- Stephen on Men In Hats

n e w b o o k s

Ultimates vol 1 h/c (£19-99, Marvel) by Mark Millar & Bryan Hitch, with Currie & Neary on inks, Paul Mounts on colours. You've just tuned into Page 45, the anti-corporate, pro-fiction, cutting-edge retailer voted best in the country by a band of... beautifully misguided Lovelypeople. And there appears to be a slight problem adjusting your channel. Because this has had me grinning like a monkey and swooning like a sixteen-year-old since the moment it arrived, and it's not as if I hadn't read the material half a dozen times already. DVD extras on this enlarged hardcover include an issue-by-thirteen-issue commentary by Millar and Hitch. 'From what I remember,' says Hitch, 'what became the first five issues was intended as solely issue 1, single sized!'

Mark went to the Barbelith INVISIBLES sight to find someone there outraged that Page 45 had reviewed Grant Morrison's NEW X-MEN, and worst still it seems, reviewed it positively. 'I thought Page 45 was an Indie shop!' - or words to that effect. Now, in how many ways is that peculiar, do you think?

My love affair with this title is no secret (though my love affair with Mark Millar is something I'm hoping to keep under wraps): not least because of the pencils, the inks and the colouring, which are the closest to classical excellence ever seen in a comic including, nay far eclipsing, Neal Adams. That wouldn't do it for me alone, but Millar fills the work with media winks, geopolitical nudges, and a cast of fully rounded mentalists. The three finest transformations here are Nick Fury from tiresome, cigar-chomping geriatric to a charismatic Samuel L. Jackson with real military know-how, Thor from 'I-say-thee-nay', socially disinterested transdimensional commuter to anti-establishment European with charm and style and much better lightning, and, perhaps most impressively, Captain America from goody-two-shoes stooge to straight-down-the-line, WWII soldier with an attitude, a temper, and a knack for one-liners. Although sour-faced Jarvis, bespectacled butler and bitchy old queen, is also good for a laugh. I don't know if the following is remotely intelligible, but it was great fun to compile...

'They made trading cards of me?'

'All gone to charity now, I'm afraid. I think I gave them away with the Faberge eggs and the vintage Playboys, if I'm not mistaken.'

'Just a shame you couldn't bear to part with your late mother's evening wear when you were taking part in this execrable new-age nonsense, eh, Master Tony?'

'Oh, God. Here we go again. I thought this was your night off anyway, Jarvis. Aren't you supposed to be going down to the club tonight with Alfred and all those other old degenerates?'

'Oh, but I cancelled the moment I heard who we were entertaining, Master Tony. Even the club can't compete with a Super-Soldier and an Asgardian God.'

'You're wasting your time, you know, Jarvis. Do you seriously think Captain America and Thor have even noticed that preposterous new waistcoat of yours?'

'Give it time, young sir. Give it time. I'm feeling jolly lucky this evening, you know.'

* * *

'Well, in response to your first point; getting people to sign up for the most dangerous job in the world is always going to be a challenge, Larry. That said, we are talking to the Norse God, Thor...'

* * *

'I've known who I was since I was twelve years old, but it wasn't until my nervous breakdown that everything became clear to me. I am God made man... the living incarnation of a Norse thunder deity sent here by my father in Valhalla to purify the Earth again.'

'You think we need to be purified?'

'Take a look around you, Captain... your world is being bled dry while your people grow dull-eyed and hypnotised by reality TV and Playstation 2. I'm here to wake you all up again before mankind sleepwalks their way into oblivion.'

'Don't you think joining The Ultimates could provide a useful platform to get that message out there, Thor?'

'No, joining The Ultimates would be condoning every reprehensible action taken by the wretched military-industrial complex who pay your wages, Tony.'

* * *

'...And Hank Pym is already working on a unique artificial intelligence with a variety of extra-normal abilities.'

'Can you seriously justify a fifty billion dollar headquarters off the coast of Manhattan when there's only been one notable super-villain attack in American History? What if it's another ten years before someone like Magneto comes along? Supposing it never even happens again?'

'With the greatest respect, that's the craziest argument I ever heard, Larry. Isn't that like refusing to take out medical insurance because you can't imagine yourself getting sick?'

* * *

'The budget cuts we're making in the regular army are going to make us a political hot potato as it is. Why do you think I'm not risking any mutants in the initial line-up?'

'Is that why you were so keen the get me on board? Do I bring a little rented respectability to the party, General?'

'Never made a secret of it, Tony. You're a trusted brand name in everything from internet software to aspartame-polluted diet soda. And, of course the new Iron Man armour you devised in the mountains doesn't exactly hurt your case either. Light-negativity, thought-scramblers, a tracking-system that could find a Democrat in Texas -- this is everything we S.H.I.E.L.D. boys ever fantasised about, man.'

* * *

'Hold on, you know who would be brilliant as Bruce Banner? The one who'd really pull of that bug-eyed neuroticism he's turned into an art-form?'

'Wait, let me guess; Woody Allen if he dropped a few pounds?'

* * *

'Betty? Oh thank God your phone wasn't switched off or anything. There's something I've got to tell you, Honey. Something really important...'

'Bruce? Is that you? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm in the middle of dinner with Freddie Prinze Jr. -- We started off talking about the idea of him playing Iron Man, but when I told him about the Super-Soldier serum you were trying to crack, he said he wanted in on that too. I'm not kidding, Bruce, this guy wants to be a super hero as much as Nicholas Cage.'

'Betty, will you shut up?! We don't have much time here. I've something stupid again and I think you're in serious danger, sweetheart...'

'Excuse me...? Bruce, I want you to calm down and tell me exactly what you've done wrong, okay?'

'I just felt bad about not being able to crack the formula so I mixed Cap's blood with the Hulk serum and injected the whole thing into the cephalic vein of my anteorbiral forsa, Betty.'

'What? Why would you do that?'

'Well, the way I rationalised it was that turning myself into The Monster and giving everyone something to fight was the only was I could stop my life's dream from going up in smoke... But the honest-to-God truth of the matter is that I just missed being big.'

'Bruce? BRUCE?!'

* * *

'Banner too much of a woman for you, Betty? Maybe it's time you gave Hulk a try, huh?'

* * *

'Oh my God! He's going to kill Hank! Somebody back him up! Somebody back -him up!'

'Take it easy, Jan. I've got him. Nick, I need a big, empty building to slam Banner into. What can you do for me?'

'Evacuation crews are clearing everything within a three mile radius, Tony. Gimme ten seconds and I'll punch up a zip code for you.'

'Ten more seconds and this lunatic will have peeled his way through to my G-string, General.'

* * *

'[Hank] was exactly the same back in college, Tony. All hearts and flowers and love-letters during lectures, and then some days Jan would walk into the cafeteria with chunks missing out of her hair...'

***

'Wasp, you're up next. Cap wants Banner up on forty-Second and Fifth ASAP. You copy?'

'Roger that, General. Hey, Banner! Betty Ross got a rack as nice as these?'

'A double PhD and the only way you can think of to distract The Hulk is with a Mardi Gras special?'

* * *

'...Back when we were sharing a room together he got drunk after failing some physics paper and put her head through the bathroom door. The year after I switched courses I heard he got angry about her dancing with a first-year student at the Christmas party and punched her so hard the roof of her mouth split in two.'

'Good God...'

* * *

'You shouldn't have made me look small, Jan. You shouldn't have made me look small.'

Locas: A Love & Rockets Book hc (£32-99, Fantagraphics) by Jaime Hernandez -

'Quite simply, this is one of the twentieth century's most significant comic creators at the peak of his form, with every line a wedding of classicism and cool.'

- Alan Moore

I saw a thing on Edward Hopper on BBC1 the other night and his calm canvasses reminded me of Jaime Hernandez. The presenter, can't remember who it was, said that in Hopper's work there was either nothing going on or his characters were waiting for something to happen. You'll see a lot of that in this book, quiet times when people are breathing out and ready for the next moment to occur because it always does.

This is chocolate/egg mayonnaise reading. If something's not quite right, a dip into one of these tales will always comfort me. At 780 pages there's a lot of comfort here.

This is about Maggie starting in the early 1980's punk scene in Southern California. She falls for Hopey Glass, a whirlwind of emotion and trouble, sometimes more trouble than she's worth and the web of friendships, family and lovers spans out from there. Over twenty years we see their on-again-off-again relationship as Maggie grows from angry young punk into a mature woman with need of direction in her life. Jaime tells a story with great subtlety. At the comics have come out over the years, many tales have seemed like small vignettes, untied to any thought of continuity, little slices, character studies. But that's just looking at tiny details. Stand back or read a year's worth of stories in one sitting and you see that big things have been happening, you've been guided through and story but it's been in the background all the time. He still does that to me, half my life later, and I love it. I've probably rambled on about his crowd scenes before and his part scenes in particular. Give him a gathering of people and there's not one just standing there to fill up space. You can see that they're on their way somewhere or waiting (Hopper-like) or reacting to something else in the panel or, my favourite, something outside of the panel.

[Please note: postage £5-00, but anything on top of that will be postage free.]

Doom Patrol vol 2: The Painting That Ate Paris (£12-99, DC Vertigo) by Grant Morrison & Richard Case. The Brotherhood Of Dada, on a quest for total global absurdity, steal a painting described as 'hungry' and let it lose. It quickly swallows Paris. Cliff, Crazy Jane and Rebis find themselves in an infinite, recursive world of paintings within paintings, and Paris itself is transformed into enough art movements to satisfy Sister Wendy. So many ideas and so much fun, from Mr. Nobody, barely glimpsed out of the corner of your eye, railing like Rick Mayall as an aesthete, to the Hiroshima Shadows, Weeping Blades and a plague of bodiless mouths, while the Pale Police will tempt you to spend hours trying to decipher the anagrams which are their only means of communication. And this time you can. Plus Cliff takes a trip into the fractured mind of Crazy Jane, and Morrison introduces The Quizz, a girl with a fear of dirt in possession of every superpower you haven't thought of. Yes, the only way to strip her abilities is to think them up fast. 'Flight' won't bring her to ground until you've conjured up 'levitation', nor to ground-level unless you remember 'height multiplication', 'stretching', 'spinning of spider webs' and 'density reduction'. Why not pair off and role-play the game yourself? 'In five seconds you'll be burned alive.' 'Err, flame throwing, heat generation, nuclear fission, napalm breath --' 'Time out, and I'm afraid you missed transmogrification.' 'I can't even spell it!'

Supreme Power vol 2: Powers & Principalities (£9-99, Marvel) by J. Michael Straczynski & Gary Frank.

'Reporters can be bribed, intimidated, or if need be... removed. That, not exposure, should have been your first response to the problem.'

America's best kept secret was the existence of a young man they named Mark. He arrived in an alien pod as a baby, and was found by a local couple who brought him home to live with them... for all of five seconds. Since then he's been brought up by the US government in seclusion, by surrogate parents he believed were his own, to be the model American citizen, and the ultimate weapon to their cause. Now their secret's out, but they have a contingency plan. Mark is used as a distraction, rescuing people from fires on national television while a soldier fused to a whispering crystal from that self-same pod carries out covert operations all over the globe. 'If he's here, on camera, he couldn't be in the Arctic Sea at the same moment that a Russian nuclear sub we wanted to take a look at vanished under mysterious circumstances. Or when Bolivian anti-government squads are wiped out in the middle of the night without a trace except for the gratitude of the Bolivian government.'

Very good. But America's best kept secret wasn't the existence of Mark. America's best kept secret was that they were manipulating Mark.

Now he's found out...

Meanwhile, every night, for two thousand years, a votive offering of fruit and bread has been laid in the ancient hidden chamber dedicated to a supposed princess. The tradition has been passed down for generation after generation. But something is stirring, as above so below, and the world of men will not know what's hit it. By the way, the military haven't been content to indoctrinate Mark, attempt to kill him, or create their own super-soldier by using the crystal they found in that pod. Oh, no, they've used the DNA found there to see if they can't splice it with humans'. Expendable humans - those serving life sentences for murder and rape. They wanted the grafts to take. They really wanted the grafts to take, and they took.

They really didn't want those grafts to take...

All this and more as the series I initially had little faith in (based on Straczynski's disappointing performance on RISING STARS) really starts hitting its political stride, helped in no small part by Gary Frank, an artist on a par with Cassady and Hitch. His underwater female mutation is gorgeously designed, and very, very sad. I get fired up by works like PERSEPOLIS. Stuff by Andi Watson or Nabiel Kanan. By works like PREACHER and SANDMAN and JIMMY CORRIGAN, and, of course, anything by Alan Moore. I get fired up by THE ULTIMATES. I get fired up by this.

Bighead (£8-50, Topshelf) by Jeffrey Brown - Just arrived so next month there'll be some sort of review, possibly with me trying to justify my belief that superheroes are a dead genre with nothing more to say while still loving this book.

1602 h/c (£16-99, Marvel) by Neil Gaiman & Andy Kubert, Richard Isanove. I'm not going to tread on Tom's shoes by offering a second review of the story when his was perfectly excellent (see s/c @ £12-99 last month), but how satisfying was it to get a book in the UK a month before the material is offered to the American market? So if all you're interested in is reading the story, go for the softcover, you've just saved four quid. If, on the other hand, you're into the art, this is so much more beautiful, being bigger in size and rescued from Panini's appalling design sense which inexplicably compelled them to plonk a cold, grey spine on the UK release, and white borders inside for each of the covers, deftly destroying the atmosphere between each chapter. None of that here, it's seamless. Other bonuses include several pages of 'enhanced pencils' from Kubert, along with an explanation of the process involved in creating the straight-to-colour pages used here and in ORIGIN, a look at the techniques used on the Scott McKowen's covers, and Neil's full script to the first issue.

My Faith In Frankie (£4-50, DC Vertigo) by Mike Carey & Sony Liew, Marc Hempel >> Mike Carey is best known for runs on LUCIFER and HELLBLAZER which, while starting well, have had a tendency to sag into inconsequentiality. Romantic comedies are best known for starring Meg Ryan and/or Tom Hanks, making Hollywood stupid amounts of money and causing extreme nausea to all right-thinking individuals. So you really wouldn't expect a Mike Carey romantic comedy to be a tempting proposition, but somehow MY FAITH IN FRANKIE works perfectly. It's one of those rare comics you can give to the lapsed comics reader, the newcomer or the aficionado and have them all loving it.

The set-up's fairly simple, in a whimsical way; teenage Frankie Moxon has her own personal deity, Jeriven, who has made sure she has a perfect life. He protects her from everything life throws at her, including boys, because he's a jealous god. Rounding out the cast are her geeky best friend Kay, and resurrected love-interest Dean Baxter. As for the plot...well, it'd be a shame to spoil even the early twists and turns, but suffice to say that every time you expect it to take the obvious route, the Hollywood route, into schmaltz and suckiness - you're proven deliciously wrong. And it repays rereading - developments which seem fun but random the first time were in fact prefigured wonderfully, you just didn't notice because you weren't being hit over the head with the Portentous Foreshadowing stick.

Carey's style is dead-on too - it's light without lacking emotional depth when necessary, and as such ideal for the teenage mindsets of this cast. Or even the teenage-equivalent mindsets of young gods, because they don't have any easier a time of it than us mortals - one bullying godling tells Jeriven 'Your mom doth reveal herself unto the heathen'. In a story ranging from Olympus to suburbia, the wrong authorial voice could have crippled MFIF by making one feel more real than the other, but he's judged this one just right. Meanwhile, Sonny Liew and Marc Hempel's engaging art echoes manga without trying too hard, in much the same way Chynna Clugston-Major's does (and combined with the teen romance angle, this is definitely one for the BLUE MONDAY fans). It's a shame DC lost the cartoony but vibrant colours for this collection, but if it enables them to price and market it more accessibly then it's an understandable sacrifice; this deserves to be read as widely as possible.

Sandman Mystery Theatre vol 1: The Tarantula (£6-50, Vertigo/DC) by Matt Wagner & Guy Davis. For me this series marked the high tide of both Matt Wagner's and Guy Davis' careers to date: crime fiction populated by remote or cruel parents, brutal, often sexual sadists, their helpless victims and broken progeny, in a dark, per-war, post-Prohibition America. Rarely outside of FROM HELL has a comic been so successfully steeped in and anchored to its era. Guy Davis' slightly flabby faces, drab clothing, gritty textures and impenetrable night are as accomplished as Campbell's were for Moore's Victorian graphic novel (so it's a shame this is in colour, almost), and Wagner (with later help from Steven T. Seagle) served up mystery after mystery which the reader could actively engage in solving before the main protagonists.

Wesley Dodds is the apparently dry and studious heir to a now deceased businessman, perfectly at home with judges and lawyers. But all is not as it seems, for Wesley's sleep is troubled by enigmatic nightmares which compel him to rise and follow their elusive leads. Far across town Dian Belmont is both a romantic and a deep thinker, something rare in her socialite circle. She also has a strong will and a reckless streak her doting District Attorney father does his inadequate best to curb. As the first story opens Dian's life is one of gossip, privilege and parties, but she's in for a rude awakening - and about to meet the man of her dreams.

Sandman Mystery Theatre vol 2: The Face & The Brute (£12-99, Vertigo/DC) by Matt Wagner & John Watkiss, R.G. Taylor. Then they made a mistake: they let other artists in. Although this was later rectified when Guy Davis was invited to become resident pencil scratcher, it was a little too late because this second story arc, set in Chinatown, put a lot of people off - including myself, almost. A huge shame, because virtually everything that followed, including the third four-parter included here, proved gripping. Wagner continued to explore the realities of economic hardship, contemporary prejudices and dark family secrets. There's a particularly upsetting sequence involving the sickly young daughter of a professional fighter. Dian and Wesley's compassion always provided a stark contrast to the seediness of what they'd encounter, and of course their burgeoning romance created a momentum which propelled the series ever onwards, towards the growing threat of World War II.

Courtney Crumrin In The Twilight Kingdom (£7-99, Oni) by Ted Naifeh

'He'll be lonely without me.'

'He'll get over it. We all do. There are worse things than loneliness.'

A real leap here for what was already an attractive, all-ages series, as young Courtney visits her old neighbourhood after spending months at her uncle's house, while her worn-out parents try, unsuccessfully, to sell their old home. There her former best friend, Malcom, has fallen under the influence of two house-breaking idiots, because there's really nothing else for him left (you'll find out why, later in a very cleverly directed twist), and falls out with Courtney as she tries her best to steer him away from them - again, unsuccessfully. And it's very tenderly done, but only the prologue of a tale which will take Courtney on a reluctant journey from the grounds of her school to the Twilight Kingdom, in order to find the cure for a carelessly cast curse placed on one brother by the other. Friendship and responsibility seem to be the themes on offer, all concealed under a gothic facade of fantasy and danger, and portrayed with some lush artwork which has drawn Charles Vess' admiration. It's the third in the series, and does touch upon old plot points, but can be read independently. A quietly touching ending, and a very cool read.

Little Giant h/c (£8-99, Gullane) by Simone Lia. Full-colour children's book, and the recipient of a recent illustration award, as you might expect from the creator of FLUFFY. You can spot the trademark mouth a mile off. There's not much to say except that it's a young girl imagining herself as a big as she wants to be, but just the right size for a cuddle. I don't want to mis-sell this, so when I say 'children's book', I'm not talking the sort of thing which is equally entertaining to adults, like WOLVES IN THE WALL or SCARY GODMOTHER, or COURTNEY CRUMRIN. This is very early learning. Sweet, though. If you have young children, nieces etc., give Simone a sale.

Your Favourite Seuss h/c (£23-50, Random House) by Dr. Seuss. Thirteen children's favourites in a huge and heavy, value-for-money edition. Postage £5-00.

Bear vol 1: Immortal (£9-99, Amaze Ink) by Jamie Smart. More cute/dead stuff for the tweeny goth crowd, some of it highly diverting - particularly the Jane Austen parody, Beast & Bestiality.

Hellboy: Weird Tales vol 2 (£12-99, Dark Horse) by many, including John Cassady and Jill Thompson, Evan Dorkin too. Plus Ben Templesmith. And Scott Morse. Not forgetting Kaluta or J.H. Williams III or Frank Cho or Craig Thompson, and certainly not Akira Yoshida. P. Craig Russell's here too, along with Gene Colan and Jim Starlin. Others join in.

Hellboy: Odder Jobs (£10-99, Dark Horse) by various. Prose short stories with occasional illustrations by Mignola.

IDW's Tales Of Terror h/c (£10-99, IDW) by Steve Niles & Ben Templesmith, plus many more. IDW's annual, if you like, with new stories featuring familiar faces, including a new instalment of 30 DAYS OF NIGHT.

The Life Eaters s/c (£12-99, DC Wildstorm) by David Brin & Scott Hampton. I think this would have been more successfully marketed as a Vertigo book, given its mythological element and painted art. A result of Brin musing on whether there might have been anything more to the Nazi's meddling with mysticism, the book kicks off with a last desperate attempt to turn the tide of World War II in the Allies' favour, just as the Germans turned its tide on the arrival of Norse Gods a generation ago. Yes, we're well past 1945 here, and its a miracle we've survived this long. We probably wouldn't have but for our own secret weapon, Loki, but can he be trusted? You can just about discern the origins of this graphic novel in the novella 'Thor Meets Captain America' - indeed I can see Iron Man if I'm not much mistaken, but don't tell Marvel's lawyers. It's a dense read, and one I confess I haven't finished yet. It's going to be moving all around the shelves until I can work out where it sells best, so feel free to just ask at the counter it you want to be pointed in its direction.

The Authority: Human On The Inside h/c (£16-99, DC Wildstorm) by John Ridley & Ben Oliver. In which The Authority are given the Vertigo treatment (essentially: add elements of classical mythology - in this case the Erinyes - and muddy the colours to khaki and brown). John Ridley, as DC never tire of insisting, wrote the Three Kings screenplay, and there are some moments here of... well, if not eloquence, an attempt to appear eloquent. The basic idea is that The Authority are undone by their humanity (read: emotional baggage), whilst a wave of despair, so destructive that it will cause the human race to implode in the Mother of all Sulks, is being drawn inexorably from the future to the present. And the key to solving this is for a (gratuitously) tortured Shen to hug a child. Bless. Unfortunately the wave of despair continued to wash over me long after the story ended and well into the afternoon, fuelled by another cheap shot at France (who actually had the courage to stand up to Bush over Iraq if you recall, Ridley - without which Bush might have charged in earlier with even less of a plan for peace than the culpable inaction which resulted in so much suffering and understandable resentment on the part of the initially elated Iraqi populace), and an abrupt, deeply unsatisfying hocus-pocus ending I spent half an hour trying to justify in my head. And I could, in the end, just about, but I'm reasonably sure that's not my job, or the generally desired response. I couldn't justify the Erinyes' involvement at all, though, or their connection to the President's resident schemester. Customer Ted Williams was wondering whether it was just him. It wasn't, Ted. Pencils range from impressive to can't-tell-who-that-is-by-their-face, which is always slightly annoying.

Coup D'Etat (£8-50, DC Wildstorm) by Brubaker, Casey, Morrison, Wright & Jim Lee, D'Anda, Garza, Portacio. First chapter features some of Jim Lee's finest art to date, more fluid and with harsher textures. The rest is the inevitably messy result of a game of literary consequences, where one writer hands on to another who hasn't seen the previous script. I'm not blaming anyone, just saying what a stupid idea it is generally. The Authority are finally pissed off enough to remove the President of The United States from office and take charge themselves. It's the logical step in the title's progression, emphasising the totalitarian nature of their unilateral liberation campaign, which Jenny Sparks announced right from the get-go ('We're going to change the world, whether the world likes it or not.' - may not be verbatim, I've leant my oversized 'Absolute' edition to Gus, more on whom in a moment). If only Ellis had been around to handle this and the fallout himself, it might have been proved a little meatier than this undercooked hotchpotch.

Batman: Hush vol 2 s/c (£8-50, DC) by Jeph Loeb & Jim Lee. The second half of the story which brought Jim Lee out of the office and and back into fanboys' hearts. He's been the last decade's John Byrne, and although he stagnated halfway through, he's certainly not let himself 'go' like Byrne did, and is now beginning to show fresh signs of vitality. Certainly enjoyed the subtle Neal Adams homage during the R'as Al Ghul-- Ra's All-- the fight sequence with that ancient chappie. Against his better judgement, Batman has allowed himself to fall for Catwoman, just as his life is turned upside down by what can only be an orchestrated series of catastrophes from the death of a friend to the resurrection of the second Robin.

Even when he's getting his tonsils tickled, the man can't bring himself to smile. Bruce, those endorphins... you'd feel the benefit, I swear.

Superman: True Brit h/c (£16-99, DC Elseworlds) by Kim 'Howard' Johson, John Cleese & John Byrne. I'm going to take a look myself next month, but in the meantime having John Cleese's name attached to his hardcover guarantees mainstream press attention (although I imagine he's had even less input than David Beckham did with his autobiography), so I thought I'd lend it out to The Real Mainstream in the form of my builder, Gus, and his good wife and STRANGERS IN PARADISE reader, Ryz.

Here's Gus: 'I cannot think of anything interesting to say about it, nor would anyone else who read it. It's like misty buff woodchip wallpaper: completely unnecessary. Now, are you sure you don't want a bidet...?'

Here's Ryz: 'I wouldn't bother to read it. You've seen VIZ? It's a less intelligent version of that, really. Only not funny. I clenched my way thru half, then decided I didn't want to waste any more of my life on it. x'

Looks like I'm in for absolutely seconds of fun.

Marvel Knights Spider-Man vol 1: Down Among The Dead Men (£6-50, Marvel) by Mark Millar & Terry Dodson. It's no it's no silk purse, but it's more than a pack of pork scratchings. If you're a Spider-Man fan, you will be delighted: after 40 years of juvenile, see-through drivel that would insult the intelligence of a mollusc, you have Bendis on ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN, Straczynski on AMAZING SPIDER-MAN, and now Mark Millar on this frantic, 12-issue fist-fight whilst an increasingly battered and bewildered Peter desperately searches for his abducted Aunt May, without the slightest clue as to who dunnit, and, other than the Black Cat, absolutely no help from his superpowered peers. He can't even tell them who he's looking for, because to do so would give away his identity under the mask, the knowledge of which brought about her kidnapping in the first place. Just like BATMAN: HUSH, all the top tier villains are here, but given a lot more of a fleshing out either than the aforementioned HUSH, or indeed than in most of their previous appearances put together. Millar even donates a page to a hired gun with Crohn's Disease, but so far the stars have been the Vulture, his daughter-in-law (next volume), and Electro's post-prison sexual preferences. On the other hand I have to concede that little more has stuck with me, to the extent that I couldn't pick out a suitably snappy quotation. It's entertaining, it's pretty, and you can't help joining in and trying to solve the mystery. I mean it - I'm entertained, and more consistently than by Straczynski. Look at that full stop there. It's to separate the the genuine plus from the unfortunate minus that it hasn't come up aces. Yet.

Men In Hats (£6-50 Keenspot Entertainment) by Aaron Farber. First off, I do not have a prejudice against web comics. I very much enjoyed both SINFEST books, and to judge material by its location or method of delivery is absurd. Nor is it vanity publishing any more than whipping off a hundred comics on a photocopier, it's just cheaper with the potential to reach a far wider audience. I think it's a fantastic way to make your name, build up a following, then make your money upon printing. And so to this piece of pointless garbage, as punchless as a poodle in a puddle of tar. It's not just that it is glaringly ugly (and it is), nor that the cast consist of men in hats (isn't that a scream of a premise?) who look like badly drawn Fisher Price toys in the middle of a labour-reducing desert. It's that all twenty strips that I could manage displayed absolutely no talent for humour. No judgement about what is and isn't funny, and not even the slightest glimmer of comedic timing. I'd quote a piece as evidence, but I want you to enjoy this mailshot, not endure it.

How Not To Draw Manga (£12-99 AP) by Reid & Kantz. This, however, took two seconds flipped open at a random page to make me chuckle. 'Speed lines [densely packed lines used to denote fast movement, as employed to excellent effect in LONEWOLF & CUB, and mishandled dreadfully by Rob Liefeld] aren't just time-savers. They can create an 'optical illusion' that will hypnotise your reader! No one will be able to tell what's going on, but damn, they'll know it's cool!' 'In this story, Jenny is a geisha. Geishas are like prostitutes, but they serve tea too. And sometimes they don't have crabs. The Oni-Yang comes from Shinto, the Japanese form of voodoo. 'Oni' means monster, and 'yang' refers to the 'yin-yang' symbol, which shows the world you're down with eastern mysticism. Look for the yin-yang when buying clothes, lava lamps, and other products.' I don't have time to find out if the rest is as funny (and accurate), I have to get the copy back out on the shelves, but we'll be ordering more, and I'll have my fill then.

Doctor Who: Dragon's Claw (£14-99, Panini) by Steve Moore, Steve Parkhouse & Dave Gibbons, Steve Parkhouse. Tom Baker adventures, and the most remarkable thing about this reprint of old DOCTOR WHO WEEKLY strips is that Gibbons' Baker is an absolutely spot-on likeness. Okay, it's the only remarkable thing.

Aliens vs. Predator: Thrill Of The Hunt (£4-50, Dark Horse) by Mike Kennedy & Roger Robinson. And the only remarkable thing about this - I have endured thirty pages on your behalf, and a degree of thanks is in order - is that they'd hire an artist so dreary when both these franchises centre on spectacle. If I asked each one of you to predict what happens here, you would, I am convinced, all send me identical emails beginning with, 'A bunch of humans land on a planet...' and ending in '... killed in a big explosion'. Would an Alien nest feature? How about a little essay on the nature of hunting? It's almost the price of the film ticket, for fuck's sake.

George Romero's Dawn Of The Dead (£12-99, IDW) by Steve Niles & Chee - Zombies, eh? Love 'em or hate 'em, you can't live without them. There always there and not just for the boring parts of life either. This retells the film. Which is available on dvd and possibly video. Buy THE WALKING DEAD instead.

Dan Dare vol 2: The Red Moon Mystery h/c (£14-99, Titan) by Frank Hampson. Lavish, oversized album reproducing another batch of the two-page strips which formed the colour cover and back page to the classic British EAGLE comic

Chris Ware (£14-99, Monographics) by Dan Raeburn - Excellent, scholarly book that I'm three or four pages into. It seems good so far. Raeburn produced four issues of The Imp and still has way too many of the final issues. It was about Mexican trash comics and was utterly fab. Meanwhile, I did get a look at the pictures in this book and, until I read all of it, it's a damn good reason for putting down fifteen notes. Photos of the mechanical cat machine and other Acme related items. Mock-ups for books we'll never see. Pages from RUSTY BROWN that we've never seen. Bits of JIMMY CORRIGAN that were never reprinted. A photo of a toy that Ware made for Raeburn of Raeburn. The man writes with passion.

Ruby Gloom's Keys To Happiness (£8-99, Harry Abrams) by Clam Lynch & Martin Hsu. Black velvet-covered, illustrated h/c booklet based on the Ruby Gloom merchandise brand, which is pretty much interchangeable with Emily The Strange (young girl into being moody and spooky), handing out aphorisms to set you on the road to inner peace ('Absence makes the heart grow fonder... so get lost!' 'You should try everything at least once... just get someone else to try it first.'). They'll fly out at Christmas.

Intron Depot vol 4: Bullets (£32-99, Dark Horse) by Masamune Shirow - This one has sketches and production drawings for various video games and animations he's worked on. These include 'Blue Ray', 'Gundress', 'Horned Owl' and 'Sampaguita'. Fewer breasts than usual.

500 Comicbook Villains (£12-99, Collins & Brown) by Mike Conroy. Companion book to the recently reissued (and back in stock) 500 COMICBOOK HEROES, which divides the villains into male, female, teams, enemies of the people, monsters & machines, sorcerers and space invaders. Mike takes time out to provide larger spotlights on some of the characters, and mini-essays on things like heroes turning bad. There's even an entry for Stan Lee here. Why? Ah no, you'll have to buy the book. Okay, first person to give the correct answer wins a free graphic novel of your choosing, postage paid, as long as it's under £15. (Don't say I never do anything for you, Mike!) We should do more of these competitions. Although I haven't heard back from the dashing Danny Edgar who won Antony Johnston's excellent Shakespeare revival, JULIUS (signed, unique edition). Did you get the joke in the dedication, Danny? (Clue: the competition was to spot our typos, and Antony had a mischievous moment!) Email replies only, please.

Writers On Comics Scriptwriting vol 2 (£14-99, Titan) by Tom Root & Andrew Kardon, featuring Mark Millar, Brian Bendis, Dave Sim, Brian Azzarello, Kevin Smith, Peter Milligan, Brian K. Vaughan, Mike Mignola and more. For more on this book, see THE COMICS JOURNAL in the comics section below. There are now so many cash-ins on young readers' desperate aspirations to hop over to the other side of the metaphorical counter and become comicbook professionals, that it may prove difficult to discern what may prove useful from what is amateur pontification by those unqualified to edit one of those neighbourhood newsletters that you find stuck halfway through your letterbox, letting the heat out. This, like the first volume, is useful stuff indeed, and another engaging look at the current state of the industry as seen through the eyes of several top-name writers. Hell, they're just great interviews if you're interested in the writers involved, full of side-bars explaining various subjects the interviewees may have referred to. It comes as no surprise that THE ULTIMATES is full of politics when you learn that not only does the man write and embellish speeches for real-life politicians, but is sincerely interested in a political career somewhere down the line. Bendis provides an interesting insight into why his dialogue is so consistently praised (and extensively quoted here), in that he doesn't just use it to advance a storyline, he's genuinely interested in what the characters (who actually listen to each other) have to say, and open to that sometimes determining the content and direction of any given issue. Dave Sim, being a writer/artist, offers a mind-boggling insight into all the adjustments he makes to each page depending on what the writer in him wants, the artist in him discovers and the letterer in him dictates. And Bendis maintains that it's almost impossible to learn how to write scripts for comics without studying actual scripts, which is another reason why he releases so many himself (the first being the cash or the ego, I expect; but he deserves the first and has so earned the second), and sure enough, many samples are available here, proving that there's no one right way to write a comicbook script even for a single writer - it can depend on which artist you're writing for. I was incredulous that in this day an age the authors of this book could possibly describe either BONE or STRANGERS IN PARADISE as 'Small Press' - as if there's anything 'small' about being translated into far more languages than most Marvel or DC books - but there you boldly go. Or don't.

The DC Comics Encyclopaedia (£30-00). 350 pages, £5-00 postage.

A Blazing World: Companion to The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen vol 2 (£10-50 Monkeybrain Books) by Jess Nevins. Panel by panel dissection of the second series, plus interviews with Alan Moore (forty pages) and Kevin O'Neil, both on hand to make sure Jess doesn't make too much up. And it seems Alan is even more exasperated at being asked about whether he's seen the film than we are here. The interview finds him in searingly fine form: 'And yes, there's plenty of bad comics and there's plenty of bad books and there's plenty of bad record albums, but the reason I think I hate the movie industry is that if I make a bad comic, it does not cost a hundred millions dollars, which is the budget of an emergent small third world African nation. And this is money that could have gone to alleviating some of the immense suffering in this world but has instead gone to giving bored, apathetic, lazy, indifferent Western teenage boys, largely, another way of killing 90 minutes of their interminable and seemingly pointless lives.' Oh, pass the remote control, you grumpy old bugger.

also shipped:

Hopeless Savages vol 3 (£7-99, Oni) by Van Meter & Norrie

Starman vol 9: Grand Guingol (£12-99 DC) by James Robinson & Peter Snejbjerg

Batman/Judge Dredd Files (£12-99 DC) by Grant, Wagner & Bisley, Critchlow, Fabry, Murray.

Batman: Hong Kong s/c (£11-99, DC) by Doug Moench & Tony Wong

Witches: The Gathering (£6-50 Marvel) by Carlton, Hawkins, Walsh & Deodato Jr.

Wolverine/Punisher (£8-99 Marvel) by Milligan & Weeks.

Strangers In Paradise pocket book vol 2 (£11-99 Abstract Studios) by Terry Moore.

Challengers Of The Unknown Must Die (£12-99 DC) by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale

CSI: Demon House (£9-99 Titan) by Max Allan Collins & Rodriguez

Wolverine vol 3: Return Of The Native (£11-99, Marvel) by Rucka & Robertson

Incredible Hulk vol 8: Big Things (£11-99 Marvel) by Jones & Deodato Jr., Robertson, Braithwaite

Punisher: Born s/c (£8-99 Marvel) by Ennis & Robertson

Hard Time vol 1 (£6-50 DC) by Steve Gerber & Brian Hurtt

Essential Monster Of Frankenstein (£10-99 Marvel) by a crypt-full.

Cable & Deadpool vol 1 (£9-99, Marvel) by Nicieza & Brooks

JSA vol 6: Savage Times (£9-99, DC) by Geoff Johns & Leonard Kirk, Patrick Gleason

Batman: As The Crow Flies (£8-50, DC) by Judd Winnick & Dustin Nguyen

Exiles vol 8 (£9-99, Marvel) byTony Bedard & Mizyuki Sakakibara, Jim Calafiore

Essential Tob Of Dracula vol 3 (£10-99, Marvel) by Marv Wolfman & Gene Colan & co.

Superman: Birthright h/c (£19-99, DC) by Mark Waid and Leinil Yu

m a n g a

Othello vol.1 (£7-50, Del Ray) by Satomi Ikezawa ~ Kind of got this and Wallflower (£7-50) in on the back the success Del Ray have had with Tsubasa and Negima. This, mind you, fully deserves to be a smash on its own, as it has buckets of humour and originality to spare, while Wallflower (translate as hairy legs) is like one of those annoying teen movies where a girl with specs on gets a 'makeover' and gets to be prom queen. Othello veers more toward Carrie side of things. Timid girl Yaya has two very bitchy, mean school friends whose goal is to make Yaya the butt of every joke, so they can rub her face in it. The sort of people who make you feel small so they can feel better about themselves. Nasty. Yaya's only relief comes at the weekend when she can doll up like a goth-loll and meet other fans of her favourite band Juliet. She uses a costume name, Nana, no-one at these fan club meetings knows who she really is, or is that no-one at school? Yaya certainly isn't sure anymore as every time she's shoe-gazing, feeling threatened and catches a glimpse of her self in a reflection, she lets Nana out. Nana does the things you only think of in retrospect and wish you had the guts to do at the time (the French have a phrase for that, can't think what it is now). [L'esprit de l'escalier - Francophile ed.] Bit Jeckle & Hyde, obviously, but with a refreshing lack of a fantasy element - Yaya/Nana's just crazy. I know crazy women. Crazy woman I can relate to.

Legal Drug vol.1 (£6-50, Tokyopop) by CLAMP ~ Kazahaya Kudo works at Green Drug pharmacy with a tall moody feller called Rikuo and their boss, Kakei. Kakei took them both off the streets, gave them a place (the storeroom) and now they earn there keep filling shelves and sweeping up. Or at least that's how it seems to outside world. When the doors at Green Drug close, Kazahaya and Rikuo really start to pay the rent. By going on secret paranormal missions for their boss. Oh! They have strange psychic powers too, which kind of helps. Although the plot seems kinda throwaway (which they often do with) CLAMP have a great knack of leaving things unsaid or unexplained. Like the guys' powers, the origins of which will probably be explained in a later volume. With much dramatic posturing and a flurry of multiple close-ups/speedlines. Or the fact that almost all the male characters are gay. Which isn't an issue, so there's no prolonged thoughtful insights into what it is to be gay, because only groups of straight men do that. I love the design with this book, lots of nice green on black. It's bookended by crisp, green-tinted tracing paper with silhouettes of one the protagonists on each. The suspicious leaf motif from the logo pops up again throughout. The credits are titled Staff Drug, the ads are AD Drug and so on. CLAMP books don't often retain their indulgent design after translation and it's nice to see Tokyopop push the boat out a little with this one.

The One I Love (£6-50), Tokyopop by CLAMP ~ Collection of short stories on love-related matters, such as how come girls are never satisfied by there appearance? And why is the word 'cute' so vague? Oh! And cake!

Hellbabies (£32-99, Editions Treville) by Junko Mizuno - This has taken about two years to arrive here at Page 45 so I apologise for the wait. Mizuno's sumptuous diseased fairytales (CINDERALLA, HANSEL & GRETEL, PRINCESS MERMAID) have been strong sellers here and a personal delight but here we get full colour, soft-focus portraits of the many wayward spirits of her world. Under the pink vinyl, glittery, padded dustjacket you get 92 pages of lactating, crying, sneaky, devilish, assured, possessed girls. Often with food. We've got a handful of these and hopefully we'll get more but supply may run out.

Akkasu vols 36 & 36 (£12-99 each, Seirin Kogeisha) by various - Here's a niche market. These are in Japanese to save you time. Right, who's left? Akkasu is an alternative comics anthology from Japan that's been going since 1998 and these two volumes have left me wanting more. Volume 36 has a Sof' Boy cover by Archer Prewitt (Acha Puruwitto) and an article about Adrian Tomine (Edorian Tomíne) meeting Yoshihiro Tatsumi. I can't read that bit so I'll skip it. Tomine's 'Dylan & Donovan' story is translated and it's hand lettered! Very important. After that you've got my favourite creator from the two books and I wish I knew their name. If you go to the publishers page, see the little, pointy-headed bloke bouncing around. Well, he's the star of the strip. Imagine Woodring writing a children's story for Gilbert Hernandez (or Ulif K) to draw. Right, who's left now?

Minoru Sugiyama provides the cover, a poster and an insanely detailed 18-page story for volume 37. Imagine Mark Oakley re-drawing Five Star Stories under the tutelage of Miyazaki with a touch of Megan Kelso. There's so much variety in these two books. Lots of scratchy lines, some obsessive-compulsive cross-hatching, a lot of grotesque ugliness. Even though (most of) the art is unmistakably Japanese there's little that looks like 99% of the manga on our shelves today. I've often found reading untranslated manga (or 'reading' untranslated manga) to be an excellent way to see how comics work, how different artists can portray an event, how they frame or crop a scene. To a lesser extent it's like reading comics before you could read. When I was tiny (and stop me if you've heard this one before) I had a Tom & Jerry comic that I loved. I couldn't read at that point but would happily 'read' it and make up what was happening. As I learned to read I'd go back to this one and I'd still see my story laid over what was actually happening in the word balloons. My version of the stories in this book will be forever safe as I'll never get around to learning Japanese.

n e w c o m i c s

Ocean #1 of 6 (£2-20, DC Wildstorm) by Warren Ellis & Chris Sprouse. And talking of decompressed comics (we weren't, but we will be in THE COMICS JOURNAL, below), there's a whole lot of space going on here, both stylistically and in terms of content, for deep under the icy surface of Jupiter's moon Europa, floating in the vast, aquamarine depths of its buried ocean, thousands of strangely shaped, bronzen caskets are discovered. They're coffins. Warren's back where he likes it, 100 years into the future and far from planet earth. The opening double-page spread is particularly impressive, with the three inset panels cleverly placed (try adding a fourth in the bottom left-hand corner and you've lost the scale, move the three panels to the next page and you've lost the claustophobic context from the positioning). The rest so far is scene-setting, space lectures and a failed attempt at assassination; with six issues to move around in I'm confident this will be far more substantial than those last Wildstorm notelets.

Shouldn't You Be Working #2 (£3-99, Fantagraphics) by Johnny Ryan - More doodles done while working at the urologist. 'Little Orphan Asshole', 'Erotic Fart', 'God Giving Eddie Van Halen A Blow Job', 'Ass Hair Month', 'Teenage Murder Lovers', 'Mad Hatter With The Bad Bladder', 'Quaker Knife Fight' and more family favourites. All new, all wrong.

Paper Rodeo (£2 each, Paper Rodeo) by various Fort Thunder types - Not actually for sale yet but I'm working on it. I've got a bunch of these sent to me by Ed Maniac (a possibly pseudonym) and I was hoping to have some to sell. He sent me one of each and I can't bring my self to part with them. Brian Chippendale, who's sending me his PEENUT BUTTER NINJA, has some so I'll get 'em from him. Twenty for pages of mind-melting comics. One or two colours on newsprint, messy as hell, in thrall to Gary Panter, no rules. Who's inside? Few leave their names hanging around but I can see Ben Jones, Matt Brinkman, Brian Chippendale and Ron Regé. ???? latest issue (with Ron Regé cover) in stock now ???? ? oops, gone again ?

Peenut Butter Ninja #4 (£4-99, self published) by Brian Chippendale - And, while we're dealing with the Fort Thunder crowd, here's a delicious slice of personal obsession. He sent me a copy of the first issue just so I could see what it's like. That one was done when he was a kid, sometime from 1982-84 and it seems as if he was into some platform, fighting game with lots of ninjas. The art isn't cleaned up, there are bleed-throughs from either the previous page or from the badly rubber out pencils. Sweet, but almost impenetrable. Tom enjoyed it. The fourth issue, produced over the last year or so, continues the story and has creatures popping in and out of reality, the occasional fight and some of the best backgrounds I've seen in ages, scratchy and obsessive. The cover is silk-screened in seven colours, chalky to the touch. What was going on inside? Well, I'm waiting for the third read-through to find out.

Worn Tuff Elbow #1 (£3-50, Fantagraphics) by Marc Bell - At Bingo-Bango Man's Coffee And Pastry stand, the exceedingly rich Monsieur Moustache spills his beverage and blames in innocent bystander. (It was one of his minions that tripped him up but there you go). As the bystander lies, bleeding, reeling from the beating, Sue The Tooth appears to warn him that there is trouble ahead. Behind Lord Rupert Manor, Carl and Removable Nose wait for Legba to make a pronouncement, possibly to get back at M. Moustache for the trouble he caused. And there's more but, like Peenut Butter Ninja, it can get a little confusing and sometimes you wonder if there's a real story in here at all or if you're just coasting along, looking at the amazing art and being bedazzled by Bell's invention and ability to throw these strange characters onto the page.

This assortment of novelties was produced after SHRIMPY AND PAUL, showing a sharper pen, a more assured hand. The, seemingly unconnected, prologue with a big-footed pedestrian fireman-lifted into a ditch of potatoes while following signs to 'Worn Tuff Elbow' is sharper still. The claustrophobic panels, crammed with details and Elder-like signs have little footnotes, more sweet madness. I can't push this to people who won't like it. You'll either get it or you won't. Bell has created another world with its own rules, a densely cross-hatched landscape with peculiar inhabitants.

Enderstated: Tales Of Horror (50p) by Dylan Edwards. A snappy little mini-comic endorsed both by Donna Barr and Alison Bechedel, beginning with terminally single and hilariously histrionic Allen, who lures friends over to his flat so he can wail about his loveless nightmare ('I want you - all of you! - to admit that this whole 'love' thing is a complete fabrications designed solely for the purpose of tormenting me!'), and continuing on to the horrors of dating and the nightmare of being trapped by a pedant - for which I'm truly sorry, anyone who spends five seconds with me. It's more of a nibble than a meal, but at least it won't ruin your appetite. I wish we had room to stock Dylan's POLITICALLY INQUEERECT, but there's no point because noone'd accept the A4 format which is death to sales here. It's a great satire about a gay couple whose relatives are afraid to let their children visit... in case they're warped by Todd and Archer's right-wing, materialist ways!!! Check out Dylan's website at www.studiondr.com and buy direct.

Elric #1 of 4 (£3-99, DC) by Michael Moorcock & Walt Simonson. Simonson's ideal arena, this, as anyone who revelled in his prehistoric run on THOR will imagine. This is set in Elric's earlier days as a young man learning his craft and trading favours through dream quests.

Catwoman: When In Rome #1 of 6 (£2-60, DC) by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale. 'I hope you speak English, Don Verinni. My Italian starts at 'Armani', and stops at 'Gucci'.' Selina heads out to Italy to meet Don Verinni - the Capo di Capi - following her encounters with The Roman's own mafia family in Gotham (BATMAN: LONG HALLOWEEN, BATMAN: DARK VICTORY). She 'sends' Catwoman ahead for a reconnoitre, only to find her host with a big grin on his face, and Joker's special brand of poison in his system. Immaculate carpets and coving from Sale.

Tomb Of Dracula #1 (£2-25, Marvel) by Robert Rodi after Bruce Jones & Jamie Tolagson. Dracula now looks like Marylyn Manson, of course, but Blade looks like a flabby-jowled piranha and this looks like lasting no more than a handful of issues unless a single original thought can be mustered. Third ESSENTIAL volume also out this month.

Black Widow #1 (£2-25, Marvel) by Richard K. Morgan & Bill Sienkiewicz. How lovely it is to see more Billy The Sink in print. He's on good form, as well. Natasha and friend go on a bit of road trip following an(other) attempt to take a pop at her ex-KGB ass. Not enough here to judge the quality of the plot, but it doesn't quite sound like Natasha. She could be any old lethal assassin. I don't really see her saying 'Yeah'.

Wolverine #20 (£1-70, Marvel) by Mark Millar & John Romita Jr.. Millar promises that his 12-issue run will include all the ideas and gags for Wolverine he's cooked up over the years. So far, so what, I'm afraid, but I think Nick Fury's going to regret taking Wolverine's broken body into that S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier while it heals, because there's a stowaway in Logan's mind. Not exactly ULTIMATES.

Youngblood: Bloodsport #1 (£2-99, Arcade) by Mark Millar & Rob Liefeld. BATTLE ROYALE for Rob Liefeld's cast of gaudy superheroes. Can't be more succinct or accurate than that. Not exactly ULTIMATES, either.

Worldwatch #2 (£2-20 Austen Comics) by Chuck Austen & Tom Derenick. Oh, okay - my mistake. But then this is such a vast improvement on the first issue, I don't quite know which was the fluke. For a start the colouring has softened up the art considerably - almost into Butch Guice territory (sturdy yet rounded - the first issue was black and white). And the gratuitous flesh count has given way to naked-for-a-reason, even if the reason isn't particularly salubrious. I think I know what Chuck's up to now. We've seen superheroes as juvenile pop stars in X-STATIX, but this is superheroes as rock stars, with all the debauchery that goes with it. I'll just throw a couple of this issue's mischievous developments your way. The first is The Intercessor. If a woman in need calls his name in prayer, he will arrive out of nowhere to beat the snot out any miscreant ('The Lord has seen fit to judge him harshly,' was the understated explanation for his overzealous deliverance this time round). Most think it folklore, but as one girl discovers, it actually happens - only there's a price for such succour involving a 'laying on of hands'. The second is Highlord. You know Shazam over at DC? When young Billy Batson says 'Shazam' he turns into their big, butch, no-nonsense Captain Marvel. When Jason says 'Ramrod' he turns into Highlord, who's definitely big, decidedly butch, well-groomed and gay. Thing is, he only stays as Highlord for 72 minutes, and which point he reverts to emphatically straight young Jason. And as Jason puts it, 'I'm so sick of this shit! I want us separated, you understand me? High Lord! I AM NOT WAKING UP NEXT TO NAKED MEN ANYMORE!' Millar and Ellis are may well be kicking themselves that neither of them got there first.

The Drunk #1 (£2-25 Aposable Thumbs) by Erik Ressler. I don't think there'll be a second issue somehow. Early signs of a split personality include inking techniques that aren't so much as a cross between Perez, Wrightson, Starlin, Sim and Hogarth (Burne, not William!) but a combination of their individual tricks, sometimes all on the same page. Starts off as a gothic western, with a demon riding into town on a motorbike: 'The skies cloud his vision, but a drink will open his eyes.' (James O'Barr, anyone?) Then it turns into a sea shanty of sorts ('Women and booze, don't get confused. Pools of fools flock to bar stools.' Okay, you're right, it was probably written on the back of a beer mat), with the action moving to a pirate vessel, and thence to the bottom of the ocean. By this point it's one unholy and unreadable shambles, but I'll bet several of his mates have examples of the man's artwork tattooed across their shoulders.

Metal Gear Solid #1 (£2-99, IDW) by Kris Oprisko & Ashley Wood. A play-through of the game before last, disguised as a comic. A very beautiful disguise, to be sure, being painted by Williams/Muth-meister Ashley Wood, who perfectly captures the arctic conditions you encounter at the top of the first lift; but how bitterly disappointed will everyone be who picks up this comic to discover they've played all this before! I was disappointed and my expectations were zero. I'm outraged on your behalf, whoever you are. Also, big mistake to break the atmosphere of solitary struggle and show the Colonel and Mai Ling on the other end of the Snake's Codec communication device. Still, at least we know what Ashley was up to that month...

Lore #4 (£3-99, IDW) by TP Louise & Ashley Wood. ...because he only turns up for duty here on eight out of forty-six interior pages and the cover. The other thirty-eight consist of typed prose on 'coolly' distressed cream paper. I can't really criticise since I thought so highly of CEREBUS: READS (began with just two pages of sequential art followed by illustrated prose, then Sim increased the comics-count by two pages each issue until the middle section was pure comics, then concertinaed out again in a symmetrical fashion). I know, however, that 99% of the pulling power in this title lies Wood's art, and I'd just like to say 'sorry' on behalf of the creators if you do feel defrauded, and on behalf of any comic shop that deliberately sold you this bagged, without a sample copy to look through first. I'm also sorry to be so cranky today, but Tom's just given me his cold and I can't swallow pills, so my mouth is full of crushed, chalky bleah. I'm such a baby when I'm ill. 'You're such a baby when you're well!'

I beg y-- ah, it's a fair cop.

The Comics Journal #263 (£6-50, Fantagraphics), featuring Eddie Campbell, Ed Brubaker, CEREBUS and more. I've been reading one hell of a lot of comics journalism over the last month or so (PRISM, FOLLOWING CEREBUS, WRITERS ON COMICS SCRIPTWRITING vol 2), and although it patently hasn't improved my own, the overlapping subjects and content have built up an interesting picture: a lot of comics' writers started as writer/artists, but being an artist was the goal (and dropping that aspiration, and all the hard toil it involved, was the biggest relief in their careers); the best of those writing for corporations see combining this with their own properties as vital not just for financial reasons, but for their own energy replenishment; the strategy is to get noticed by the corporations through producing early work outside of the superhero genre, then build up a name in superheroes before using that credit to carry readers back to their own, creator-owned works - which may or may not involve superheroes, but probably wouldn't find themselves on the shelves of the majority of retailers who still, after all this time, refuse to carry more than the top-selling 25 monthly titles on their shelves - and finally, CEREBUS the work is difficult to separate from Dave Sim the polemicist. None of this is new, not even the awareness amongst said writers that retailers' lack of vision represents the currently insurmountable obstacle to regenerating the comics industry in the US and UK. But it's amazing how it's all fitting together right now (Brubaker refers to CEREBUS throughout the interview here, CEREBUS is the main title under consideration in this issue, and Dave Sim, improbably enough, appears as one of the featured creators in WRITERS ON COMICS SCRIPTWRITING vol 2 - see Book Section, above -alongside Brubaker, Bendis, and Millar). And it's a strange coincidence that Dave Sim was the first creator to voice such observations on the industry and campaign for change, not unsuccessfully, one insignificant-in-the-overall-scheme-of-things example being that Dave Sim provoked Page 45 into existence, and here we are ten years on with the Top 25 comics representing less than 97% of our revenue. It is all a coincidence, but I've enjoyed it, and I enjoyed this issue of COMICS JOURNAL.

The Brubaker interview will prove enlightening to those following his quality superhero-as-crime output (SLEEPER, GOTHAM CENTRAL, CATWOMAN etc.), if they've yet to pick up the early autobiographical work A COMPLETE LOWLIFE (and you can, it's been in stock for our entire stretch so far), in which he recounts his early drug use and ever so slightly criminal activities, like holding up a store... He also provides an intelligent answer to my disappointment that GOTHAM CENTRAL isn't straight, procedural police fiction, in that without the (minimal) presence of Batman et al, DC probably wouldn't have published it, because no one outside of Page 45, Isotope, Comix Experience etc. would have bought it, so no customers would have had access to it. And Brubaker's absolutely right: for years now the publishers haven't been selling their comics to readers, they've been selling them to retailers. See above, for the problems that causes. As for the problems the name 'graphic novel' causes, Eddie Campbell elsewhere provides 'A Graphic Novelist's Manifesto', full of sharp reasoning and the recommendation that 'the term graphic novel shall not be taken to indicate a trade format (such as 'trade paperback' or 'hardcover' or 'prestige' format). It can be in unpublished manuscript form, in monthly parts or other serialisation. The important thing is the intent, even if the intent arrives after the original publication.' Makes sense to me: even Sim didn't know when he started that he'd be producing more than a few issues, let alone that they would survive in any trade format other than individual pamphlets, nor Eddie when he was writing the Alec stories now under the title of THE KING CANUTE CROWD. Plus there's more discussion on superhero trends, particularly pertaining to the 'decompressed' storytelling used most famously in THE AUTHORITY by Warren Ellis and Bryan Hitch (but by so many before them, all over the place in Japan, and of course by (everything comes back to) Dave Sim as early as the grand finale to CHURCH & STATE II if not before. And... the essays on CEREBUS. Now, I've only read the first two so far by Rich Kreiner and R. Fiore, but they've both had plenty of interest and intelligence to say. The former makes the same point I did on the release of FORM & VOID, that, critically, Sim makes it almost impossible to separate the narrative from its creator by almost inextricably intertwining the work itself with the notes ( for example, you won't understand a word of the dialogue in mock-Swahili unless you access the notes), and those notes are boorishly full of unprovoked and unrestrained side-rants unworthy of such a deep thinker. The second writer also mirrors one of my earlier observations (which suggests the opposite, that here you can separate the work from the artist) that reading the notes in a later section on the Hemingways may lead to a surprise in that Sim is obviously attempting to portray Mary in a light entirely at odds with my own and Fiore's perceptions of her when reading the work itself. And although I am at odds with both critics in my aesthetic judgements on the work in places (I thought READS worked very well, myself, and THE LAST DAY), I have to concede agreement in others (LATTER DAYS). I couldn't believe that Fiore repeated the JOURNAL's previous, disgusting and frankly puerile comparison between Sim and Hitler (a heinous insult to all victims of Hitler, let alone a gross slander and misrepresentation of Dave), but I was pleasantly surprised that a critic so entrenched at THE JOURNAL agreed that 'the calculated snub during that '100 Greatest Comics' stunt did more to discredit The Comics Journal than Sim'. They're both worth CEREBUS scholars' attention, certainly. I'd better not mention the opening character assassination of COMICS INTERNATIONAL editor Dez Skinn if I want to get paid next month, but it does offer a different assessment to my own review of COMIX THE UNDERGROUND REVOLUTION from REBEL VISIONS: THE UNDERGROUND COMIX REVOLUTION 1963-1974 author, Patrick Rosenkranz. If I did, I'd probably have to make up for it by mentioning the Comic Expo event at The Ramada Plaza Hotel in Bristol on 6th & 7th November at which guests include Simon Bisley and about which you can learn more at http://comicexpo.mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk

b a c k i n s t o c k

Schizo #3 (£3-50, Fantagraphics) by Ivan Brunetti - Haven't seen this one in a couple of years. Warts and all or just warts? Self-loathing mixed with misanthropy, shocking and hilarious at the same time. Possibly more shocking than hilarious. The fourth issue may turn up at some time. Eightball #23 (£4-50, Fantagraphics) by Daniel Clowes - Could be my comic of the year if I wasn't such a damn obscurist. Ulysees (£1, Minit Classics) by David Lasky - 'Please note - That in order to adapt James Joyce's novel 'Ulysses' for the mini-comics format, a few details had to be excluded. This comic is by no means a substitute for the original work.' Nine pages of comics, boys & girls.

m e r c h a n d i s e

I Felt Nothing At All (£8-99, Bearos) by Souvaris - Yes, it's a cd. The reason we're stocking it is the cover, booklet and six page strip drawn by John Porcellino. Four long instrumental tracks, seventy six minutes. Starting very quiet, building up to everyone playing very loudly. With feedback. All three of us like it, which is something of a first. Mp3s available on their site. The comic is just John Porcellino being John Porcellino which is more than I would ask of anyone else.

Clover & Blade Of The Immortal prints (£14-99 each).

30 Days Of Night Calendar 2004 (£11-99) by Ben Templesmith.

Olivia Calendar 2004 (£10-99). 100% Bettie Page.

Not-available-from-us-department presents:

'Parts with Appeal' - a tantalizing new print set by Coop.

We've fired up the presses again to produce our latest edition of six supercharged prints from new original Coop drawings. Each signed and numbered set of prints is housed in a super custom portfolio that features additional Coop artwork, a signed colophon, and certificate of authenticity.

The prints are 8' x 8' and produced in silver on black paper. The edition is limited to 500 sets and will be finished by October 1st. Pre-orders are being taken now for first deliveries and lowest numbers. Find out more about this set on Pressure Printing's web site.

Please go to our web site to see photos and all the details about this beautiful new set of prints!

You may purchase the portfolios using credit cards and PayPal through the web site. You can also purchase them with money orders, cashier's checks, and personal checks. Please make checks payable to Pressure Printing and mail to the address below. Personal checks must clear before the portfolios are sent. Each set from the full edition of 500 is $200.00 plus shipping.

Thank you!

Brad Keech

Pressure Printing

303-893-6652

brad@pressureprinting.com www.pressureprinting.com

The prints and the packaging are absolutely top-quality. I bought Mark the Jim Woodring set for Page 45's 10th Anniversary, and hugely regret not asking for my own set. Brad is a gentleman through and through, you can trust him with your card, and trust him to deliver.

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', 'The Complete Frank', 'Locas', 'Your Favourite Dr. Seuss,' 'The DC Comics Encyclopedia' '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

Tom Rosin

Page 45

9 Market Street

Nottingham

NG1 6HY

Tel: (0115) 9508045

Monday to Saturday 9am to 6pm.

Page 45 mailshots mangled by Stephen and Mark, then edited by a myopic manatee on malmsey. OTHELLO, THE ONE I LOVE and LEGAL DRUG all. Written. By. Tom. Guest reviews this month come courtesy of Alex 'Smoking Jacket' Sarll (MY FAITH IN FRANKIE), then Gus and Ryz (SUPERMAN: TRUE BRIT). Last weekend Ryz, Gus and I attended (our mates) Paul's & Paul's strictly secular Blessing of Vows, and although I have no idea how I got home, Ryz trumped me by a) taking their present home with her b) leaving without her husband and c) falling flat on her face on the way to the taxi. Oh, and she left the huge bouquet of flowers she was given for making a speech. Par for the course, actually.

l e t t e r s Aww, aren't you lot the best?

To Stephen + Mark Many Congratulations on your 10th Anniversary. Here's to the next 10 years. Love, Pat xxx P.S. Enclose £ for a Bottle of Champagne.

Actually, that's my step-mother.

Mark, Stephen, Tom + Dominique, 'Happy 10th Birthday' (congratulations! I'm hoping the party looks like this!) Chris Hobbs.

The card cover's a photograph entitled 'Les Dames', a slightly daring 1920s Halloween ensemble of Parisian belles, proudly modelling ornate lingerie. We'll see what we can do for you, Chris. Is your wife coming?

To Stephen, Mark, Tom + Dominique After 10 years, shouldn't you be relaunching yourselves from issue 1 with a series of variant covers? Happy Birthday Best wishes and see you soon Rick & Linda

Do you think that's what Another World did? Relaunch themselves as Forbidden Planet? ;) I've constantly made myself available in several variants: cheeky smart-arse, pedantic smart-arse, over-precipitous smart-arse, and utter buffoon. Funny you should mention the variant covers... You'll see what I mean shortly, courtesy of Mark. A big, big thumbs up to Chris Craven for including us in the Personal Ad he took out in the back of POWERS #5. Yeah, Bendis is running a dating agency there! Blatantly, mentioning our name is going to increase his chances of getting laid (it's a voodoo thing), but it's the first time we've had the (dubious) pleasure of appearing in a Marvel Comic, and I don't think we'd have got there in any other fashion; so nice one, Chris, and cheers to Brian Michael B.. I'm not going to give out Chris' email here, but it's in the ad, and any single female fan who doesn't respond for fear of landing themselves with an unknown geek is missing out on the opportunity of meeting a genuine, warm-hearted and cute 20-year-old with fine taste in comics and, remember, the courage to appear in a Personal Ad. Any single young ladies on this list, go grab yourself a copy of POWERS. Right now. Who'll be first to get us mentioned by DC? There's a gift voucher in it for you! Ossian Hawkes brings you news and a link:

Kochalka, Dorkin, Mahfood and more...

... are doing comic strips for the 'street' Sims spin-off Urbz.

If you haven't already click here for Kochalka's with a new one posted every week.

Enjoy in a 'better than The Matrix web-comics' way.

Toodles

o.

Okay, unless I remember to ask Mark to do something to that 'here', it's not going to work. Try http://urbzsims.ea.com/comix/foundry1.php - is that any better? And this from local legend Leon Sadler, is almost a press release:

hello.

good news is, the website is better now!

bad news is, is its not really got that much on it.

its all redesigned but nothing special really. i guess its just a bit more up to date. go and have a look around anyway though

leave some feedback.....?

http://lostforest.cjb.net

or if that doesn't work...

http://geocities.com/soft_forest

(to get rid of the adverts, click the little cross in the corner of their boxes)

more news is....

is that this post-it note book is very nearly there. it'll probably be a couple of weeks until its all ready for sale, but now the content is all finished. just need to sort out covers for them, printing and binding them all together. the format will be new and exciting for this modern age.

there's gonna be over 200 pages of work too.

what else....?

im making the pilgrims cheaper because they were over-priced,

and i want to make quite a few more books before the end of the year.

Birdes is done now, no more copies can be made unless i can find more materials for the covers, so if you still want one, send an email to leon@famicon.net

i have a few left.

i am now selling books in magma books in london (covent garden & clerkenwell) and manchester.

i have moved to leeds now, so the postal address is now...

[Not sure Leon wants stalkers - ed.]

and thats that really.

'enjoy the internet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

Leon

Okay, so more venues for you creative dudes to sell your wares in. Can I be more than usually self-indulgent now, and just say a few brief words about Page 45 on its tenth anniversary? I got lucky. Roughly thirteen years ago I was working in a pub under terrible conditions, and on my half-hour break I came into Fantastic Store, nestled under Virgin, for my Saturday fix of superheroes. That's all I read in those days, other than the brief excursion into MOONSHADOW and BLOOD (to be reprinted in December). Mark was the manager there, and had shoved a sign up which said something like 'Assistant Needed'. 'Gi's a job!' I said. 'Why should I?' (Actually, I don't think he was that brusque, but he had a point.) 'Umm, I have an encyclopaedic knowledge of Marvel superheroes.' Apparently I got the job purely because I could muster an answer other than I wanted cheap comics. Thirteen years on, and Mark is possibly the only reason I discovered CEREBUS and, by association, the majesty of PERSEPOLIS, the wonder of all things Nabiel Kanan, even the naughtiness of PREACHER. He's the only reason I'm here at all, give or take a Dave Sim and Gerhard. So that's who you should blame. Bloody Mark. A campaign of hate mail is almost certainly justified, but I'm afraid you probably won't get rid of me, because Mark has a single, fatal character flaw: loyalty. Loyalty, trust and an absolutely unparalleled intuition for the merits of any given comicbook experiment. It's all very well for me to blather on about THE ULTIMATES etc., but that would probably sell itself. Mark is the absolute heart of Page 45, and for all my self-absorbed, rampant self-publicity (which I euphemistically describe as 'company recognition'), Mark is the man ultimately responsible for our very existence, the predominant feel of the place, as well as all those extraordinary window displays. I swear the man could make a nuclear reactor out of cardboard - though I probably wouldn't want to live anywhere near it. I'm not selling myself short here: I'm a damned good salesman whom insurers would be lucky to have, and an ok accountant. But I don't believe in insurance and I don't enjoy accounts. I believe, passionately, in comics, and I enjoy nothing more - absolutely nothing more, including Grand Theft Auto! - than being on the shop floor with every single potential customer. And without Mark, I'd both be somewhere else, and lost. I'd like to thank you all for my happiness. Mark got me here, you all make me feel that what we're doing is worthwhile, and I take that home with me every evening. Seriously: thank you. Last word, as is right, should go to Mark. Mark...? Somehow ten years has gone by since we opened the shop. Ten years. Feels like five. Quite a few people told us that we were doing it all wrong and they were right. We did do it all wrong but it was the right way to do it for us. I forget how wrong we're still doing it until I see how the others do it right. Best things about having Page 45 (in no particular order) - ? No boss. Wahey! ? Nice people. We've got a lot of really nice customers. Some have been around for the whole ten years. ? Comics. Big trucks come to the shop and deliver all these cool things. ? Having a book I like take off and seeing other folks enjoy something that I do. ? Going out of our way to find something new, something that few people stock and have it sell well. ? Colleagues you can rely on. And get on with. ? Still being here ten years later. mx Tenth Anniversary Random Statistics:

Number of times Stephen has made a point in the mailshots of how hard-working he is: 43

Number of times during the last ten years Stephen that has turned up for work over half an hour late: 84.

Number of times Mark has been over half an hour late: 1

Number of times Tom has been over half an hour late: 0.

Number of times Dominique has been over half an hour late: 0

Number of times any three of those has made a point of how hard-working they are: 0

First person to sign with Page 45: Roberta Gregory, before we even had a shop - had to do it at The Old Angel pub in Hockley, Nottingham. Yo, Roberta!

Number of times we've been called 'famous' by comicbook professionals: 12

Number of times we've been on tv: 0

Number of times we've been in the national press: 0

First person to hassle us when we blatantly have better things to do than listen to a genius: Scott McCloud, who actually asked us out of a meeting just before our declaration of intent in order to speak to us. His advice? 'Don't ever become a chain.'

Best advice offered to us by a comicbook professional: 'Don't ever become a chain.' - Dave Sim.

Most asked question: 'When are you going to open a branch in [insert location]?' Which is nice.

Most tireless campaigners on our behalf: Dave Sim/Bryan Talbot/Donna Barr/Rich Johnston/Craig Johnson. Difficult to judge, really, our gratitude overfloweth.

Most money spent by a single (non-library) customer in one afternoon: £680-00. He'd come all the way from Finland. And then couldn't afford the flight back.

Number of times Mark has turned off Nick Cave the second Stephen has left the shop floor: 1,273

Number of times Stephen has not only ejected but hidden the bloody Melvins as soon as Mark can't see what he's doing: 52

Number of chocolate items consumed by wafer-thin Tom whilst working for Page 45: 3 x each day he's worked with us.

Number of words used by Dominique per day on the shop floor or the office: you don't have room for this figure.

Bottles of wine consumed by Stephen since Page 45 opened: 10,000 (yup, no joke there, so send your CV to Page 45...)

Beard growth by Mark: 6 feet

Retail value of comics we had tied up in customer orders (reservations) at the end of 2003: £8,695.

Number of instances Dominique has left Page 45: 3

Number of instances Dominique has come crawling back: 2, pending 3

Number of instances Mark has regretted opening Page 45: 0

Number of instances Stephen has regretted opening Page 45: 0

Thanks, folks.

It's not as if we could do anything else!