11/24/14 - Big !@#$ Black Friday Book Bonanza 2014

Well, it's that !@#$ing time of year again, son. Time to round up the relatives, set the !@#$ table, place your bets on who's going to start a fight over the !@#$ing Lions game, and make so much !@#$ food that you got enough to feed everyone leftovers until the middle of !@#$ing December.

Thanksgiving, we like to call it. A uniquely American holiday, unless you're from Canada, in which case !@#$ you, ours is better. Because I said so. And poutine doesn't go well with turkey, anyway.

Anyway, it's kind of a subdued Thanksgiving for us, here at Casa del SPYGOD, due to being under !@#$ing house arrest and all. Just me, my man, my cat, and those two stupid !@#$ers outside who insist on checking everything that goes in and out.

As a result. I can't guarantee the turkey we whistled up from the !@#$ing Chinese butcher down in on 4th is going to be in great shape when it comes through the door. But as soon as they realize it's still alive, mutated, frothing at the mouth rabid, and armed to the !@#$ teeth, they might not be in such great shape, either.

(We chase the !@#$ turkey around the kitchen with cleavers, hack it to !@#$ing pieces, and then sew it back together, stuff it with wild herb and mushroom stuffing, and baste it with !@#$ing whiskey. Don't quibble until you try some, son. It's just how we do things here.)

Others have more prosaic traditions.

But we'll be having a !@#$ good time, here. There will be food and fun and laughter and joy and a whole lot of !@#$ing dishes to wash. We'll enjoy my psychotic grandmother's garlic and lemon green beans, my lover's special thai creamy mashed potatoes with green curry gravy, and a pumpkin pie that even Joe Stalin could use to !@#$ing bribe his way out of Hell.

(Meanwhile, the cat will be contributing kitchen mayhem, followed by demon hairballs, sad looks during the long cooking process, and the ability to !@#$ing scarf everything down in less than a !@#$ minute if we turn our backs for that long. !@#$ing beast.)

And don't despair about that silly trial, coming up. We might be spending Thanksgiving here, but I have no !@#$ing intention of being here for Christmas. And that's all I'll !@#$ing say about that. For now...

But once Thanksgiving is over, there's the next day to consider. I'm sure you know what I'm !@#$ing talking about, too. Black Friday, in which your friends and neighbors suddenly decide that all those years of borrowing one another's !@#$ing lawn mower is not as !@#$ing important as getting their hands on the Cabbage Patch doll before you do.

"Give us to your children. Your precious, little children. We will show them things you can't explain. For Satan."

Now, it !@#$ing occurred to me that, since you're going to be out !@#$ing shopping, you might want to think about getting people some !@#$ing excellent comics. And while this is the season for them to be putting out all kinds of huge hardcovers, special packages, and other such things, there's also a lot of really good !@#$ that won't cost you a god!@#$ arm and leg.

So rather that spend time talking about one thing you might want to get the comic reader in your family, I'm going to tell you about a whole bunch of them. I can't do an in-depth review of !@#$ing everything that comes out, after all. And there's some really !@#$ good stuff that I just flat out missed, this year.

In some !@#$ing semblance of non-order, then...

Hey, wasn't it just the other week that I was !@#$ing going on about how !@#$ing good 100 Bullets was? Well, just our luck, Azzarello and Risso were kind enough to jump back into the !@#$ saddle for eight issues of more inspired mayhem, murder, and morality, starring our favorite villain.

 100 Bullets: Brother Lono (DC Vertigo) picks up the story some time after the climax of that series, and finds our "hero" lurking south of the border, in a town where the most horrific !@#$ imaginable goes on. But amazingly enough, he's not a part of it. After narrowly escaping death, he's on the straight and narrow, now, and helping out at a church of all places. But when the !@#$ starts coming down, how long can he hold back before the monster he's been starts coming to the surface again?

And what will !@#$ing happen when it does...?

This limited series brought it all !@#$ing home for me, and acts as a perfect epilogue of sorts for the whole series. The writing's top notch, as always, the art is as amazing as ever, and there's stuff in here that will make your heart stop beating. A fitting tribute for the man we all loved to !@#$ing hate.

So, have you been !@#$ing loving Superior Spider Man as much as I do? Hating it? Not !@#$ing sure? Well, regardless of how you felt about Peter Parker being a !@#$ ghost in his own body while Doctor Octopus called the shots, you will want to get your !@#$ing hands on the new series, in which Peter is back and better than ever!

Unfortunately, Pete's got some big !@#$ 'splaining to do. You see, while Doc Oc was in control, his being overwhelmed by Parker's memories made him want to try and be a !@#$ing superhero. He just had a really !@#$ing... unique way of going about it. So Peter's got to explain the dead criminals, the army of mercenaries, Spider Island, and all the lies he told all the people he loved and cared about. Including people Doc Oc was in love with, but Peter has no idea about. 

And wait until Black Cat gets back on her feet, as the Superior Spider Man put a beatdown on her she's not going to !@#$ing forget or forgive anytime soon...

The new series starts with Amazing Spider Man: The Parker Luck (Marvel), and it's a great continuation of the amazing !@#$ing work Dan Slott's been doing on this title for the past few years.

Another gem that came out this year was a magnificent collection of Warren Ellis' run on The Authority (DC): a superhero story that took the genre-expanding stuff Ellis had been doing on Stormwatch, kicked it up and down a !@#$ing wall, and then left it somewhat debased but happy for the experience.

Here's the deal, son. Stormwatch is in ruins, having fallen victim to the hubris of the Weatherman, as well as the carnage of what may be the worst !@#$ing crossover ever. So it's up to Jenny Sparks and a number of other heroes she's collected before and after the whole !@#$ing thing came down to stand up and save the world. But if they're going to save it, it !@#$ well better be worth saving, which means they're going to be a little more proactive than some would like.

Ellis takes the action cinematic, and Bryan Hitch's art is top notch, but what really stands out is how this comic !@#$ing takes no prisoners, and pulls no punches. Future writers tried to carry on the legacy from these 12 issues, including tackling the "save the world from itself" idea Sparks threatened, but never got it as good as these were, either in spirit or execution. You could be forgiven for pretending that the series just ended here, except that Mark !@#$ing Millar and Frank god!@#$ Quitely got involved after that, and... well, you can make up your own !@#$ mind about that.

But this, here? It belongs on your shelf, along with Watchmen, Maus, and Sandman: stories that took the medium as we understood it and did something !@#$ing different with them. Buy it, savor it, and then understand why some of us snort and laugh when a bunch of heroes try to change the !@$# world.

Because Warren Ellis already !@#$ing went there, and did it perfectly. So there.

Who's Blacksad? Oh, son. Sometimes I despair. Truly. *sigh*

Okay, try this on for size. Imagine someone was going to !@#$ing tell a no-punches-pulled story of a 1950's semi-hardboiled private eye. But imagine that they were going to do this anthropomorphic style, with a grimy, gumshoe world full of animals. And imagine it was going to have the feel of good, early 80's Heavy Metal, only a lot more hopeful and soulful than most of the stories you read there?

Well, that's Blacksad -- John Blacksad to you. And in this third collection (Blacksad: Amarillo {Dark Horse}) he's trying to !@#$ing to get his head back on straight after some really bad !@#$ went down. On a whim, he takes a "case" of driving some rich guy's car back to Texas, but things get really !@#$ complicated real !@#$ing quick when some beat writer on the run steals the car. And when the writer does something bad using it, well... all kinds of trouble comes John's way.

As !@#$ing usual.

I'm not !@#$ing telling you any more than that. All I will say is that these comics are utterly charming, in a hardboiled noir kind of way, with characters you'll love and love to hate, a moral center that shines through (however grimy) and some really !@#$ good art. Any time one of these gets translated and sent over to this side of the pond, I !@#$ing cheer. Get someone Amarillo and read through it first, and you'll see why. You'll even get one for yourself.

Now, while I did say that we'd be trying to go !@#$ing easy on your wallet, here, there's an important !@#$ exception, here. DC Vertigo has been kind enough to put the entirety of Grant Morrison's epic, genre-breaking run on Doom Patrol into omnibus format. And while you might want to scream abuse at the big !@#$ price tag ($150 American) I can guarantee you that, just like the Invisibles one they did a couple years ago, this is money well spent.

Why? Well !@#$, son, where have you been? This is where Grant showed us that he could take the deconstruction he did on Animal Man a step further, turning a seminal but strangely unpopular team of hard luck heroes into a monthly event. Surrealism and superheroes reached an apex in this well-done series, and also showed us the meaning of "deceptively funny," where you laugh one minute and they cry like a little kid the next. And rightly so.

Often imitated, never duplicated, and something everyone should read. That's Morrison's run on Doom Patrol. Gamble one and a half franklins and then tell me I'm wrong. 

Speaking of superhero teams you never heard much about, remember the backwards, evil "heroes" from Earth Whateverthe!@#$? You know, Ultraman, Superwoman, Power Ring, Johnny Quick... those cackling twerps whose attempts to take us over always !@#$ing failed because they just couldn't overcome our world's natural laws, any more than we could take over theirs?

(According to Grant Morrison, anyway, but I'll !@#$ing buy that for a dollar.)

Well, if you wondered why the !@#$ Geoff Johns set up certain things the way he did, when DC did the New 52 reboot, and why certain seemingly-stupid-as-!@#$ storylines went on as long as they did, if at all, it's so they could drop Forever Evil on us. An epic story of transplanar invasions, evil heroes, and villains doing the right thing for the wrong reasons, this is going to go down as one of the shining moments of the new era in DC comics, and its fallout has yet to really reach the end. Chock !@#$ing full of surprises, thrills, and scares, along with some really heartrending moments, this is a modern classic you need to pick up.

Remember the Illuminati? Those powerful stalwarts of the Marvel universe who decided they were going to get together, in secret, to solve the really big !@#$ problems of the world? And remember how, when they first got together, Black Panther not only declined their invitation, but also told them they were going to regret this? And remember how he was !@#$ing right?

Well, I sure as !@#$ do. And that's why it's super-ironic that, when he literally stumbles across a truly terrifying threat to the entire !@#$ing multiverse -- one exploding Earth at a time -- T'Challa does the one thing he said not to do, and assembles what's left of the Illuminati to gather in Wakanda and deal with this matter.

The series is New Avengers. The first collection is Everything Dies. And this is one of the best Marvel series going, right now, as it really puts our movers and shakers into a !@#$ing bad situation. For in order to save our Earth, the other Earth must be destroyed. And not all of them are uninhabited...

Brutal, cosmic, and mindblowing. That's what Hickman brings to the table. Steve Epting's art is top notch, here, too. And, with the news that we're getting a Black Panther movie, this would be perfect to give someone to explain why this is a !@#$ good thing, as it shows T'Challa in all his strengths and complexities. Especially when he has to deal with that !@#$er Namor.

Yes, this series has been going on for a while. You should already be !@#$ing getting it every !@#$ month, for !@#$'s sake, and I shouldn't have to tell you !@#$ing why.

(Space opera done right, son. A perfect synthesis of story and art. Great characters and a universe that just keeps getting more interesting. A man and a woman from opposing sides in a long !@#$ war, their child, and the strange family they've accumulated. A spaceship made from a !@#$ing tree. I mean, come on...)

But I have some good news, just in time for holiday shopping. Thanks to Image, you can get the first 18 issues in Saga Book One, which would be a great way to get someone the big !@#$ gift that this series truly is in their hands. It would also look handsome on your big !@#$ comics shelf, and give your issues and TPBs a real break.

So please look for this and put it in someone's hands. With a big red bow. And the understanding that once they read it, you won't see them for a few days, and then they'll want to go to the comic store and put this on their !@#$ing pull, like now. 

You're welcome.  

And you thought your superpower was !@#$ weird? Well, here's a new one for you: post-coital time stoppage.

Yes, you read that right. When our main character has sex, the world literally stands still for her. Normally, she just considers this a !@#$ing nuisance, but one could get up to all kinds of hi-jinx if one was so disposed.

And when comes the day she meets another person who has the same power. Which is cool in a lot of ways, except that he's been doing things with his extra time. And when an economic crunch happens, and some money needs to be made, well... wouldn't you go be naughty?

Maybe. But there are others just like them. Somehow they know who they are and what they're up to. And they've been doing this dirty !@#$ a lot longer than our heroes, and know more tricks...

It's Sex Criminals: Vol 1: One Weird Trick (Image). It's a great, human story from Matt Fraction, excellent art from Chip Zdarsky, and an excellent tale of sexual awakening, power and responsibility, and just plain getting off that I've read in a long while, if !@#$ing ever.

Speaking of anthropomorphics, here's one of the best.

Usagi is a rabbit ronin in feudal Japan, trying to make his way through a dangerous world, avenge his fallen master, and regain his honor. It's an amazing saga, full of hope and heart, and while the art may be cute, it is not a kid's story. In fact, it can get really !@#$ing dark, which is why the art acts as such a counterpoint to the goings-on.

Sold yet? Well, you !@#$ing well should be. Stan Sakai is a national treasure, and should be feted and applauded at all turns for having put this great work out for all those years. Do us all a favor and put Usagi Yojimbo Saga 1 (Dark Horse) in someone's hands this season. You will not be sorry. 

* * *

And I would also be remiss in my duties if I didn't remind you that Marvel has been kind enough to reprint Miracleman by Alan "The Original Writer" Moore and diverse !@#$ing art hands. So if you spent all those years wondering when Todd McFarlane, Neil Gaiman, and !@#$ knows who else were going to end their massive tug-of-war over the properties and actually let us get this comic back out there? Well, now it is. And you can get A Dream of Flying and The Red King Syndrome in hardcover, along with a bunch of other cool !@#$ Moore did alongside those works.

Why is this a big deal? Well, other than it's been OOP since Eclipse went !@#$ing belly-up all those years ago, it's the first time Alan Moore really went ape!@#$ on the hero genre, with amazing results. Squint your eyes and you can see the DNA of Dr. Manhattan, Swamp Thing, and a number of other characters and works Moore did later. Or just !@#$ing enjoy this epic rumination on what it really means to be a god in a world of men, and how such a being should act when push comes to !@#$ing shove.

Other than that? Have a good and safe Thanksgiving, and we'll see you back here next week.

And whatever you do? Don't forget to get these comics at your local comic store. They would really appreciate your business, this season.

11/18/14 - 100 Bullets Book One (DC/Vertigo)

I've been playing this big !@#$ spy game for a long !@#$ing time, now, son. I've seen things you wouldn't !@#$ing believe, been places you've never even thought of, met people you never !@#$ing heard of, and done some things you really don't want to !@#$ing know about.

And that's just before breakfast, most days. 

So if there's one thing I can say with some degree of truth (other than trust no one, don't bring a knife to a !@#$ing gunfight, never trust your handler any further than you could spit his !@#$ing corpse, and do not eat the house special if you can't speak the language) it's that while it's true that the one thing more dangerous than a foreign agent is a turned agent, it's also true that a rogue agent is ten times as !@#$ing dangerous than the two of them put together.

Why? Well, consider this.

Your average foreign agent? He's either a fixture in the embassy, pretending to be a !@#$ secretary's secretary, or else hiding in a !@#$ing rented office, somewhere, pretending to be part of some new foreign business getting set up a stones' throw from some government building. In either case, they spend their day getting the morons they promised money, a new life, and a !@#$ lap dance with someone from !@#$ing Baywatch to do what they want, but otherwise they're as useless as !@#$s on a horse, unless you're into that sort of thing.

And some of you clearly !@#$ing are.

Tradecraft? Some, obviously. But he doesn't do hardcore superspy James Bond !@#$ because he knows he'll get !@#$ing caught, unless he's obscenely lucky. The most cloak and dagger he'll do is set up clandestine talks with his Harolds, arrange a dead-drop, and be ready to burn the whole site and arrange to have his stooges capped by some really scary gorilla of a cleaner if the situation goes nose down and butt up, right into a sea of !@#$.

And your average turned agent? Well, yeah, they're dangerous because they have all the !@#$ing toys, know where the bodies are buried, and can fix !@#$ to happen the way their new paymasters want things to go. But in the end, they're playing a really !@#$ dangerous game, serving two masters they can't let know about each other. This hamstrings their effectiveness quite a bit, as you might !@#$ing imagine.

Once voted "most likely to get !@#$ing caught"

But let's consider the rogue agent, for a bit.

Supposing someone decides, for whatever !@#$ reason, that they're going to take all the knowledge, know-how, and resources at their disposal to go do things they want to do, for reasons of their own? Supposing they do missions their way, and get results, but don't tell their bosses all the !@#$ that really went down because they have their own agenda? Supposing they don't have to share that agenda with a foreign power that's got its own agenda, unless getting into bed with them was the idea all along?

And supposing this self-serving !@#$ goes on for years, maybe even decades, before they drop the mother of all !@#$ing mikes behind them as they slink out the back door, never to be seen again?

Oddly enough, he looks nothing like Sam Neill

Someone like that is massively dangerous, son. At least a foreign agent can be uncovered, depantsed, and either sent back home or vanished. At least a turned agent can be uncovered when the stories get a little too !@#$ing thin on one or both sides, and dealt with accordingly. But if you've got someone who knows how the system works, and makes it work for them so !@#$ing skillfully that no one has any !@#$ idea that they're crooked?

Well, you could be in for a lot of bad !@#$ in your face when the fan finally starts to go around. And that's all I'm going to say about that, at least not without a big !@#$ing drink in my hand.

But while I do have such a drink within reach, let me tell you one more thing. And that's that the only thing more dangerous than a rogue agent is a rogue agent that everyone thinks is !@#$ing dead.

"That sounds like my cue to come into this review..."

And on that note, let me introduce you to Agent Graves, and then tell you why 100 Bullets was one of the best graphic novels about a rogue agent that I've ever !@#$ing read.

He's !@#$ old, he's well-dressed, and he has steel in his !@#$ing eyes. He reminds you of an old pair of shoes that still work, in spite of all the years, but that you're sort of afraid to wear. And he has a commanding presence, a keen turn of phrase, and the best come-on line you may ever hear: "How would you like to kill someone and get away with it?"

Now, that might not mean a whole !@#$ of a lot to you. But supposing you're someone who had a life, and lost it? Supposing you're someone who has a massive !@#$ing injustice perpetrated upon you, and can't get back up to where you were because what's stacked against you is too tall to climb, and too connected to touch? What if you got screwed by unseen forces, and had to deal with the bad hand you got !@#$ing handed?

And then suppose you are given a briefcase, containing incontrovertible evidence of how you got done wrong, and who did it to you? Supposing also that this briefcase contained a gun, and 100 bullets? And supposing that no matter what you did with those bullets, no police or federal agency could contain or control you for more than a day or so, and they'd just let you go, all charges dropped?

"What do you do? What do you do?"

That's how this all starts. But as you read through the stories in this first, reprinted volume of the series, it soon becomes clear there is lot more going on that some urban Santa Claus handing out revenge instead of toy cars, this Christmas.

A metric !@#$-ton of a lot more.

Because, as we meet the same characters from story arc to story arc, and we find out more and more about this secret, ultra-powerful world that has been existing right behind ours, all this time, it becomes clear that all this !@#$ is connected.

Graves isn't just handing out justice to people who got !@#$ed over. He's got a grand design in mind, and if ordinary people get used to make it happen, well... !@#$ it, and !@#$ them.

"No need to ask / He's a smooth operator."

That, in a nutshell, is 100 Bullets, and, at last, DC/Vertigo is re-releasing it, the same way they're doing with Swamp Thing, Lucifer, and Preacher -- putting out larger trade paperbacks that combine at least two (or one and a half) of the old format TPs. Which means everyone who missed out on this modern crime/conspiracy/intrigue classic can pick up 100 Bullets Book One, and finally see what all the !@#$ fuss is about. And those who sold their comics for beer money when they were young, stupid, and didn't know any !@#$ing better can finally redeem themselves.

So what can you look forward to? Well, I could tell you about the compelling characters, the heroes that aren't good and the villains that you love to hate, and the politico-criminal empire at the center of it all, but that would be !@#$ing telling.

But let me break it down for you, SPYGOD style:

1) The Storytelling.

Yes, son, I normally say "the writing." But Brian Azzarello has put this story together so !@#$ well I'm going to !@#$ing call it by its rightful name.

You see, any schmuck with a looming deadline can throw together a !@#$ing issue and then go on to the next one, the next one, and the next one after that. But there are a few people who can actually make a big !@#$ plan, some time in advance, and have it play out, month after month, so that all the pieces fit when you look back at it. And !@#$ing seamlessly at that.

What you get from all that work is a series that, while one got the feeling it went on a chapter or two too long, never ceased to amaze or puzzle. We stayed !@#$ing riveted as the plot thicked, and the pieces of Graves' invisible plan came together, flew apart, and remade themselves on the go. We were happy to see the bit players become major players, grow from their experiences, and grow on us readers. And while it seemed to take !@#$ing forever for the long-awaited final showdown to happen, it went down the only way it could, and rightly so.

And as for the villains, well, it's got plenty, and sometimes you don't know whether to cheer them on, weep for them, hope they got their clocks shot out, or all three at !@#$ing once.

And he ain't being !@#$ing metaphorical, son.

2) The Art

Eduardo Risso is a !@#$ing genius, son, and that's pretty much all there is to it. He brilliantly captured what this whole !@#$ing story was about for all those years, consistently getting better as he went along.

His layouts were well constructed, so that one frame seamlessly slid into another. His characterization was !@#$ing flawless, so that you only needed to take one look at the way he drew someone to know what they were all about. And he made every panel a !@#$ing crime noir party.

Not convinced, yet? Well, this is all that needs to be said:

You wouldn't argue with a high-rolling, smooth-talking mega-mobster with a gun, would you?


3) The Worldbuilding

Does this fall under storytelling? Maybe, maybe not. But the more you read this work, the more you come to be !@#$ing amazed at how much time Azzarello put into it.

It's like he figured out ahead of time what to tell us at every step of the way. We were informed in little pieces, but still kept aware that there was just so much we didn't know. And that kept us at the edge of our !@#$ing seats for each new revelation as Graves' twisted plan swept up, or aside, all these pieces of human wreckage that we came to love or hate, sometimes both.

Put it this way, son: as the story started to drag, several chapters down the way, I still had to !@#$ing know who someone was to whom, what was going on between them, and what that might mean in the larger picture, much less the final !@#$ing act. And I kept coming back, month after month, needing to know more.

Can you say anything better about a story? I !@#$ing think not.

SPYGOD's Verdict: Three mother!@#$ing thumbs up for the stunning, first act of a compelling, well-structured crime/conspiracy story that takes all the old noir conventions and turns either turns them on their ear or jacks their volume up to "earthshaking." The art is nothing less than amazing, the characters run deeper than you know, and the invisible connections between them all will have you re-reading this to see what you missed the first, second, and third times around. Truly excellent work.

100 Bullets Book One -- get the trade paperback at your local comic store!

10/14/14 - The Best American Comics 2014 (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt)

Alright, son. Let's have a !@#$ing moment of silence, here, as one of the high points of the year has finally !@#$ing arrived. 

What, my shipment of Martian cocaine finally !@#$ing arrived? Son, that's every !@#$ week. This is a much more important event, heralding two things. 

The first being that, once again, we're !@#$ing acknowledging that American comics are reaching the point where they're being considered worthy of critical notice, as opposed to !@#$ you read on the !@#$er, or that your mom tosses in the trash the moment you !@#$ing go to college, provided you don't spend those years living in her !@#$ basement eating pizza, playing Warcrack, and not !@#$ing getting any. 

(And when she finally kicks your fat !@#$ out, they get tossed, anyway, so get a !@#$ing storage space, son. You'll thank me, later.)

I'm just the !@#$ing messenger, son. Don't hate me.

And the second? Seeing what's really !@#$ing good about a particular year's worth of American comics, broken down by actual experts in the !@#$ field. And that would be actual !@#$ing writers and artists {or writer/artists} rather than high-handed academic types who are probably all !@#$ing commies, trying to get you to read Marxist !@#$ that'll make your brains leak out your !@#$ ears. 

So what's this big !@#$ event that's got me so !@#$ing excited, son? The Best American Comics, that's what! All those great and worthy strips, stories, web comics, and installments, proudly standing alongside such things as mystery stories, American essays, travel writing, and (my guilty-as-!@#$ pleasure) Nonrequired Reading. 

(There's short stories and sports writing too, but who gives a !@#$. Wake me up when William S Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson come back from the dead, steal a car, eat mescaline-soaked cockroaches off a clown's raging !@#$, and tag-team a second person narrative about !@#$ing covering the !@#$ Superbowl for USA Today, or something. I'm not too !@#$ picky.)

Together, they fight crime. And sobriety. 

Now, for 2014, we got ourselves a real !@#$ing humdinger, son. For one thing, they have a new series editor: Bill Karatopoulos, who's got the !@#$ing chops and the attitude to prove that he's the one for this job -- go check out his website if you don't !@#$ing believe me. No offense to anyone who's had the pleasure of heading this !@#$ing insane juggling act before, but this is the sort of person we need on this title.

And this year he's joined by the one and only Scott McCloud, who some of us actually !@#$ing remember from Zot! but most of you probably know from such important things as Understanding Comics, Reinventing Comics, and Making Comics -- three works that should be on the !@#$ing shelves of every serious comics fan, and are god!@#$ essential to understanding sequential art as a proper, bonefide art form, as opposed to something you read on the !@#$ !@#$er and... well, we !@#$ing talked about that already.

How do I love these works? Well, let's do things a little !@#$ing backwards, today, son -- SPYGOD Style. 

1) It Shows Me Things I am !@#$ing Glad to See

It's always good to !@#$ing pick one of these up, look through the !@#$ table of contents, and see that this year's guest editor agreed with me on some very !@#$ing important things. McCloud makes a joke about how if Chris Ware, Charles Burns, or Daniel Clowes puts something out in any given year, you can bet your !@#$ it'll turn up in the appropriate Best American Comics, and this time they got !@#$ing two out of three.

"Next time, Inspector Gadget... next time... Muhhahahah"

But aside from (two of) those three gentle, totally !@#$ed-up giants of American comics, there's lots of other things that got printed in that same timeframe (Sept 1st, 2012 to August 31st, 2013) that, having !@#$ing read them, I deeply dug, and hoped to see honored. And this is my reward to myself for having had such excellent !@#$ing taste -- seeing that the likes of Scott McCloud agreed with me. 

(Yes, it's somewhat masturbatory, son, but !@#$ you. I take this !@#$ seriously.)

2) It Shows Me Things I !@#$ing Missed

SPYGOD reads a lot of !@#$ing comics. And SPYGOD knows all. But even SPYGOD does not have the !@#$ing time to read, or be exposed, to every single !@#$ing piece of comic art that tumbles out of America in any given year. The massive explosion of web comics alone makes that !@#$ing impossible, even for someone like me.

(And then there's the issue of whether I !@#$ing understand that what I'm seeing is a !@#$ing comic, and not just some weird thing I ran across online. We'll get into that when we talk about the Kuiper Belt.)

So reading something like Best American Comics is an eye-opener in more ways than one. It constantly exposes me to amazing new !@#$ that I wouldn't have !@#$ing known about unless I saw it there. In that sense, it operates like a lot of modern art magazines: you don't know for sure if that giant !@#$ing toilet you saw walking down the street the other week was a hallucination, a new supervillain, some performance piece gone awry unless you know the right people, or just an out-of-season Halloween costume. But if you don't know the right !@#$ people, and don't happen to go to certain !@#$ galleries, the only !@#$ way you're going to learn about that artist's lonely cry against the widespread enslavement and degradation of our porcelain brothers and sisters is if you !@#$ing read something about it.

"Today, 5th Avenue. Tomorrow, MOMA. Suck it, !@#$es!"

And that's what Best American Comics does for me, every !@#$ing year.

3) It !@#$ing Exists, Period

Just that, son. But let me quote Kartalopoulos at length:

"Comics are fortunate to have been included in the Best American series for a number of reasons. For one thing, Comics' ongoing inclusion in a larger project that also recognizes outstanding short fiction, essays, and more reaffirms comics' important and coequal status among culturally significant literary forms. Additionally, while networked technology has wonderfully democratized expressions of opinions, taste, and critical analysis ... the Best American Comics, by virtue of its careful process, lush presentation, and visibility, articulates a particularly forceful notion of critical distinction that, at its best, can elevate the field."

Which is a fancy way of saying "You made it. This is proof. Now go make more art."

* * *

Now, as for the overall presentation? This year was especially !@#$ing excellent. I loved having Jaime Hernandez on the cover, and I was thrilled as whipped otter !@#$ to have Raina Telgemeier do the endpapers as, essentially, a perfect two-panel story that's both emblematic of her work and the series as a whole. (When you read it, you'll see what I !@#$ing mean.)

I also really liked how McCloud divided the !@#$ book up. Rather than have one, primary introduction, followed by the selections, which is how just about everyone does it*, he broke the selections down into logical subsections, and then put a separate introduction for each section. So we get a short introduction, followed by smaller pieces for such things as Great Comics are Not a Genre, Memory Boxes, Family Tree, Strange Adventures, and (my favorite name for my least-favorite kind of work) The Kuiper Belt.

And then we have the entries, themselves. Keep in mind that, as you may have !@#$ing noticed by now, I have my own strong opinions on this !@#$. So what they liked, I might not like, and if I don't mention one of your favorite !@#$ing things, well, don't cry. It's in there, after all. 

(And what the !@#$ do I know, anyway?)

Don't shoot, Rob. Someday I'll like your new stuff. Really.

What I am Glad to See:

The Hive, Charles Burns: 

Jesus !@#$ing Christ, son. What else is there to !@#$ing say about this, especially now that Burns has completed this trilogy with the publication of Sugar Skull? The selection they chose for this book really highlights the jumbled-up nature of the narrative -- showcasing the pervasive, thick-as-!@#$ sense of dread that this whole series had leaking from its pores like surreal !@#$ing pus. You probably !@#$ing knew it was going to make it in here, but this portion helps show why. 

Saga, Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples:

At last, an honor worthy of this superior title! If you've been digging Saga all along, I'm sure you'll agree that this portion -- a darkly humorous take on the age-old ritual of meeting the parents -- is as good a piece as any to showcase the writing and art on this work. And if you haven't been reading it, this excerpt from issue 7 will hopefully sell you on the concept. Go grab the first trade paperback and tell 'em SPYGOD !@#$ing sent you. 

Crime Raiders International Mobsters and Executioners, Jaime Hernandez:

You didn't know Love and Rockets was back? Well !@#$, son, where the !@#$ have you been hiding? This story from #5 has all the hallmarks of this brother Hernandez: winsome but !@#$ed-up ladies and gentlemen in search of a better !@#$ situation, who often make bad choices for good reasons (and vice !@#$ing versa), starring in storylines that intersect at weird !@#$ angles and lead to states of emotional, social, and legal confusion. Jaime says he does his best to avoid letting things turn into genre pieces? Read this and you'll see a master of !@#$ing unclassifiable masterpieces at work.

This is me getting you to read Love and Rockets. Don't make me get the gun.

Drama, Raina Telgemeier:

How do you follow up on something as astoundingly good as Smile? You tell a story about a high school drama club, with all its interpersonal ups and downs, romantic entanglements, moments of sexual confusion and discovery, and tiny victories over life, circumstance, and the fact that The Show Is All. There's sweet and saccharine in this graphic novel, which, while it's aimed at young adults, is one of those works that cuts across age lines and reminds us all of what a !@#$ing sweet nightmare our teenage years could be. Just !@#$ing read it, and grab Sisters while you're at it. 

March, Book One, Rep. John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell:

It's one thing to know that Rep. John Lewis is the last of the American Civil Rights Movement's "Big Six" left alive. It's another to know that, out of everyone who spoke in the 1963 March on Washington -- where Rev. Martin Luther King gave his "I Have a Dream" speech -- he's the only one still walking the Earth. But when I read this piece of his ongoing biographic work (Part 2 comes out January 2015), and saw his first meeting with MLK, as a young man wanting to help desegregate a college? Goosebumps, son -- all the way up and down my @#$ back. That and sadness as I read further, and saw that, when he got home, his parents just didn't dare help him with that part of the journey, for fear of what might happen to their home, their work, and their lives if word got around that their son was causing so much trouble.

It was reading a comic book that got him here, believe it or not.

Some people like to !@#$ing forget that, within a human lifetime, this kind of !@#$ was a concern. Some people want us to forget, because they really don't want to talk about its lasting consequences. And some people think that racism doesn't still impact lives all over the nation. !@#$ them. Read March.

Depression Part 2,  Hyperbole and a Half:

What? You haven't been reading this webcomic? Shame on you, son. In addition to being funny as !@#$, it's also filled with the kind of naked honesty you usually only get to hear after someone's had one !@#$ drink too many, and is about to !@#$ all over the bar, shoot the ceiling lamps out, and confess to having shot Abraham Lincoln with time-bullets. And no one needs to deal with that kind of !@#$ just to hear a raw, human confession of being broken, and trying to figure it the !@#$ out.

I've known a whole lot of people with depression in my time. This is, bar none, the best !@#$ explanation I've ever heard. I wish I'd read it ages ago. You'll be !@#$ing glad you've read it now, and gladder still that this amazing writer is getting her due in this series.,

Cul de Sac, Richard Thompson:

Yes, it's a re-run of his previous stuff that just happened to fall within those dates. But you know what? As McCloud readily admits, this teensy little movement of the goalposts is worthy, given that Thompson's excellent work has been so cruelly smacked down by !@#$ing Parkinsons. And his work is truly amazing, heart-affirming stuff. For this collection, they chose the final week's worth of strips, along with a final Sunday that brilliantly encapsulates both comics and the strip, itself. Go buy his !@#$ book and see why we are poorer people for not having this strip in the paper every !@#$ day.

I'd also like to mention, in passing, that McCloud did give some love for one of the big two comic companies by recommending Hawkeye, which is done by Matt Fraction and normally drawn by David Aja. Marvel apparently wouldn't allow Best American to feature a snippet in this year's edition, due to legal !@#$ not worthy of mention here**. But I'm sure you can !@#$ing find a copy and read it.

Speaking of finding copies and reading it, we're on to...

What I Want to See More Of:

 ... where I admit I got !@#$ing blindsided by some awesome !@#$ that, having had a little taste, I now must read in its entirety.

Multiple Warheads, Brandon Graham:

Holy sweet Jesus riding a snowflake into Hell with a machine gun! This is, bar none, some of the trippiest, most creative, head-over-heels weird narratives I've seen in some time -- easily an equal to works like Finder, only maybe more screwy. What could just be a long and deadly trip across a surreal and dangerous future landscape becomes an exercise in massive creativity, wordplay, and worldbuilding. There isn't anything in here that wasn't clearly thought out, and crafted to make me !@#$ing want to know more. Excellent !@#$, son. Truly.

I think I got "gold," son.

Translated, from the Japanese, Adrian Tomine:

I've loved Tomine's work since I read Shortcomings on a lark, and went back to find out where this adept chronicler of racial, sexual, and social hangups in an urban setting had !@#$ing come from. This short little piece of storytelling from the diary of a young mother, taking her mixed-race son to America to meet the father, is something new from him, but his eye for people's strange fixations and reasonable concerns that turn toxic over time is here to see. I think I need to get this issue of Optic Nerve. 

"Mom" from Viewotron, Sam Sharpe:

Goofy anthropomorphisms aside, this one really got to me. The story of a man trying to reconnect with his clearly-unwell mother, and how she starts sliding down the crazy stairs in front of him, is sad and haunting. It's one of those pieces where you read it and then really want to know what the !@#$ happened next, but at the same time are kind of !@#$ing afraid to open up that door. You know it's not going to shut well. Not at all.

August 1977, Nina Bunjevac:

This is yet another one where the piece was so !@#$ing amazing that it's still haunting me. Somehow a story about a would-be bomber's last letter to his family (prior to being blown the !@#$ up) is transformed into a crazy-as-!@#$ hallucinogenic critique on a certain, Eastern European country's socio-religious issues, complete with some very strange visuals. And on top of all that, the art is !@#$ing fantastic.

You don't normally get giant doom-hooters at hate rallies.

Hip Hop Family Tree, Ed Piskor

This one's a queer kettle of fish, son. Speaking as someone who was around when the art form came together, this take on it doesn't quite pass the !@#$ sniff test. But then, it isn't really !@#$ing supposed to, either. It's like Rock & Roll Comics meets Love and Rockets, tossing enough true stories and odd anecdotes into the mix while casting the creators and soldiers of Hip Hop as urban heroes trying to keep it real, pay their bills, and not get shanked by their fans. It's a trip, son, and if you're a music fan you need to be on it.

"Canadian Royalty" from Lose, Michael Deforge

McCloud put this in his Even Stranger Adventures section, and that's putting it !@#$ing mildly, son. A brilliantly brutal and surreal exploration of a Canada you didn't know existed, complete with a fully-realized (and totally OTT) royal family, this selection from Lose is like being given a travelogue of an alien world that exists just north of !@#$ing Montana, and apparently has better TV than we do. Deforge clearly needs to pass me what he's using, because this !@#$ is brilliant.

And you think Prince Charles had it bad?

Hyperspeed to Nowhere, Lale Westvind

At last, we find something in McCloud's !@#$ing Kuiper Belt (as in, really far out there in space) that I actually kind of dug. Usually, I can't get excited by really "out there" !@#$ that melts the standards of the art form, rather than allowing the weird to exist within it (or at least play around with it). But this colorful, hyperkinetic work tickled my inner Jack Kirby enough that I was willing to roll with it, and demand more. I'm sure you will, too.

And by now, I think I've !@#$ing talked this thing up enough. I've got some comics to !@#$ing track down, son. And you have a new book you should check out as soon as possible.

Like now.

SPYGOD's Verdict: Three thumbs up for yet another intriguing showcasing of work from old stalwarts, new talent, and faces we don't see nearly enough of. The new series editor is promising, and McCloud's editorial choices are excellent and well-considered. Like any collection, there will be some things that will astound you, others that bore you, and some that simply defy description, but all of them have something to show why they were judged to be The Best.

The Best American Comics 2014 -- Get it at your local comic store!

* That said, they still have yet to beat Lynda Barry's illustrated introduction for the 2008 edition, which was, as with most things she does, sheer !@#$ing genius. And I'm still !@#$ing mad that DC Comics wouldn't let her put Paul Pope's Batman Year 100 in there, because of stupid legal !@#$. !@#$ you, DC -- in the !@#$ nose.

** And !@#$ you too, Marvel. In the other !@#$ nose. 

10/7/14 - Leaving Megalopolis (Dark Horse)

People often !@#$ing ask me what the worst part of my job is. And I have to tell you, son, there's a lot of !@!# I have to do that's pretty !@#$ing sad and disgusting.

Most days I can just grin and !@#$ing bear it until I get home, have them send up Thai food and ladyboys, and then spend the whole !@#$ evening using every mind-altering substance known to man and Mars to !@#$ing nuke my brain good and hard, until I pass the !@#$ out around 4:47 in the god!@#$ AM... and then get up in less than an hour an a half to do it all the !@#$ over again.

!@#$ you !@#$ you !@#$ !@#$ !@#$!!!!

That's most days, son. But then there are days that I have to !@#$ing answer the Black Telephone.

Yes, son. It's a black telephone. It's big, it's heavy, and it's got a rotary dial. And when that !@#$er rings you can hear it all over the god!@#$ B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G. like it was right next to your ear.

If that mother!@#$ing thing is ringing, it means I have to go do the other, much less pleasant part of my !@#$ing job. It means that someone, somewhere, has had the mother of all bad !@#$ing days and finally snapped. Or maybe it means that someone we thought we knew, and could trust, just turned out to have one !@#$ of a dark secret, or had really been bad all along.

And it means that I need to get the largest gun I can !@#$ing find, put on a black rubber dress, and go kill a superhero.

Eh, don't worry. He's an X-Man. He'll be back.

Yes, it's !@#$ing harsh. Yes, it's !@#$ing sad. But you know why I have to !@#$ing do this, son.

See, when ordinary people !@#$ing break, well, maybe they just sit in a ball and cry, and maybe they off themselves. And maybe, if we're really !@#$ing unlucky, they off a few other people before they go.

But when you're dealing with someone who can !@#$ing fly, throw cars like beach balls, and shoot god!@#$ mind-bullets at people three miles away? Well, son, when they break, they tend to break hard, and take a lot of innocent bystanders with them.

And sometimes I get !@#$ing lucky, and we get advanced warning, and we can talk them the !@#$ down before anyone else gets hurt. But the rest of the time? It's me, a clocktower, and the mother of all god!@#$ sniper rifles, waiting for the wind to break just right. 

Because the alternative really !@#$ing sucks for ordinary folks.

I've had to do it exactly thirty-two !@#$ing times, over the years. I can tell you the names, dates, and exact times I've pulled the trigger. The first one was Johnny Appleseed, on December 18th, 1949, at around 3:39 in the PM, California time. And the last one was Rockethand, on May 12th, 2011, at 4:25 in the PM, also California time.

And whenever I have to do it, I take the !@#$ day off, and go to a special room in the B.U.I.L.D.I.N.G that no one !@#$ing knows about but me. I take a nice photo of the person I just turned into a !@#$ing red cloud from the neck up, and put it on the wall with all the others I've done. And I !@#$ing sit there, the rest of the night, and tell them I'm sorry.

And I do it sober, son, because I want it to !@#$ing mean something. Because it does. Because it should. 

So, as you might guess, I'm pretty !@#$ critical when it comes to tales of heroes gone !@#$ing bad. If you're going to go that route, then you !@#$ well better do it right. Don't start off grim and gritty and turn into a !@#$ing self-parody that goes on way too !@#$ long for its own good. But then don't start off slapstick and go all serious with me at the end, either.

And you'd better !@#$ing show these crazed, broken capes some !@#$ing respect for their pain, too.

Who will weep for these insane, homicidal Supers...?

Luckily for all involved (though not surprisingly, given who's involved) Dark Horse's Leaving Megalopolis handles the matter rather !@#$ing well. It asks what would happen if all the capes in a particular city all went ape!@#$ in the same way, and at the same time, leaving ordinary people trapped in their huge !@#$ing playpen of doom.

The answer is not !@#$ing pretty -- not at all. But it's testament to the writer/artist combination that it doesn't turn into a mega-depressing, soulless survival horror bloodbath or a sappy Hallmark afterschool special with dark moments. I'd expect no less from the creative team that brought me Secret Six for all those wonderful years (until the New 52 went and !@#$ed it all up) but, I will admit that, when I heard about this Kickstarter project, I was a little concerned.

But no worries, son. This is how the !@#$ would go down, if it did go down. And hopefully it never will.

The story's pretty !@#$ing straightforward. The city of Megalopolis, once renowned for all its heroes, is now a !@#$ing horror story. Something black and terrible happened, there, one day, and as a result all the superheroes in town have gone bad. And not the camp and cackling, 1970's Superfriends reverse-Earth superman bad, either, either, but !@#$ing sick, Kid Miracleman, homicidal butchery bad.

Welcome to Hell, Son. Buy a !@#$ing postcard.

There are still people, here in Megalopolis. Some have hunkered down and tried to make the best of a really !@#$ing bad situation, and others have done other, less humane things to get by. But while it's pretty !@#$ing obvious that no one can get out, there are those who still !@#$ing try. 

So this is the story of one group: a small band of people who just sort of come together by !@#$ing accident, and decide they've got to make it out of here alive. It won't be easy, especially since they keep gaining and losing people as they go along. But if they can step carefully, stick to the plan, and avoid making too much !@#$ing noise, then maybe they can escape.

But as hard as they think it's going to be? It's going to be even harder. There's nasty surprises around every !@#$ corner, and some things you just won't believe lurking in the shadows. That and there's really no way they can just tiptoe around some of these superpowered freaks.

Worst of all, the biggest threat to the plan may come from within...

So how do I love Leaving Megalopolis? 2.5 Thumbs worth, Son. And let me tell you the ways, SPYGOD Style:

1) The Writing

I'm just going to !@#$ing gush like an 80's gay boy at his first Frankie Goes to Hollywood concert, son. I love, love, love me some Gail Simone. Girlfriend can do no wrong in my eyes, and when she gets a chance to just let the ball drop, you better get the !@#$ out of the way, because she is taking no prisoners.

All that gush aside? What makes Leaving Megalopolis so good for me is the god!@#$ characters. Any schmuck with a general sense of antipathy for humanity and its social structures, and an understanding of how people !@#$ing break under pressure can write survival horror. But it takes someone who !@#$ing understands how people work to make us actually !@#$ing care.

Better still? It takes someone like Gail Simone, who spent several amazing years making us !@#$ing care about god!@#$ Supervillains to ultimately make us feel something for the heroes gone bad, here. And it isn't just what happened to them, either. There's one very telling moment, close to the end, where you'll feel something pull really !@#$ hard on your heart.

(And if you think I'm going to !@#$ing tell you what it is, you're nuts, son. Just !@#$ing read it.)

2) The Art

Doing supers gone bad is a tough !@#$ing thing. You can't be too "super" or it all gets lost in a post-Kirby scrum, but if it winds up looking like the !@#$ing Walking Dead in spandex, something's lost in translation. Things like Marshall Law and the first Marvel Zombies worked because there''s something more than a little "off" about the art, while the art on The Boys works because Darick Robertson goes for a more realistic direction, which supports the grittiness of the story.

So when I say that Jim Calafiore's work reminds me a lot of Robertson's early work on The Boys, before he started easing up on his detail work? I mean that as a high !@#$ing complement. It makes it all work -- allowing for super-powered !@#$ to co-exist along with more gruesome things, and not seem out of place.

"Stick out your tush / wiggle a bit / give it a push / don't be surprised, you're doing the French Mistake!"

Which is really good, because that helps establish...


3) The Situation

No, not that gel-creamed douchebag from that !@#$ing reality show I refuse to say the !@#$ name of, son. I'm talking about the setting. What's happened in Megalopolis since the !@#$ went down. And what's happened outside the city, too, which becomes really !@#$ing important, later.

Like I said, earlier, people break in funny !@#$ ways. Look at what happens in a city under siege in wartime. Look at what happens when people run out of !@#$ing food, for that matter. People turn into !@#$ing animals, just to survive. And that is never !@#$ing pretty.

Leaving Megalopolis has it all. People who !@#$ing prey upon one another. People who decide to worship their oppressors rather than !@#$ing resist them. People who look the other !@#$ way while horrible things happen, because the only alternative is to be made an example of. And people who, in spite of the consequences, decide they've !@#$ing had enough, and try to get out.

Even if it means they're probably going to !@#$ing die, anything would be better than living there.

I've seen this !@#$ happen before, son, and Simone !@#$ing nailed it. And while she doesn't talk enough about what's going on outside of it (the only reason I had to not give this work Three Thumbs up) we get enough to establish that someone out there made some tough, seemingly-inhumane decisions in order to keep the situation from spreading.

Which is what always !@#$ing happens, if anyone has any !@#$ sense.

SPYGOD's Verdict: Two and a half thumbs up for a harrowing but all-too-human tale of what happens when supermen go off the rails and turn a city into a butcher's playpen. Ace storytelling, dead-on character studies, and excellent art choices keep this from turning into another dreary survival horror piece. I want to see more, but I'm kind of afraid to, also.

Leaving Megalopolis - get the hardcover at your local comic store!