THE NEW 52-OMAC #1

Depending on who you talk to, OMAC was either Jack Kirby's WORST piece of work or a hidden gem. It was created at the end of Kirby's stint with DC and legend has it that the book only existed because Kirby was contracted to turn out 15 pages a week and this is what he came up with. The book was cancelled after 8 issues, with the character of Buddy Blank (OMACs host as it were) being brought into the continuity of Kirby's KAMANDI making him the boy's grandfather. The  character also showed up in COUNTDOWN. DC also got the bright idea to make the OMACS a part of  the lead-in to INFINITE CRISIS, making them cyborgs who take over humans in order to assassinate  super powered individuals. For purists like me, it was nice to see the name get used but not the OMAC I grew up with.


As part of DC Comics "soft reboot" of their titles, Dan Didio, Keith Giffen and Scott Koblish  are resurrecting the character or at least a new version of it. And they have truly turned it  into a Kirby tribute of sorts.


We get introduced to Cadmus Industries: "the corporate leader in genetic research". We meet  Jody Robbins and Tony Jay, who are looking for their co-worker Kevin Kho. Next thing we know,  all you know what is breaking loose and a blue skinned behemoth with a mohawk calling himself  OMAC appears and proceeds to tear up the place for several pages. Employees are gathered  outside and we meet Martin Welman, the Vice President of Research who is having a phone  conversation with someone, exclaiming the "security has been breached" and the "lower levels  have been compromised".


Sure enough, we get a view of the underground: "the true Cadmus Project". And here we see an  old familiar face-Lord Mokkari...straight from Fourth World. OMAC arrives and is met by an army of  defenders led by the old DNA Alien himself, Dubbilex. He does a little mid reading and we get a  very brief glimpse of OMAC's younger life. The blue skinned one is prodded towards a goal by a  mysterious voice in his head and he proceeds to track down the mainframe in Cadmus and destroy  it. Making his way back to the surface, OMAC transforms into Kevin Kho who is told to call his  worried girlfriend by the mysterious voice in his head. In a great final full page panel, we  get to see Brother Eye.


I wasn't going to buy this book, as I am still a bit ticked off by the OMAC PROJECT from a few  years back. But I happened to have some extra disposable income one week and picked it up. I  have to say I was pleasantly surprised by it. I mean, I'm the first to admit that, good or bad,  I am a Kirby fan and always have been. I smiled through his great Fourth World books and  grimaced at things like SILVER STAR and CAPTAIN VICTORY. But, square fingers and all, Jack  could certainly tell a story and draw some great action. And I have happy memories of this dumb  little book from back in the day. So, despite it being the contractual comics, I liked it  because it was a quick read and pretty mindless.


So I bought the book with my disposable capital and liked it a lot. I won't go as far as saying  I loved it because there are some things I don't like. First the good: Keith Giffen and Scott  Koblish are rocking the Kirby look right down to the square fingers. In fact, Koblish' inks are  very reminiscent of Mike Royer's. The book SCREAMS KIRBY: the plotting, the panel design, the  big, epic fight scenes. You would swear someone dug up Jack and put him back to work and STILL  wouldn't give him his artwork back. Dan Didio obviously has a love for the characters Jack  created and I love the fact he's dropped Cadmus and some Fourth World elements right in the  first issue. It's obvious with Geoff Johns dropping Darkseid into his plot for JUSTICE LEAGUE #1  that DC is going to go that route, although we did destroy the New Gods awhile back and did  this whole convoluted storyline with the Anti-Life Equation during FINAL CRISIS. Let's hope we  don't make a mess of it.


On the negative side, a lot of action and very little plot development. Okay, we meet three  named co-workers of Kevin Kho, see the real Cadmus in action and get a lot of fighting. But  little else. And to have Kho missing on page one and OMAC show up on page three...well, if you  didn't think that Kho was going to turn out to be the big blue guy then you obviously need a  plot where you have it shoved down your throat. That's kind of like having Bruce Banner be  noticeably absent and the Hulk show up. Also interesting is that Jack originally conceived OMAC  as the everyman turned hero, much like he had done with Captain America. With this guy and the  blue skin and some pretty fractured dialogue, he seem more like a blue Hulk with a mohawk.


Overall, I am planning on giving this book a few issues anyway in hopes that plot exposition  will improve. For now, I just get the joy of geeking out at some good Kirbyesque style.

BTW: look for the mysterious hooded stranger in panel #4 on page 6. Can't miss it as DC has  started putting a rose colored glow around the being, just to make it easier to spot.

THE NEW 52-ACTION COMICS #1

As part of DC Comics "soft reboot" of their titles, Grant Morrison, he of the bald head and some of the coolest comics of the last 15 years, and Rags Morales, truly a great artist going back to some of his earliest work like RAGMAN, have been handed the reigns of ACTION COMICS: home of the most famous space orphan in comics, Superman. A big task, but certainly not above these two talents. Beware: spoilers follow.


Our story begins with our hero arriving to break up a little party with Mr. Glenmorgan and his associates. Supes, dressed in non-traditional blue shirt with the classic S and blue jeans.(you read right), decides he needs to put a little fear in Mr. Glenmorgan and dives off the roof with him as the Metropolis Police force looks on. The trick pays off as the crooked businessman confesses to numerous crimes. The police aren't too thrilled about his methods, take some pretty bad shots at him and the brash hero takes off, daring the police to catch him.


Meanwhile General Lane and Lex Luthor monitor the situation, noting that Superman is now faster and stronger than he was when he first appeared six months earlier. Another test for the Man of Steel, as he saves a family from a wrecking ball-obviously a test initiated by Luthor and Lane. Superman defeats an armored tank in the process but not without taking some lumps. Yes-Superman gets bruised in a battle with the Army. Clark Kent ends up at his dingy apartment where his landlady is badgering him about the rent. He proceeds to pay her with a good sized wad of cash he claims he got for covering Intergang (nice to see that introduced into the story...seems not everything has been thrown out in the new DC revivals).


Next we meet Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane, who work for the Daily Planet. Clark is working for the Daily Star: the rival newspaper in Metropolis. Nice to see that too as the Daily Star was the first newspaper Kent worked for back in his 1930's origin. Clark tries to warn them about the trains, as they have connections to Glenmorgan and could pose a threat. No sooner do those words exit Jimmy's mouth and the stuff hits the fan. Supes arrives to stop the runaway train and takes quite the beating (well-blood pushing out from his ears could be a clue). Our boy stops the train and the last image we see is our hero slammed into the wall of the Daily Planet building, held in place by the nose of the train, with Metropolis Police ready to take him into custody. And it seems this may have been orchestrated by everyone's favorite bald villain Lex Luthor.


Thus ends issue #1.


I have mixed emotions about this book. Let it be said, I am a huge fan of Morrison's work, specifically his ANIMAL MAN, THE INVISIBLES, his runs on DOOM PATROL, ALL STAR SUPERMAN, BATMAN AND ROBIN and even such underrated work at FINAL CRISIS and SEVEN SOLDIERS OF VICTORY. His writing is always innovative and usually full of twists and turns. I just don't like Superman or Clark Kent's characterization or any of the other major characters for that matter. Let's start with Superman. He's young and brash and definitely not the "big blue Boy Scout" we have all grown up with. He's cocky. Okay-I get that he's younger than the Superman we're accustomed to, but he's just punky at times. And the whole scene with the landlady literally made be shout: "He's Clark Kent NOT Peter f'ing' Parker!" I understand where Morrison is coming from. We have been told that his adoptive parents are dead in this continuity and don't get to be that moral lightning rod for him. But Clark Kent of SMALLVILLE was never this cocky.


Lois Lane wavers back and forth, in the short time we deal with her, wavers between Margot Kidder circa SUPERMAN THE MOVIE and Lois Lane from the FLASHPOINT mini-series bearing her name. She's arrogant and competitive and then becomes a shrinking violet. And who decided it was a good idea to have Jimmy Olsen lose his bow tie and get a haircut that is equal parts Justin Bieber and Moe Howard?
General Lane hasn't quite reached the evil status he did in previous continuity and strikes me as somewhere out of an old INCREDIBLE HULK comic, being equal parts Thunderbolt Ross and Glenn Talbot. And Lex? Well, he's Lex: businessman with a plan. Not yet the mad Lex wearing an armored suit or carrying around a Kryptonite ring.


And I'm not quite a big fan of this limited power Superman. I understand it's at the beginning of his career and he hasn't quite got the flying or leaping over tall buildings thing figured out yet. But not invincible? Well, we all know he gained these powers because of his exposure to our sun. So, either that no longer holds true OR he got here 6 months before the comic started and that would mean he arrived as an adult, not an infant.


On the plus side, the nod to history(complete with Clark talking to Daily Star editor George Taylor) is nice and the book is loaded with a lot of action and only a nominal amount of dialogue to get in the way. It's pretty concise storytelling with the proper amount of downtime between adventures. It's nicely paced and a good read overall.


Rags Morales artwork is awesome, as expected. I have been a huge fan of Rags' work going back to his Valiant days on TUROK and ARCHER AND ARMSTRONG


I figure I will give this title a few issues anyway. I mean, it's Superman, Morrison and Morales. It can't get worse(I hope) and can only get better. I'm curious to see where Morrison takes this in the coming months and can't wait to see his take on Perry White.


BTW: if you're keeping score, the mysterious hooded figure from FLASHPOINT #5 appears here as well. Look for him/her in the crowded train car as it's getting ready to crash.

The New 52: JUSTICE LEAGUE #1

As most of the comic reading world knows, DC Comics has recently decided to reboot their entire line of mainstream comics books and make their characters more modern and accessible to the current audience. This all began with the FLASHPOINT mini-series that put The Flash into an alternate reality-one where Thomas Wayne was the Batman and the world was on the verge of being torn apart by a war between Aquaman's undersea forces and Wonder Woman's amazon army. With the end of that series, The Flash sees three different timelines and a mysterious hooded figure who tells him that three timelines need to be reunited to combat a mysterious evil. As a result, the DC, Vertigo, and WildStorm universes merge to create was is now known as the DCnU.


Following the conclusion of this mini-series, DC ended publication of all it's core books, including such time honored and long running titles as ACTION COMICS, DETECTIVE COMICS and WONDER WOMAN. All DC titles were renumbered and relaunched with new #1 issues. The new continuity featured new outfits and revised history for many heroes and villains. DC editors Eddie Berganza and Bob Harras refer to this as a "soft reboot", with many classic stories remaining intact including BRIGHTEST DAY, IDENTITY CRISIS, THE KILLING JOKE, BLACKEST NIGHT and A DEATH IN THE FAMILY. Among the major changes were alterations in Superman's history(he never married Lois Lane, is a bachelor and The Kents have passed away), turning Booster Gold into a Canadian, the rolling of the Wildstorm Universe into the DCnU and the fact that superheroes only began to appear in the DC Universe five years ago, meaning most of DC's 70 plus years of continuity were swept away. Much of Batman's continuity remains intact with there being only one Batman(Bruce Wayne), one Robin(his son Damien) and Barbara Gordon, paralyzed by the incident in KILLING JOKE, returning to her career as Batgirl. The Green Lantern line is also not affected, following events that transpired in "War of the Green Lanterns". 


On August 31, DC released FLASHPOINT #5 and it's flagship book, JUSTICE LEAGUE #1.The book, by Geoff Johns, Jim Lee and Scott Williams, begins five years ago with the Gotham police taking target practice at Batman and a strange extraterrestrial creature. In the midst of the battle, Green Lantern arrives to introduce himself and lend a hand.They track the creature underground and discover what those long term comic fans once would call a Mother Box. The creature activates it, screams "For Darkseid" and proceeds to explode. The Box is left unharmed.Meanwhile, star football player Vic Stone, who comic fans know became Cyborg,is running up numbers and looking forward to the state finals. Batman and Green Lantern end up in Metropolis, certainly not the city we know and love. In fact, they land at a demolition site with a sign reading "Lexcorp"-Building the City of Tomorrow Today". Before Green Lantern can even spout off much more than a couple of lines of dialogue, he finds himself laid out by Superman, complete with new Kryptonian styled suit. Thus ends issue #1.


Well, not long after this hit the stands, the firestorm began from fans. So just how bad is it? 


It's a mess...  


I had such high hopes for this book, being that all of the Justice League related titled represent the core of the New 52. The dialogue is old school corny and not in a good way. Green Lantern has become the embodiment of everything the Ryan Reynolds movie character had become. He spouts lines like "Green Lantern's got this", "Dark Side. What's that? A band?" and how the Space Sector is his "beat", he outdoes himself when he learns that Batman has no super powers and exclaims: "you're not just some guy in a bat costume, are you? Are you freaking kidding me?" His Hal Jordan bravado has been replaced by juvenile lines and the angst of a teenager. Batman is no better. He may be the brooding Dark Knight but, in his spiffy new costume(must EVERYONE wear body armor now), he just comes off as...well, a guy in a bat costume.And the once and future Cyborg making a cameo just sets him up for his origin and becoming a part of this new team.


The book is a solid 20 minute read at best-the perfect time, to refer to an old John byrne line, to sit on the toilet and kill some time. The artwok is typical Jim Lee which is clean and all flash. It looks like an Image book and reads like one. And I have no problem with revising history. After all, I really enjoyed SMALLVILLE and that show made major changes into the Superman mythos. But the whole change in characterization and costumes has left me cold. For this to be the documentation of the first meeting of two of the architects of the DC Universe is pretty embarrassing. 


While I will probably read the first five issue arc, just to see how Johns puts this monumental team together, I don't see myself in for the long haul. It is not representative of the great DC superhero team...and I suffered through some of the JLA's lean years(remember Gypsy?). This is nothing but fluff with no substance.


By the way, the mysterious figure from FLASHPOINT #5? Well, that person appears in all of the New 52 books. Who is it? Internet speculation has been running rampant with everyone from The Time Trapper to Pariah being predicted. Look for our mysterious visitor in the stands during Vic Stone's football game.  

More of where I'm at...

I came into an interesting place in my life in the past few years and, looking back on things, I feel valuable about my place in my life. Yeah . . . a little vague, so let me explain.

Back in 2008, my youngest child, affectionately known as ‘The Bug’, came into my life. It was an emotional experience that led me to look at my stature in my work. I had recently been promoted and was finding myself under many work hours and a lot of pressure. I would come home, barely eat, snap at the family and fall asleep in a chair,  on the couch or sometimes on the floor. The next day I would get up and repeat the process. It didn’t take me long to figure out that, after over two decades as a manager, this was not the place in my life where I either wanted or needed to be. My panic attacks were getting worse, with me waking some three hours before I needed to and battling to get my mind to stop racing long enough for me to catch some much needed sleep.
Thoughts of suicide were becoming pretty common and I knew it was only a matter of time before I would try to find the courage to line up all the pill bottles in the house and make the big leap into the waiting place after life. That in itself was proof of how much I was hurting. The most common recurring dream I had as a child was falling down the stairs in the house where I grew up and telling myself that I needed to wake before I hit bottom or I would die in the dream. Since I first had that dream, when I was 10 or 11 years old, I have been petrified of death and what does or doesn’t lie beyond this mortal plane. Is life a big light switch and when the switch goes off it all ends? Is there an afterlife and what is it like? Do I get to be resurrected as someone else a thousand years from now with no memory of this life? Have I been here before and THIS is the life that I get to remember?
Despite all those fears, the pain I was feeling was immense. Family could not help me because they did not understand. Friends thought I was crazy and needed to up my medication. My boss and co-workers didn’t know what it felt like. They just knew I was not myself anymore. Every day, I would pray for something, ANYTHING, to take me off the playing field, even for a little while.
It all came down to making the decision to step down from my position, although I had only been there for a scant six weeks. It took my baby to make me realize how much I wanted to be there to watch her and her sister mature and grow to beautiful young women. In addition, I knew that I would never survive long enough to see that happen unless I did something about it now. So I did, much to the disappointment of my boss and many of my co-workers. And I don’t care what they think . . . although I know some of them will read this and talk amongst themselves. I did what I did because I wanted to live where I knew that STAYING where I was would kill me or I would kill me. Pretty strong stuff, but it’s true.
And every day of my life, even some three years AFTER the fact, I wake up and feel the panic gripping me. I will deal with this for the rest of my days. And some days I find it hard NOT to go looking for the pill bottles. But I force myself to get through it. Every day, I tell my family and friends to leave me alone for an hour or so . . .just so I can get my mind into my work or my writing or just cooking breakfast for the kids. I need that down time early on to put my head into the proper place. And Wednesdays are still THE WORST. But I force myself to get through that too.
Every day we hear about the economy and the loss of jobs and I watch my 401K go down the tubes like everyone else. I worry about it-I’d have to be crazy NOT TO. But I force myself to live in the now instead of the future. Financially, that’s not the best place to be but it is mentally. Even in the depressed market, I find myself enjoying the sweeter things in life. In August of 2009, the Munchkin and I went to see Coldplay on their U.S. tour. Tickets weren’t cheap, but we were there and, if I had to do it again, I would find a way to make it happen. The year before that, The Munchkin went to her first BIG concert by seeing the Jonas Brothers and I was there with her: including a second time in 2010. This is one of those beautiful things that I can share with my oldest: being able to do the concert thing and find a common ground between HER music and MINE and realizing how they intersect quite nicely. How many pre teens do you know who go into the local Hot Topic with their half century mark of an old man and want to buy an Iron Maiden shirt? God: I am truly blessed.
She gets a little bummed that we CAN’T see all the concerts we’d like to. But I we do hit a bunch of shows every year at a place called The Narrows (great venue for a concert). In the past few years, we have seen Johnny Winter, Hot Tuna, Forever Young(twice) Susan Cowsill(twice), Fairport Convention and have our seats ready to go for drumming legend Carl Palmer. We also got to see Heaven and Hell on Ronnie James Dio's next to last gig before his untimely death. And Sara Barellies just last week, but mostly for my friends Raining jane, who greeted us warmly and made us feel like the band was with us! 

The Munchkin and I, when we can pry the big tv away from her little sister, watch a lot of movies and TV together. While we still can take pleasure in old standbys(thanks to a fairly intense DVD collection) like HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER, BIG BANG THEORY, LOST, SMALLVILLE and SUPERNATURAL,  she has matured enough to run through such intense films as SEVEN, ROMEO + JULIET, FIGHT CLUB and DAWN OF THE DEAD(the remake). She's pre-teen but you have to see where her mindset is. She LOVES zombie movies, especially if she gets to watch the bonus features on the effects. It takes the edge off and I see the wheels turn as she thinks about how cool it could be to do some of that stuff. This is a very special kid, who counts MOULIN ROUGE as her favorite movie of all time and puts BLACKHAWK DOWN in her top 5 list. She appreciates quality work and cheese at the same time.
Life is good.
Let me do a momentary about face and speak about music and my good friends Becky and Brian for a minute. I first saw the Becky Chace Band perform in 2001 and I refer to it as the night that The Munchkin learned how to clap after a performer finished their song. I watched Becky do a leaping split off the drum riser during a rendition of Light Of Day and swore I saw possibly the best unsigned band in North America. I still feel they are in that group of struggling musicians today. I was privileged to see them again in 2002 and in 2003, opening for the legendary Mark Farner. That was the night I finally got to meet the band and Becky Chace and Brian Minisce have been two of my closest friends ever since.
How close?  My wedding present to Brian was producing his wedding video. Not making a discounted video… my present was to shoot his wedding and do full production. That was MY present to him for providing me with so much joy over the years. And I was happy to do it. In fact, that was the LAST wedding I shot (get screwed my another client and see how quickly you lose your taste for the business!) and one of the most important for me to produce. Being told it looked like THE GODFATHER by the groom still ranks as a highpoint in my life.
In early 2004, I got to see them in a small club setting, we talked some more and I pre-ordered their CD RESCUE. As it turned out, I next saw them on May 1, 2004 and started a long associated of photographing the gigs for me and for them. Three days later, I attended the funeral of the father of my old friend Randy and, deeply depressed, came home to find the RESCUE CD in my mailbox. Three weeks of listening to NOTHING but that record and I saw lots of things in a whole new way. More about that experience and where I am today in a minute.
Between 2004 and today, I would guess I have seen the band in it’s various incarnations about 200 times. And I still get religion every time. Seeing Trina Hamlin makes me feel that way. And Beth Wood too. No matter how rotten a day, I know I can spend an hour or two with the band and it all goes away. And it helps when some of my closest friends, people I have met from doing the shows, are there with me. 

 

Okay, back to 2004. Actually, back before that.
In the mid 1980’s, the band Mephisto Waltz was formed. Out of the ashes of Mephisto Waltz came The Hellfire Club, which morphed into Brideshead and finally became the legendary Briar Rose. The common denominator among all the bands was and is the musical genius that is Randy Blake II. I met Randy just before Waltz came to an end and offered my assistance from a musical standpoint. Little did I know that would become a nearly three year musical and personal partnership filled with all the stuff bands go through and more. We recorded, correct me Randy if I’m wrong, fifteen songs as The Hellfire Club and then the album BEGGARS AND BUSINESSMEN as Brideshead before I had to make a decision which was to either pursue music in all of my free time or try and find myself and my future. I chose the latter and I sometimes find myself kicking myself for it. On the plus side-my wife and my family. On the downside-I spent almost two decades away from a friend I laughed and cried with…and sometimes laughed until I cried with.
Well, Briar Rose, a band that saw much more international success than Brideshead ever did, came back from the grave in 2009 with a new CD recorded in England under the guidance of The Dark Lord himself, Chris Tsangarides. And Randy and I spent many long months working on the CD design phase of the production. It sure felt damn good to be back in the saddle with my old mate again and made us both realize how much we missed each other. Following the completion of that project, I found myself hanging out at band rehearsals, taking pictures and adding my two cents worth regarding how it all sounded. In late November, the group decided to record a one off cover as a holiday track and I was asked to play keyboards on it. Honored, I took to breaking out the old Korg DS-8 workhorse that was my favorite board of choice back in the Brideshead days. On the night we decided to work the song out and record it, I discovered that the old beast had up and died. Apparently, there is a small watch battery inside designed to keep the internal memory active. That had up and crapped out after some 20+ years of life.

Long story short,  that situation is still being investigated as a new battery and patch loads led to a slightly resurrected beast. But an unfortunate drop accident on my part led to one of the battery contacts being sheared off the circuit board and, despite drummer Jay Vanderpool’s best efforts, the poor beast lies in a dormant state waiting for someone to hopefully bring it back to life.

The reason for the need to revive her is that the band officially brought be into the fold just before Christmas and I found myself as a writing, recording and performing member of Briar Rose. A high honor to say the least. When Briar Rose was formed in 1988, it was designed to be a metal band with nods to keyboard infused hard rock bands such as Uriah Heep and Deep Purple. I had opted out of that lifestyle and the keyboard idea went with it. As Randy likes to say: “You were supposed to be in this group from the beginning.”

At the age of 51, I never thought I would get the chance to play in front of an audience again. Those days were behind me and I quickly realized how tough it would be as I tried to learn 3 CDs worth of material. Back in the day, I would go to work, come home and have all the time in the world each night to practice. With a job, house, two kids and all manner of things ranging from Internet games to dvds to distract me, not to mention being 51 and being pretty pooped by the end of the day, my time is stretched to the max. My hands are not as quick as they used to be and my memory is not what it once was. However, I slogged on through knowing there were gigs on the way and I needed to be ready for them. I also knew that I need to shell out some cash for some gear, as Randy’s old DS-21 couldn't handle the full weight of what I wanted to do as a player. 

 

So, with the help of a loan from my dad, still helping me out after all these years, I bought a nice big Yamaha and a nice 300-watt amp and a nice big keyboard stand. And off we went, playing gigs and writing material. As I write this, most of the material for the next disc is ready to roll and it's time to go into the studio-an interesting place for me as I haven't been in that position in 23 years. It harkens back to the old days when Randy and I would jam and write together. 23 years gone since our last collaborations and it feels right again. Actually, it feels better than before, as it is truly a GROUP effort. Jay, Randy, guitarist Vinaya Saksena, bassist Chris Landoch and I are not always on the same page and we each recognize our collective shortcomings. But there is no animosity here-no underlying jealousy. We all go in a direction that feels right for us and the music. It is a total TEAM EFFORT here. 

And that feels right too. But we’re a metal; band, remember? We can’t do that! Yeah, we f**king can! We are a group of musicians who like our metal and play our metal. Nevertheless, we are all musicians and find that our best ideas sometimes come from stretching out and just coming out of the box. We may never record some of these sessions although we should. They take our creative minds to a new place and exponentially increase our musical relationships.  There is trust in our abilities and that allows us to push ourselves beyond four chords and a scream. Not that the band was EVER about four chords and a scream. It was, before I was there and probably long after I’m gone, always about making the best music and realizing the vision. 

Lastly, my writing. I should have spent the last two hours working on one of the books9there are two completed ones, a third being tweaked and a fourth in progress-all stories for a later time), but I chose to do this instead. I have found myself with new inspiration as of late as I have been going to my roots and reading classic pulp novels and noir crime pieces. They have nothing to do with my actual writing but more with the inspiration they provide. Hard Case Crime has published over 60 noir styled fiction novels from a host of writers including Erle Stanley Gardner, Max Allen Collins, Stephen King, Robert B. Parker, Robert Bloch, E. Howard Hunt, Mickey Spillane, Roger Zelazny and Lester Dent . . . more on him in a minute. They are relatively quick reads and feel like the books the Frank Miller tried to draw inspiration from when writing SIN CITY. With a new novel each month, I’m finding it hard to keep up AND get my missing titles. But I’m working at it. And in doing so, I’m enjoying a style of writing so lost to me until now. It has allowed me to expand on some of my work and use some novel storytelling ideas along the way.
I got to grow up reading my dad’s meager collection of aviation pulps he had when he was a kid. That led to the legendary G-8 and his battle Aces, which were reprinted in 1970(and most recently, a short series by Adventure House), The Shadow and, of course, Bantam Books reprinting of Doc Savage. Unfortunately, my huge collection of those Bantam Books are long gone, as are the G-8’s. But, Nostalgia Ventures began reprinting these classic Lester Dent tales(see…knew we’d get back to him) in the fall of 2006 and I have been devouring them as of late. Again-for inspiration and sheer delight. Every night I digest two or three chapters before bed and then dream of where they will take me.
It’s a good thing.
To that end, I hope to have the first book, the one that is impetus for all the others that follow, completely retooled by December. I had originally hoped to be done by Christmas 2010, but that was not meant to be as other writings took over. Once that book is completed, it’s back to work on #2 which is the most complicated of the bunch. #3 is about half complete and needs to be finished. It is a direct sequel to #1. And the fourth book? Well, it ties into all three that came before but also stands alone.
Confused? Me too! But hopefully, like my life, it will all come out good in the end.

And, since this blog is supposed to be about comics, I have been digging into the "NEW 52" from DC. Hope to let you know what I think of the first batch shortly. All I can say for know is some of it is really cool, some of it different and one or two are just plain awful. but that's my opinion and look forward to controversy. 

Until then, thanks for reading.

From fear through the eyes of madness

Friendship is a weird thing. We go through our lives making friends and losing them. Early on, we think our closest friends will be those who will be with us forever. I have learned, over my 51 years on this planet, that is not the case. Good friends seem to move through my life every few years. They don’t go away because of anything I have done, at least not to my knowledge. They just go away because we move on. I had a science teacher in high school who explain it this way: you begin as atoms and cluster together. Then you move on, join up with other atoms and bond for a time. Then you break apart and the process repeats.

I never knew how true that was until a few years ago.

When I first went to school, my best friend was this kid named David. He was probably best described as the poster child for what we would now call Hyper Activity Attention Deficit Disorder. He wouldn’t go down for naps, attacked the teachers, ran around constantly and was totally disruptive to the surroundings. He was crazy and I will always have the memory of his constant antics. I haven’t seen him since I was five years old and, in hindsight, wouldn’t refer to him as a friend. He was just someone passing through my life.

First grade meant a new school and new students. My best friend during those first three years was a guy named Phil. Phil was also a bit hyper, but he was cool to hang with because we were both geeks. First time I ever cried at school is because we were playing like we were monsters during recess and the teacher though we were fighting and sent us to the principal’s office. It took a lot of explaining on our part to convince her that we were just acting out. Phil was with me all through high school, although we ended up hanging with different crowds. Nice thing was that Phil became hard and tough and physically fit and was not someone you messed around with. But it was nice to have him watching your back if you needed to. I still run into Phil, usually once a year or so, and he is still kind and compassionate towards me. And it’s still nice to know that, even after all these years, he would probably still have my back if I needed him to.

The second half of elementary school meant another school, due to a district change and a new friend. Bob lived two blocks away from me but, until we got in the same class, never crossed paths. One of my closest friends through high school, we hung out together, did the concert thing together, partied together and suffered through sport team disasters and relationship problems together. We traded baseball cards, talked about girls and experienced some legendary musical acts  for the first time together. We thought nothing would tear us apart.

But the end of college meant the end of hanging around. He had his job and interests and I had mine. We recently reconnected on a social networking site. He has his job and his family and a new set of friends, although we both do occasionally reminisce about  those high school years and the fun we had.

College meant a completely different group of friends, mostly those I shared classes with or spent time on the college newspaper and radio station with. But four years and a degree meant moving on in our lives. With the exception of a few of them, many of whom I have reconnected with in the last year or so, they have become the stuff of memory-not the lifelong acquaintances we all promised to be.

Post college, my friends became my co-workers. They were the people you spent half of your days working with and the other half just hanging out with. My buddy Gerry and I shared an interest in professional wrestling and worked on designing our own HO train layout. Most of those buildings ended up at his place, where the layout was planned and started. I haven’t been there in over 20 years, although we occasionally bump into each other. His life and his interests are no longer a part of mine. His job took him away from my job and it seems that once someone leaves your life, they sometimes never come back.

Then I ended up in a band and played that role for close to three years. Days, nights, weekends were spent at my friend Randy’s house as we plotted on how to conquer the world with our music. The commitment became too much for me and I opted out rather than hold the group back. While the friendship never ended and has recently been rekindled as strong as ever, we lost touch for over two decades as we pursued other things. Me: I pursued a wife and she became my friend.

Along this time, with one interest ending and another beginning, I became friends with Mark and Mike. Together, along with some other talented and energetic individuals, we began a publication dedicated to our common love of comics. THE PODIUM ran monthly for over five years. It never missed a deadline and was never late. It went to comic fans near and fan and many comic professionals who I held to the highest of pedestals, became my readers. Mark and Mike have since gotten married and, while Mark pops in and out of my life every now and then, Mike has been a constant. Until recently, when the pressures of family and job have made him a stranger to me and my family to his.  But, we're it not for them, THE PODIUM would never have gotten off the ground and I would never have met so many people with whom that publication made a difference.

One of the staff became my best friend. We designed projects together, worked on special issues, discussed content and spent a hell of a lot of time together. But an editorial decision on my part, and after all, I was PAYING for all of this, resulted in his getting miffed and writing a scathing letter where I was referred to as God in the most derogatory of manners. Flustered but not defeated, I never responded, choosing to run the letter in the publication for the world to see how angry he was. Critics questioned my decision but ultimately the remaining staff was left standing through it all and the publication which ceased printed existence when it became too much of a burden, continued online at it’s own web site until AOL shut down their hometown pages in October of 2008. I still feel it stands as a testament to going out and doing what you love.

While this was going on, I hooked up with the editor of a book called TAPESTRY. Steve and I talked comics and decided to do something good for the industry. At his suggestion, we spent six months pouring all of our energy into organizing the First Ever Massachusetts Literary Exposition. Letters, phone calls and such were put into place in anticipation of the fund raiser for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. We gathered auction items, booked hotel rooms, confirmed guest lists, deigned posters and hyped the heck out of the event. We did the best job we could and, with help of one of the gurus of the industry, raised over $1,200 for the cause. Within a year or two, Steve was married. I shot his wedding and really haven’t seen or heard from him since.

I say shot because, in 1992, I became involved with one of my high school friends who had started his own video business. In 1996, he coerced me into working with him and for over 10 years we did shoots together, planned on how we would take over the world, hung out with some really cool musicians and even wrote a movie screenplay together. But my family responsibilities became intense and his business structure changed, as did my work responsibilities making it nearly impossible to maintain the pace I used to. up until last weekend, we saw each other last when I picked up a dvd he produced for me. Does this mean we are no longer friends? No, it just means our atoms are flying in different directions.

I have said in past blogs how I am blessed to have some great online friends who I have met through MySpace and Facebook. But many of them have fallen by the wayside as of late because of things in their lives going on. And I miss them. So, if you’re reading this, come back. I’m starting to get a complex and think it must be me.

What I guess it all boils down to is that my best friend in my life right now is my oldest daughter. She and I share so much together and I know, that once she hits puberty and develops a group of friend that I have little control over, I will lose that bond. And that is slowly starting to happen. As I write this, she is up in her room, eating dinner and probably playing WIZARD 101 online with whoever. For now, we laugh, cry and pal around like my dad and I used to do. Not that we have fallen out of favor. He and I still get together and do stuff. It just that the world moves way too fast and sometimes you get caught up in the motion of it all. Yeah, I love my kids more than anything but I have always told my oldest that she will always be my favorite no matter what. I hope she never lets me down and that we have that bond until I die. My little one is slowly creeping into that position, as the world of superheroes still enthralls her and gives us a common ground. She's my cuddle bunny and her smile always cheers me up.

So make friends and hold them as near as you feel the need to. Just remember it is all about family when it is all done.

Where I'm at and how I got there.

For those who may or may not know, which is probably most of you, I had knee surgery in 2005 to correct some torn cartilage. Following the surgery and during my six weeks of recovery, I began to have some mental anguish issues. No idea why...just some serious sh*t in the cranium department involving anxiety issues and panic attacks. So, besides being medicated (which was changed at least once), my Doctor referred me to a Psychiatrist. Fine-the fact that this person's client base, by my own physician's description as "intense", was enough to get the anxiety juices flowing. But, I did as I was told.
 
Well...bad enough I wait TWO HOURS to see him(yes...TWO HOURS AFTER my scheduled time), but I got 8 minutes of time and was finally told he couldn't tell me why I was having those panic attacks, suggested I lay off on caffeine, nicotine and alcohol, was given an assortment of different meds to see what was right for me and told to come back in a month.
 
To be totally honest, I got more mental relief talking with Bobo (an affectionate nickname for my cousin. As you will learn, I don't dwell often on real names, usually nicknames and code names) some 8 hours later or any of my friends at the 'Sider on Thursday nights(The Barnsider was a restaurant in Providence, now gone, where I spent many a Thursday night hanging with new found friends and the Becky Chace Band...more about all of that in future posts).
 
Now, as far as the clients went, they kept to themselves. Good thing because this was not a collection of people out of ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST as I led myself to believe. This was a collection of recovering drug addicts, both male and female, who were relating tales of what and who they did to score their hits, who they knew that had OD'ed, complaining about having their Oxy and Methodone amounts cut back and numerous other tales too gory for me to want to go into. Not to mention the one guy wearing only his bathrobe and his NEW MJ32 sneakers.
 
Realize that this was not during a group therapy session. this was in the WAITING ROOM while ESPN rattled off sport scores from the night before. Very, very strange indeed. 
   
Oh...did I tell you about the working girl(a guess but I think a good one), dressed straight out of a bad 80's teen flick (teased hair and that funky tights under jean shorts look)who was sitting out in front of this place dry humping some guy in full view of both street traffic and those of us inside? Thought not...I would have remembered that!
 
What I discovered by all this was that there are truly people out there far worse off than I and that there are probably really good Psychistrists who help open up those needed channels and those who you might want to have a drink with but not have treat you.
 
I had the latter, but still wouldn't have invited to a 'Sider gig!

I guess the best thing about being unbalanced is that you realize you are and you try to go from there.

Wait let me clarify: I' m not insane just a little despondent and bewildered and unbalanced. Sometimes it helps me to say that I'm insane because it aids in answering those things I cant quite figure out.

The other nice thing about realizing I have a problem is that there is clarity within it all. After the whole debacle describe above, I got in touch with a Therapist who has been my life-line through really good and really reall bad since 2006. He had convinced me to get off the alleged "panic meds" I was prescribed and had gotten me into a more healthy way. Grapefruit juice and water has replaced caffeine; granola has replaced junk food-vitamins have replaced the meds.

So clarity has replaced the numbness. The pain still arrives and creeps in and still tweaks me out at times. But I fight it as best I can.

Not that I don't have my failures. The grandeur of clarity is that it allows me to feel. It lets me feel melancholy and enraged and contented and all the raw emotions surrounding it. So, if you caught me on a bad day and got caught in the crossfire, I sincerely apologize to you. It wasn't personal-just an extension of my already afflicted disposition.

I'm so glad I have the support of my family...Joan, Munchkin, my Bug,  my dad, Bobo...the band(more in a future post). They are there for almost every step of my trials.

The beauty of clarity is you see and hear things in a whole new way. Last night, I sat on my front steps for an hour and watched the sky dance with lightning that looked like the landing of the saucer in CE3K. Very cool! Tonight, I just vegged out, watched TV and wrote this blog. I see the ridiculous behavior of the media and thank God I never followed that profession. I get angry at the way politicians feather their nest and line their pockets and try to work their way into your bedroom life. I bubble with glee at the way people think they can charm their way through life, knowing they'll end up bankrupt and desolate. Weeks ago, all of that would have washed over me and through me.

Today, I stop, dwell and process.

The round about way with all of this is that I rediscovered Marillions FUGAZI. Always my least favorite albums of the Fish era, I now know it was because I didn't grasp it. Its a dark, foreboding piece of work, which is bitter in content and context. I never understood it fully before now. Today, I wade through the lyrics and thoroughly embrace them. It's a masterpiece of sorrow and I'm sorry it took me two decades to ultimately recognize it.

So for now: I'm the Harlequin who wears the mask of a clown but carries the burden of responsibility in his pocket.

And this world, it IS totally fugazi!


I write this blog as a way of trying to make the feelings of anxiety slither back down the recesses of my mind. It's a daily battle and somedays I win and somedays the fear wins. My weekends  always used to be stressful as  I usually had a video to shoot. You can be 100% perfect and have an equipment problem and then you slowly watch your life and career slide into the loo. Always, especially AFTER the surgery, made it tough to get your head in the game if you afraid before you get on the field.

One of the things I have now discovered, as I continue to battle the demons within my mind, is that nothing in this world matters more than friends and family. Money, power, fame-its all BS in the scope of things unless youve got a raging hardon for having a huge obit youll never see and nice words on a tomb that youll also never see. Its nice to have delusions of it all, but when all is said and done, you can be like Cerebus-dying alone and unloved. Money is great and I'd be DVD-less without it. But money will not buy me a continued place on this earth. Ask Charles Foster Kane.

No-it is the love of family and friends which I find solace in. My wife and daughters fill the voids and even if I have to get up early to see them before theyre off to school, sacrificing much needed sleep, I do so because I just want to hold them and hear their voices. I relish in being with them: quiet moments with my wife and watching hours of movies and TV with the Munchkin and the Bug. Less lately as the Munchkin grows up and spends more time online and on the phone with her friends. My dad fills another gap. Part of my therapy is dealing with this separation anxiety thing.

But it is a double-edged sword for I have discovered that much of my dread comes from events which has surrounded my family. That and Wednesdays. I loathe Wednesdays. This hump day is when I have my worst attacks. And they coincide, if I dig deep enough, with major events in my life. I had surgery on Wednesday. I lost my GiGi on a Wednesday. Made my Moms funeral arrangements on a Wednesday. Bobo vacated The Cottage on a Wednesday. I learned that the son I wanted so badly would not get a chance at life on a Wednesday. So Wednesdays have become Pluto on my mental calendars. What the hell-it got downgraded and desperately needed a place to go!

To augment them, I have my friends. Mike and Ann are family in every sense of the word except for blood relations. but they now have two children of their own and we haven't seen each other in several months.Same with Russ, Gail and Sean. Fun to be with, laugh with and just be dopey with! But they have been hard at work earning a living and working on a movie which is now getting ready for general release. FOOTPRINTS-go see it! My co-workers are few and far between on the "tight" list. They know who they are as they are.

It's a bizarre life I live now: beating away the demons and trying to take comfort in each day. This page is therapy too. Its an open book if I let it. With that in mind, I always recall where to step to avoid the minefields. And still dwelling on the little things in life that make me shake my head and laugh. 


Life can tend to throw you curveballs, sometimes you hit them, and sometimes you let them slide past. I finished this blog with the story of a curveball that became a change-up and, while it did not become a Grand Slam, became a hit unlike any other.

Back in early April of 2008, an incident at work led to an honest to goodness shot at a promotion. I had turned down and avoided most promotion since a life changing blackballing at the hands of a project manager. I do not take it personal-the project manager pretty much blackballed everyone involved with the project.

However, it took the taste for promotion out of my mouth. Nevertheless, in April of 2008, I allowed myself to be courted by all the things I tried to avoid and took my shot at and was awarded a lucrative promotion. Prestige, money and power: that is what it's all about.

However, I quickly learned that, as Peter Parker would tell you, with great power comes great responsibility. I quickly found myself working 6 days a week and putting in no less than 50 hours a week. In a salaried position, mind you.

Cue to the phone call from our new Social Worker on the day my wonderful wife was preparing to take her final exam to receive her Master's Degree in Education. Before that day was out, she had passed her exam and we had a brand new baby girl in our life, hence referred to as 'The Bug'. Put an infant into you life with 5 hours notice and see how your priorities change.

Over the next week, the joys of that new life became conflicted with the stress of the job and the two came to a head in an ugly fashion. I found myself putting in increasingly more time and energy at work and found myself waking at odd hours in the middle of the night, not because of the cries of an infant but because of the panic setting in within my mind. As 'Bobo' put it during a visit during that period: "We didn't laugh during this trip. We always laugh a lot when we're together." It was one long day after another.

It got so bad that I was actively pursuing employment elsewhere. I was truly ready to take three decades of employment in one company and do the change of career thing as quickly as I could. I didn't care if it meant a part-time job or a major pay decrease. I needed to get out from under the pressure as soon as I could. Let's put it this way: I was so desperate to get out that I was looking at ways to get me out permanently. It was so bad that my therapist gave me a week to get out or he would have me committed.

It all came to a head on a Wednesday approximately 6 weeks after I began the new job. I called my corporate Human Resources and told them that I was a long time employee who had been diagnosed with a Bi-Polar Condition and Panic Disorder and I feared I was suffering from the beginning of a nervous breakdown. Their advice, what little they could offer, was to step down from the position or seek medical leave. Medical Leave would normally have been a wonderful thing: get out of the job and do whatever I had to do to get my head together-with some sort of a paycheck attached. But that option would not play well with the folks at Social Services who had just placed a child in our care.

So after a lengthy discussion with my boss, who was as understanding as one could be, it was decided to allow me to step down, with a pay decrease and go elsewhere within the firm. No managerial responsibilities, for the first time in nearly 20 years. I would just be a regular guy.

So it was. I stepped out of management and became a regular time card associate working like a dog with the rest of the pack. No alarm calls at night. No early openings. No dealing with angry clients. Go in, do what I was told and when the end of my eight hours were through, go home.

One month later, I was moved again to my current position. I found myself a little more visible to the client, but was still working like a regular guy with regular responsibilities. I still have not gotten all of the blackness out of my soul, but I am working at it. I have fun with my life.
 
And I have been able to watching my infant daughter become something more of a real personality. Three and a half years later and I still manage to enjoy life and, at my age, realize that I won't live forever and it is important that I enjoy those moments and not be chasing the almighty dollar. By accepting that high profile position, I allowed myself to believe that it would be less stressful, that I could enjoy a good work/life balance and that the money and the power were the end goal. In actuality, I discovered something I already new: this is my job and this pays the mortgage. It is not a career to me. My family is my career and everything I do should revolve around them above anything else.

Bottom line: all of us need to do what feels right in their lives. Sometimes the money carrot makes us feel good. Sometimes it doesn't. And I know I will be paying for this remodel to my home until the day they box me. However, that's okay. Because I know I can come home at the end of the day and be at peace with myself and enjoy this home and those within it.

With great power comes great responsibility. And with great responsibility comes great power. I draw my power from my life. My life is my family and my family is my life.

It all depends on how you see that curveball.

Until next time, thanks for reading!

Greetings and salutations

• This is an update from a previous post. I thought it was needed to welcome anyone who may have missed it the first time
  
  Greetings and thanks for being here. Thanks to my friend Brendan Tobin for introducing me to this wonderful spot. Up until today, it was blogging on MySpace...and we all know no one goes there anymore. 
  

  A quick introduction before moving onto something else. I'm middle aged, married to the same woman for 20 interesting years, with two daughters: a middle school student and a pre-schooler. We live in the same house since a little less than a year after we got married, though it has become larger in the last few years as we added a second floor almost four years ago, turning our modest ranch into a Colonial I'll be paying for until I am in my 80's. My wife teaches 5th grade and I toil in the world of retail, where I have resided for close to 35 years.I suffer from Bi-Polar 1 and suffer intense bouts of depression. I have been a writer, a videographer and a musician. I now video tape my family(mostly photograph...but still video tape every now and then), write for pleasure and play keyboards in the band Briar Rose. We have recently re;eased our newest CD. It's called DARK LORD and it's available all over the place or from us.I enjoy reading, especially comics, all types of music, and numerous films and television shows. From 1995 through 2000, I was the editor and publisher of a little fanzine called THE PODIUM: a grassroots publication dedicated to "comics and everything else". After being a monthly printed 'zine, it became a website until AOL shut down their Hometown pages in October of 2008. A great many reviews and interviews were published, some of which will eventually represented here, for posterity.

  
  

  I'll tell more in future blogs, but for now, I stop with that...mostly because my 4 year old is cuddling with me, making it almost impossible to write with two hand, while watching SUPER FRIENDS. Yes, she is my little superhero. So, for now, I represent an old MySpace blog that is still relevant now. It's about some of my favorite guilty pleasure films. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

   I got to enjoy a rare treat recently when, after many years of seeing it in truncated versions, mostly on television in the mid-Eighties, I got to buy and watch the legendary 1973 film WALKING TALL. For the uninitiated, the film, which can't be called a true biography but is loosely based on real events, tells the story of real life Sheriff Buford Pusser, a former professional wrestler who becomes sheriff of McNair County, Tennessee. Starring Joe Don Baker, this film, made for about $500,000 went on to great fame in the annals of grind house cinema because of its' violent nature and hero driven revenge angle. Heroes and villains alike get shot, stabbed, run down with cars, beaten with large sticks and even the family dog gets shot.
  
  
  
  And that's when I realized how much I truly love grind house films. And yes, this IS a grind house film, even though it found great success in mainstream theaters where audiences allegedly stood up and cheered at the end of the film. At least, that is what the movie ads claimed.
  
  Okay, so we all know Quentin Tarrantino and Robert Rodriguez embraced and popularized the genre in their PLANET TERROR/DEATH PROOF homage films, but what do you really know about grind house films? Named for the type of theaters that played them, typically they are Exploitation films, shot on shoestring budgets, featuring over the top depictions of sex, violence and gore. Within the grind house genre, there are sub-genres including kung fu, horror, sexploitation, blaxploitation, and spaghetti Westerns. They would play on triple or larger bills in rundown neighborhood theaters where you would take your life in your hands or, if you were lucky, drive-ins where you and your buddies could down a six or two, smoke some of mother nature and have a grand old time for $5 a carload.
  
  So I REALLY love grind house films and the list of my favorites could go on for pages. And my list tends to shift from true grind house to mainstream grind house with films like VANISHING POINT, JOE, EAT MY DUST and pretty much anything Claudia Jennings starred in such as TRUCK STOP WOMEN, MOONSHINE COUNTY EXPRESS(with Maureen McCormick) and THE GREAT TEXAS DYNAMITE CHASE.
  
   Growing up in the 70's, I was lucky enough to see some of my favorite films during their first or second release, usually at the drive-in where you could easily be hampered by really bad projection issues. Case in point, seeing SUPERVIVIENTES DE LOS ANDES(or SURVIVE, as it was released here in 1976) at the drive-in in 1976 because of the hype surrounding the gory cannibalism depicted in the film. Could have fooled me! The projected image was so dark that it was virtually unviewable. My friends and I spent most of the night trying to pick up the three scared girls in the car next to us.
  
  
  

  

  
  
  Anyway, if you didn't get to see the films, you heard about them in whispers among fans of the genre and from friends who may have gotten to see these legendary films. A perfect example was the buzz the surrounded SNUFF, a 1976 film which purportedly featured a real murder to climax the film. This became a legend among film fans, although it was banned in a number of cities because of the content, further fueling the legend. In actuality, this Roberta and Michael Findlay film, well known sleaze merchants of the Seventies for their 'Flesh trilogy', was about a series of Mansonesque murders. The film's final scene involving a cast member being dismembered and gutted live on-camera. This murder was actually a simulated murder shot much later than the rest of the film at the insistence of the film's distributor. But a fake Women Against Pornography protest and an article about snuff films in the New York Times helped fuel the fire and the mythic tradition.
  
  
  
  
  A great deal of my interest in grind house films were fostered by my old friend Mike Vraney at Something Weird Video. Back in the early Nineties, Mike started his business in Seattle by selling video tapes of lost exploitation films. He ended up cutting distribution deals with some of the legends in the business including Harry Novak, Doris Wishman, David F. Friedman, and Herschell Gordon Lewis. Back in the day, I was good for at least one order every two months to Mike.
  
  But, for now, here's a list, in alphabetical order, of some of my favorite grind house flicks. Some of these I was lucky enough to see on the big screen and others were so tough to come by that I had to wait for bootlegged VHS or ultimately DVD release.
  
  THE BIG DOLL HOUSE (1971) The first great 'women in prison' film. Stuck in a Philippine prison,  Pam Grier and a bunch of other female prisoners race cockroaches, fight in the mud, and deal with a crazy guard who tortures them all every night. When they finally escape, it's a jungle chase with guns galore. Inspired a virtual boatload of  imitators. It's got sex, violence, shower scenes, guns and some of the wildest dialogue ever. Other great flicks in the genre include 99 WOMEN(which actually came first), BIG BIRD CAGE, CAGED HEAT, CHAINED HEAT, WOMEN IN CAGES and REFORM SCHOOL GIRLS.
  
  
  
  BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA (1974) Sam Peckingpah's masterpiece of  violence and sleaze. It is a film that some critics have called the worst film ever made while others, including Roger Ebert, have said it's the "greatest film of all time". Warren Oates character gives up everything he has to collect a bounty that has been placed on the head of…you guessed it…Alfredo Garcia. Oates travels around the Mexcian countryside talking to the severed hit while trying to evade gay hitmen. Wow! This is a trip worth taking.
  
  

  

  
  
  CANNIBAL FEROX (1981). Released in the U.S. as LET THEM DIE SLOWLY, it's the story of a bunch of drug dealers who abuse the local natives until the natives turn the tables. Oh yeah, it's a gore-fest! A native has his eye dug out and is then castrated. One of the bad guys gets the top of his head sliced off so the natives can eat his brains. Piranha attack a wounded man. A girl is hung by her nipples. Genitals get sliced and diced and eaten!  A really gross little Italian import which, if you have the guts, should be watched with the following film.
  
  
  
  
  CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST (1980). Again, another one of those films thought to be reality instead of fiction. Filmed on location in the Amazon, the film is about four filmmakers who disappear in the jungle. A rescue mission is launched and the fun goes from there as an NYU professor finds the lost footage revealing the atrocities committed on natives and filmmakers alike. Filled with graphic gore and violent sex, (like a fetus buried alive in the mud and a native woman impaled on a stake), it also features the real killing of some real animals, which sends most film freaks and animal rights activists up the wall. It was banned in Italy upon its' initial release and director Ruggero Deodato, was arrested and accused of making a snuff film until he produced the very much alive actors. Truly a repulsive film which, albeit minus the gore in this one, heavily influenced films such as THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT and CLOVERFIELD.
  
  
  

  

   THE CHEERLEADERS (1973) This film, along with a lot of teenage girls get naked for a good cause films,  was a staple of Seventies drive-in trips and inspired films as diverse as PORKY'S and MALLRATS. The team tries to help get Jeannie laid and themselves as well. Unfortunately they wear out the football team before the big game and are forced to do the same to the opposing team. Everyone has sex in this film. One girls has sex with the head coach. Another in a car going through a car wash. There's a great bit on a school bus scored to a Mexicali beat while there are also encounters on an exercise bike, in the school showers an a toe job of epic proportions. Originally rated X upon its' initial release, this film has been run in more cut and uncut versions than you can imagine. It was followed up by THE SWINGING CHEERLEADERS and REVENGE OF THE CHEERLEADERS. All three typify the genre. 
  
  
  
  THE CORPSE GRINDERS (1972). This gem ran for years on a triple bill with THE EMBALMER (1965) and THE UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS (1966). Well, the owners of  the Lotus Cat Food Company run out of money and start digging up the dead and killing folks to grind them into cat food. However the cats who eat it turn on their masters and eat them! It's a Ted V. Mikels masterpiece populated with gore, gratuitous nudity and some of the ugliest people committed to film. Not really scary, not really titilating. Just plain weird.
  
  
  
  DEADLY WEAPONS (1970) Doris Wishman was one of the true pioneers in the realm of sexploitation films. Not as disturbing as LET ME DIE A WOMAN, this gem had large newspaper ads and postcards mailed to unsuspecting homeowners that featured star Chesty Morgan displaying her rather inhuman bust (73-32-36). Large breasted stripper takes revenge on the mobsters who kill her boyfriend with the only weapons she has. Yes, she smothers them to death. Morgan also starred in Wishman's secret agent film DOUBLE AGENT 73.
  
  
  
  
  FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE (1977) Here is a film that set race relations back a about 100 years! A redneck (William Sanderson of DEADWOOD and NEWHART fame) breaks out of jail with his Asian and Mexican buddies and holes up at a black minister's house. The minister's daughter gets raped, a baby gets terrorized and a child gets murdered. Some of the most racist dialogue to ever grace a movie, you get hard-edged softcore sex, a lynching and some high end violence. Another film you'll want to take a bath after viewing.
  
  
  
  FLAVIA THE HERETIC (1974) This is one of those films you often heard about but never got the chance to see. Luckily, it has finally been released on DVD. It's 'nusploitation in the 17th century. Our heroine gets imprisoned in a monastery where she witnesses rape and torture. She falls in love with a Muslim invader and begins to question her faith. This film is loaded with atrocities including loads of lesbianism, impaling, nipple slicing and a legendary skinning scene. Nudity abounds along with a drug-induced hallucination inside a the carcass of a cow.
  
  
  
  
  

  

  FLESH FOR FRANKENSTEIN (1973) and BLOOD FOR DRACULA (1974). This gem from the Andy Warhol school of film making was released in 3D and featured some of the most gut wrenching, eye popping of visuals. Udo Kier chews scenery as the mad doctor and also has sex with a potential bride of the monster while fondling her innards. If you watch this, you have to watch DRACULA as part of the same bill. Funnier that FRANKENSTEIN, as Dracula most drink 'wirgin' blood. Anything less will make him violently ill. So the handyman(Joe Dallesandro with a very prominent Brooklyn accent) runs around trying to deflower the 'wirgins' before old Drac can get to them. Truly the funniest vampire spoof ever made!
  
  I DRINK YOUR BLOOD (1971) This film spent years paired with the inferior zombie film I EAT YOUR SKIN. A group of hippie Satanists take residence in a town and torment the citizens. A little kid decides to inject rabies into the meat pies the hippies eat and the next thing you know, is they begin foaming at the mouth and the bloody fun begins. Beheadings, impalings, cannibalism and other barbaric deeds run wild amongst the hippies and the now infected towns people. A charming, badly acted slice of drive-in Americana.
  
  ILSA, SHE WOLF OF THE SS (1975) What more could you ask for: crazy lady Nazi who conducts sadistic experiments to prove that women were more capable of enduring pain than men. Dyanne Thorne whips them, puts them in pressure chambers, gives them infectious diseases, burns them and commits so many atrocities you'll wince with pain and pleasure. Oh yeah: it was shot on the same sets as HOGAN'S HEROES. And don't miss the three sequels: ILSA, HAREM KEEPER OF THE OIL SHIEKS, ILSA, TIGRESS OF SIBERIA  and ILSA, THE WICKED WARDEN
  
  
  
  I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE (1978). Also known as DAY OF THE WOMAN, this wonderful piece of  trash cinema tells the tale of a woman who is attacked and raped by a group of men. And when all is said and done, she gets her revenge by using all manner of implements. Roger Ebert called this film "a vile bag of garbage". Yeah, it pretty much is all of that and a bag of peanuts.
  
  LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972). First film directed by horror meister Wes Craven and produced by future FRIDAY THE 13TH main man Sean Cunningham, this film will make you want to take a bath when you're through. One of the most intense films I have ever seen., Two teenage girls get kidnapped, raped and eventually murdered by a group of psychopaths. Here's a twist: they take refuge at the house of one of the girls' and when the parents find out what has happen, it's a sudden revenge in the bloodiest of manners including oral castration of one of the crazies. A totally depressing film, it was violent for 1972 and still manages to freak out today.
  
  

  

  LINDA LOVELACE FOR PRESIDENT (1975) Not a true grind house film, but one featuring one of the most legendary adult stars. Falling after DEEP THROAT and before she became a strong advocate against pornography, this film documents the actress' fictional running in the 1976 presidential race. So she woes and beds middle America in an effort to reunite the country. It's T&A  meets THE MONKEES as bad jokes are thrown around with naked bodies. And don't forget the jive talking, hillbilly chimpanzee
  
  MARK OF THE DEVIL (1970). The first U.S. film where they distributed "stomach distress bags" when you went into the theater in case you were sickened by the blood and guts. And it was rated V for violence. To make its' success even more assured, it was paired on a drive-in bill with LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT. Set in Austria in the 1700's, it's a softcore bloody period film about witch hunting. Well, that means victims burned at the stake, pricked in the face or stomach, stretched on a rack, drowned and branded. Not to mention the most famous scene where Gaby Fuch's tongue is torn out! Throw in some well placed sex and general nudity and you've got a winner.
  
  

  

  RETURN OF THE FIVE DEADLY VENOMS (1978) This film is also known as CRIPPLED AVENGERS, MORTAL COMBAT and CAN QUE. If you're going to watch a kung fu film, it should have been made by the Shaw Brothers studios. It was this film which led to the Shaws greatest success and the years 1979 to 1983 led to numerous Venoms sequels of sorts like KID WITH THE GOLDEN ARM, SUPER NINJAS, and KILLER ARMY. Four heroes with disabilities fight the evil Hai Chen who is armed with special steel claws and is actually responsible for their disabilities. The heroes band together to overcome their shortcomings and take on the villain.  A beautiful film to look at, it is filled with quality acting, stylish action and some silly humor. Although coming much later than many of the alleged kung fu classics, this is the benchmark that all Hong Kong action films tried to attain.
  
  

  

  UNHOLY ROLLERS (1973) What probably began life as a low budget version of KANSAS CITY BOMBER took on a life of its' own as the definitive Roller Derby movie. . . not that there is a genre for that! Claudia Jennings quits her job at the cat food factory and becomes the star of a roller derby team. It's a rags to riches to rags story that doesn't take a lot of grey matter to get through. Jennings and the other actresses look the part and it's dumb fun. Go search for some of the handful of Jennings films mentioned earlier and have yourself a Claudia selazefest!
  
  

  

  ZOMBIE (1979) This Lucio Fulci classic was released in the U.S. as DAWN OF THE DEAD 2 and the only thing it has in common with the Romero classic is the title and a bunch of hungry zombies. Zombies come to New York. Well, that's the basic plot. The gore factor is off the charts, there is a great shark vs. zombie underwater battle, lots of gore, death and destruction and, did I mention there's a lot of gore? A typical living dead movie that just ratchets the gross out meter to 10.