Today has been full of all the little annoyances that are part and parcel of being an adult. Mow the lawn, put down grass seed for a thicker, fuller lawn, make appointment to see doctor about that thing on your back that’s not going away, schedule hair cut, feed cats, self reflect.
Now, it’s me time as I get to enjoy the honor and privilege of writing about comics for a spell.
Jude Ellison S. Doyle (W)
A.L. Caplan (A)
Aside from being fun to type, BOOM! Studios is a publisher that is consistently giving me books that are not only new and interesting, but necessary.
Maw is a new five-issue horror series that is in shops TODAY. Check out this blurb:
What happens when one woman becomes the real monster society has always made her out to be? Dragged by her sister Wendy to a feminist retreat on the remote island of Angitia, Marion Angela Weber hopes to gain some perspective and empowerment… that isn’t at the bottom of a bottle. But everything is horribly derailed after an assault on their first night there. The violent encounter awakens something in Marion she never imagined, triggering warped mutations in her body, and awakening a hunger she can’t bring herself to name. When the townsfolk react with suspicion and violence, what unforgivable act will transform Marion into the very monster they’ve made her out to be?
The horrors depicted in the first issue of Maw are, depressingly, of this world and victims of assault may want to approach this title with caution. It’s not that it’s graphic or explicit, but the examination of the aftermath and the hopelessness felt by the main characters is all too real. I’m not in any position to say who should and should not read this book but I would implore anyone to not let the subject matter put them off.
Of course since this is a horror series the first issue is bookended with glimpses of the supernatural aspects that will no doubt be expanded upon in the following four issues. Maw somehow does manage to work in a little bit of humor (perhaps) in the form of a misogynistic van driver who describes the attendees of the feminist retreat as having been “bit by a radioactive Tori Amos concert.” Even though I’m in the decided minority on this one since I’ve been to at least a dozen Tori concerts, I did get a chuckle from the sheer wrongness of his attempted insult.
Maw most certainly is going to be a title to watch over the next several months, doubtless it will be a horrific and uncomfortable read but ultimately an interesting one.
Let’s All Go To The Movies
As of this writing, I’m allegedly…finally…going back to the movies to see Shang Chi on Wednesday. It’s entirely possible I’ll hit the eject button and NOT go at the last second even though I’m fully vaccinated. There aren’t many mask mandates present in my state and most businesses have adopted a fairly limp-dick approach to requiring customers to mask up. It’s a “gentle suggestion” to wear one and the anti-mask/anti-vax crowd are f
everishly masturbating celebrating their personal freedoms over not having to do either.
A few weeks back I shared that I got “yelled” at by a coward over wearing a mask as I was headed into a restaurant and in that same petty spirit that possessed him to mouth off to me, I opted to pay it forward the next chance I got. My local comic shop never stopped requiring masks for customers, as is their right as a privately owned business. I could punch down and make jokes about comic collectors being filthy people but that’s some Big Bang Theory shit and that gag was almost dead until that show knuckled down on it for…twelve seasons?!?
The truth is that all people, generally, are gross. I worked in an office for years and after seeing who did and did not wash their hands after a trip to the mensroom was more than enough to kill any lingering embers of hope I had for the human race. In brief, I’m not here for your shit, wear a mask or hit the fucking bricks.
After collecting my books I was on my way out of my friend’s comic shop and their mask requirement is clearly posted on the front door. Outside a couple of teens were mulling over coming in and one motioned to the sign about masks, the other gestured dismissively and opted to pull his t-shirt over his nose as if protecting himself from a particularly rank fart. I think we all know how effective that is.
I was emboldened with the power of a thousand Clint Eastwoods as I made my way out, stopping to tell them, “Hey, masks are required they have a box right by the door, quit dicking around and get on it.” The national anthem swelled triumphantly as I marked proudly by them. Several women and men fell in love with me and my heroic nature. Historical Jesus Christ appeared to me and nodded in approval.
Most of what happened after what I said to those no-good teens above isn’t true. I’ll leave it up to you to decide which. Since I was born at the tail end of Generation X the ability to straight up not give a fuck has been hardcoded in my DNA but I never thought I would see the day where not caring was going to become a national pastime. All I want to do is go see an MCU movie on a screen larger than god but the overwhelming amount of people out there refusing to fix a problem that’s pretty goddamn easy to fix is getting in the way of that.