Goats: The Corndog Imperative

By Jonathan Rosenberg

There's kind of a formula for a lot of webcomics, especially those that traffic in nerd humor. There's usually a couple of guys who are slackers, but are smart and funny, and sometimes have hot women who inexplicably find them attractive. Maybe some anthropomorphic animals or robots, which are probably violent or evil to give them an "edge". Throw in a bunch of geeky humor about video games or computers, a bunch of swearing, and some ostensibly wacky adventures, and you've got yourself an automatic audience, or so it seems, since this sort of comic abounds online, to the point that it's almost a sort of insular ghetto. Jonathan Rosenberg'sGoats certainly seems to fit the mold, but while it features all of the elements mentioned (and probably initiated a lot of them, considering that it's been running since 1997), it's not content to sit on its laurels and run strip after strip of its characters sitting on a couch and cracking wise about whatever the latest internet fad is. No, Rosenberg has much grander ideas; he's interested in exploring the metaphysical nature of the universe and examining the heart of man through the ages. Or, it's possible that he went insane at some point and launched a lengthy, stream-of-consciousness narrative, throwing whatever bizarre ideas emerged from his fevered brain onto the page and trying to tie them all together with silly jokes and nerd humor. Either way, it makes for a pretty funny strip that's enjoyable for never knowing what's going to happen next.

Of course, starting with this book, the second print volume in the "Infinite Pendergast Cycle", might or might not be the ideal way to experience Rosenberg's vision, but it works pretty well, considering. There's an informative recap to start things off, along with a guide to all the relevant characters, and then you just jump into his crazy world, in which a couple of programmers are in the midst of a multiversal adventure involving the death of God, bugs in the programming code of existence, various demonic, religious, and alien factions vying for control of the laws of reality, and the impending apocalypse. There's a lot of wacky hijinks, but Rosenberg never lets things drag, moving at a steady clip from to wackier and sillier settings and shifting between several plotlines at once. There are also a lot of jokes about drunkenness and deviant sex, a farm-based dimension that has turned into a totalitarian religious cult, a fish/chicken duo trapped in a slug-inhabited backwater dimension, an End User License Agreement that forces one to sign one's soul away, reality-rewriting computers made out of cows and turtles, sentient vegetables, and a brief crossover with the strip Diesel Sweeties.

It's pretty weird, yet also quite enjoyable, probably because Rosenberg actually does seem to be trying to do some interesting stuff with sci-fi ideas (albeit fantastical ones with little basis in reality) in the midst of all the zany one-liners and wacky violence. The art works well enough, although it's kind of standard webcomic stuff, with lots of oval eyes and gaping mouths, although a lot of the non-human creatures and color effects look fairly nice (and it's orders of magnitude better than it was when the strip started). There are certainly worse, less imaginative strips out there. If you're on board for non-stop silliness that rarely goes where expected, this might be for you. Although really, it's only for Rosenberg and the demons haunting his mental landscape; everyone else is just along for the ride.

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In print, the first volume of this storyline, Infinite Typewriters, might be a better place to start reading than this, but you can also read the whole thing online. The Infinite Pendergast Cycle starts here, but Rosenberg recommends new readers start here. Or you could just choose arandom strip and start reading from there. Jumping in at this volume worked well enough for me, so all of those options are probably approximately equal.

-Matthew J. Brady

The Order of Dagonet #1

Written by Jeremy Whitley

Art by Jason Strutz

Hey, how crazy would it be if all those entertainers and celebrities that get knighted by the queen of England actually had to defend the crown? That's the premise of this series, and it seems like a fun idea, especially when you throw in the fact that England is being attacked by creatures from the land of faerie and Merlin is the one who gathers them together, apparently giving them magical abilities or some such. It's a fun idea, and while this first issue is mostly devoted to explaining the premise and rounding up the cast, who include stand-ins for Ozzy Osbourne and Neil Gaiman (with a dash of J.K. Rowling), along with a washed up old Shakespearean actor similar to a less-respectable Ian McKellen or Ben Kinglsey, it's interesting enough to warrant attention.

As for the actual execution, it's not perfect, but that's at least partly due to overambition; the issue is full of interesting layouts, like the first couple pages, which see panels appearing as radio waves emanating from a broadcasting antenna:

Unfortunately, the flow can be confusing at times, but it's usually understandable, at least. And the art style itself is idiosyncratic and unique, looking like it was done with crayons or colored pencils and full of little scribbles of color. Again, it's not perfect and can be a bit confusing, but it's interesting just for being different rather than emulating whatever's popular.

If this first issue is any judge, it should be a series to watch, especially once the plot really gets underway. The creators seem to have a real labor of love here, and hopefully they'll continue to improve and make it something really worth reading.

If you're interested, the issue can be purchased from the book's website.

-Matthew J. Brady

The Anchor #1

Written by Phil Hester

Art by Brian Churilla

Phil Hester might be thought of more as an artist than a writer, but that would be neglecting what is arguably the best work of his career, especially his collaborations with Mike Huddleston,The Coffin and Deep Sleeper. And judging by this issue, The Anchor is another series that should be added to Hester's authorial pedigree. It's one of those action-packed supernatural series, with the hook being that the title character is God's guardian at the gates of Hell, keeping demons from escaping to Earth, while at the same time, he has a physical body on Earth who ends up fighting a giant monster in Iceland in this first issue. It's pretty cool stuff, with some interesting ideas linking the two versions of the character and helping him defeat the monster, and the art by Brian Churilla is really nice, full of ugly demons, expressive characters, and hard-hitting action, and especially making the Anchor looks like a hulking beast of a man, barely intelligent yet massively powerful. It's a nice concept for a comic, and hopefully Hester will continue to build on it and come up with interesting conflicts as the series goes on. In any case, I'm sure Churilla will rise to the occasion and deliver some incredible visuals. Let's make the magic happen, guys!

-Matthew J. Brady

Robot 13: Colossus #1-2

Written by Thomas Hall

Art by Daniel Bradford

When I first saw preview art for this series, I dismissed it as a Mike Mignola ripoff. Having actually read these first two issues, I'll say that said dismissal might have been hasty, but isn't necessarily unwarranted. The story here, about a mysterious, ancient robot (or whatever it is, consisting of a skull in a fishbowl atop a mechanical body) who, having been found in the depths of the ocean, is constantly fighting gigantic monsters, doesn't really have the depth of Mignola's work, but it's entertaining in its own way, and has its own unique variations on the craggy monsters and deep shadows of Hellboy and the like. Actually, it's fairly light stuff, with nothing much happening outside of those monster fights, aside from a flashback/memory at the beginning of the second issue that suggests the robot originated in ancient Greece. But the fights themselves are quite entertaining, offering some comic value from the spindly-limbed automaton going up against a giant octopus in the first issue and a phoenix in the second. And that phoenix allows for some searingly bright colors and high-altitude combat that does make the series pretty unique. So far, it's not an especially deep comic, but it's a fun one, and one that deserves some attention. Give it a look, if you can find it.

You can purchase the issues here, although the first issue appears to be sold out.

-Matthew J. Brady

Robot 13 To Debut on Robot Comics

Apparently 13 is a lucky number in digital comics these days. That's good news for us. Here's a breaking announcement from our friends at Robot Comics:

"Robot 13", the action-horror-mystery series by Blacklist Studios duo Thomas Hall and Daniel Bradford, has received near unanimous acclaim from the comics community, with a sold-out first issue (though an alternate cover edition is still available), and a long list of critical praise – more than we could ever document in a single press release! It was only natural, then, that Robot 13 would seek a whole new level of potential audience on the Apple and Google mobile marketplaces via Robot Comics.

And here's what some folks in the know have to say about the series:

"Fantastic. Phenomenal. Best book I’ve read all year. Hellboy and BPRD fans definitely should not be without this book…and I wonder what it would take for Dark Horse to consider a crossover. This is absolutely must reading and I can’t promote it enough." —Jeff Marsick, Newsarama

This self-published series is just as impressive as the adventures of Hellboy, and does deserve just as wide an audience. I can sum up this series in two words: must buy. —Kris Bather, Broken Frontier

So what's "Robot 13" about?

"R13", or "Robot 13", is the story of a robot who fights mythological monsters. After his body is pulled from the ocean depths off the coast of Spain, R13 is thrust into a series of epic battles with creatures of historical renown. But…why? Could there be a thread connecting these battles? Who is Robot 13 and and where does he originate from? R13 depicts the odyssey of a hero awoken from the ocean floor as he looks for answers to who he really is…and fights a lot of crazy-big monsters while he’s at it.

"Robot 13": Colossus is the first action-packed series of the Robot 13 mythos, written by Thomas Hall and with art by Daniel Bradford. Robot Comics will release "Robot 13" for iPhone, iPod touch and Android mobiles in late 2009. Issue #1 will be offered for free with subsequent issues priced at $0.99 each. Robot 13 was originally published as a print comic book by Blacklist Studios.

—From the Press Release

Stitches

By David Small

It's hard to know what to make of this book, and that's even setting aside the minor controversythat resulted from its nomination for a National Book Award, but only in the "young adult" category (a short response: it doesn't seem like a young adult book, especially considering its fairly sedate pace, but it's not inappropriate either; kids might be able to gain insights about the value of life and the difficulty of family relationships, but they probably won't be all that interested. It certainly seems like more of an adult book than a teen one). David Small is a popular illustrator of children's books, but he has set aside his cute, cheery style for a gloomy, oppressive one here, in a story detailing his troubled childhood, which was weighted down by a closed-off, uncommunicative family and the medical troubles whose results give the book its title. It's a pretty effective tale, and probably one that allowed Small some therapeutic release in its telling, but there are some strange choices, and, as goes the common complaint with so many modern autobio comics, one wonders what the ultimate message is, beyond "Here is what happened during a portion of my life."

Small certainly had a difficult childhood, and he attempts to chronicle that difficulty through showing his parents' strained relationship, his mother's description of her parents' shotgun marriage, his grandmother's poor treatment of him and his mother, and worst of all, the indifference they seemed to show toward him when he had medical problems. That's the hardest part of the book to read; when young David develops a growth on his neck, a doctor colleague of his X-ray technician father recommends having it surgically removed, but for some reason, his parents didn't do so for three and a half years. Early on, his mother gives him a reprimand, saying that they don't have a lot of money, but during that period between diagnosis and treatment, they went on a spending spree, buying cars, boats, furniture, and plenty of other possessions in an apparent attempt to keep up with their richer friends and fit into the materialistic lifestyle of the 1950s. It's a callous display of priorities, and you can't help but feel for poor David, especially as he was too young to really understand any of it. And when he finally does get his surgery, the problem turns out to be worse than expected, adding even more misery to his life. As he grows older and more independent, he turns rebellious and angry, an understandable response to the awful way he had been treated, but no less difficult to watch than anything else he went through. He eventually comes to terms with his life through the help of an empathetic psychologist, and as an adult he gains some understanding of his childhood circumstances, but it's obvious that even fifty years later, he still has plenty of scars.

So, yes, it's an interesting story, but there are plenty of loose ends that never get followed, and Small seems to vacillate between a factual retelling and an attempt to replicate his childhood emotions. He hints at deeper issues with the family and trying to understand his parents' reasons for what they did, but backs away in favor of exploring his own mental state. An afterword apologizes for this slightly, saying that if this had been his mother's story rather than his own, he would have examined her life more closely, but that seems like a cop-out and an excuse for solipsism.

But even in his own narrative, there are paths set up but never taken, including several allusions to Alice in Wonderland that are never fully explained. The first one is obvious, as Small shows how at the age of six, fascinated with Lewis Carroll's book, he would pretend to be Alice, tying a towel to his head in imitation of her long hair and gallivanting around the neighborhood. This led to bullying from other kids who accused him of homosexuality, but Small never explores how any of this affected him, other than prompting him to escape into his artistic creations. Later, he tells of recurring dreams that seem like something out of Alice, in which he explored tunnels in a destroyed church, but never gets around to an explanation or even speculation as to what they might mean; why include them? Finally, the aforementioned therapist is depicted as a huge white rabbit for some reason (maybe because he has a watch that tells when it's time to stop the sessions, or because he refers to Small's life as "curious"). Considering the mostly realistic nature of the rest of the imagery in the book, it's rather odd to drop something like this in and never explain it.

But while the book has its problems, it gets a lot right as well, delivering some impressively evocative imagery and poignant moments. Small's reaction to a harsh revelation in therapy is one of those, as is the scene when he discovers a major secret of his mother's. The artwork is also rather impressive throughout, rarely letting up in its ink-washed gloominess. An early scene in which Small stumbles across a preserved fetus when exploring the hospital where his father works is a great moment, effective evoking the childhood terror that can come from a runaway imagination:

Small's style is especially effective when contrasting the cold, harsh treatment he received from his parents:

With their effusive joy at spending their money on more and more things:

Small does occasionally attempt to depict the world around him during this time, and the occasional page of scenery is also rather arresting, as in this image that makes the signs and decorations on the street seem like ephemeral phantoms:

It's a fascinating contrast between Small's internal emotional state and the status-obsessed world around him, although it's hard to tell if this was the intent or not, since he never elaborates on it.

In the end, it's a dark, harrowing look at a painful childhood, but a positive one. Small managed to escape the multi-generational cycle of anger, inhibition, self-centeredness, and abuse, using his art as a force for good for both himself and others. While his telling of the story isn't perfect, it's still a fascinating tale, and one that's worth reading in hopes of learning from the sins of the past. It would be nice if avoiding those mistakes was easy, but anything that can help do so is something worthwhile, if you ask me.

-Matthew J. Brady

The Deformitory

By Sophia Wiedeman

You've got a girl with sentient claws for hands, a mermaid with octopus tentacles instead of a sexy fish tail, a girl that's a slug from the waist down, a girl with a skeleton body, and several other freaks in the building of the title, a sort of retirement home or sanitarium for abnormals like them, although one suspects that this is all symbolic. Sure, that's kind of obvious, but the question remains what the allegorical content stands for, and the beauty of Sophia Wiedeman's work is that one could come up with several possible interpretations.

The main story in this 46-page Xeric Grant-winning pamphlet follows Dolores, the aforementioned claw-handed girl, who develops her condition after what seems to be a typing-induced bit of carpal tunnel syndrome. Surprisingly, the claws don't bother her too much, especially since they have eyes and speak to her, becoming her friends and confidants. Soon she's having a swell time with them, although the people she encounters find the whole thing kind of gross. The problems start when her claw-hands develop their own independent thought, and start disagreeing with her choices, even becoming violent. She's forced to take drastic action, and while it solves the problem, she ends up losing something that seems precious.

So what's the interpretation here? It seems to me that it's about mental illness, perhaps bipolar disorder. The claw-hands enrich Dolores' life, making her feel like she's got friends and is happy, even though she's separated from the rest of humanity. It feels good, but at some point, it becomes too much to handle, and she gets hurt even worse. She ends up doing something terrible, just as people end up hurting themselves when they feel like there's nothing else they can do. And when the problem gets "solved", she misses the euphoria she felt. It's a sad comment on the way mental illness can ravage one's emotions and leave you scarred for life. Or that's one way to see it, at least. Maybe something like addiction could also be mapped onto the story, or other parts of the human experience. The interesting thing is, Wiedeman managed to capture something universal and relatable here; it's impressive work.

Other stories in the booklet do much the same thing; the octopus girl shows the affect of self-esteem issues, with an amusing twist that shows how eager people are to dish out punishment as well as take it. And a boy who spots a unicorn ends up spending his whole life trying to catch another glimpse of the beast, as so often happens when people can't let go of something that they once experienced. I'm not sure what the cartoony "heart monster" means, but it does make for a cute visual, at least.

Wiedeman's art makes for a good way to deliver this type of story; it seems simplistic, with characters having dots for eyes and minimal expressions, but she fills pages with plenty of dense linework and a gorgeous sense of design, especially in the dark forest and the somewhat fantastical Deformitory. She also does some interesting things with scale, making the island on which that building stands look tiny next to the neighboring shore, emphasizing how tiny this place of solace is compared to the rest of the world.

Wiedeman definitely has something here, and hopefully she'll be able to explore this unique sensibility in her further work. That's exactly what the Xeric Grant should be about, letting talented creators get their work out there, and it should be fascinating to see what Wiedeman comes up with next.

-Matthew J. Brady

To purchase the comic, visit Wiedeman's site.