My Life is a Comic- Part Deux

Well, you probably haven’t read my earlier post - My life is a Comic - pt 1. Go check it out, as this is the long delayed continuation.

 

Having seen The Dark Knight (twice!) in the theatres, I have to say, the movie is great and all, but how will people who don't know about Batman; who don't appreciate the subtle play between the Batman and Joker and Gordon and Dent really *get* it? To be quite honest, a lot of the people around me wouldn't know their Poison Ivy from Harley Quinn. In fact, I've oft heard the opinion, from some of my sadder friends, that reading comics is for kids. The people are invariable those who only read books like 'Who Moved My Cheese', and get to hear of stuff like Sin City or Hellboy when a movie is made of it. Quick Tip- If you’re reading self help books, you’re doing it wrong.

When I was in the sixth grade I moved to a new school, St Pauls in Kota, Rajasthan. I stayed there till seventh, before moving to a new school. St Pauls was, in many ways, one of my worst schools. I never performed really badly, but I was a lackadaisical student; daydreaming in a class which seemed, to me at least, to be full of the most detestable collection of little sneaks that I'd ever seen. I can still remember those little rotters - 'Sir! Viren's sleeping in class!' or "Ma'am, Viren's trying to look down your blouse again!". I hope they burn in hell! The teacher's too were quite god-awful, except for our maths teacher who taught us geometry by taking us out to the school field and making us measure and calculate the volume, diameter and radii of various objects like tree trunks, car tyres and so on. And of course, Miss Sehgal, who taught us physics, and on whom I had an aching crush. Of course, by the time I started paying attention in class, answering questions, and finally catching her attention, it was time to move on to a new place and a new school.

So, not surprisingly, surrounded by people whom I would rather not associate with, I became a bit of a loner. Instead of spending my lunch breaks scuffling in the dirt with the rest of the plebes, I used to retire with my tiffin to the library. And what a library it was. To me it was a regular treasure trove of books and comics which I used to devour with lunch. It was here I encountered many a hitherto unknown comic, such as Strawberry Shortcake(okay, okay! I enjoyed it at the time). Try as I might, I cannot remember the names of the other comics I read, but I do recall some were mighty weird. And cool! Okay, having typed that I decided to google around, and found two more comics I loved at the time. The first was Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham. Heh, No it’s totally not a joke.

 

 

 

And then there was Planet Terry, this supercool scifi comic. I totally need to search these out!

 

This library was where I discovered Edgar Rice Burroughs, and spent many a lunch deep in the jungles of Africa. The librarian was a nice man, and quite handy with arts and crafts. I was especially inspired by his money plant holder made out of a bulb, and resolved to make one for my mum on her birthday. I was quite pleased with the result, but my mother not so much when she discovered I had broken about thirty-six working bulbs before I found one that was suitable.

Moving on, Nainital was when I grew interested in comic strips. I collected the daily Garfield and Hagar from the paper. I continued with my Archies, and the occasional superhero comics. Batman was always my favourite, but Superman and the JLA would do in a pinch.

Coimbatore was where I found a reasonably steady source of comics in the form of a modestly small but well stocked (and probably illegal) lending library called Choose and Read. I managed to get hold of the Batman Knightfall and Knightquest series; however the issues I got were later on in the series after Bane had broken Batman's back. I was quite shocked by all the changes; Batman retired.. Robin murdered.. Batgirl shot and paralysed! And the redesign of the Bat’s costume (see left)! In fact all the DC comics I picked up we strangely confused. Superman was killed, Lex Luthor was batting for the good side now and Batman had a son with Talia Al Ghul? A lot (but not all) of this confusion was due to stories set in alternate earths. and then DC had this major reboot with a series called Crisis on Multiple Earths, which I have not understood till now.

Marvel was a bit better with Spiderman as entertaining as ever, but more and more I began eschewing the fantastic four and Captain America for new comics abut these gang of mutants known as the Xmen. The XMen were a great hit and thousands of mutants (or metahumans as DC called them) started popping up all over comics. They’ve become a bit overused now, and it seems that Marvel’s writer just invent characters on whim. How about Maggot, Jazz or Zeitgeist? And often, I feel Marvel introduced female characters just coz they wanted to see how skimpy a outfit they could fit their heroines into before their comics started getting shrink wrapped and placed in the ‘adult’ shelves. Take a look at this, if you don’t believe me.

Like a review by R. Fiore goes -

Being physically invulnerable and endowed with gnarly powers, their clothing need have no practical value aside from the practice of exhibitionism.  They are attired in one of three ways:  Scantily clad, partially nude, and almost completely nude.  If they were going to church, they would wear tight trousers and leather jackets.  The simpleminded viewer might conclude they are dressing simply to please men.  This would be wrong-headed.  Their dedication to self-exposure is as pure, selfless and inner-directed as the vocation of the most devout monk.

Okay, so I totally get where they are coming from. That’s why I put all those pics above. Hey, I DO want more people in here!

 

Anyways, next time anyone asks you Marvel or DC, you know the right answer. It’s DC all the way baby.

Okay, so this post has stretched a bit longer than expected. I will be back with more…

Depression Dog’s V Day

Well, I was trolling 4chan and here are some depression dog jpegs just for you sad lonely people on V Day. Enjoy and relate.

 

   

            

Men are from Mars... Women are from Crazy.

My life is a Comic - pt 1

When I was really young, I remember reading a lot of Archies. The were more accessible than superhero comics and much more entertaining than the Chacha Chaudharys and suchlike. On occasion, as I would be zipping through a double digest, my dad would take it and start reading aloud. 'Oh Veronica, you look lovely. SMOOCH! SMOOCH!'. My dad would quite enjoy himself, and exert himself to the maximum to get the full range of sound effects involved whenever Archie went near some girl. He would then look at me in mock surprise and say - This comic is FULL of kissing. Is that why you like it?, and grin.    

 

Blushing furiously, I would snatch the offending digest out of his hand and tell him that I was just reading it for Jughead (the inveterate girl hater). And it was true because I was at the age when the opposite sex was the enemy, and all contact was to be avoided. Even though I was strangely attracted, externally I presented a strong front, exhorting my friends to resist their lubricious feminine wiles. Of course, with age comes wisdom, and I soon realised that I was no match for them. But that's another story...

I still read Archies, but only when I go home and can get them from the library. They're light enough that I can eat, surf the net, watch TV and read them at the same time. Of course, there were a few superhero comics available then, with Phantom, Tarzan, Mandrake and Flash Gordon leading the front. Many were the happy hours I spent pretending to study, with a Flash comic hidden in my Social Studies textbook. Unfortunately though, I tended to get lost in that world of fantasy, at which point soft 'PEW PEW PEW' sounds would emanate from my throat, as I battled the hordes of Ming the Merciless. At this point my mom would storm in, confiscate my comic and leave me with  sore ear, which, let me tell you, was worse than any torture Ming could inflict.        

 

 Another comic, or should I say graphic novel, that I was very fond of was the Asterisk and Obelisk series. Goscinny and Uderzo crafted masterpiece after masterpiece with their wry french humour and witty stereotypes. I could read their comics time and time again and still do. Of course Uderzo continued the series after Goscinny died, with mixed success.

And of course, in the same format was Herge's Tintin with it's high adventure and the comedic timing of Haddock and Thomson and Thompson. To be precise. These can often have me laughing out loud, which is my criteria for a good book.       

Over the years, I've encountered many different comics, and being in a place where easy access to good comics was never easy, the ones I have run across are a motley and varied selection. Ranging from the indigenous Tinkle to Bone and The Blue Devil and Swamp Thing, all comics were grist to my mill.

The earliest comics I remember were the Walt Disney ones starring Mickey, Donald, The Beagle Boys and so on. Most of them involved Hewie, Dewie and Louie thwarting some inventive plan of the Beagle Boys to get their hands on Scrooge McDuck's cash.

In Delhi in the fourth grade He-Man mini booklets were the latest craze. They used to come in plastic pouches, four to the sheet, and I collected them avidly. It was an expression of my interest in science fiction and fantasy, and besides, Teela and The Sorceress  interested me strangely. 

  

 To be continued....

The Gate

I know; my blog posts have become few and far between. Instead of the words and ideas flowing out smoothly, like slick jellied eels, they emerge grudgingly reluctant onto the espace like an alligator from its mud pit. And from those rotten analogies, you know it must be true.

The reason for this is a pervasive ennui which seems to envelop me and everything I do nowadays. The only thing which I do nowdays is read tech blogs and salivate at the new and shiny bits of metal and plastic that they so love to talk about. Gizmodo is my favourite right now, with Crave, Engadget and Slashdot following close behind. I occasionally tune into Scott Adam's blog, though his output is nowhere as good as before. And when I want to get in touch with my feminine side I head on over to Dooce.

Not that I need to get further in touch with my feminine size. I'm just one Avril Lavigne song away from putting on a dress. Coloured pink. Okay, so I apologise; apparently girls don't just like pink. They like red and white stripes/prints too. Which is not the same as pink. Definitely. Not.

Ever since I've returned to India, I've been doing my very best to visit as many pubs/lounges as possible, and get as comprehensively drunk in them as possible. And no, I will absolutely not let the shame of ordering strawberry daquiris while the girls with me down whiskeys with soda and then adjust their crotch and spit stop me.

Hey, I did tell you about my feminine side, didn't I? According to these girls (they pretend to be my friends), I give off this gay vibe, which is why they take me with them to restaurants and force me to ask the maître d' for a table. Apparently they are quick to comply either from desire or terror.

This weekend involved a drunken semi orgy at home with triple distilled vodka, white rum and Drambuie and Burnout matches on the PS2. We were supposed to catch a play at the Indian Habitat Centre on Sunday evening, but on arriving there learnt that it was sold out. Apparently more people were interested in imbibing culture than we thought. So after hanging around and ineffectually trying to bribe the guards into letting us in, we decided to make our way to Khan Market for dinner.

After strolling around a bit, we decided to have dinner at Big Chillz, which, as usual, made us wait for a half hour for a table, while we stood outside the window and pulled hungry orphan faces. I have to say, patience and girls go together just like apples and Godzilla. First, Miz Kuruvilla accosted the maître d' for letting this couple get in ahead of us. The waited replied politely, 'We would seat you first, Madam, we really would, but we would lose our jobs. The couple we just seated were the owners.'


Big Chillz is a pretty good restaurant serving continental and Italian, but what you should really go there for are the delicious and indulgent desserts with mud pies and cheesecakes crowding the menu.


This time however, we decided to go to India Gate for ice cream. Quite surprisingly, there was a huge crowd at India gate. People were lounging on the grass with picnic baskets and vendors weaved their way through the crowd selling everything from bhel-puri to bubble guns. It sorta reminded me of another famous place - people on the lawns before the Eiffel Tower. Such different places, yet so similar.


The girls of course wanted a bubble gun and a fluorescent helicopter, which miz Dutt promptly proceeded to launch in a wild and erratic manner, causing everyone to take seven steps away for safety.


Of course, the battery of my D60 chose that very moment to quit on me so you'll have to be satisfies with (inferior?) shots from Shazzer's D40.

[Update - I've managed to get just two photos outta Shazzer. Rest will follow shortly]