Strangers in Paradise...

I find myself feeling like that "guy" who was following Tom Hank's character in the movie Forest Gump. Y'know, when Forest was running across America and he was at the point where finally decided to stop and go home, he turned around and started running back home and as the crowd parted to make way for him, the main guy said, "Now what are we supposed to do?"

Terry Moore, the gifted and talented writer/artist/creator of Strangers in Paradise, will have my lasting friendship and loyalty with whatever endeavors he chooses next. He took us on a wild, unbelievable ride through the fictional lives of Katchoo, Francine, David, Casey, Freddie, Tambi, Bambi, Veronica, the truly dispicable Darcy Parker and many others.

Katchoo was the star of the show to me. She embodied someone who wasn't physically very big, but when she chose to impose her will, nothing short of the man upstairs could stop her and even that was debatable. She was the mysterious person who knew dangerous and deadly ways to dispatch the life and wellness of another human being, and, like the Incredible Hulk, she didn't show you how dangerous she was unless she got very angry. She also embodied the tragic victim in all our hearts, the one whom we catch a glimpse of walking the streets or sitting in a waiting room at the hospital, the one our heart goes out to without knowing a thing about her. But Katchoo gave us hope for all the tragedy and misery that had occurred in her life, her indomitable spirit showed a chick who was not about to give up.

Francine is gorgeous and she represents the secret desire most men have for someone who's imperfections make her perfect. And while Katchoo was the star, Francine represented the everyman.. er, woman. She was the character I most identified with (even though I'm a 35 year old male) because she wasn't as witty as Katchoo. She got confused easily, she thought of the best lines 30 minutes after an incident had passed. She was the most HUMAN. And she showed that knowing your sexuality, your preference is not black and white, easy as pie. She took the long road to find out what she truly wanted and I congratulate her, because some people out there still don't know and, tragically, some may never find out.

David. Ah, David. I will admit, like Ben Affleck's character in Chasing Amy, that "all a lesbian really needs is a good, deep _______." And David, in my mind, was that aspect, at first. Of course, he became so much more. Here was a guy whom I thought I had pegged from day one and, like Katchoo, it turned out he too had a mysterious past. He too, could become dangerous and deadly at a moments notice. He too had a past that stained his soul, albeit the stains were almost gone thanks to his strong faith. He represented the perfect guy, the idealogical opposite of the jerks that plagued Francine's life early on.

And when he died,... it was so painful to read. It was done properly, how Terry rendered David, falling down and laying at an awkward angle on the floor. So graceless. So HUMAN. It seemed right that there were no words spoken for the rest of the issue. It was appropriate, since when a tragedy occurs, the initial shock renders us so numb that we hear nothing, feel nothing. We are upset, but we so strongly disbelieve what has happened that our body does not, can not react. The situation being so shocking that everything else melts into a background of numb white noise.

The death of David is/was most likely an SiP fan's least favorite thing to digest but it, along with another hundred dozen similar emotionally explosive revelations was what we most appreciated from Terry as he continually found ways to rock our world. This is what I will sorely miss most.

There isn't, to my knowledge another series like SiP out there. Box Office Poison drew a similarity and Terry brough notoriaty (to me) for Jane's World. I've heard that Terry will be taking over the reins of the Marvel book entitled "The Runaways" and I look forward to what he can do with pre-established characters that don't belong to him.

I am a bit spoiled in thinking that/hoping/wishing that SiP shouldn't have ended but at the same time, I've heard and agreed with the explanations and rationalizations of music and movie stars regarding their exit from their respective art form as they go something along the lines of "Always leave them wanting more" or "It's best to leave before the party ends so one doesn't get stuck with the bill and clean up."

The Abstract trio were probably due their final curtain. I just feel like I'm sure going to miss them kids, dammit.

Thank you, Terry Moore.

Pause for Joy

For the past two weeks, something has been festering and bubbling inside me. The only solutions to my dilemma were to either ingest Tums or to write it out. My choice was clear.

It hit me tonight, rather harshly. Y'see, I'm happy. Yes, it's that simple and yet very complicated. I have discovered, through several mediums (be them Radio, Television, DVD Documentary, Music, comics, etc.) what a wonderful gift life really is. I don't mean to get all mushy and wuss-like, but please, read me out.

We all take for granted what a gift life is. Indeed, most of us live life with such monotonous routine that we become numb to all the little joys and pleasures that exist around us. Perspective is a powerful thing and if we ever hope to maintain a positive one, we must learn to routinely battle ourselves every day. It sounds stupid, doesn't it? It sounds complicated, difficult and not worth the effort, but I promise you it SO is!

I'm not preaching here. I haven't been proselytized to some church or cult with instructions to convert as many as I can for the coming apocalypse, even though I think there's enough circumstantial evidence to start wide spread panic about the probability of the coming end. Nothing so preachie.

What I'm talking about are the simple things in life. I think most of us find something to laugh about or to take joy in as we go about our lives. Statistically speaking, I read that the average human laughs like 400 times a day. For some of us, it's probably something hysterical we hear on the radio. Or something hilarious that our little daughter said in the ladies room as she read something off the bathroom stall wall. For others, it's probably our son who seemingly cracks his skull as he falls down for the umpteenth time and gets up THIS time and smiles instead of wailing. Some of us enjoy a nice little "alone" time with our spouse while the best friend is over "distracting" the kids (don't ask).

For me, I recently met and talked with (for about 45 minutes) an aspiring writer/artist who was in the middle of patenting some comic character creations (at about $50 a pop, ouch) while he tries breaking in to the comic book business. In conversation he mentioned he had a collection of comic books and when I let on that I was an avid collector and fan of writer's and artists of the industry, he promptly asked me what my opinion was regarding the death of Captain America.

I was honest, I told him I thought it sucked. Here was a Super Soldier (a SOLDIER, for crying out loud) who braved battles with Baron Von Zemo, Dr. Doom, the Red Skull, Skrulls and countless other enemies, only to fall victim to the simplest form of assassination that only our president's (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley and Kennedy) suffered. Hell, he fought Batman in the Marvel/DC confrontation to a draw. But his beloved ball and chain proves lethal to him. (There's a lesson there, somewhere).

So he got me thinking about trying my hand at drawing once again. I tried it when I was very young, when I only had probably two years of friendship with O.J., the guy who got me started on comics, but at the time my work ethic was about as good as my desire to cut the grass, which is to say non-existant. The point is, simply running into another fanboy who shares some of the same interests as I, like my strange obsession with funny books and the desire to tell my own stories, thrilled me. It's been a long standing opinion of mine that we (every human being on the planet) all have one true wish and that is to be understood. What better way to achieve understanding by sharing and celebrating commonalities with another human being.

Well, having sex of course, but I'm not really a degreed professional in that field, so...

I recently watched Wrestlemania 21 and the third disk was the WWE Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony for several popular wrestlers. Watching that third disk made me delirious with joy as I got to see/hear wrestlers who have been in the entertainment business for a LONG time.

Y'see, back in the 70's (I say 70's because that's when I was born and that's when I discovered it) for the longest time, the entertaining art form known as wrestling was seemingly forever destined to be a closet joy to those of us who fell in love with it. It was not something talked about openly without garnering some measure of shame and embarrassment from surrounding "adults", girls and Grandma. They didn't understand the draw, the artistry behind telling a story, similar to albeit more painful than stage acting.

We all know the business of Wrestling Entertainment has evolved now to the point where the candid sharing of stories and a peek behind the curtain is more appreciated than just assuming your audience is dumb. So when Jake "The Snake" Roberts tells us of the demons that he's wrestled with, when Bobby "The Brain" Heenan calls us "humanoids" and gushes his appreciation for his former broadcast mate (God rest his soul) Gorilla Monsoon, when Jim Cornette talks candidly about the amazing lightning in a bottle chemistry that was haphazardly created in World Class Championship Wrestling and how it was lost, I smile. Because these are stories and experiences that we would never hear and be a part of if it weren't for the final evolution of the Wrasslin Business. Not to mention the grace and love THESE people have for the business of professional wrestling. And I am ever so grateful.

It's things like this that make me so happy to be alive here in this place, at this time. Sure there are many things that happen out in the world that continually get us down. But as radio personality Dennis Prager, who day in and day out tries to champion the cause of happiness on his radio show, (he) says "Happiness is an obligation-to yourself and to others." What he means is that (and forgive me, I'm paraphrasing what is written on the back of his latest book entitled "Happiness is a serious problem"), We have not just a right to be happy, but an obligation because by being happy, we effectively share the wealth to those all around us. Everyone we encounter during our day is affected by our attitude and the world would be a much better place if we tried maintaining positive and happier attitudes with everyone we meet.

Dennis Prager is host to his own show on KTRN News Talk Radio and one of my guilty pleasures because, IMHO he is unlike any other talk radio host I've ever listened to. Here is a man who is clear, concise, articulate and (his most important characteristic) moral! I have never come across a more moral, a more fair person than Mr. Prager. Oh, yes, you can take your shock jocks, your jokers and your funny radio personalities, the ones who are arguably more entertaining and keep listening. I just so happen to be at a point in my life where I'm searching for meanings. The meaning to my life and the meaning of life in general. I'm tired of simply looking for the next distraction, the next entertaining thing to take my mind off life! And I am SO HAPPY to have come across Dennis and his show because here's a guy who will tackle life's issues and give you (what I consider to be) the closest, morally sound perspective on anything, ANYTHING!

It's people like Dennis that I thank God for. Dennis and Alanis Morrisette.

What?

Yeah, you read right, Alanis Morrisette. I recently acquired a documentary on Alanis. It opened my eyes to the dedication and hard work she has put in her music and it has helped me to reshape the angry image I've long since identified with her for so many years. My respect and appreciation for her as an artist and as a person has risen by learning of her love and respect for her fans, her selfless contributions to many charitable foundations and by hearing her definition and seeing her perspective of what a musical artist is and can be. I have long since believed that Sarah MacLachlan is an acoustical sounding board for my soul and that has not changed. But I'm happy to label Alanis and her achievements as the lyrical passion cry of my heart.

Finally, I've ever been a fan of certain British drama series' that have been released on DVD here in America, namely "Cracker" (Robbie Coltrane), a series that has apparently ended (I am very sorry to report) and "Wire in the Blood" with Robson Greene. I recently picked up the latest season I've been missing of "Wire in the Blood" and have been rocked by the series. The aforementioned shows, which I assume are unedited when broadcast on British Television, are provocative and riveting and I'm not trying to use sound bites here. Were they to air here in America in there entirety (they may have aired edited versions on PBS, I dunno, I don't have cable or antenna) they could ONLY be broadcast on cable for they are rated "R" by American movie terms.

Anyways, they exist on this post as two more reasons I am ecstatic to own them as the respective actors on each series (not just Coltrane and Greene) but the entire cast are brilliant. I believe Kevin Smith said it best when he was warning his morally bankrupt partner in crime, Jason Mewes about the need for his serious preparation for dialogue during the filming of Dogma in regards to fellow British actor Alan Rickman, "Dude, Alan Rickman is a British actor, and British actors fucking invented acting. They will chew the scenery around you. He won't put up for "Snootchie Bootchie's and shit like that."

Which leads me to another reason to love life as it stands right now. Kevin Smith. Kevin Smith represents the every man (more so than John McClain ever will) that us overweight, comic geeks can always aspire to. (Ironically, I say "us overweight, comic geeks" when it is most likely that anyone reading this post is either married, affianced or "gettin some", unlike the author) It's like the concept of Batman and it is a very important point so read up. Comic fans who love Batman know and understand that there is not even the remote possibility that we will get bitten by a radioactive spider.

We are forever from Earth and it is too late for Dad to send us in a rocket ship to another planet where the sun in that solar system might grant us powers beyond compare, before Dad and the rest of his neighbor's screw this planet up beyond repair.

We're already human and therefore can never be a mighty mouse, let alone an average mouse. Spinach will never affect us any differently than giving us diarrhea when we eat too much of it. Abin Sur will never choose us. Radioactive chemicals will more likely melt our face off then they would blind us, yet heightening our other senses. And a radioactive Gamma bomb is more likely to start another Bush war for oil than it would unleash a rampaging savage beast inside of us.

But we CAN be Batman. It IS possible! It is a goal that is attainable, reachable, and achievable. Well, maybe not for me given my laughable "too terribly out of shape" physical status. If someone shoots my mom and dad, I'll be pissed, for sure, but if I had a mansion and all that money, I'd be building me a Chik-fil-a in that mother, yeah!!

Kevin Smith will always be the lucky bastard who, like us, will love all things comic related, all things movie related and all things sex related, but unlike us, he's talented enough to walk among the stars, to rub shoulder's with Alanis, Rosario Dawson, Bruce Willis, Jennifer Garner and... yes, of course, Matt Damon. ...Oh! and Ben Affleck too. Heh.

There are so many reasons to delight in this world. And I didn't even cover family and friends. That would be too long a post.

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