Table of Contents
RKYV # 44 {Feb. 2011}
RKYV ONLINE LOGO –
David Marshall {current}
r. j. paré {modified}
Roy G. James {original}
Virtual Cover # 44
- Art by Eric Adams
- Design/Layout by David Marshall
Interior Art
- By r. j. paré, Mike Grattan, James
‘Jig-One’ Titman, Roger Price, Roy G.
James, Russell Ashley, De Tourist,
Amber Blair, Marc Olivent, Mal Earl,
Eric Adams.
Editorial Column
- “At the Outset: A Few Thoughts
from the Editor”
- By r. j. paré
Indie Comic
World View - “Different Unlike Us - The New
- “A Canadian Living in the USA” Girl”
- By Tom Rossini - by Darke Raven, Art by Geraldo
Gonzalez, Lettering by r. j. paré
Syndicated Comic Strip Review
- “Bob and Doug McKenzie - the Poetry
Comic Strip” - By Wanda VanHoy Smith, Stephen
- By Nik Poliwko & Tom Nesbitt Campbell, Tindersen Blacktree
Hoopdriver, r. j. paré
Featured Artist Review
- “Eric Adams” Pop Culture
- By r. j. paré - “Digital Scribbles,” “O.E.L.ove” &
“Manga Maximus”
Short Fiction - By Darke Raven
- “On a bicycle built for three – Part
1” - “The Director’s Chair”
- by R. Patrick James - By r. j. paré
- “Grimoire – Act Two”
- by Scott Claringbold - “Raised on Saturday Morning
- “The Cold Call” Cartoons”
- by Mal Earl - By Pauline Paré
Good to see you! – by De Tourist
 At the Outset:
A few thoughts
from the Editor…
by r. j. paré
"It was a very dark night, it was a very dark night
and it didn't seem real
and all the glory hounds they were going down
on the worn out Man of Steel.

And the dime store pawns with their magic wands

were going on and on and on...
With Killing the Icons."

--- Kris Marentette & David Marshall

The Killing
Of a
Comics Icon…

On January 24, 2011, Rich Johnston of the website www.BleedingCool.com broke the story that
Wizard: The Magazine of Comics, Entertainment & Pop Culture had fired its entire staff
and would cease publication immediately. Reaction across the blog-o-sphere was quick to judge.
The internet has always been a bastion of trolls ready to kick a body when it’s down. I am not
going to criticize Wizard. I think there were a great many folks who, for years, got their
information on comics and comic related entertainment info from the pages of Wizard. I for one
will miss the ‘zine… Especially the way it was a few years back when it concentrated more on
fan-boy humour and took itself a little less seriously.

From the extensive letters column, irreverently answered with satirical wit… to the zany
features coming up with “dream” casts for comic movies – to the absurd nerd-gasms of “what if”
battles between comic characters. Wizard, at its best, was like an extended conversation with
your fellow geeks – where no one would judge you for reciting Star Trek quotes or standing in
line for hours, to see the latest Bat-flick on opening night.
Starting this issue, in honour of Wizard’s passing, RKYV will begin to show off our pop culture
coverage a little more by tweaking our format a smidge. Instead of lumping all of our pop culture
coverage into one section at the back of the ‘zine, we’ll be interspersing various articles, under
the general heading “Pop Culture Wizards of RKYV” throughout the mag. Hope you enjoy!

Please remember to post comments, suggestions & critique on our blog: www.rkyv.blogspot.com

I hope you enjoy Eric Adams amazing work, which he has graciously shared with us, in the
Featured Artist of the Month column. His interview was engaging – with some insights that
may be quite useful for other aspiring comic creators.

Regular Columnists Tom Rossini, Darke Raven and Pauline Paré once again share their
opinions in varying thoughtful, witty and revealing fashions. As well, returning poets Wanda
VanHoy Smith, Stephen Campbell & yours truly – r. j. paré – provide new collections of
imagery & verse for you to [hopefully] enjoy.
Sweet comic Valentine
More thanks than I can adequately express, of You make me smile with my heart
course, to the talented artists [credited Your looks are laughable, unphotographable
throughout this edition] who have shared their Yet you're my favorite work of art
wonderful creations with us. Without their -- Frank Sinatra [written by
contributions RKYV, this e-Zine would Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart]
indeed be a shabby thing to behold.

Until next month I wish all of you…

A Happy Valentine’s Day.

r. j. paré

Editor’s Note: After reading the lyrics to

Sinatra’s “My Funny Valentine” – I don’t
recommend requesting that song for your
lady love, in this day and age… It doesn’t
really sound like he’s complimenting her
– I swear, the man sounds like he’s
crooning about how fortunate she is to be
with HIM?? {As though he is way out of
her league, in the looks department} I
don’t know if that passed for romance,
back in the day, but it would certainly get
this editor a swat in the head if he tried it
on his wife! 

 Read this month’s Syndicated Comic

Review for more of “Bob and Doug
McKenzie - the Comic Strip”
– by Nik Poliwko & Tom Nesbitt
When Good Ideas Go Bad – by Stephen Gibb
Digital Scribbles
by Darke Raven

This Month's Experiment:

Vote 4 Review
DC Comics Edition

 Let's see... manga? Yes.

 OELManga [the genre formally known as AmeriManga]?
 Check... now... digital comics? OK, can do.

Ground rules down first. Since my most reliable piece of technology, right now, is this PSP here –
I'll be hitting the Playstation Network comic racks for a lot of reviews (but if you have a
suggestion something digital to review please send it to RKYV's Editors for review, thanks). This
month is the first of a fairly common practice I'd like to do if possible, interactive reviews (vote
for the digital comic you want reviewed, more on that shortly).

Otherwise the reviews will be as usual, so without further ado let's crack open some free sample
stuff and get you voting.

The explanation of voting: I'll overview four review samples a voting cycle. You just take yourself
to www.RKYVrevue.blogspot.com and vote. The top go getter will be given a full out review,
simple as that. This month we're looking at the following...

From DC Comics digital offerings we're pre-reviewing the following, which you'll vote for... and
yes, this month's selection has ZERO super hero content.
 Lamorte Sisters #1
DC Comics
By Christine Larsen (Artist) and Johnny Zito and Tony
Trovarello (Author). Published January 19th 2011

Suddenly I fear the Religious Right even more than usual.

Maddie's screwed. While out on a family trip (which we only see

the fatal end to) her mom and dad are murdered by a checkered
shirted wandering vampire (in that whole vampire zombie
undead thing and not the sophisticated vampire like in Dracula
and Castlevania and the like), only to end up being bitten and
abducted by a crazy religious right church school prison where
they lock away girls inflicted with vampirism (going so far as to
lock them away in boarding school room slash cells), call them
evil (call thyself evil you freaky religious types) and set out to
brainwash them in order to (chuckle, chuckle) "save" them...
hmmm... yeah, right... now I'm even more creeped out by the
religious right now. Stop it, you disturb me.

Melody #1
DC Comics
By Ilias Kyriazis (Author/Artist)
Published January 6th 2008

Got a song you can't get out of your head? This

girl has a song everyone else wants to pry out of
her head... even if it kills her. Melody worked for
this former famous musician dude as his
assistant, until the day she reported in for work
while he was summoning a muse to sell his soul
to gain the greatest song of all time.

She ends up flaking out when Melody walks in mid transfer of the song, cancels the deal (leaving
him only the song and no lyrics) and... oh yeah... kills him. Nice. But before he dies he gives the
song to Melody, and paints a large target upon her back as she is suddenly targeted by the
Vatican (who wants to make a song to praise god... and you know, hook new followers), a major
ad agency (who wants to have the ultimate jingle to sell whatever) and a politician (who wants it
to help him to be elected into something, possibly President of the United States... and wait a
minute, since this all happened in the privacy of his home how the heck did they all find out
about this barely a page after he dies, before his inked drawn fictional body even has a chance to
dry let alone grow cold! Come on!!

By the end of the preview Melody is truly royally screwed as she is being chased non stop by
crazy religious types, greedy corporate types, and evil politicians and their lackeys... help!!
 Road #1
DC Comics
By Eddie Sharam (Author/Artist). Published Oct. 13th 2010

Felix is a pilgrim of the Road... and by pilgrim I mean the

former member of a group of crazies who are migrating down
the Road until he decides he rather take the trip solo, a
definite no-no amongst his former brothers who now are out to
kill him (and everyone he comes into contact with) since not
one single person should have the secret of what is at the
road... what?

Well it seems this Road in question is an infinite road that stretches across the landscape forever
and ever, never once looping or coming about but just one long endless road. These Pilgrims, who
are obsessed with the Road to the point that their mantra is never to stray from said road, travel
down a dysfunctional world... a cyberpunk mad max meets blade runner cyber technology world
of A.I.s and satellites and... what? Why don't they just use their technology to scan their world to
discover WHERE the road originates?!? Yeah... this world is just littered with those kinds of
inconsistencies and it’s best not to think over, saddled with a quest that is about as un-engaging
as any could be... the quest to... go down a road, until you reach origin point... a "secret" so
profound no one person should know the truth of the origin of the road, even if the people who
are rambling on about it... want to kill everyone who tries it... being the only persons who'll...
know the secret... of a road... right. Got all that? Good. Now explain it to me, please.

If the title was original I could actually clap and say "hooray, it's something fresh and new and
different"... but it's not. Wandering the road kinda like Bruce Banner (Bill Bixby) and being
drawn into the problems of the people he keeps running into along the road no doubt (if this
preview is any indication), he is relentlessly pursued by his former brothers (including a living
skeleton-person / assassin) all for a secret that really isn't that much of a secret since, well, you'll
ALL find out what's at the end (slash beginning) of the road if you keep following it! No big
whoop here! Come on! Really?!? Man!!

Puppet Makers
Because really, cyberpunk was almost dead and forgotten
and really, why would we have wanted THAT... gee, thanks,
DC, thanks a lot.

Welcome to 1678 France: An alternate reality where

clockwork robots and even stranger clockwork "doll" bodies
are all the rage. The aristocrats proving their dislike of being
common in this world have taken up the fad of wearing
rather complex looking mechanical suits made up to look like
French dolls called, simply enough, DOLLY suits.
As this story opens one night someone has broken into the imperial palace during a major party
and stolen the king from his DOLLY suit, making for a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes
himself... but he's too busy fighting the undead in another series for Wildstorm so instead a
priest is ultimately chosen to look for the king... however this preview only gets the story going,
he doesn't actually start the hunt until you get the actual first issue... and yes, more creepy
religious content again with book burning and the like... bad people! No book burning!

Wow. This month's theme is scary religious types throughout all four picks. I'm creeped out.
Anyway please vote. I'll announce the winner of the voting next month and arrange its full
review. Next month we'll also do a [second] full review, as we catch up with Holmes and Watson
as they battle the undead in Victorian Undead from Wildstorm. See you then!

BTW, don't forget: http://RKYVRevue.blogspot.com Go and vote now!

Voting ends on the 20th of this month! See you!

Tat Art & Designs by Roger Price

Fallen Angel Dead Cowboy 

Should you like to know more [or perhaps even have

Roger lay some ink down on ya] you can e-mail
Roger: moleman00x@hotmail.com or…

Follow him on facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=629478508
Mona Envy – by Stephen Gibb
 World View
A Canadian,
Living in the USA
by Tom Rossini

An End of an Era....
I was sitting at home tonight alone... the kids were gone and well there was
nothing on TV or "On Demand". So I decided to look in the ole cabinet, at the
plethora of movies we have purchased over the years. I started to dig through
them all, about 250 or so, and didn’t find anything really that interesting and
therefore headed back to the TV to play some Wii. I opened the cabinet below
the TV and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a collection of old
VCR tapes. Wow... what a trip down memory lane. Now, the point here isn’t
what I ended up watching but rather a look back at technology.

I remember the days when I was going to high school and we had to
get on the school bus at a small gas station / convenience store called
"Paddy's" on a shelf above the chest of frozen ice cream were binders of
movies and a special red one for those over 18 only. Renting a movie
back then cost 99 cents from Sun - Thurs and 2.99 on Fri and Sat. I
remember getting off the bus after school and heading inside to rent a
movie for the night. I’d buy an orange Fanta Soda and a bag of Hickory
Sticks and sit back and watch “16 Candles”.... hey Molly Ringwald was
hot back then :)

Today we now have DVD, Blue Ray and can even watch movies on
something called the internet. Local DVD rental stores have closed
down and I am sad. I miss the days when I could rent films on good old
fashioned videotape. OK, I will admit that becoming a Blockbuster,
Family Video, etc, member was a long process. You had to show the 16-
year-old boy in the shop your driving license and your birth certificate
and then you had to drive to the shop and back again as soon as Bruce
Willis had said “yippe-ki-yay, motherf****r”.
However, when you watch a VCR tape it is much, much quicker than the alternative we have
today… the DVD. The best part with the VCR was that you could sit back press the FF button
and skip through all the bull-crap at the beginning [and then back up a bit, because you’d gone
too far, to the actual start of the film]. Try this with a DVD, you get a little message on the
screen telling you that the operation you have requested is not possible or you get a hand with a
red circle around it and a red line through it.

Ah the good ole days... but these days, before the actual
movie starts you have to sit through what seems like hours of
warnings, previews of upcoming attractions, film rating
information and how the views expressed therein may not be
in accordance with those of the distributor. Then you are told
who the producers are because these days every single film
seems to be produced by several people including the star’s
wife, who gets a credit too, along with all the people she
approached for money.

Couple all this to the time your machine takes to decide whether the disc is in the correct format
and was bought in the right region, and the time taken from you turning the player on to the
start of the film is about 10 hours. The funny but sad part is that some films are made in less
time than it takes them to start.

Oh and if you decide to show that movie to anyone other than

your immediate family the FBI, Secret Service and ATF will raid
your house throw you in jail and your new name will become
BIATCH by the next morning.

YES, YES, YES I KNOW you can download movies. But I'll be
damned if I am going to try and figure that out. Let’s see what I
have right now hooked up to my TV: DVD, VCR, Cable modem,
Wii and surround sound ... I just don't have enough plugs to hook
up a media player [even though I do have wireless internet] all of
my inputs are taken and to be honest, I don't really give a damn. I
want my MTV and VCR.

Editor’s Note: Tom should know that “I want my

MTV” was recently banned in Canada, much to
Mark Knopfler and millions of Dire Straights
fans’ chagrin. The CRTC claims they are shocked
by the lyrics. For some reason they notice this 25
years after the iconic song has become a part of
our musical landscape… guess they were too busy
counting their public pay cheques all this time..:)

As far as obsolete tech goes, I really dug 8-Track

back in the 70’s…
Culmination of Life Experience Reduced to a Metaphysics of Evolution and Art
– by Stephen Gibb
Featured Artist Review
Eric Adams
by r. j. paré

Bio: Eric Adams

Eric Adams is best known as the creator and self-publisher of
LACKLUSTER WORLD, a satire about a man with albinism
fending off his fanatically religious siblings while using vandalism
and his journalism career to change the world before it changes him.
It has been nominated for the 2004 Howard E Day Prize, the 2008
S.P.A.C.E. Prize and won the 2010 Champion City award for Best
Limited Series.

He is also the writer of REFLECTION, a 2009 S.P.A.C.E. Prize winner; the artist of STUART, which
ran in NEGATIVE BURN; and a contributor to Newsarama.com, writing SEQUENTIAL SMARTS, a
thorough series of articles about the business and marketing comics from the self-publisher perspective.

Check out Eric and his work at www.ericadams.net and www.lacklusterworld.com

r.j.p: Have you always known that you wanted to be or, rather, were an artist?

EA: Yes. I made my first piece of art when I was 4 years old. I had a bunch of tiny plastic dinosaur toys
and was suddenly inspired to draw them together in a scene one day. I remember studying each plastic
dinosaur cautiously and drawing a few crayon lines on the paper, then studying harshly again and
drawing the next few lines, and so on until it was done. It felt like days went by making that thing. It's in
pretty rough shape today, but I still have it. I think I'm pretty lucky to be able to say that. Most 30 and 40
year olds I know are still trying to decide what they want to do or be.

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Sketchcard
Triptych -
Zombie
Astronauts”

r.j.p: Did you

study or
major in art while in school?

EA: I have a two-year degree in graphic design, but I think it's a stretch to say I studied or majored in
anything. It's more like I paid two year's outlandishly priced rent to have a place to practice for 6 hours a
day. Granted, those 6 hours a day did help me learn a lot.

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
# 5, page 1

r.j.p: When you open an issue of Lackluster

World the first thing you notice is the way Eric
deftly establishes the scene. With a Capra-
esque ability to create mood Mr. Adams draws
us in with cinematic pace to his story-telling.

r.j.p: Who was your primary source of

encouragement, as a child, in pursuing art?

EA: Everyone and no one. I was given free reign to

draw and write as a pleased, but I can't say anyone
did me any huge favors either. I think I was
motivated by default.

r.j.p: What is your favorite media to work

with?

EA: For the past few years it's been markers, specifically grayscale markers. Anyone who's read my comic
book series, LACKLUSTER WORLD, knows my love of grayscale markers. I prefer a sturdy drawing
instrument as opposed to a gentle one like a brush. Also, markers go on lush and gritty. I feel like I can
make them pop more than anything else I work with.

That said, I would rather work with words than pictures. I am an artist/illustrator, but I personally get
more personal gratification out of writing.

r.j.p: Do you use any special tools and techniques to create your art?
EA: I feel like I'm always experimenting with different ways to get to the finish line. With comics, I obsess
over thumbnails and layouts before I start the final artwork until I feel like it will be perfect. If I get
stuck on a page, I'll just start drawing it with little to no plan and build it in layers using tracing paper.

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
# 5, page 2

r.j.p: What inspires you to create art?

EA: You make it sound so nice. I'm not so much

inspired to create art as I'm infected with it. I
feel like I'm wasting my life if I'm not creating.
I have a cold, existential view on the meaning
of life, which essentially means that it means
nothing. You die and worms eat you. I create
art in the hopes that I do something a little
more memorable than be eaten by worms and
every moment I'm not doing something
productive is a moment I will never get back.

r.j.p: How would you categorize your

artistic style?

EA: I don't think I could accurately categorize

anyone's style, let alone my own, so let’s go
with ‘mostly harmless’.

r.j.p: Would you say that there is a "message" or "unifying theme" in your work?

EA: Somewhat. In everything I write or draw, I seem to orbit similar themes, which I’ve come to accept,
are my personal philosophies:

1.) If you don't like something, change it.

2.) Perception is unreliable.
3.) You are who YOU want to be, not who THEY want you to be.
 Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
# 5, page 3

r.j.p: Which famous artists / creators or

styles have influenced you? Why?

EA: Despite comics being my primary artistic

playground, I'm far more influenced by writers
and filmmakers than I am by traditional
illustrators. Specifically filmmakers Wes
Anderson, Sofia Coppola, Todd Solondz,
Christopher Nolan, Frank Capra and writers
Max Barry, Chuck Palahniuk. Also, two of the
most formative inspirations in my life were TV
shows I watched when I was young, AEON FLUX
and THE ADVENTURES OF PETE AND PETE.

r.j.p: Would you rather have an engaged &

loyal but, ultimately, small Indie readership
or work on the latest Spidey, Wolverine or X
- book? [The old Art vs Commerce question]

EA: I'm sure there are a handful of minor exceptions out there so I don't want to use the word 'never', but
I have no interest in working on anything that isn't my own original characters and story. I see most of
the big-name comics as grandiose fan art and fan fiction. Those stories were written decades, if not almost
a century ago.

As for a small, loyal readership, sure, I'll take it, but I would prefer a big, loyal readership.

r.j.p: With advancements in computer graphic tablet technology, some artists are now
creating their work directly in the digital medium and releasing it in purely digital formats...
are the days of paper & pulp doomed to the realm of fading memories?

EA: At best, I think humanity can only see the future of its technology and culture about 10 years out
maximum. I don't see hands-on art dying out within ten years. Beyond that... maybe.
 Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
# 5, page 4

r.j.p: What do you think of the term "starving

artist"? Specifically, does the struggle to pay
the bills; to be compensated for one's work;
influence what an artist will or won't pursue
based on perceived commercial value?

EA: The majority of starving artists are those that

lack marketing prowess or at least lack a
willingness to accept marketing. Personally, I feel
I've come to terms with it. If you make art intent
on others to enjoy it, then OF COURSE you have
to go commercial. You have to give people what
they want and chances are that what they want
and what you want aren’t exactly the same things.
You have to compromise. Blend art and
commercialism. Sacrifice what you can to make it
more marketable. Save what you can to slowly
bring people over to the art you want them to
experience. Over time, perhaps you can persuade
them to enjoy the same things you do.

r.j.p: Do you feel more a sense of community with other artists or a sense of competition?

EA: It is still a competition, albeit a friendly one. I've made some great friends in the comics industry. We
all want readers, but there are only so many readers to go around. All we can do is present our work as
best we can and allow the readers to decide what they like. It's a beauty pageant. Who is the most
beautiful? Who has the most depth? Who is the most talented? Who do you 'like'? Fortunately, this
analogy fails before anyone gets eliminated, or worse, fitted with a sash and tiara.

No one is keeping score.

r.j.p: How do you market yourself?

EA: I focus on branding and the perception of value.

LACKLUSTER WORLD has a dark, grey, almost gothic brand and I try to carry that through all aspects
of my marketing -- the books themselves, the website, my convention display, postcards, etc. Everything
has to maintain that look.

The perception of value is even more important. I always want my books to look like they are worth the
price tag. $5 isn't asking a whole lot, but if my book looks like it has a personal value of more than $5,
then that is an easy sell.

Marketing in the sense of a day-to-day awareness

campaign, however, is something I've kept a low
profile on. After the first three issues were released, it
became apparent that I could only complete one issue
of LACKLUSTER WORLD a year and that people had
a hard time staying excited about LW because they
had to wait a year for the next issue and X years for
the remainder of the books, I chose to maintain the
status quo rather than trying to build a big
anticipation machine. I've been hoarding my
marketing resources until I reach the end of the
series, which as I've already mentioned is now. I've
always seen the slow release of issues as a break-even
method of building an audience. The intended payoff
has always been selling the complete LW series in one
transaction allowing reader to take in the whole story
at once.

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
# 5, page 5

r.j.p: Do you find it difficult to stay motivated /

inspired?

EA: Mostly not. I often find it difficult to go to sleep at night because it's hard to turn my artbrain off. If,
however, I do get stuck, music always seems to help.

r.j.p: While traditional publishing and distribution has become a difficult goal to achieve for
the modern Indie comic creator, what do you think of the impact that social networks and
POD services have had as an alternate means of connecting you, your work and your
audience?

EA: Honestly, I think social networks give creators a false sense of importance. Social networks make it
very easy to fall into a mental trap of complacency based on the feedback received from insular groups of
friends and fans. The selling point of being more closely connected to your audience through social
networks is true, but that's only a sugar-coating to the true purposes of them: monetizing personal
relationships. Social networking services want for you to get a false sense of importance so that you
continue to use their services allowing them to harvest more information about you, your friends and the
emotional reasons why you and your friends buy things.

To be clear, I'm not saying that social networks should be avoided. Again, they really do allow you to be
more closely connected to your audience. You just have to be cautious.

POD is a great thing, but I admit I have never used it because of the printing quality. Back to the
question about community vs. competition, this is an area where I try very heavily to stay competitive.
POD books (or digital printing in general) just do not have the print quality of offset printing. In an
attempt to maintain a level of quality that's higher than most of the indie comics out there, I print all of
my books offset.

That said, the impact of POD books has caused a saturation of new material to be more easily available. I
may not use it, but I don't mind buying a POD product if I like the content.

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“No Gods – The Light”
[a pinup for Dustin Carson’s
Graphic Novel “No Gods”]

r.j.p: What other interests do you have, besides

art?

EA: I have loads of interests, but I feel they all come

back to art in some tangential way. Well, assuming
that "art" includes writing, illustration, filmmaking and
all the actual creation of something, then that leaves all
the things that inspire me to create things...

Science and skepticism, but most specifically physics. I

watch with bated breath for updates from CERN about
the findings at the Large Hadron Collider.

Pirate radio broadcasting and listening and no, I am

not a broadcaster. I stumbled upon the pirate radio
community by accident while researching a story idea
and have become obsessed with it. It's an eccentric
micro-culture of maybe 1,000 people in the USA at most
who are just plain fascinating character studies.
Advertising and marketing, or more to the point: Anti-
advertising and subvertising. I'm disgusted and fascinated with the methods used to manipulate people
into buying something they don't need or want. But, I love, love, love seeing advertisements altered to
expose those questionable methods.
 Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Reflection [cover]”
[pencils by Joanna Estep]

r.j.p: What advice would you have for a young

artist starting out today?

Read. Read until you hate reading. Then read some

more. Even if you're a visual artist, this still applies.
Inspiration comes from ideas and the best ideas come
from books.

No one can imbue you with the knowledge on how to do

it right. You have to give it your all, learn from your
failures, and do it better the next time.

Be resourceful. Don't make excuses for not being able to

do something. Figure out what you don't know, then
make all the effort you can to learn it. Eventually, you
will find that you can do just about anything with just a
little bit of research.

r.j.p: Do you have any big plans, shows or Cons coming up?

EA: Right on the horizon, LACKLUSTER WORLD #7 will be released at S.P.A.C.E. in Columbus, Ohio on
March 19 and 20, 2011. It's been seven years since I released LW #1, but I'm finally finishing the comic
book series with this issue. So, that's a pretty big thing for me.

I'll be setup at ten to twelve conventions in 2011 too. Much of the list is TBA, but so far I can confirm
S.P.A.C.E., Gem City Comic Con, Pittsburgh Comicon, Heroes Con, and Derby City Comic Con.

I plan to do a finite webcomic series (tentatively named JESUSLAND) once LW is complete. It's a spinoff
from LACKLUSTER WORLD and is my first attempt at publishing online. I'm looking to get my feet wet.

And after that... I haven't decided yet. I have several strong ideas for new graphic novels, but I don't know
which I'll do first.
 Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Reflection [cover]”
[pencils by
Joanna Estep]

r.j.p: How would you

like your art, and by
extension yourself, to
be remembered?

EA: I think I would be

happy just to be
remembered at all. And
preferably not for that one
thing I did that one time...

I’d like to thank Eric for participating this month as our “Featured Artist”. I encourage everyone, if they
haven’t read “Lackluster World” yet, what are you waiting for? LOL. You can purchase the entire 7 issue
limited series from Eric, in person, this March [19 & 20] in Columbus, Ohio at S.P.A.C.E. con.

For more info on Eric & his published works you con follow him online, via:

Links:
http://lacklusterworld.com/
http://ericadams.net/
http://twitter.com/ericadams
http://facebook.com/lacklusterworld

On the page following, check out a sneak peek at the cover to the Final Issue of Lackluster World:

Artist:
Eric Adams
Title:
“Lackluster World”
[# 7, Cover]
OELove
by Darke Raven
Disclaimer: I was going to do a Valentine's Day article... then I realized I actually don't like Valentine's
Day because it's a holiday for celebrating love and relationships and I am neither in love nor in a
relationship... so for those of us who are single, alone and bitter... I'm ignoring the holiday... tune in next
time when I snub other holidays of love like Easter and that day in Japan when you give the one you love
home made chocolates and other stuff like that... thankfully holidays of love are not frequent so we'll just
ignore Valentine's Day.

This Month's Experiment:

Kim Possible
CineManga Volume 1 to 2
[TOKYOPOP/Disney]
Based on the Disney Channel
Series of the same name (2003)

It should be about time, right? The 25th Anniversary... no, no, not of
Kim Possible, I mean about the 25th Anniversary or so of
CineManga. CineManga, aka Cinematic Manga, is the free wheeling
usage of footage from TV Series, Animations and the like to quickly
create "comic" content. When I first saw this art it was the early 90's
and it was VIZ doing CineMangas of Gundam.

This was years before Gundam became all the fad on American TV (and imported quite a bit for showing
here) and the Dirty Pair (from the 85' TV Series, which sadly never really took off here in America except
for hard core Otaku and Adam Warren fans) which was a bit low quality for the art-form, but it soon
carried on and began to gain momentum. Today CineManga is a legit branch of manga, even if not
everyone is into it. And I've seen quite a bit all around, TOKYOPOP's stuff (which is quite a bit,
converting Disney stuff into comics both live action and animation at least before its downturn a few
years ago... have to catch up and see if they're still doing it), VIZ (Miyazaki fans might want to check out
their Miyazaki line of CineMangas), and I even have a single issue of a Polish comic of Sailor Moon which
is CineManga style (taking content from the TV Series to make a comic, which of course is rather low
quality work but still it's there... and yes, in Polish.
 Kim Possible is a several year old show that was once, in
the vernacular of the series, “so the drama...” until it
ended and people moved on and forgot the series (which I
guess proves it is so not the drama since it has not
survived the harsh temper of time like iconic series like
Tenchi Muyo, Sailor Moon, Cowboy Bebop, Transformers,
and newer icons like Azumanga Daioh) but still it is
recommended off the bargain bin if you can snap it up.
Not a pocket emptier and if you were not a major fan of
the series or are now Kim Curious then I wouldn't
advocate you from, say, making a major out of pocket
invest in this but still... Well, if you can find it cheap, give
it a shot.

Kim Possible, a teenage super agent saving the world one job at a time, balancing that (with a
sledgehammer, spit and a lot of questionable luck) with a so called normal life as a high school girl slash
cheerleader with all the usual quirks of a girl her age (if I can even say that with a straight face) living a
life with her rocket scientist father, brain surgeon mother, strange sidekick friend with occasional
brilliance the odd Ron Stoppable... wow... this was popular? Hmm... anyway she has enemies like
Drakken, an Andorian blue guy who is, eh... well he has a hot assistant fem goon named Shego who is,
nehh.... really? And... is that an Orion green female who seems to trade fashion quips with Kim while
fighting her?!? Uh... I remember occasionally Ricardo Montalban (Khhhhhaaaaannnnn!!!!) showed up...
uh... (looks at titles again)... really?

First issue Drakken steals a large laser drill with intent to use it to cover the state of Wisconsin with
molten magma (while working out of a conveniently large cheese wheel no less) so he can take it over and
turn it into his own private version of Latveria... only without the coolness of Latveria... too bad Kim is
having problems since she's trying to save for a jacket only to end up working at the favorite local hang
out (a taco place) which is seemingly brainwashing Ron to turn to the nachos side of the force... second
story has Kim's life placed in jeopardy by an explosive carrying nanite tick that has taken residence on
her nose... hmm... yeah.

Volume 2 has Ron face his fears of monkeys (and Kim her dislike of her nerdy relative she spends game
night with every so often) as he must fight a weirdo trying to tap into the power of monkey martial arts...
nehh.... oh, and to wrap this up Drakken is kidnapping his old college friends (including Kim's dad)
because... well... he's still not over all the teasing from college... like Professor Snape being harassed by
Harry Potter's dad, only sillier.

Why am I flipping through this again... oh, right, I want to sell an idea to Disney about a cross
dimensional action adventure series akin to Quantum Leap meets Kamen Rider Decade... that's why I'm
looking at this! Duh!... otherwise good luck on this one... and by that I mean good luck if your Kim curious
and want to see more... a 2 out of 5... sheesh.

Next month we pull out the PSP and look at OEL manga online... we're checking out Ghostbusters the
Manga to be precise.

Then - April fool's day? The how the hell did this ever see the light of day moment as we review... wait for
it... Final Girl. The Horror comic where you try to figure out who'll be... THE FINAL GIRL... yeah, right.
My bad (ever reviewing this).

Happy Valentine's Day... if you’re in love, or married and in love, and all that... bye.
 Russell Ashley Art &
Tattoo Designs

Joker's Comedy and Tragedy Masks

Reepicheep (Narnia)

My full portfolio is at - www.russellashley.daportfolio.com

I am (always!) available for commission, my email address: plan.b.studios@hotmail.com

Cheers, Russ
Bjork – by James ‘Jig-One’ Titman
 Short Fiction
ON A BICYCLE BUILT FOR THREE
by R. Patrick James
- Part 1 -

It was a fog-enshrouded autumn morning on the city‘s west side. Even that couldn’t dampen
their enthusiasm. They, the three of them, peddled in a race with the receding haze to be first off
tee no.1. The mist thinned somewhat revealing a curious sight - three men, a father and his two
sons, with a golf bag slung over their respective shoulders, on a three-seater, triple-sprocketted
bicycle motoring toward the golf links down the gravel avenues of rural woodlots bordered by
steep, deep ditches.

Not yet the glorious anticipated day for Rex Jones, his brother, Daniel, and their aging father,
Rex, Sr... First off, they were a curious lot as they peddled their way about town on their bicycle
built for three. Secondly, because they fancied themselves as amateur sleuths chasing after
trouble, trouble often chased them. Let’s just say they had a propensity to attract attention.
And to the local cops they were more of a nuisance than any kind of an asset. Still they
persisted.

***

Rex, Jr., whom Dad only ever referred to as ‘Bud’, was a retired high school teacher who prided
himself on his deductive reasoning. Having taught at both elementary and secondary levels and
serving as a curriculum consultant for nearly half of his teaching career, he was widely known by
many and in many circles. He was himself a practicing artist. To top it all off, he was a self-
admitted bibliophile and damn proud of it. Often the pursuit of a criminal got waylaid because
he couldn’t resist turning in to a musty dusty used book store.

Daniel, or Danny as most of his buddies called him, was anything but an academic with little
interest in books, although he thoroughly enjoys local history and family genealogy. Yet, he
served as an irritant to Rex in his pursuit of paperback gems, often seen pacing back and forth
on the sidewalk outside of a book store partaking of his own hobby, that of girl watching -- what
he referred to as ‘oogling’, an art in and of itself. Danny is an automotive worker content to
punch the clock and forget about work until he had to punch back in. His claim to local fame
came as a notable athlete on the ball diamond, the hockey rink and the basketball court, always
ready and willing to duke it out with any and all challengers. His physical prowess was well
known and came in quite handy in a tight spot as they ran down any malefactors, or as the
punks and rogues attempted to run them down.
Dad Jones is an intense man who grew up in factories, educated in the school of hard knocks and
raised by his older brothers. But a shrewd, determined kind of man who refused to be swayed
from direction or destination, and took no bullshit along the way, from anyone - least of all his
sons. Yet while school-learning was never his forte, he was clever as all get out and could fix
almost anything with chewing gum, duct tape and baling wire. His garage barely had room for
his boat-like bronze ‘73 Pontiac, the studded walls and rafters hung and lined with every
imaginable tool, a place for everything and everything in its place. And lo and behold if one was
missing, because he could tell at first glance. And no one dared leave the premises until the
absent item was back in its designated spot - a testimony to his doggedness.

***

This day somehow held an ominous feeling about it as the trio approached the Twin Pines Golf
and Country Club at approximately seven a.m. The sun had just broken the horizon and
slinking shadows were cast across verdant fairways and greens, grass tinged with burned blades
from the late summer heat, and spattered with fallen leaves. At this time of the morning tiny
dew drops crowned every blade. The pro shop wouldn’t open for another half hour, so they strode
to the first tee, a 345 yard, dogleg left par four, as if stalking prey. After a few seconds of
limbering and stretching, Danny laid into one straight down the middle, his ball kicking up a
rooster tail of dew. Rex, Sr. followed only a few yards behind. ‘Bud’ hooked into the left fescue
rough charmed with a thicket of scraggy scrub brush and ten-year old elm trees - not a good
omen to start.

After a few choice words and a thump of his titanium no. 1 on Mother Earth (as though it were
her fault) Bud marched off in search of the errant orb. Kicking and thrashing in the tall grass
and thicket, more an expression of his disgust than a calculated search, he noticed a glint of
sunlight reflecting off something in the innermost bowel of the rough. Curious by nature, he
ambled over to the area of the flash only to be stunned into static rigidity. A prone body of a
middle-aged man lay with the shaft of a golf club driven vertical into its upper torso. When he
regained his composure, Bud hailed his brother and father back from the fairway. They
sauntered back with no sense of urgency, slightly irritated, thinking they’d have to assist in the
search for a damned golf ball, something they’d done often in past sojourns to a golf course. They
interpreted his alarmed arm waving and incoherent screaming as signs of desperation - lost
another one, they surmised.

“You know you’re slowing us down again, eh Bud?” Rex, Sr. offered as they approached. Their
consternation was quickly abated as they pulled up abruptly at the sight before them.

“Ah, hell!” said Danny sarcastically, “There goes our game today. Damn!” Then, realizing how
inappropriate his comments were, he relieved his cell phone from the confines of a vest pocket to
call 911.

It was a mere thirteen minutes before a convoy of law enforcement vehicles had arrived, bringing
with them the coroner, a team of crime scene investigators and, of course, the trio’s nemesis,
cranky Sgt. Detective, Max ‘the Bulldog’ Mulveney, Officer-in-Charge, who always appeared mad
at the world and hated his job, especially at this time of the morning, made only worse by the
heavy dew that had saturated his new beige Hush Puppies. He carried a particular disdain for
the Jones gang. They had managed to solve several crimes in the past long before Max had
gathered all evidence necessary to warrant an arrest.
The area was a bee hive of activity cordoned off by the ever present yellow police warning tape.

“You do realize that you guys are suspects, don’t you?” Mulveney directed at Rex with a certain
degree of sadistic elation in his gravelly voice. “And where in the hell were your heads? Look at
this area! You’ve compromised the crime scene with your damned trampin’ around.”

“Right, Max. Like no golfer ever put one in here before.” Danny snapped back with a direct
challenge.

“Have you touched anything before we got here?” implying their incompetence.

“Hell, no! Whaddya take us for, rank amateurs? You know better, Bulldog. We’ve been around
this block before, you know.” stepped up Rex, Sr. in defiant support of his sons.

“Whatever,” Mulveney retorted. “Did you see anyone around this morning?”

“Not a soul. We were the first to arrive at about 7:00 a.m., and that includes the course crew.”

“So you have no one to corroborate your story.”

“We have each other. So, I guess you have a gang case to deal with, eh, Max?” Rex teasing…

The coroner preliminarily set the time of death at about 5:00 a.m. and the cause of death as
blunt force trauma. The poor bugger with ugly wounds to the side of his head had been clubbed
to death. The metal spear through the heart was an exclamation point. CSI people suggested
‘the perp’ must have had a real hate on for this guy. The club head from the broken golf shaft
was no where to be found, and, of course, no finger prints on the coiled leather handle nor shaft.
Must have worn gloves, most likely golf gloves.

“Some golfer took this game a little too seriously, I guess.” said Danny in his usual sardonic
fashion.

The CSI guys found no identifying personal effects, no wallet, no rings, no pocket contents, ‘just
the clothes on his back‘, as the saying goes.

Danny fired out, “Guess that rules out ‘crime of passion’. Leaves ‘simple theft’, ‘cept went a little
overboard.”

However, they did find the tree against which the club had been cranked. Splinters of shattered
bark lay below a patch of freshly exposed tree skin. But no club head. While no distinguishable
footprints could be found among the dense grass, the coroner determined that the victim was not
killed on this site, but transported here from elsewhere. No blood from any wounds was found.
Yet there were bruises to the skin where the perp had forcibly grabbed the body to carry it to this
place, obviously hoping to deflect. Twin Pines was merely a dump site.

***

To be continued…
 Grimoire
*************************************
by Scott Claringbold
Cover Illustration Additional Images
by Marc Olivent by r. j. paré

For Lisa
My better half

Chapter 3
Ryan Winters lay in the hospital bed. Nurse Abigail Hogan tucked the covers around him and
smiled. “That’s better.” She said.

A junior doctor opened the door and upon seeing the nurse he smiled. “Hey gorgeous.”

“Hey yourself” she replied.

The young man made his way over to the nurse and grabbed her bottom firmly. “Stop it John.”
She whispered, trying to remove the hand.

“Why? This fella isn’t going to be telling anyone anything. He’s got about forty eight hours to live
if that.” Winters had an aggressive stomach cancer that seemed determined to end his life
prematurely.

The couple began to kiss but suddenly realized that they were being watched. A man stood in the
door; he wore black and had a patch over an eye. “Don’t let me stop you.” He said looking Abigail
up and down.

“Excuse me who are you?” the young doctor asked trying to defend his girlfriend.

“I’m the grim reaper, here to claim him.” Deadwood replied pointing at the figure in the bed.

“I must ask you to leave before I call security.” John bravely answered.

“Oh you got guts kid.” Deadwood moved over to the man and swinging a leg he brought John
crashing to the floor. Deadwood was inches away from Abigail and he threw out a hand running
it up a white stocking leg. “Nice, always had a thing for nurses.” He rasped. He licked his lips
and the girl wrinkled her nose in disgust but stayed quiet, unable to breathe.

Another man entered the room; he was older with white hair and was wearing an expensive
Italian designer suit.
“Knock it off Deadwood.” The man spoke with authority. Deadwood stood nodding his respect to
his boss. “You can go.” The man in the suit said dismissing John and Abigail with a wave of his
hand. Not waiting to be told twice the couple ran from the room.

“It looks like we have ourselves a subject.”

The door opened again and another doctor came in. “I didn’t think you would be doing this
through the day!” he shouted.

“Relax we’ll be out of here in a moment.” Deadwood replied. “And lower your voice.”

Deadwood took out an envelope and handed it to the doctor. Within moments Deadwood, his boss
and the man in the bed were gone.

In a darkened room the figures in black robes fought for a position round the man on the bed.
The sound of chanting rose louder and louder from the figures. At the bottom of the bed a man
dressed in a bright gold and red robe read from a book in a language that seemed alien to human
ears. Winters managed to open his eyes for a second but thought he was either still dreaming or
had died and gone to hell. He slipped back into un-consciousness.

Outside the room Deadwood shuddered. When he had been told that the Cult of Corson were
going to use Winters as a vessel he had actually felt sorry for the man. The idea was that the
High Priest would call forth Corson using the man as a gateway to the mortal realm. The Demon
King would then be free to roam the Earth and extinguish the plague that was humans. Of
course there were those that would gladly give up their fellow man for a share of the spoils.
The Organisation had aligned with the Cult of Corson after reading private files left by Adolph
Hitler. Apparently he too had tried to call forth Corson during the Second World War but had
been unsuccessful. It was only once every one hundred years, give or take a decade; that someone
was born who could translate the ancient writings.

The High Priest standing at the end of the bed had been found on a mountain in Tibet. He had
sat, waiting to be summoned as it had been foretold in the scrolls of the elders handed down
through the generations. It was then only a matter of finding the right subject, a man with no
family and an envelope full of money to a doctor up to his eyeballs in gambling debts provided
everything The Organisation needed.

As the chanting grew Deadwood decided it was time for him to head to the nearest bar for a beer
or five. He shivered and quickly made his way down the corridor.

The High Priest continued to speak in the ancient language that had died out long before
humans had set foot on the Earth. He picked up a large pot at the end of the bed. It contained a
thick paste that was a rusty red in colour. The man removed what looked like a bone from the
pot and, throwing back the covers from the man on the bed, he began to draw a symbol on Ryan’s
chest. As he spoke a wind seemed to howl through the room, the other robed figures seemed to be
hitting their stride as the chanting picked up pace and they swung from side to side.

Ryan’s body began to shake violently on the bed, his arms

flailing in the air. The symbol on his chest began to give
off an eerie glow. Lightning flashed around the room
making the hooded cult followers jump. A terrific blast of
energy shot from the bed and surrounded the chanting
crowd.

Ryan’s body began to change.

He shouted and squealed in agony as his skeleton and

skin took on a new shape. Tusks sprouted from his chin
and something poked through the skin on his back.

The crowd fell to their knees in worship and the High

Priest’s face lit with delight at the impending arrival of
his master. An unearthly sound filled the air; it was the
howling of hellhounds. The sound of bones cracking could
be heard as Ryan’s frame took on its new appearance.

A swirling vortex of red appeared in the corner of the room and the High Priest could see an
army of demons in battle dress ready to transcend the barrier and attack.

Many of the hooded followers had worked themselves up into such frenzy that they were now
lying exhausted on the floor. One follower seemed to be having a change of heart though as he
stood; pulling a knife from his robe, he lunged for the High Priest and stabbed the man through
his heart. The others pounced on him and over powered the assailant. The damage was done
however. The High Priest was sprawled across the bottom of the bed quite clearly dead.
The Cult of Corson members were angry with the man who had halted their ceremony and they
tore his robes from him to show the body underneath. The figure was naked, save for underwear,
but he had a tattoo of the cross of Christ emblazoned across his chest. He was happy to die safe
in the knowledge that he stopped Corson from entering the world.

The vortex began to disappear and the winds and howls dropped as the connection to Hell was
severed. All that was left was the body on the bed; it was no longer Ryan Winters or Corson.

When Deadwood and his crew showed up they had a nasty

mess to clean up. As they entered the room the smell of fresh
blood nearly made them vomit. The creature had gone berserk
and slaughtered everyone in the room; leaving limbs and
heads severed from their previous owners. The demon sat in
the corner, eyes flashing with anger it roared at the men
before him.

“Shut yer yap!” Deadwood shouted back and whacked the

thing with a device that shocked the creature into sleep.

The Doctors concurred that because the ceremony had not been completed Corson had not fully
passed through to our dimension. There seemed to be a fight for control of the body between
what was left of Ryan and the part of Corson that had made it through. Although this was not
what The Organisation had originally planned it did still work to their advantage.

“Make the call to Storm.” The man in the suit said.

“But boss, I can….”

“I need you here with me Deadwood, make the call.” The man demanded.

“Yes sir.” replied Deadwood.

To be continued…
“Lush!” thought Herb Bannion, as he strolled decisively along a corridor carpet with a deeper pile than
anything he had felt underfoot in his whole life. Velour wallpaper with embossed designs lit by a dozen
crystal flutes that would easily fetch three or four hundred dollars a piece on the South Shore market…

He stopped at a gilt mirror that was larger than him and stared at the reflection that stared back. He was
tall, and wide, and his best electric blue suit almost shone in the glow of the flute lighting, but not as
much as the shining velour that seemed to mock him from the expanse of wall he had just traversed.

“Lush!” He spat beneath his breath, easing slicked hair flat behind his ears. He grinned, large, moving his
head from side to side slowly checking the pearly whiteness of his perfect teeth. A final gentle pressure to
the lower point of his immaculate Windsor tie knot and he continued down the broad corridor.

At Room Three Twenty Seven he stopped and turned to face the door squarely. He clenched and
unclenched the fingers that wrapped themselves loosely around the kidskin handle of his blue samples
briefcase and without hesitation rapped a big hand against the timber. From within, he barely registered
a muffled, “Just a second!”, and he allowed himself the luxury of a final limbering of huge shoulders and
sinewy neck. “Seconds away…” he whispered beneath his breath, “Round one…”

“Yes?”
The voice from beyond the mahogany and walnut door was rich as chocolate, thick, sultry and oozing
promise.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am.” Herb took a half step away from the door and displayed himself, palms upward,
to the brass ringed eye glass. “I am here to offer you today a personal, exclusive service on behalf of the
Cleopatra Lingerie Company.”

The richer, penthouse clientele were often the easiest to gain entry to, Herb had found. Something about
the apparent self subjugation he would display, the personal sacrifice of one human being to another
seemed to strike all the right buttons with these ‘upper echelons’ of society.

“The Cleopatra Company realized,” Herb continued. “Some time ago, that those customers of a certain
standing, used to appreciating the higher qualities of life, would, by default, appreciate a higher quality of
attention and service. Therefore…”

The door to the apartment resonated with a heavy ‘clunk’, and swung gently open an inch.

“Ma’am?” Herb questioned, and moved forward pushing gently at the rich timber. Well oiled hinges took
over and the room swung languidly into view.

The area of deep pile, where Herb had expected the lady of the house to be standing, was empty. Instead
he watched, as perfect swaying buttocks, wrapped in the finest of fashionable pencil skirts, retreated into
the enormous room, to a huge red marble table upon which a lipsticked menthol cigarette was stubbed
into a crystal ashtray.

“Are you coming in then, Mister Salesman?” The chocolate voice questioned. “Or are you going to let in
the draught?” She turned her face toward him, twisting at the hip and moving one stiletto shoe into
profile, whilst keeping her hips facing directly away from the open door. She was beautiful.

“Classic pose,” thought Herb. “Thin the waist to its smallest, accentuate the height of the shoe heel,
pronounce the calf but keep the seams in view.” He closed the door behind him with a gentle click. “Oh
yes! I’m going to enjoy you.” he thought, silently.

The apartment was huge. As he crossed the floor, Herb gauged the living area alone to be maybe a
hundred and sixty feet square. The lush cream and red carpet felt like walking on cloud, and the enormity
of the Alabaster fireplace beggared belief. The woman wandered idly to a red mahogany and walnut
bookcase that matched the doors, and ran a perfectly manicured finger along the spines of a collection of
first and limited edition books that oozed value.

“Do you like de Lempika Mr…?” She turned an absent look in his direction.

“Bannion, Ma’am… but please call me Herb, Miss..?”

The woman gave no reply, but returned her interest, instead, back to the picture on the wall.

“She imparts such sexuality with every stroke of her brush… don’t you think… Mr. Bannion?”

Those fingers moved again, tracing the contours of the woman in the picture, catching here and there on
the ridges of hard oil paint, and Herb realized suddenly that the painting was of her; and an original, no
less. She moved again, drifting across the room to what Herb judged to be the West wall, a wall built
entirely of long glass windows, an observation deck to the city beyond, sprawling away to the sea.
She rested her head against the glass and looked out onto the gathering of white doves on the ledge
outside.

“Please – take a seat Mr. Bannion.” She said without turning.

Herb wondered idly, as he unlatched his case and sat, what sort of life women of her kind must have,
what line of work, if any she followed. He placed her age at perhaps forty five; a well tended forty five,
with raven black hair, immaculately presented with a golden head band to compliment the yellow silk
blouse she wore, smoothed into that charcoal gray, buttoned down skirt.

“What then are you going to ply me with this afternoon Mr. Bannion of the Cleopatra Lingerie Company?”
she offered, tiredly, as she smoothed the skirt across her buttocks, easing herself onto the plump cushions
of the couch opposite, and Herb realized that he couldn’t tell whether she was toying with him, or was,
simply, an uptight bitch.

He lifted the case lid and spun the open face slowly toward her.

“This, as I said, is our exclusive range.” He slid the crimson velvet lining toward her and allowed the
contents to speak for themselves. The sales handbooks his father had forced him to read in the ‘good old
days’ came into play and subconsciously he allowed her to impress herself with the selection before her.

She looked at the samples with a vague glimmer of interest for a moment, and then leaning forward
withdrew a rectangular packet from the case.

“Red!” She said, feigning slight interest. “Silk?”

Herb nodded.

“May I?” She cocked a wrist at Herb in askance.

“Please,” he replied “Accept them as an introductory gift on behalf of Cleopatras.”

A faint smile broke an otherwise emotionless expression and she slowly stood up. Bending, she began to
unbutton the lap of her skirt, and continued slowly until she reached thigh height. Herb said nothing, but
watched unmoved as she revealed the multiple suspenders attached to the black stockings she currently
wore. Gently she unclipped the sheer nylon and chased it with her palms down to her ankle, stopped, and
removed the stiletto from her foot.

“West Coast sunset glow on those legs!” thought Herb idly, as he watched her remove the stocking
completely. Not too tanned not too white. He wondered again at her profession, or perhaps her marriage
to some older, wealthy oil or property tycoon. Latin influenced looks, body to die for; some folks just didn’t
have to try.

Without smiling she lifted her eyes toward Herbs equally impassive face and opened the packet
containing the red silk replacements. She removed the gossamer contents and placed all but one stocking
onto the table. Resting back against the couch arm, she reversed the process she had just performed. She
rolled, inserted, smoothed and clasped the hose to her perfect leg, checking the run of the dark seam up
the rear of her leg with both palms before replacing the shoe and buttoning the skirt back into place.

Herb said nothing.

“And this…” She picked a larger item from the crimson velvet after giving her shapely ankle a cursory
appraisal in its new red encasement.
Herb looked at the copper green and black lace Basque the woman held in her hands, and with a non
committal gaze he nodded. This would be the easiest yet. She unfastened the top two pearlescent buttons
of her blouse, then, looking toward Herb for some reaction that was not forthcoming, motioned toward the
bedroom door behind her.

“I’ll try it… in here.”

Herb nodded again, and almost laughed at the pathetically unsubtle innuendo.

“Grab yourself a drink, Mr. Bannion. Cabinet’s by the radio, there’s a nice Whisky, Martini or I think
maybe a good Rum if you’d rather?” she turned toward the bedroom door.

“Lemonade’ll be just fine if you have it.” Herb said as he watched her disappear from view.

“In the Frigidaire!”

Herb stood up quickly and moved across to the radio. He turned the huge knob and with a click the
volume rose. One of a million possible crooners warbled a song of unrequited passion into the room and
Herb lifted the flap on the drinks cabinet.

“Can I do you… anything?” He echoed her pitiful wordplay.

“Dry Martini, shaken… not stirred!” She called.

“Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be shaken – before the sun goes down.” he whispered as he opened the
immaculate blue jacket and withdrew a neatly folded pair of cotton gloves.

The gloves had been his fathers, back in the ‘good old days’. Back in the days when his father had sold
linens door to door to bored wives and widows across the mid-west twenty years gone. And to the one
widow who had stolen that father away from his wife and young family, leaving them, to fend for
themselves in a depression to end all depressions, alone. Herb Bannion pulled on his father’s gloves and
with the humor of the insane drew the long skinning knife from within the lining of his jacket.

“Why, Mr. Bannion! I simply love it!”

Herb turned slowly, rolling the wicked blade in playful rotation across his palm, before unhurriedly
placing both hands out of view behind him as he spoke toward the open door.

“Would you perhaps allow me the pleasure of a viewing, before we finalize… business?” He grimaced at
the pathetic double entendre that he felt sure would impress.

“And why not?” said the voice, more chocolaty rich than ever as she stepped back into the room.

She rested against the doorframe, arms held coyly behind her back. A vision in greens, reds and black,
copper green panties and a Ruby studded leather choker complimented her lingerie. While on her feet,
heavy gray, spike heels lifted her to the proportions of an Amazon. Had Herb Bannion been a normal
man, what followed would have been a dance played out a thousand times through time immemorial but,
neither being the case, what did follow would make the morning papers nationwide.

“There are times in a boring life, that a girl must make her own entertainment, Mr. Bannion.” She
watched him closely from below lowered lids as she moved further into the room.
“I have lived here in the city for longer than I like to recall. But I have few friends Mr. Bannion. Few true
friends…”

Herbs patience was at an end. The threat of suffering, imposed by the self pitying rhetoric of this whore
who had the world at her beck and call was too much to bear.

“And like children left to exist on dust and fresh air, salesmen too must make their own entertainment at
times… Ma’am!” he spat in ironic agreement, and for a moment he was glad that she would remain
anonymous to him as she screamed her last breath into his face.

Then, in perfect synchronization, Herb pulled the skinning knife into view as the woman, unperturbed;
pulled the heavy pistol she had been concealing, and aimed it directly between Herbs eyes.

Behind him, from the ledge beyond the window panes, the doves took flight, and with a deafening roar
and splintering of concrete and timber the entire side of the apartment disappeared.

Herb did not hear the crash, nor feel the crush of the huge object that destroyed half of Wentworth
Boulevard that afternoon. In fact all that remained of Herb Bannion was a bright crimson smear across
the once lush carpet and the skinning knife which, propelled by the force of the impact, spun across the
room and sank, hilt deep, into the silver Frigidaire. Fragments of reinforced concrete and lethal shards of
window glass showered the interior of the apartment, as whatever monumental force was travelling in
the air beyond the windows carried the crushed remains of Herb away, down the street outside.

The woman stared at the huge opening where the west wall of her apartment had once been. Large pieces
of debris fell from above onto the glass strewn floor, and with the same unperturbed expression remaining
on her face, she let the handgun fall to her side and walked into the wind that was now carrying the noise
of sirens into the apartment. She looked up at the clear blue afternoon sky and leaned out to look down
the boulevard, strong gusts of wind thrashing her hair about her face.

A huge spherical object, spiny and metallic was careering along the avenue some eighty feet above the
road below. Against the silver skin of the receding sphere she could just make out the blue color of a
painted ‘Kilroy’ peeking at her over grasping fingers, with the word ‘BOOM!” emblazoned in a speech
balloon above its head. As the enormous bomb-ball crashed again into the buildings lining the avenue she
noticed a now familiar figure astride its top.

The leather flight suit, of the man who had become known to the residents of Dore’s Rib as ‘The
Archangel’, bent and rose repeatedly into a small, open hatch or doorway, tearing up cables in handfuls
and loosing shot after shot into the innards of the flying bomb. With grim determination he held fast to
the object like a wrangler to a wild stallion, and despite the wind she thought she heard him screaming
maddened curses into the workings of the thing.

With a sudden lurch the sphere swung to the left and, demolishing the radio antenna from the DRR
station a block away, ploughed onward toward the dockside and the open bay beyond, sun glinting off its
horned carapace.

She stepped back as a last piece of debris fell, with measured finality to the blood smeared carpet at her
feet, and looked at the devastation around her.

“Shit!” she said, to the wind, and the sirens wailed.

~ Fin ~
Blondie – by James ‘Jig-One’ Titman
Manga Maximus
by Darke Raven
This Month's Experiment:

Tenchi Muyo : Sasami Stories

Story and Art by Hitoshi Okuda
VIZ (2003)

It's been a long, long, long time since I watched Tenchi Muyo. And by that of course I mean the original
first OAV (Original Animation Video) series and the first TV Series of Tenchi Muyo. Not whatever the
last rethread reboot of the series was, its basic origins. Call me old fashioned (I know you do) but for me
Tenchi was the best back in its beginnings, when the series first launched. This volume, collecting all
Sasami related content from No Need For Tenchi (the English title of Tenchi Muyo) Volume 3, 8 and 12
including previously unseen (before this volume) content, is a bit focused on Sasami, the younger sister of
Ayeka and of course one of the fan favorite characters of the series.

For those of you not too familiar with Tenchi Muyo,

if you are a fan of harem manga and animes, series
where one guy is surrounded by a large cast of
females (no doubt fighting over him) then one of
your first exposures to the genre (if you are an old
school Otaku like me) would be... yes... this series. In
this case we have Tenchi, who soon finds himself
surrounded by a rather odd cast of females in the
form of the space pirate Ryoko, Juraian princess
Ayeka and her little sister Sasami (later you find out
Tenchi is himself part Juraian by blood if I
remember right), legendary (mad) scientist Washu
(who is also Ryoko's "mother" if I remember right),
and space police space case Mihoshi (who is joined in
the TV Series by Kiyone, her partner who is rather
at times tortured and suffers being Mihoshi's
partner... kinda like Squidward (Spongebob) only not
so annoying. Since the manga this series is an offshoot of the OVA (a rarity amongst Anime / Mangas, in
that it's a rare series where the Anime came first followed by the manga, unlike most anime series where
the manga was first before the anime) Kiyone is not present in the series.
The first story puts Sasami's life in danger as she ends up helping an escaped wolf (from a shipment to a
local zoo) only to end up falling into a ravine and needing to be rescued by the gang and the wolf (who
becomes rather fond of Sasami after she helps him when she finds him trapped by a rock). The second
story is an Iron Chef style story where Sasami ends up being recruited to battle in Kitchen Stadium of the
series after she proves her cooking chops (one of her biggest talents is cooking) only to find herself
embroiled in a bit of a father son crisis between the "chairman" (who seems to me to be less based on
Chairman Kaga than a certain rival of his during the Iron Chef TV Series who often challenged Kitchen
Stadium with his hitmen chefs always trying to take out the Iron Chefs) and his son, previous champion
of the show as Sasami is set to challenge him. The last story seems to burden Sasami with the hiccups
making her the victim of everyone's well intended attempts to cure her... even if it kills her. It ends with a
large section of four panel skits (which happens to include an Iron Chef skit featuring Kaga, and Iron
Chef French Sakai (who in turns references Iron Chef Chinese Kenichi)).

I like this because it's a nice reminder of what I liked so much about the old classic Tenchi Muyo series
and of course by that I mean the Japanese language version with English subs since I disliked the
English dub of the series, which is commonplace since only a scant few English dubs are worth
recommending... but that's a story for Anime reviews, in that it's well written, nicely paced, filled with
nice lovable vibrant characters and just plain fun. That's my selling point for alot of anime series... I have
to love the cast, find the writing solid and overall have fun with the series... that's not too much to ask for
from a good manga right?

Anyway if you are a fan of either the classic Tenchi series (like me) or Tenchi curious this is for you. There
are others to get, of course (No Need for Tenchi, aka the original Tenchi Muyo manga, and spin offs like
Magical Girl Pretty Sammy (a spin off with it's own Anime series to boot)) so lots to check out to satisfy
your Tenchi curiosity. A nice solid fun series, nice read, check it out. A 4 out of 5... now I just need to try
out No Need for Tenchi. On my - to read - list.

Next time? We'll check out if we can find any quality manga online from the PlayStation Network... if not
we'll pick up some pertinent volumes of The Legend of Zelda for review. After that it's April, which means
April Fools... speaking of which we trouble ourselves by wondering what the heck is this... as we review
Bo-bobo bobo-bobo... bo bo bo bobobobo... this one. The one about this guy with the giant 70's hairdo
fighting Dragonball Z knockoff parodies over... hair... what the heck! Hair, I tell you, hair! And it had an
Anime Series (on Cartoon Network once I do believe) and a long manga series and... seriously?

Yes... stay tuned.

Mischievous Alice – by Amber Blair
 Syndicated Comic
Strip Review
Bob and Doug
McKenzie
- The Comic Strip
by Nik Poliwko & Tom Nesbitt
[article by Nik]

Editor’s Note:
Where we left off…
last issue Tom &
Nik described
working on the
strip, meeting
deadlines and the
eventual end of the
strip’s contract
with Worldwide
Features
Syndicate.
 The strip lasted for just over a year and was published daily in over
100 newspapers in Canada and the U.S. Through our work on the
strip, Tom and I also did television graphics for the SCTV program
segment called "Shake and Bake" and wrote and produced the book
based on the Bob & Doug movie, "Strange Brew."

It was a great experience and some of the best times I've had were
working on those projects with my buddy Tom. Over the years we've
both gone on to other things, with Tom doing a stint as Art Director
at Nelvanna Animation and these days doing freelance artwork
for the video game industry. As for myself, I’ve done comics for a
number of indie publishers, ran my own computer animation
company, directed a few short films and have recently returned to
my first love: creating comics.

We hope you’ve enjoyed

this little look into the
world of those iconic
Canadian hosers...

“Bob and Doug.”

Editor’s Note: We’d like to thank Nik Poliwko & Tom Nesbitt for sharing this look back at their
work on Bob and Doug McKenzie – the Comic Strip. Coming Soon: Nik’s featured artist
appearance in RKYV.
Don’t Flippin’ Care Bear – by Stephen Gibb
The Director’s Chair
by r. j. paré
Welcome to a new feature here at RKYV. “The Director’s Chair” is your chance to have some
fun coming up with a dream cast for a film you’d like to see get made. I am going to get the ball
rolling for the first column and what I’d like to see happen is that you – the RKYV reader’s and
contributors – write in with your ideas for a dream cast for a film based upon your favourite
books, TV shows, comics or previously made films [ah, the ever loving, often dreaded, re-make –
this could be your chance to show Hollywood how its done.]

For this new feature’s debut and for any further columns I come up with while waiting for you
folks to write in… I thought I’d try a bit of “Pop Culture Re-Casting.” What I will do in my
sessions in the Director’s Chair is take a cast from an old TV show or Film, that I am
particularly fond of, and re-cast them in the titles roles of some “dream project” I’ve just been
itching to drop some coin on at the local Cineplex.

In honour of an upcoming featured artist [Greg Capullo in RKYV # 46] I’ll take one of my new
favourite comics, use the cast from one of my old favourite TV shows [one that we still watch in
syndication, over and over, LOL] and show them Holly-weird types how to really cast a fan-fav
movie! Let’s see how the so-called Scooby Gang, would fare from TV’s “Buffy the Vampire
Slayer” playing the main characters in one of Image Comics best selling titles, “Haunt.”

Now for those unfamiliar with “Haunt,” Daniel and Kurt Kilgore are estranged brothers – Kurt
is a highly trained covert operative for “The Agency” and Daniel is a lost and depressed man
hiding from his personal failings within the priesthood. Everything changes when Kurt dies on a
mission and his ghost comes to visit Daniel. They discover that Kurt can partially “possess” his
brother, creating an ectoplasmic super-suit that Daniel can now use to fight the good fight…
They say ladies first, so we’ll start off by seeing how Buffy’s crew could fill the sexy high-heeled
shoes of…

Charisma Carpenter

As

Director Beth Tosh

Beth Tosh is Kurt Kilgore’s former lover and now acting Director of the Agency. Charisma
Carpenter is sexy as all get-out and would certainly have fan-boys begging, she’d get more screen
time, if she played the smart and tough head of the Agency.

Alyson Hannigan
As
Assistant Director
Theresa Rhodes
Theresa Rhodes is a sleeper agent in the Agency. Nobody suspects she secretly works for the bad
guys. She’s cute, likable and seemingly beyond suspicion. Alyson Hannigan has made a career of
playing cute, lovable girls on TV and in the American Pie films. As any Buffy fan knows, she can
go to the dark side as well. Whether it was the Vampire Willow from the alternate universe or
full-on Darth Rosenberg, we know Alyson can pull off this character’s hidden duplicity and bring
fans to their feet during the big “reveal.”

Eliza Dushku

As

Mirage

The dangerous and sexy rogue agent is another former lover of Kurt's and who else but fan fav
Eliza Dushku to bring this femme fatale to life? This would also lead into a fan-tastic reunion
when Eliza’s Mirage confronts Kurt’s widow, Amanda, played by…
 Sarah Michelle Gellar
As
Amanda Kilgore

Amanda is Kurt's widow and Daniel Kilgore’s former fiancé. Her relationship with Daniel was
cut short due to her infidelity with Kurt. Buffy fans know that Sarah can play a character with
extremely messed up “relationship issues” and the chance to see her and Eliza square off one
more time is sure to have fans waiting in line for this film.

Armin Shimerman

As

Dr. Shillinger

This would only be a small part, as the sick and twisted Dr. Shillinger is killed by Kurt in the 1st
issue of the comic. But the good doctor’s plans and experiments are an important plot point
throughout the series. Veteran actor, Armin, can play the weasel-y old scientist with ease and
let’s face it – it would make for an awesome big screen moment, for millions of Buffy fans, seeing
“Principal Snyder” bite the big one again!

Anthony Head

As

Mr. Hurg

Mr. Hurg is an educated and cultured mob boss, with a propensity for violence and a good deal of
rage simmering just below the surface. Anthony Head has shown, post-Buffy, that he can play
the heavy whether it’s as the brooding Uther, in the BBC production of Merlin or the corporate
hit-man in Repo! The Genetic Opera. Now if only we can work a scene in showing off his
considerable singing talents… LOL
 David Boreanaz

As

Cobra
Let’s face it, David plays too many good guys. We all remember how much fun it was to watch him turn
bad as Angelus, now let’s see him tackle the super hit-man Cobra. Cobra starts off as a handsome and
deadly gun for hire, but after Haunt deforms his face – he becomes a lethal whack-job with a thirst for
vengeance. Hello? David Boreanz would be perfect for this and it would lead to a pseudo-rematch with…

Marc Blucas

As

Kurt Kilgore
Kurt Kilgore’s a red-blooded square-jawed hero who successfully serves his country as a covert operative
until he dies on a mission. His flaws are personal in nature; his inability to reconcile with his brother; his
infidelity in his marriage… Marc can play the tragic hero, his character, Riley, on Buffy, always wanted
to do the right thing, when it came to duty, but ultimately failed in his personal relationships. His
portrayal would make a perfect contrast with…

Nicholas Brendon

As

Father Daniel Kilgore

Daniel Kilgore, at his core, is a good guy though he’s always felt insecure & inferior to his brother Kurt.
He’s had horrible luck with women, so much so that he fled to the priesthood [at least temporarily]. As
Haunt he masks these traits with humour and bravado. Nicholas Brendon’s “Xander,” on Buffy, was
always in situations – out of his control and out of his depth – he would mask his insecurities with
bravado and humour. Really, no one could play this role with the mix of sincerity and wit that Nicholas
Brendon can bring to the table.

This book is one heck of a butt-kicking supernatural adventure each month and Buffy the Vampire Slayer
was one heck of a butt-kicking supernatural adventure each episode – seems like the perfect “Pop
Culture Re-Casting,” for an exciting feature film, if you ask me…
Poker Face – by Mike Grattan
 Poetry
Selected Poems
by Wanda VanHoy Smith
VALENTINE COMIC STRIP
When she opens her mailbox she does not
have high hopes, like cartoon character Peanuts
of finding a valentine.

The Charley Brown inside of her is pleasantly surprised

to find a card among the utility bills.
She thinks someone loves her after all.

The white card has a message in red letters but no

cupid or hearts and does not say “Be My Valentine.”
The greeting card is from the City Police Department
and informs her she owes a parking fine.

The trouble is the thirty dollar fine will double if

she fails to pay it in a week.
Heart, in need of warmth
There has been no ticket on her windshield recently. – by r. j. paré
She is convinced the fine should be appealed.
Looking carefully at the card she discovers
the date the parking ticket was issued is
the day her grandson Rex borrowed her car.

Wishy-washy good old Charley Brown inside of her

suddenly turns into mean spirited Lucy.

She will call Rex and give him a piece of her mind.
His phone rings and rings and no one answers.
Lucy's desire to pull the football away increases.

She hears a rap on her door.

There stands Rex with a big smile, a pizza,
and bouquet of red roses.
“Happy Valentine's Day, Grandma” he says.
Lucy melts away and Charley Brown takes over.
She gives Rex a big hug and smells the roses.

Heart, finds warmth Lucy can come back tomorrow, with no regrets,
– by r. j. paré and confront him about the ticket
unless she forgets.
 HONEYMOON MIST
It is Valentine's Day when they go to Las Vegas to
take a chance on marriage.
Young and so broke they can't even afford a best man or
maid of honor and miss a luxurious Honeymoon.
Her wedding band is a mood ring from the gift shop.
They hit a jackpot of love and spend the night in a
no tell motel to the music of squeaky bed springs.
He promises “Some Valentine day, we will have a
romantic Honeymoon.”
Thirty years later with money in the bank, He says
“I got Valentine's day reservations for a Honeymoon in Hawaii.”
She packs her silk Victoria secrets
and puts on a Moo Moo ready for romance and a lei.
At the last minute, he is called on a business trip
he can't refuse and must shuffle North East to Buffalo.
She changes her moo moo for a sweater, shuffles along
and finds herself in an upper New York state of mind.
He closes his deal and rushes back to their hotel
in Buffalo to insist they follow their bliss.
“Niagara Falls is in Canada across the way.
We can Cross on the Maid of the Mist ferry boat.''
They stand on the deck of Maid of Mist under spray
of the falls as exciting as when they first kissed.
They look for a place to stay near Victoria Park in Canada.
All hotel rooms are booked like their first night in Vegas.

A desk clerk notes the white of his temples and laugh lines
in corners of her eyes and he dismisses them with a curt,
“Sorry, all we have left is the Honeymoon Suite.”
The groom pats his bride's fanny “Perfect, we'll take it.
Today is Valentine's day."
The young clerk raises his eyebrows when she says with a giggle
“Everyday is Valentine's day.”

Love, on the Maid of the Mist – by r. j. paré

Selected Poems
by Stephen Campbell
Rhythm Exercise
I walk to town to meet my love,
Taking time to meet her thence,
And taking time I look above,
I see a bird upon a fence.
This bird takes flight and swoops away
Into the night and the perilous sky.
The bird I never see again by day,
By night the bird never flies by.
This rhythm is hard for me to master,
I’d need a book to instruct me thus,
To construct good verse that will last
Until I die, then bring me fame enough.
Christmas present I painted for a friend – by Amber Blair
I Look about Me
I sit by the table and write down all I see
Around me and all the beauty of realities
That some days I ignore, but what lovely lyrics
Can I form out of a land as green and striking
As Erin, and its many streams of trout glistening
That men of craft care for in their fishing,
And I will fish too for a meaning in Ireland
To be born here above all other lands.
What has been ordained for me, something vast
Perhaps but ill linger here all my life, this land is my past.
Selected Poetry
by Tindersen
Blacktree
Hoopdriver

Sideline
Movement,
with
unrelated
illustration
“sideline
movement”
Poetic Perspectives
by r. j. paré
Medusa’s Struggle – by Amber Blair
 Raised on
Saturday
Morning
Cartoons
by Pauline Paré

Fantastical Worlds on the Small Screen

Live action TV series set in fantasy worlds are few and far between.
Many that have been made are plagued with low production value
and campy storylines ie: “The Adventures of Sinbad.” Camp can
be fun, mind you. I am not ashamed to say that I watched every
season of Xena and I loved it. Shows like Hercules embraced the
camp and made Greek mythology fun if not entirely staying true the
original subject matter. Recently, the Comedy Network put out
“Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire.” I tuned in for
the title and stayed for the laughs. Shows, like this, are just pure fun
and unlikely to ever win an Emmy, but worthwhile time wasters.

Serious, dramatic fantasy series are rare and they find it difficult to
stick around. “Roar” was set in the Roman invasion of Britannia
and starred a young Heath Ledger. I watched every episode of the
original 8 that aired. There are 5 unaired included on the DVD set.
Intelligent and well written but low rated, it was a victim of bad
timing. I never watched “The Legend of the Seeker” but a couple
friends love the show and there is an active campaign to save it.
Again, these shows are never given a big budget and stellar cast so
they are hard pressed to tell a high fantasy story the way it could
be told.
 I personally have great hopes for two dramatic fantasy
series set to premiere this spring. I read “Game of
Thrones” by George R. R. Martin and was excited to
find out that HBO is turning this best selling book into a
series. HBO is known for ground breaking, big budget,
award winning series and the fact that they are giving
this show the full HBO treatment is very exciting.

This cast thus far is stellar and the trailer at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ixEWrTLiZg is

very exciting. Set in Westeros at a time where several powerful famies are fighting for the crown
it is an epic tale. Reportedly, it will follow Martin’s work closely. Sean Bean (Lord of the Rings)
stars with Lena Headly (Sarah Conner Chronicles) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (New
Amsterdam). It is an exciting cast and something new for TV audiences. I must admit to being
seriously geek-ed over this wonderful book coming to my television.

Another exciting bit of news for fantasy and Arthurian fans alike:
Camelot. Camelot is filmed on location in Ireland and takes a
cue from the amazing cinematic quality of “The Walking
Dead” by using real film- not television cameras. The
soundtrack is recorded by a live orchestra and is a
collaboration of 3 different countries.

The trailer:
http://www.joblo.com/video/player.php?video=Camelot-Trailer
looks interesting enough but I am not as much a fan of Starz series. Perhaps that could change
when Camelot premieres this spring. The cast looks interesting enough and I am so happy to see
this subject matter brought to the small screen with good production value. “Merlin” did not live
up to my expectations in this respect and I am waiting to see what Starz can do.

Fantasy may become a more feasible venture with the various

specialty channels airing high quality original programming and if
either of these new shows does well, we may see an explosion of
fantasy on the small screen. I personally would love to see several
of my favourite fantasy books come to life.

Editor’s Note: on the back page of

this issue is a look at my first pass at
designing a cover to this month’s
issue. David once again kicked my
butt, as his clean and classy cover on
this issue attests, however it was fun
trying to come up with the design on
my own…