Signed some copies of Bringing in the Creeps and Behind the Shadows at Snug Books in B-more this morning. Get your signed books by supporting a popping local bookshop. 4717 Harford Road, Suite 1C, Baltimore, MD 21214. Thanks, Team Snug, for being a terrific ally.
With the Alien: Earth prequel miniseries underway (dialed up on my viewing queue for tomorrow), here’s a musical reminder where the franchise started, on the spools of Jerry Goldsmith’s otherworldly opening to the 1979 original, Alien.
I was age nine when Alien came out, no hope of getting to see it as a rated R flick. Sure, they sold Alien trading cards at our local 7-11 and I bought a handful of packs to satiate my curiosity about the horror-sci-fi classic. There was that impossibly huge 18-inch Xenomorph action figure in our local Mammoth Mart that I never could save my allowance up to get, since it flew off the shelves in the same week of its release. I was later handed the same toy, sans the creature’s back tubing, in my 20s, and it was still a joy to have.
Suffice it to say, once I got to see Alien then Aliens and so forth, it became one of my favorite franchises ever. Landing a copy of Goldsmith’s iconic score became a treasure in my late forties, and I’m still immersed and enthralled by the entire soundtrack. There was a reason Goldsmith was entrusted with Alien, coming right off the heels of his heroic score for Star Trek: The Motion Picture. In space, they might not be able to hear you scream, but there’s plenty other clang and clatter in the furthest reaches of Andromeda.
I had the chance to enjoy some meditation before the waves and I have two takeaways: One, waves come in varying shapes, curls and strength. Many look the same and it’s easy to take that for granted, but really, no single wave is the exact same as another. So too should we avoid generalizing as people.
Second, the ocean is unpredictable and has the propensity to shift directions with pushes and pulls. While swimming with the kid, the undertow was in direct conflict with the inflow. We found ourselves constantly pushing back to our target zone against rough currents nudging us astray. So it goes with the majesty of the ocean and it serves as parable to life. We can think we have all the sights lined up fluidly, but life and waves are subject to change and we must stand ready to react to those changes at will.
Getting reacquainted with some old friends once lost. Michael Jan Friedman’s run on DC’s Star Trek: The Next Generation ongoing original content comic series.
Fun story I have been retelling the past month or so. In the early 1990s, I worked in comics retail at Alternate Worlds in Cockeysville, MD. My first day on the job, they sent me directly to the Star Trek Shore Leave convention in 1992 in its original location in nearby Hunt Valley. I loved the original series as a kid, had toys, posters, went to all the films. But I was way out of my league helping man a table in the dealer room with Next Gen running hot and back to yeoman status for the deep minutiae from the original series that sets apart the devout from the posers. I got eaten alive that night not knowing what the customers were after and a complaint was issued about this by one of the conventioneers who wanted the then-coveted “Mirror Mirror” pin, which was in a box beneath the table, but I had no clue what I was looking for.
I was sent back to the store to finish my shift but in the process of leaving, I ran into DeForrest Kelley zipping to the elevators. He gave me a kind, toothy smile and a wave to acknowledge me when I called out to him. Simply rad.
I made it my business from that night on to get educated on everything Trek to avoid having such an embarrassment occur again. I was a comic book expert, which got me the job, but AW considered themselves a boutique shop with a fierce Trek following. I recorded the first three seasons of Next Gen on VCR through syndication, then kept on with the show, then Deep Space Nine and Voyager. I ravenously devoured Trek as I did comic books. Vonda McIntyre and Michael Jan’s Star Trek novels advanced my education, but MJF’s Next Gen comics put me on par all the way and I soon became a guy the Trekkers could b.s. with in the store and depend on.
I had the entire run of Michael Jan’s Next Gen run, which, like my old baseball, got sold off when times were desperate. The early 90s of comics was inventive in some ways with Vertigo and the rise of the indie publishers. A train wreck more often than not with the Big Two. STNG was almost always quality in Michael Jan’s hands. Happy to have some of these back in an ongoing rebuild of my Star Trek comics section. Gotta love that Predator 2 insert ad from Issue 14.
Morning affirmation. I am worthy. I possess a skill set always in a state of refinement. I am blessed with ideas and passion. I hunger to reach my goals with a deeper yearning than the average. I have a wife, family and friends interested in seeing me succeed. I thank you, amongst the divine, for your protection, guidance, wisdom and inspiration. Drawing a Queen of Wands, Queen of Swords and Ten of Cups in a draw three Tarot is complete reassurance as I strive to master myself and my craft. So mote it be.
Yeah, I own it, watched it seven times so far. After what I went through to get a Region A Blu Ray, you bet I did. You can also bet my tickets for the 4K theatrical reissue of Shin Godzilla on August 14th are secured. I’m just built that way.
I’ve been champing at the bit to dive into this grab from Shore Leave since last Philcon where I moderated a panel on DC Comics movies and television shows and had Keith DeCandido and a stellar panel rockstar the whole thing. Easiest panel ever with that professional firepower.
At the panel, I’d spotted Keith’s copy of The Man Who Laughs, released by Crazy 8 Press, which not only houses some of the finest writers on the scene, but a Justice League of comic book writers and journalists. They flood this fantastic book with essays dissecting more than celebrating decades of the Clown Prince of Crime. The de facto supervillain most people peel from their mouths when asked for their favorite. Joker is certainly up there for me, though I am just as quick to answer The Scorpion from Spiderman, at least the bronze to early modern age era.
This book presents point and counterpoint for the definitive Joker in comics, films and cartoons (for me, Starlin writing, Ledger, Hamill and Romero), debates of sexuality and a historical overview of the Madman of Mirth’s exploits.
Also contributing to this crime clown’s compendium are legends such as Michael Jan Friedman, Aaron Rosenberg, Steve Englehart, Jo Duffy, Robert Greenberger, Rich Handley, Glenn Hauman, Bob Rozakis and many others. Keith’s essay on the Joaquin Phoenix Joker and connecting it to the Bernhard Goetz subway shootings in 1984 was my big “A-ha!” takeaway, considering I dwell on the fact it hiked from Taxi Driver. Jo Duffy positing the character has lost his fun and funny factor is spot-on. I am already chuckling at Zach Galifianaks’ outrageous “human farts” quote from the hysterical Lego Batman Movie in support of her point.
I am a comic book lifer and wannabe script writer whose love of Batman began with Super Friends and reruns of the Batman ’66 show, which I pulled out my ultimate Blu Ray box for a few dips into some BIFFS! POWS! and ZOWIES! Cesar Romero, man, ’nuff said.
Banging work here, Crazy 8 crew. Thank you, Keith, for hightailing to the dealer room to snag my copy during the Meet the Pros sesh.