the 730-issue crossover, in which Gotham's crime bosses meet under The Spoiler's watchful eye (she was recently Robin, I think, but Batman's just ditched her), and most of them get slaughtered. That's why the series is called 'War Games'. Quickly dipped into the ROBIN issue involved, and Tim Drake's doing what he can out of costume, but the body count is escalating completely out of control in an eye-for-an-eye and a-tooth-for-a-tooth frenzy. If I lived in Gotham I'd have relocated years ago. Are there superheroes in Madagascar? Fine, that's where I'd be heading.

Avengers #500 (£2-60 Marvel) by Brian Michael Bendis & David Finch. Quick recap: absurd superhero team title which I loved as a child, is being rebooted by Bendis. Now: when something's as big, sprawling, long-lived and convoluted as THE AVENGERS, you do have to take it apart before you can build it afresh. And it's a clever idea if you want to keep long-term fans on board, especially when you know they've an appetite for annihilation. Did I say annihilation? Decimation. Complete and utter immolation. The mansion's a crater, the alcoholic in armour is drunk without touching a drop, and the Avenger created as a means of their destruction is finally doing its job. Someone's lost their temper (I guess it's in the green genes), the body count is rising (although that hand may not be whose you think it is), and anyone still standing is dazed and confused. The script as ever is note-perfect, the art is magnificent, absolutely monumental, and I should mention that Danny Miki's on inks and Frank D'Armata's the colourist, without both of whom this wouldn't be so pretty. But am I recommending this to outsiders? To people who read Bendis but know nothing about The Avengers? Not remotely. For it to mean anything, you really do have to have some history with these guys. If you don't, you'll be as bewildered as they are. It's not like IDENTITY CRISIS - there's no time to explain who's done what to whom, wherefore and when, so Bendis isn't even attempting that. This is the end, the finale, the earth-scorching climax, even if it feels slightly odd after several hundred issues of tepid stupidity. Act two is where the doors will open - there'll be a new #1 and everything. And when I say 'everything', I've just seen Marvel's plans and as usual they're blowing it with greed. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, since I do have some history with these guys, I have a lot of private, unseemly squealing to do.

X-Men - The End Book One: Dreamers & Demons (£2-25 Marvel) by Dame Christopher Claremont & Sean Chen. You know, sometimes a comic's so bad that it's good. It's so cheesy it's fun, it's so over the top it's hilarious. But not in this instance. You snooze, you lose, as the expression goes, and this is grade A eyeball amitriptyline, guaranteed to knock out the average human within a couple of pages. (Warning: Those utilising this as an alternative therapy for insomnia are strongly advised that eight pages is the maximum that should be attempted in any single hour. If symptoms persist, please consult your doctor. Cumulative exposure may result in permanent brain damage, then a seat in parliament.)

X-Force #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by Fabian Nicieza & Rob Liefeld. In part A of this month's mailshot we forgot to mention the anticipated arrival in October of a Meathaus production enticingly titled FOR BEST RESULTS: DO NOT OPEN. I think you know where I'm going here... However, before we take aim at this easy target, I should mention that Rob's art here is actually a whole lot better than I remember. Admittedly I don't remember it very fondly, but the problem isn't the art. It's the script. Cable and Domino are disturbed, mid-meditation, by a tearing in the temporal field (Cable, being Jean Grey's son who was hurled into the future before returning to the past, recognises this for what it is like you or I would recognise when the milk's off). Immediately they're set upon by goggle-eyed ninjas sent by The Order Of The Five Blades, which means (apparently) that Skornn is involved, which means (apparently) it's time to head off to Mount Xixabangma (I've double-checked the spelling, and have just racked up 117 on a triple word square in Scrabble). There they find old X-Force member Shatterstar, handily showing off his fighting prowess against some blue-bonced monks (blue hair is so de rigueur amongst the religious community on Mount Xixabangma), because he's been unable to change: 'Your very blood screams indifference towards defining the need to fight versus the desire to fight...' chastises the bloke with the four-foot blade drawn. Still, that's the sort of meaningless twaddle I'd expect from someone with a shaved head and ponytail - it's Shatterstar's monologues I have the problem with. Let's see if you can spot some contradictions here (do bear in mind that he's fighting at all times during these sequences, so maybe there isn't enough oxygen circulating): 'Human gas -- words are hot air -- and I have grown tired of them.' He's grown tired of words. 'You were trained to fight, but you do not understand what it means to be born to fight! You were right -- it does course through my very blood -- the need to hit -- to plunge cold steel through warm flesh! I WAS MADE TO BE THIS!' Calm down, dear - it's only a commercial! But wait: 'Enough death and killing for all the wrong reasons! [...cries the man who four pages previous had just asked Cable 'Will it involve mindless violence?' 'Of course.' 'Sounds good to me.'] This world never ceases to amaze me. Do you know nothing of honor? Can't killing be measured in values of mettle and justice?' (By the way, if you can disentangle that sentence enough to understand the question, please feel free to drop us an answer...) Several balloons of hot air/human gas later, Mr. Enough Killing's still going strong: 'I came here -- my last resort to learn discipline as a context for warfare... and before you arrived I was told I had failed. And if I am to be such a failure as a man... then let me succeed as a weapon of mass destruction!' You get the feeling that if you employed this man as a gardener, you might get rid of the weeds, but also the lawn, shrubs, pots, perennials and probably the garden shed. You might find your neighbours on the move as well.

Venom Vs. Carnage #1 (£2-25 Marvel) by Peter Milligan & Clayton Crain. Paternal instincts aren't all they should be when you're an alien symbiote. If I've got this right Carnage (white-eyed, crimson monstrosity with very sharp teeth who looks like he's made up of multiple, prehensile entrails) is the offspring of Venom (white-eyed, blue-black monstrosity with very sharp teeth who used to be bonded to Spider-Man), and is currently pregnant himself. He can't stop its gestation, but wants to kill it the second it's born. First he needs to find it a host, I think, then kill the host, so he pops it into a policeman whose wife is pregnant, and then tries to off the policeman. If Venom will let him. I'm not sure I understand this at all, it wasn't covered in Biology A Level. Milligan (HUMAN TARGET, X-STATIX) fills the dialogue with punning reversals ('Carnage, I've loathed you like a son.'), Crain fills the pages with the slick-as-you like, computer generation protagonists (humans look wonky, but the creatures look cool), and together they fill our till with cash. Not what Mr. Milligan was born for, though.

Astro City Special #1 (£2-95 DC Wildstorm) by Kurt Busiek & Brett Anderson. This, on the other hand, is exactly what Kurt Busiek was born for. Superheroics with a heart, a real humanity (and in this instance sporting a truly splendid cover by Alex Ross, whose metallic shine effect here is dazzling). It's about old age and retirement, maturity and mortality, about slowing down and bowing out. Completely self-contained, and as ever with ASTRO CITY on another level completely from Busiek's work-for-hire product.

Video #1 (£2-20 lost in the dark Press) by Stephen R. Buell. In the short note at the back Stephen confesses that it's taken him years to bring his art to the point where he's not completely embarrassed to see it printed, that it still isn't as strong as it needs to be, but it is getting better. 'The ideas were sound, and will, eventually, find their way out of my head and onto the shelves. But I could never do it. Lack of discipline, lack of confidence, lack of whatever it takes to get one of these things published. But here it is.' And well done, matey. I understand exactly what you're saying, so well done for biting the bullet and kicking off. Some times you have to learn on the job, and yeah, the Sam Keith-influenced art is decidedly weak, but the ideas are different, the storytelling's strong and the tale holds several surprises. For a start, that gas mask on the cover isn't worn for survival, it's a security blanket, a way of coping with what by any scale would be a seriously disconcerting turn of events, for two days ago the citizens of Los Angeles saw Christ appear above the city, floating on a flaming wooden cross. What did everyone do? They headed to the internet and the television set, only to find the following: 'Please stay tuned for a message from your saviour.' And what did Christ look like when he appeared? Interesting...

Singularity 7 #1 (£2-99 IDW) by Ben Templesmith. Here's another creator in whom you can see Sam Keith's influence at work, along with Ashley Wood's. Visually it's a hell of a lot more accomplished than Buell's (see above), in fact it's on a completely different level as anyone who's looked at Steve Niles' work (30 DAYS OF NIGHT etc.) will know. It's lush, it's painted, it's gothic as all get-out, and yet he's unfeasibly prolific as well. So why I should care for VIDEO so much more than this is one of those strange personal preferences that aren't always easy to pin down. I think it must be something to do with the fact that VIDEO has me intrigued, whereas this is just a tedious rip-off of The Matrix without the virtual reality bit. Earth's surface is a mess caused by alien nanites who've infected a random human, survivors live underground (lord knows how), and there's a group of mofos in black leather waiting to fight a revolution. I'll take the green pill, please - the one with the cyanide in it.

The Chase #1 (£2-50 AP Comics) by Adriano & Inaki Miranda. I don't envy taxi drivers. You never know who you're going to pick up. And although I never know who I'm going to serve next, I am at least standing behind a counter in the middle of the city centre, and chances are there'll be other customers browsing happily away, whereas in a taxi you're on your own. So here's Tom with his son in the passenger seat, looking for a couple of last rain-drenched passengers before heading over to meet his wife. First one he picks up proves more than useful when he's forced to swerve and smacks into a police car, because he's a Private Investigator with enough insider information to be classed as leverage. The second passenger, however, is about to land him in a whole other world of trouble. Something a little different from AP, set in a companion city to Chicago, ruled by the Chinese and Italian mobs. And it's all very solid, from the art to the dialogue and the family's close bond (rain appears to be a speciality - you can almost feel the cover's splash in your face), though I haven't a clue what happened on the page just before they got home - was that a mystical experience tied to the jade Buddha? Possibly.

Waterloo Sunset #1 (£4-50 Image) by Andrew Stephenson & Trevor Goring. British cult science fiction at its most. There wasn't a word missing there, it's just at its most, and either you're a fan or you're not:

'After it happened... cert, there was grudging. Mega. Giga. Tera. Years of it... Still flares, odd times. Point is, practicality aced the worst of the hate. Nowadays everyone's synched.'

'Universal amity? How very fine. And who leads?'

'The Ubergov --'

'Who comprises that? Who prevails?'

'All sorts.'

'I mislike these prevarications. And the reek of convolved deceit which hangs about you.'

Although to be fair, she is talking to a walking cow-goat in furs. So yeah, you either like it when characters are made to speak like that, or you don't. Anyway, the black and white art has some very decent landscapes, particularly the open valley before entering a London whose Thames has dried up and where modern technology lies idle, unused. All very odd if you ask me.

Small Gods #1 (£2-20 Image) by Jason Rand & Juan E. Ferreyra. Crime series in a world where climate changes or pollution have wrought changes in the brain, in the same way that allergies are very much on the increase. These changes have created a number of telepaths and precogs. Unlike the world of Babylon 5, the constitution has protected their right to free use of their abilities, although most are urged to seek employment in the military or intelligence. Also protected are the rights of suspects not to be mind-read - it's an invasion of privacy (and a legal contradiction, I think) - so law enforcement has been forced to purge all those with such abilities from their departments. Precognition invades no one, however, and that's where our hero comes in. If he has a vision and there's enough information in it, the police can attempt to prevent the crime (though prosecution can't be effected), or catch the perpetrators in the act. Sometimes they run out of time, and there's a victim on their hands; other times the sting goes wrong. Promising. Rand's thought a lot of (but perhaps not all) things through, presents us with an engaging lead character in a faltering relationship who's not all testosterone and bluster, then leaves us on a cliff hanger I don't entirely understand, perhaps designed to lure me back for another look. The black and white, heavily toned art is solid, even though I'm not a fan of that sort of tone, and there's real sense of tension. Odd short story at the end, plus a letter column full of fellow creative types who've obviously been asked to drop him a couple of lines.

Soulfire #1 (£2-25, £2-99 depending on your choice of cover - though blatantly the expensive one is the prettiest - Aspen Entertainment) by Jeph Loeb & Michael Turner.

Now, before we begin half-baking, we should ensure we have the right ingredients.

Mysterious, cowled woman? Check.

Sorry - mysterious, cowled, hot chick? Yes, yes, check.

Mysterious, cowled, hot chick's equally fit and opposite half? Check.

Fire-breathing dragon on the rampage? Check.

Fighter pilots in less than stealthily-coloured, futuristic flying hardware? Check.

A Chosen One, young and good at computer games? Check.

Chosen One in jeopardy, rescued in the nick of time, and the adventure is about to begin? Check, check-check, check, checkity check.

Let's understand one another: you're buying it for the art.

Comic Art #5 (£5-99, Comic Art) ed by M.Todd Hignite & Sara Rowe Hignite - Great interview with Daniel Raeburn admitting that the last issue of THE IMP probably was the last issue because none of you lovely folks actually bought it. What's so obscure about Mexican trash comics? The way he wrote about it, nothing at all. Even so, he's sitting on dozens of boxes of the book. Something's wrong. He's a friend of Chris Ware! Chris made a little toy of Dan out of wood and springs! So sweet. Dan has written a book about Chris! It's a big love-fest between them isn't it? The book's coming out soon and we'll have a batch of them.

Also in this issue you get to see Seth's sketchbooks and the mock-ups he provides for printers and collections of old stuff that he's had bound for himself. There's an art print in each issue and this time Anders Nilson provides the art. What else? Comparisons between F.Scott Fitzgerald and Charles Schultz, pieces on Sunday comics of yore, Virgil Partch and Philip Guston.

n e w m e r c h a n d i s e Emily The Strange Calendar 2005 (£10-99). Another year of petulance featuring the over-indulged little madam in black. Simone Lia prints (£ various). A chip and a pea in a bath ('I've lost my sandwich,' says the pea), Fluffy and Daddy, and another one. Glorious. Some framed, some not. Please inquire. Ultimate Venom Prints (£15-99) by Mark Bagley. See, we don't just cater for the Belle & Sebastian crowd. Sinful Suzi ltd ed portfolio (£28-99) by Linsner. See, he does alliterate. Five plates in a signed sleeve. Mixy stuff by Chronic Fatigue. Arriving any day now, along with OUR WORLD #2: badges and cloth patches. The badges will be bagged with each copy of OUR WORLD, the combined package costing just 25 pence more (£2-25), the patches will be £1-00 each. Unfortunately I've not seen them yet. Chronic's website is finally up, so if you like zombie bunnies etc., try this: www.manydeadthings.com. He's also doing a signing in Leicester in a room above The Charlotte during a gig featuring a bevy of black-clad bands. It's on September 18th, it's called '13 Days till Halloween' and he won't be alone. I know this because some other bloke signing his comics brought the info in to me today. Details: www.thecharlotte.co.uk or www.psychobilly.com. Now, would someone like to promote us? S P E C I A L O F F E R

Cerebus: High Society (£7-50, Aardvark Vanaheim) by Dave Sim & Gerhard - As a special offer and as an introduction to the world of Cerebus we've got the second book at under half price. For only £7-50 you can step inside one of the truly unique comics, and a story that could only exist as a comic.

Cerebus started out as parody book, one that had Conan in its sights but later spread out to include all manner of fantasy elements. Then, after a few years, the author had a revelation, or rather a realisation that he should continue for three hundred issues and put in anything and anything that he wanted to say. For a man writing and drawing a self-published, black and white book this was regarded madness and that's sort of how it turned out.

Cerebus, the character, starts out as a sword-wielding barbarian and then leads on to, mostly accidentally, becoming a military advisor, then prime minister, then pope, then a recluse, a sporting hero, a religious figurehead. It starts in his twenties and ends on his death bed. In-between we've seen him start wars, make dubious romantic decisions, journey to the moon, talk with God and meet his maker.

As a piece of satire, it's one of the funniest things I've read. In High Society the political world is savaged, along with relationships (much more on those later), comic conventions and conventions for comic fans. Church & State goes for the throat of organised religion and further examines the use and attraction of power. Jaka's Story goes back to an old flame, Melmoth is about death and then, starting with Flight, we go off into uncharted areas. By this time the art had arrived at something almost unique in comics. Particular praise must go to Sim's colleague Gerhard for his backgrounds and shading. Sim would constantly try new ideas of storytelling, able to slow the reader down or speed the action up from page to page.

I'm getting ahead of myself here. High Society can stand alone. Even though it's the second book of a long series it's a good introduction. Sim was almost warming up with the first 25 issues but it was in this book that he first set out to do a 500 page story. And for £7-50 you can't go wrong.

For more information, browse around Margaret's Cerebus FanGirl site or see what Neil Gaiman has to say.

UK Postage (overseas at cost):

£1-00 for the first comic (unless there's a book included in the package in which case it's just 25 pence), and 25 pence thereafter.

£1-00 each for Tokyopop or Lonewolf books, £3-00 for 'The Complete Bone', £1-50 each for other books or t-shirts.

'JLA/Avengers oversized double h/c slipcased edition', ''Behind The Panels', 'Cages', 'Comics, Comix & Graphic Novels' and 'Love & Rockets: The Complete Palomar' will cost a flat £5-00 postage, but anything ordered on top of them will of course be postage free, because.....

Maximum postage for all this lot is £5-00.

Posters and prints are sent separately @ £1-50.

Standing Orders:

To ensure that you never miss a single issue of a title you read, Page 45 provides a free standing order service either for personal collection or sending by post. All you have to do is tell us which titles you want, and we'll save them for you as they come out. You can visit or phone as often as you want, but we must hear from you at least once every three months, please. Single orders and reservations just as gratefully received as any others.

More information can be found in Comics International (£1-50), the Previews catalogue (£3-25), at www.ninthart.com and www.sequentialtart.com or indeed by e-mailing us at page45@page45.com

Want tips on producing your own comic? - Download the .pdf - http://www.reddingk.com/

Our web-site address is www.page45.com. Construction, design and management by Dominique Kidd.

Removal instructions: there is no way out. Oh, okay, just type 'remove' in the subject heading, and feel our desolation.

Page 45 is a comic shop.

We are:

Mark Simpson

Stephen L. Holland

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Page 45

9 Market Street

Nottingham

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Tel: (0115) 9508045

Monday to Saturday 9am to 6pm.

Page 45 mailshots wrestled to the ground by Stephen and Mark. MARVEL KNIGHTS 4 tripped over by Tom.

l e t t e r Typical: it's the day of dissemination, and PERSEPOLIS vol 2 has just arrived. No time to read let alone review it, but of course it's good. Some reckless chap at SBCB has given Dame Donna Barr (creator of DESERT PEACH, STINZ) her own column at http://www.silverbulletcomicbooks.com/engine/. What were they thinking?! She's a one-woman artillery unit with - it appears - unlimited munitions and one hell of a delivery system. Next time I venture there I shall be wearing a helmet. The first outing contains the strangest 'secret origin' of any comicbook creator. I'd love to read the first few student theses on the life and works of Donna Barr. I can just see them beginning their research and thinking 'Whaaaat?!?' Anyway, here she is:

AWWWWWW.... no letters!

That's bad.

Donna

www.stinz.com

You think that's bad? This time we do have letters.

Hi guys, Thanks as usual for the mailshot. As usual, a hoot 'n a hollar. This time's high point: Spider-Man And Friends Party Book....Bwah ha ha ha. 'The Captain America Experience' - He He. The little ones could also play 'Origins' - Just think, one lucky child could be locked in the understairs cupboard, you know, the one with all the spiders in it (and the hoover). He'll obviously want to stay in there until bitten - despite his cries to the contrary, and who knows, if one of the critters is irradiated, he may become..The Amazing Spider-Man. And if not.. he may never sleep again. But, hey, in for a penny. 'With great power, comes a lifetime of severe arachnophobia'.

Please tell me you're not a parent.

'Andy', I hear you cry, 'Did you get a response from 2000ad?'

(Andy'd just sent them a submission.)

Well yes actually. Though not the one I wanted. 'The characters just don't develop quickly enough. Geoffrey doesn't even take the formula 'til page 3!' Well DER Tharg. That's because he doesn't HAVE it 'til then! Blimey, all powerful alien editor my arse. But I'm not bitter.

Nor employed at 2000AD, it seems.

Bad luck. Do try again, I'm such Tharg doesn't read these mailshots.

Before someone finds out on the sly then dishes the dirt (though I pray to god all evidence was binned immediately) I too sent in submissions - both in my extreme youth, and both to Marvel. One was a full novel (oh, stop laughing), the other three pages of thoroughly wonky art. I was as I say very, very young, and no longer harbour any superhero-writing ambitions, I swear to dog.

Mr. Grumpy writes:

The lack of love for My Faith In Frankie saddens and puzzles me. Everyone else I know who has read it has been blown away, and that includes some very occasional comics readers (one who hadn't read anything much since The Maxx). I concede that there were times when I thought it was about to go horribly wrong, but they always pulled it back from the brink. It has one of my favourite romcom endings ever, and even when I do like romcoms I normally hate the endings!

- Alex Sarll

Alex will be providing the review. This isn't a cave-in thing, it's a matter of taste and it just fell through our collective gap. The guy went to Oxford or Cambridge and knows what he's talking about - except when he doesn't, which is when I take the piss out of him. More reaction to our letter column paucity last issue, when I declared that nobody loved us:

We love you. Well Alex and I love you all, Tassja's a teenager and probably wants you to die for breathing towards her...

The Emily The Strange merchandise is on the top shelf, next to Tim Burton's MELANCHOLY DEATH OF OYSTER BOY.

Anyway: 'If you want a decent story, find a fucking writer'.' Quote of the year, and should be tattooed onto Stan Lee's forehead. (along with Bendy's phone number)

That's Brian Michael Bendy's phone number...

And most importantly - where the hell does Alias go next, f*ucking brilliant and brutal the last graphic. Amazing Marvel has come so far. IS the story going into the Cage book - if so is it Bendis or some pale imitation?

It went into THE PULSE rather than CAGE (written rather well by Brian Azzarello but nothing to do with ALIAS), and although still written by Bendis, THE PULSE does for my money rather pale in comparison. As I said at the time, swearing does not make a comic, but the lack of it here spells dilution given that we've all grown up with both Jessica and Luke being blue as all get-out throughout the ALIAS series, and Bagley's art reinforces the impression of flimsiness. Basically, the characters lost some of their gravitas.

By the way - does anyone there know David Mack, if so, can you smack him about until he stops trying to show what an amazing fine artist he is and gets back to drawing books that can be read and enjoyed?

I'm struggling to avoid a cheap shot here. But I actually liked the last issue.

I'll keep up with most of the other books but I'll pick things like the Ultimates (which made me interested in Captain America - wow) up on my occasional sojourns into the land of cheap pizza. Struggling to get into Cerebus at the moment, but I'll preserve, you guys insist it gets interesting. Ta muchly. David

Oh dear, not what I was hoping to hear, but once you reach the 'Woofa Woofa' issue I honestly expect nothing less that a dozen 'LOL's and a full, printed retraction. A spammer sent us the following... incantation?

eclogue precision asterisk april kobayashi hilltop intimidate project

moat chairwomen thor sulk

dudley tobacco gaslight exasperate candelabra trudy

Actually, it might have been Grant Morrison.

Having a clearout:

Don't s'pose you have any interest in Pulse issues 1-3

or an old stuffed moose head...?

- [Simon Robinson]

What's the difference? The next preview (September part A) may be a little leaner than usual because we're trying to find time to edit down the last two years of mailshots and combine the reviews with the previous eight years of printed Recommended Reading Lists in time for one massive illustrated brochure to celebrate our tenth anniversary. As ever, it will be free, and we'll alert you when it's ready. Will we get there in time? I have no idea, but we're at least going to try. Other celebrations will be spread over the whole year because it's as much as we can do to keep the queue down at the counter just now. Apologies to whoever came in this last Monday and spent nearly £250-00 on the very finest graphic novels in the world: you told me you were on this mailing list, I was about to ask your name, then a godalmighty crowd gathered and I just had to keep tapping away on the till. Please tell us who you were, we want to thank you again. I remember what you bought, so just list a couple of titles and I'll know it was you! Take care, everyone, and try not to drown in what passes for the English summer.