Okay, this is my first completely unrelated post as I don't feel like blogging about Stuck Rubber Baby or the mini-comics.So I will speak briefly about some of my favorite music, video game and anime music. Yes, I know I am a nerd but not much of the popular stuff around nowadays appeals to me. In fact, I think it's all quite shitty--mass marketed and processed in a box to the lowest common denominator. Pop nowadays is shallow and superficial, lip-synced to by any pretty slut. Hip-hop and R&B is just repetitively annoying, with meaningless obscenity thrown in and degrading videos of more sluts. Thus I have resorted to video game and anime music.
Anyways, here's an example of a very talented pianist playing a song from Bleach. I haven't seen Bleach, though it's supposed to be one of the most popular anime, but I plan on it. I mainly put this up because I want to learn this song one day--it's rather uplifting and fast-paced. My favorite music incorporates piano or is all piano as I just have an affinity for piano music. I took lessons for about a year and a half and have taught myself some Final Fantasy X songs. Classical music won't be in my repertoire.
This is from Super Smash Bros Brawl, the newest in the popular Nintendo fighting games. I still haven't played it unfortunately, but I intend to--it looks awesome. I've heard it's more n00b-oriented, so hopefully I'll do better at Brawl than Melee. Originally though, this song was from some Kirby game which I'm too lazy to look up and it's the theme for one of his enemies, MetaKnight. Metaknight, I've heard, is a pretty good character in Brawl and he looks basically like Kirby in armor with a sword.
Yeah, I don't watch YouTube videos, I listen to them.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Unwanted
I find that I like Stuck Rubber Baby less and less as the book drags on, becoming more trite in terms of narrative and overabundant detail. Honestly, unless someone is crafting a graphic novel like Watchmen that absolutely requires such detail, he needs to go easy on readers. The story isn't as compelling anymore and the themes get old when mired in a surplus of detail. Parsimony is a word that Cruse needs to learn.
As an aside, I also feel the need to rail against the main characters' moral failings. Honestly, Toland is way too self-absorbed and starting to look like the main character in Blankets more and more with his dependency on Ginger. I feel like he's just using her as a lifeline or a facade to convince others he's not gay rather than for any substantial relationship. It's quite aggravating how he gets all high and mighty by proposing a marriage in which he's free to cheat and then speciously asks why she'd want to "experiment" since she's not gay. He shows absolutely no guilt for lying to Riley (not that I much like Riley as an upstanding example of morality either) about his whereabouts and then hopping in the sack with Les. Likewise, I have no idea why Ginger is even in a relationship with Toland. She does not seem to care one whit for him and always talks condescendingly down to him, even while he deifies her like Craig did to Raina.
Now some might criticize me for wanting all characters in a story to fit into my prescribed moral categories, but I'm just complaining about the lack of a strong stable relationship example in the novel. I wish there was something that worked among all the dysfunctional relations among the characters. But perhaps I'm being a hopeless romantic, and such positivity would undermine the point of the comic. Though of course, there is one such example of such a relationship, and that's the one between the older Toland narrating and his boyfriend.
Nevertheless, the comic does bring up some poignant themes to address, and I still count it above Portraits from Life for that. One of these, recently examined in Juno, is unwanted pregnancy and its proliferation in today's society. Granted, during the 60s births out of wedlock were fairly uncommon and frowned upon in general society, as Orley's sensibilities demonstrated. However, his divorce from Melanie foreshadows the cascade of divorces in the 70s and the changing social mores. Even back then Ginger faced the same difficult choices many nonmarried mothers face today.
As an aside, I also feel the need to rail against the main characters' moral failings. Honestly, Toland is way too self-absorbed and starting to look like the main character in Blankets more and more with his dependency on Ginger. I feel like he's just using her as a lifeline or a facade to convince others he's not gay rather than for any substantial relationship. It's quite aggravating how he gets all high and mighty by proposing a marriage in which he's free to cheat and then speciously asks why she'd want to "experiment" since she's not gay. He shows absolutely no guilt for lying to Riley (not that I much like Riley as an upstanding example of morality either) about his whereabouts and then hopping in the sack with Les. Likewise, I have no idea why Ginger is even in a relationship with Toland. She does not seem to care one whit for him and always talks condescendingly down to him, even while he deifies her like Craig did to Raina.
Now some might criticize me for wanting all characters in a story to fit into my prescribed moral categories, but I'm just complaining about the lack of a strong stable relationship example in the novel. I wish there was something that worked among all the dysfunctional relations among the characters. But perhaps I'm being a hopeless romantic, and such positivity would undermine the point of the comic. Though of course, there is one such example of such a relationship, and that's the one between the older Toland narrating and his boyfriend.
Nevertheless, the comic does bring up some poignant themes to address, and I still count it above Portraits from Life for that. One of these, recently examined in Juno, is unwanted pregnancy and its proliferation in today's society. Granted, during the 60s births out of wedlock were fairly uncommon and frowned upon in general society, as Orley's sensibilities demonstrated. However, his divorce from Melanie foreshadows the cascade of divorces in the 70s and the changing social mores. Even back then Ginger faced the same difficult choices many nonmarried mothers face today.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
An Atheist on Religion
After finishing the second half of the assigned reading, I've decided that I do really like Stuck Rubber Baby, regardless of Cruse's unaesthetic drawing style. The detail involved allows me to focus mainly on the narrative and any visual elements that stick out, such as the use of thought bubble panels.
The focus of this blog though, is religion in Stuck Rubber Baby, a topic I believe can be written about without reference to the "graphic" aspect of the novel as per Spencer's instructions. Personally I have never had much use for religion, finding it too difficult to accept any church's tenets on blind faith and seeing far too much hypocrisy in its practitioners.
Part of the reason why I like Cruse's novel is that it portrays the civil rights movement in a very personal way that history books and other anecdotes have failed to do for me so far. The dogmatic, myopic, and pervasive hatred of the Southern whites for anyone who doesn't fit in their little conservative world view is just astonishing. I feel saddened by the strong antipathy of the bigoted that is based on so little understanding. What also saddens me, though it confirms my belief of the religious as hypocritical, is the role of religion in fermenting blind hatred.
There are little details throughout the book that indicate this, including the KKK-esque nature of a religious newspaper. However, the character of Orley, Toland's brother-in-law, probably demonstrates religious prejudice the best. He melodramatically says he will pray for Toland's soul and warns him quite graphically about the tortures of Hell in order to prevent Toland from straying away from societal norms. Never mind any reasoned arguments to believe in God. Just play the fear card, and people will follow like sheep, as the government found out after 9/11.
Other hateful characters aren't shown to blatantly be religious, but considering the background of the era, they probably have used religion to justify their bigotry. In Congress the Civil Rights Act was filibustered by a few white Southern Senators who used the Bible--specifically passages in Leviticus (hmm, also the part of the Bible from which anti-gay sentiments are drawn)--to justify slavery. The extreme violence demonstrated by antagonists in the novel highlights the hypocrisy of the whole supposedly devout Christian South. I guess Jesus's advice to "love each other as I have loved you" only applies to select individuals.
Of course, religion isn't depicted as a tool used to justify one's beliefs in all cases in the book. In fact, African American churches and ministers were rallying points for the civil rights movement. Toland even reflects on the schism between the freedom and justice-themed black churches and the white fear-mongering preachers on the radio who denounce the protests.
In any case, both sides have essentially proclaimed that God is on their side, as quite often happens in times of conflict. Religious fervor is a double-edged sword that can be used to unite and even comfort, or to inflame hatred. How convenient that an omnipotent God doesn't set them straight.
The focus of this blog though, is religion in Stuck Rubber Baby, a topic I believe can be written about without reference to the "graphic" aspect of the novel as per Spencer's instructions. Personally I have never had much use for religion, finding it too difficult to accept any church's tenets on blind faith and seeing far too much hypocrisy in its practitioners.
Part of the reason why I like Cruse's novel is that it portrays the civil rights movement in a very personal way that history books and other anecdotes have failed to do for me so far. The dogmatic, myopic, and pervasive hatred of the Southern whites for anyone who doesn't fit in their little conservative world view is just astonishing. I feel saddened by the strong antipathy of the bigoted that is based on so little understanding. What also saddens me, though it confirms my belief of the religious as hypocritical, is the role of religion in fermenting blind hatred.
There are little details throughout the book that indicate this, including the KKK-esque nature of a religious newspaper. However, the character of Orley, Toland's brother-in-law, probably demonstrates religious prejudice the best. He melodramatically says he will pray for Toland's soul and warns him quite graphically about the tortures of Hell in order to prevent Toland from straying away from societal norms. Never mind any reasoned arguments to believe in God. Just play the fear card, and people will follow like sheep, as the government found out after 9/11.
Other hateful characters aren't shown to blatantly be religious, but considering the background of the era, they probably have used religion to justify their bigotry. In Congress the Civil Rights Act was filibustered by a few white Southern Senators who used the Bible--specifically passages in Leviticus (hmm, also the part of the Bible from which anti-gay sentiments are drawn)--to justify slavery. The extreme violence demonstrated by antagonists in the novel highlights the hypocrisy of the whole supposedly devout Christian South. I guess Jesus's advice to "love each other as I have loved you" only applies to select individuals.
Of course, religion isn't depicted as a tool used to justify one's beliefs in all cases in the book. In fact, African American churches and ministers were rallying points for the civil rights movement. Toland even reflects on the schism between the freedom and justice-themed black churches and the white fear-mongering preachers on the radio who denounce the protests.
In any case, both sides have essentially proclaimed that God is on their side, as quite often happens in times of conflict. Religious fervor is a double-edged sword that can be used to unite and even comfort, or to inflame hatred. How convenient that an omnipotent God doesn't set them straight.
Monday, March 10, 2008
To be continued....
Since I didn't get a chance to finish the Stuck Rubber Baby reading I will elaborate on it later. For now, though...I will say that Cruse impresses me artistically and politically. When Spencer said in class that this graphic novel would be more historical and focused on civil rights, I somehow got the impression that it would be about slavery as I've read so many slavery-oriented books in high school. But this is much better--an in depth focus on the underground culture of the 60s civil rights movement, a troubled era that today is understood by too few students.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Injustice Served
Some clarifications first: my original opinion that Portraits from Life has an annoying narrative style and lacks complexity (the story of Ethel Catherwood, for instance, is laid out clearly, simplistically, and in my opinion boringly, with no room for the reader to draw conclusions of his own) still stands, albeit with some emendations. I can see in some cases how Collier's style of journalistic comics and his use of perspective can be mitigating factors, such as in the David Milgaard story. In other cases, though, as in Richard Collier's story, the perspective changes and flashbacks in time are disorienting for no damn reason. They are presented in random nonlinear ways that have no purpose except to confuse/annoy the reader, just like the overuse of exclamation marks. Even while reading the David Milgaard story I got fed up with the abrupt and arbitrary scene switches between the investigator (David himself, I think) and the past. In Watchmen at least, the narratives all twined together and had a purpose in the end. In the David Milgaard story, it seems like Collier is attempting to use perspective changes to create profundity that simply isn't there.
Furthermore, except for the last story, I think Collier does a poor job of incorporating social commentary in his comics. Just the fact that Ethel Catherwood was a female athlete or that she went into seclusion after her celebrity does not grant the story a profound political angle or raise any important ideological questions. Collier tries too hard to incorporate political elements into everyday stories (for another example, Richard comments on accepting gays) but he still fails in his attempt to cover up the mundane. In other words, I see no reason to care about the characters or any larger social applications of most of the stories. Learning about the Grey Owl hoax might be a fun fact to know or anecdote to tell, but what great significance does his story have? Watchmen and V for Vendetta were much better at addressing problems in society. Though perhaps I am using unfair comparisons by holding Portraits up to these standards.
Okay, now for more detailed comments on the last story, which does partly redeem this graphic novel. I did enjoy Collier's expose of the corruption of the Canadian law enforcement and legal system in condemning David Milgaard to prison for a crime he didn't commit (as an aside, the real killer and rapist is seriously f*ked up--I did not need to know the graphic details of his crimes). This story also sends out a strong message about discrimination and stereotypes: everyone scapegoated Milgaard because of his deviant ways and refused to face up to the truth. The real killer was the exact opposite of Milgaard: respected, well-shaven, in stable relationships, had a stable job, etc. Shows how useful superficial perceptions and judgments are. It also demonstrates how susceptible people are to biased views based on their preconceptions: in other words, the police pressured the witnesses to give evidence that Milgaard was guilty because they believed he was guilty, not on the basis of any good empirical evidence. Sigh, the decline of reason is all too apparent. Though I was also extremely disturbed by the witnesses' lack of moral stamina and their sycophantic pandering to the pressure of the police to give falsified anti-Milgaard testimony. This is a scary example of how justice fails in the Canadian system.
As another aside, Canada is not important (or cool, as I think Spencer tried to imply in class) and this story is more proof of it (not that our legal system is perfect). Though I am probably more annoyed at the fallibility of people with conservative views on personal issues, which is present here too. To sum it up, conservatives and fundys (fundamentalists) suck.
Furthermore, except for the last story, I think Collier does a poor job of incorporating social commentary in his comics. Just the fact that Ethel Catherwood was a female athlete or that she went into seclusion after her celebrity does not grant the story a profound political angle or raise any important ideological questions. Collier tries too hard to incorporate political elements into everyday stories (for another example, Richard comments on accepting gays) but he still fails in his attempt to cover up the mundane. In other words, I see no reason to care about the characters or any larger social applications of most of the stories. Learning about the Grey Owl hoax might be a fun fact to know or anecdote to tell, but what great significance does his story have? Watchmen and V for Vendetta were much better at addressing problems in society. Though perhaps I am using unfair comparisons by holding Portraits up to these standards.
Okay, now for more detailed comments on the last story, which does partly redeem this graphic novel. I did enjoy Collier's expose of the corruption of the Canadian law enforcement and legal system in condemning David Milgaard to prison for a crime he didn't commit (as an aside, the real killer and rapist is seriously f*ked up--I did not need to know the graphic details of his crimes). This story also sends out a strong message about discrimination and stereotypes: everyone scapegoated Milgaard because of his deviant ways and refused to face up to the truth. The real killer was the exact opposite of Milgaard: respected, well-shaven, in stable relationships, had a stable job, etc. Shows how useful superficial perceptions and judgments are. It also demonstrates how susceptible people are to biased views based on their preconceptions: in other words, the police pressured the witnesses to give evidence that Milgaard was guilty because they believed he was guilty, not on the basis of any good empirical evidence. Sigh, the decline of reason is all too apparent. Though I was also extremely disturbed by the witnesses' lack of moral stamina and their sycophantic pandering to the pressure of the police to give falsified anti-Milgaard testimony. This is a scary example of how justice fails in the Canadian system.
As another aside, Canada is not important (or cool, as I think Spencer tried to imply in class) and this story is more proof of it (not that our legal system is perfect). Though I am probably more annoyed at the fallibility of people with conservative views on personal issues, which is present here too. To sum it up, conservatives and fundys (fundamentalists) suck.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Snapshots
I get the feeling that Portraits from Life is probably going to be my least favorite comic so far. I hold narration in high regard...and it's pretty lackluster. There are way too many exclamation marks that make it seem like you should care about the stories, but you really don't. The few panels without narration are a welcome sight...
It is difficult for me to relate as much to these stories partially because of the setting. Despite its being our neighbor (and despite the fact that I've lived there), Canada really isn't on my mind that much. Who cares about Canada, anyways? It's not like it's important in IR (international affairs). So the setting and the names are a bit unfamiliar--when Grey Owl refers to the federal government, I keep thinking it's our federal government. I didn't have this difficulty with V for Vendetta because Moore did a good job of making his world believable and I just have more consciousness of the British way of life, I suppose.
That being said, Collier does incorporate some neat stylistic elements. I like his nuanced drawing style and he uses unusual devices to get points across at times. For instance, in the Ethel Catherwood story, her coach looks like he's floating horizontally when he first sees her as an indication of the magnitude of his surprise. Another visual element that I liked were the wolves' howls in the Grey Owl story, which stretched across panels and steadily increased in size to illustrate a corresponding increase in volume. Collier's drawing style incorporates creative elements and more "action" indicators that are reminiscent of Blankets.
It is difficult for me to relate as much to these stories partially because of the setting. Despite its being our neighbor (and despite the fact that I've lived there), Canada really isn't on my mind that much. Who cares about Canada, anyways? It's not like it's important in IR (international affairs). So the setting and the names are a bit unfamiliar--when Grey Owl refers to the federal government, I keep thinking it's our federal government. I didn't have this difficulty with V for Vendetta because Moore did a good job of making his world believable and I just have more consciousness of the British way of life, I suppose.
That being said, Collier does incorporate some neat stylistic elements. I like his nuanced drawing style and he uses unusual devices to get points across at times. For instance, in the Ethel Catherwood story, her coach looks like he's floating horizontally when he first sees her as an indication of the magnitude of his surprise. Another visual element that I liked were the wolves' howls in the Grey Owl story, which stretched across panels and steadily increased in size to illustrate a corresponding increase in volume. Collier's drawing style incorporates creative elements and more "action" indicators that are reminiscent of Blankets.
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