Assault of the Comic Book Geek

I have a confession to make. I'm Stuart and I used to be a comic book fan. There. I said it. It's kinda weird, though. When I used to be a comic book geek, there was a certain uncoolness and shame attached to it. Nowadays, it's considered cool, even chic. Figures. That's me, always falling and drowning in the wave of cool.

Anyway, thanks to the ginormous Comic-Cons and shows like The Big Bang Theory, comic book geekery has achieved new levels of acceptance. Hollywood goes out of there way to court the army of geeks.

But I'm going to let you in on a little secret...comic book geeks can be downright mean, scary, even.

I know, right?

Let me lay down some hard to believe facts.

You know, when I was a kid, my parents would drop me off at the local big comic book store once a month. There I'd lose myself for hours, adrift in a sea of four-color tights and fights.

Yet the cranky old guy who ran the place hated me. I wasn't sure if it was me or he hated kids in general, but he was downright mean to me. He made me feel like I shouldn't have even been in the store, always yelling and barking at me around his cigar. Huh. Funny. You'd think that comic books were, oh, I dunno, kinda aimed toward kids.

But that's not even the worst comic bookery transgression that had happened to me.

I once saw a couple of older comic book fans nearly get into a fight over who would win in a battle between Submariner and Aquaman. Harsh words were shouted over the comic book counter, the Marvel fan nearly in tears. I left before blood was drawn. (Personally I'd root for Aquaman to kick whiny Submariner's arse.)

Comic bookery can get mean.

The worst comic book trauma that happened to me was at a cheap comic book convention in a Kansas City hotel. I don't even remember why or how my brother went with me (he was as anti-comic book as they come), but somehow I'd talked him into it.

I was looking around, searching for rare back issues of an independent artsy-fartsy comic book called "Zot (years later, my tastes were exonerated in that the auteur behind Zot, Scott McCloud, produced a critically acclaimed and land-breaking "bible" on the art of comic book storytelling)." 

Anyway, I was mulling over one kid's boxes of comics. He asked me, "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

I said, "Back issues of Zot."

This fat, pimply-faced kid whosevoice had barely just broken shrieks in laughter. "Zot! Ha! You're looking for Zot! Zot!" He turns to the dealer next to him. "Zot! Can you believe that? He wants Zot!" Unbelievably, this assault went on for minutes while I just stood there dumbfounded, shocked into silence.

But my brother, hot-head that he can be, sure didn't stay quiet.For once he defended me. "Shut up, Beaver!" (He did kinda look like Jerry Mathers.) "What do you like? Do you get off on She-Hulk? Take the X-Men to the bathroom with you?" It went on and on and got very ugly.

Beaver did shut up, turned into thirty shades of red, and sank into his folding chair. I grabbed my brother and we got the hell outta there before the comic book police showed up.

It's pretty sad when comic book geeks turn on one another, so much for brotherhood in comic bookery.

See what I mean? Comic bookery isn't for the faint of heart. It's a deadly business.

While I'm on the topic of deadly business, Leon Garber's possibly in the most deadly kind of business (outside of comic bookery, natch). Accountant by day, he's a serial killer by night. Not to worry, though, he only targets the worst possible people around. The problem is someone's hunting him now. Worse, it's his former employer, Like-Minded Individuals, Inc. It's complicated. A trilogy's worth of complications. Check out the first book, Secret Society, here.

Remember when comic-book geeks WEREN'T cool?

I sure do! As a kid, I lived through the disdain, the bullying, the ridicule of being a comic-book kid.

A shove off my bike because I was thumbing through a much-valued issue of Spiderman? A hard-earned, four-color badge of honor. The mockery and laughter when I was caught buying the latest issue of X-Men at the local drug store? Just part of the price to enjoy my fantastical dream worlds, true believer! Punched in the school hallway because I had Wolverine stickers emblazoned all over my notebook? No pain, no gain! (Although to have Wolverine's adamantium claws at that moment would've been helpful. *Snikt.*)

Sigh.

My torment didn't stop with the school bullies either. My two brothers--one younger, one older--ridiculed me at every opportunity while they pursued worthless pursuits like football. Matter of fact, my nieces make fun of me now, because their dad tells them all I used to do was sit in my bedroom and read comic books. (Soooo not true...I used to watch a lot of old movies, too.)

Honestly, as a loner, at the time I didn't think much of the fallout. Just knew I enjoyed comic books. But to everyone else, I was a superhero-reading outcast. Oh, the shame. Even my parents were all, "What's wrong with Stuart?"

Back in the day, as long as you were under the age of twelve, it was considered acceptable to read comic-books. But I carried the tradition on into my teens, even my college days. Along with reading Salinger, Hemingway, and Faulkner, I thrilled to the writings of Stan Lee and studied the artwork of Jack Kirby. 

But--shamefully, eventually--I bowed down to peer pressure. I kept my comic-book reading a deep, dark secret. While most guys my age were stashing away their porn collection, I hid comic-books under my bed. If I ever got so lucky as to invite a girl back to my room, I made sure comics weren't in evidence, hastily shoved into the closet.

Such was the shame my family and "friends" instilled in me.

Today, of course, it's an altogether different story.  No matter your age, it's absolutely cool to read comics. The geeks have inherited the earth. Hollywood banks on comic fans by plugging billions of dollars into superhero movies. Comicon has become one of the biggest, best, baddest commercial outlets for the entertainment industry. Commercials, clothing, food, for God's sake, are tailored around the comic industry! You can get a Thor taco!

Instead of a Thor taco, I used to eat a fist sandwich for my comic-book sensibilities. Me and my kind paved the way for you comic-reading hipster posers. You're welcome.

Interview with the fine artist, Sirac (by the extraordinary SIR WESLEY STUART)!

WS: Sir Wesley Stuart here, brilliant author of such noteworthy children's classics as “Blimey, the Teacher’s On Fire,” “Cake, Pie or Pigeons?” and “Let’s Fill Our Drawers…with Fun!” While the world has been abuzz—absolutely abuzz, I tell you—over my latest tour de force, Don’t Put Gum in the Fish Bowl, I’m afraid my talented artistic partner, Sirac, has been overshadowed by my (quite naturally) looming super-presence.

To right matters, I’ve allowed Sirac the pleasure of being interviewed by yours truly.

Welcome, Sirac.

S: Hey Wesley, how are you doing?

WS: (Youth today...sigh...so uncouth). Let’s begin with your name, “Sirac.” I notice your moniker includes the designation, “Sir.” Now I, of course, am a true “Sir,” knighted by the Queen (rather, her lackey) herself. You, on the other hand, I think are not a royal knight. Defend yourself.

S: Well, not “royal” in the traditional sense but certainly someone YOU would want to kneel to.

WS: Harrumph... So, you see yourself rather like “Cher,” then. Possibly “Sting?”

Moving on, no time for pish posh… You’ve done an extraordinary job bringing my brilliant characters to life in Fish Bowl. Truly, you make them sing, nearly flying off the pages of my literary magnum opus. Besides myself, who or what are some of your artistic influences?
 

S: Well, I have to say that Norman Rockwell is one that is at the very top. His work has always fascinated me, even as a little boy. The other is a comic book artist by the name of Jim Lee. His comic work is just amazing.

WS: Actually, I detect animated cartoon sensibilities in your work on Fish Bowl. Of course, I would never view such a lowly art form myself, never would I stoop that low. The very idea of Sir Wesley Stuart watching cartoons is preposterous! I scoff! Be that as it may, have *sniff* cartoons influenced you?

S: That’s funny that you say that since we’ve just worked on a children’s book together…But anyway. Yes, cartoons have certainly influenced me. Most normal people grow up watching cartoons, but I didn’t stop there, I was also heavily influenced by Japanese animation.

WS: Yes. Well… Thank you for implying I'm above and beyond normal. But let's not make this all about me, shall we?

Your art absolutely flows and soars (literally) throughout Fish Bowl. The dear wee ones in the book—so breathtakingly delineated through my stellar prose—absolutely come to life. Did you use real children as the basis for their images? If so, how much did you pay the little ragamuffins?

S: Nope, I imagined all how they would look according to how you wrote them. As I read, all of a sudden, their images popped into my head and I went with it.

WS: Please enlighten my fans of your other accomplishments. Is it true you’ve participated in the rather vulgar field of “funny books?” Superheroes, I dare ask? “Handkerchief Lad” or “Manners Man,” perhaps?

S: Yeah, you mean the one of 5 Original American art forms? Yes, comic books alongside with Jazz, also the source of some of the most money making cinematic franchises in the past 20 years. That’s where I started, drawing them since I was in the 2nd grade until now. Proud to say I started publishing my own a few years ago. But I’m also a fine artist and have been awarded many times for my pieces.

WS: Hmmph. I suppose there is a place for that and what not. I will say that your artwork, as always, is quite stellar, though. How does one acquire such funny-book periodicals?

S: All someone has to do is message me at Facebook.com/SiracIncArt and we’ll take it from there.

WS: It’s come to my rather short attention span that you’re a commercial artist for hire. A rogue agent, if you will. What kind of art is your forte? Let us ponder a few choice examples.

S: Well, we’ve already discussed Comic Book art, I also specialize in Painting Portraits, Logo Design and Murals.

WS: Bravo, Sirac, bravo! Extremely versatile, an artiste of many hats. I’m particularly taken by your painting, “The Devil’s Court.” It’s quite reminiscent of a night of mine involving several snakes, copious amounts of rum, a vacuum cleaner, the bobbies, and my dear Auntie Cheroot. (A pity I can’t remember much of it.) What is the medium of choice you’ve indulged within said painting?

S: Yeah, it’s actually the “Desert’s Court”, with that said I prefer acrylic paint when airbrushing.

 

WS: Now I’m looking at what appears to be a self-portrait of yourself and your quite lovely wife. But I declare skullduggery! Are you, sir, attempting to pull the wool over our eyes by passing off a photograph as art? How dare you? And if this isn’t a photograph, how did you achieve such photo-realistic means?

S: Yup, it’s a painting all right. I used three of them as a matter of fact to get the desired composition. How did I achieve it? Lots and lots of patience. Yes, that best won me a Best of Show award. I’m a very thorough guy and I ‘shoot for photorealism’, get it, any chance I get.

 

WS: Let’s do not get a big head over matters, shall we, Sirac? You seem to be a man of many brushes. What are your favorite tools of the trade?

S: My favorite tools of the trade are a .5 mechanical pencil, a ballpoint pen, my airbrush and some of the rattiest brushes that I have. They paint the nicest hair believe it or not.

WS: Ye gads, man. Ratty brushes indeed.

What are you working on now? And what would you like to work on in the future?

S: I’m working on a partial nude commission, and a Batman/Dark Knight Trilogy collage in preparation for the local comic con in April. For the future I’d like to certainly do more of what I just listed as well as more books with you, if you’re up for it.

WS: Indeed I am up for it, sir! (And did you mention a partial nude? I...see. I may have to visit your studio to complete this interview). 

Quite, quite. Where can patrons of the arts hire you out, my dear fellow? Please make it easy on our readers and list your links (tacky as it may be).

S: Everyone can find me on Facebook.com/SiracIncArt or can email me at siracincart@gmail.com as well as sirac_inc@yahoo.com

WS: Mm-hm. Mm-hm. Fine and jolly. Finally, I’d like to ask you something weighing heavily on my readers’ minds… What do you like most about me?

S: Ooh, that’s a tough one, well if I had to find something... (Crickets)...(More time passes)...(Any day now)...Well I guess it would be your writing!

WS: Well, there you have the remarkable artiste, Sirac, dear readers. Please do pick up a copy of the extraordinary work of art, Don’tPut Gum in the Fish Bowl, by myself (and Sirac). It can be purchased at Barnes& Noble and the publisher’s website. Of course, if you don’t mind waiting, the laggards at Amazon offer it as well.

Kryptonian Super-Pants!

Okay. Supergirl has super-powers. She has super-breath (I imagine super minty and cool). Back in the day, she even had a super-cat named Streaky. Nobody remembers Streaky, but when I was a kid, I stumbled across an old Legion of Superheroes comic where there was an ENTIRE Legion of Super-pets! Of course the membership included Krypto, Superman's dog. And Streaky, keeping it super-cat real (peace!). There was even a super-horse. Which is all very strange considering there were only two or three humanoid survivors from Krypton's explosion, yet a whole league of super-pets made the splash-down to Earth. But I'm super digressing...)

So while super-fighting super bad guys, you'd think Supergirl would benefit from some super-pants. Alas, it's not the case. In our current, hyper-sensitive Me-Too era (absolutely no thanks to our sub-super-president), Supergirl's still out there battling super bads while wearing a super mini-skirt.

Barely functional. Let alone super. I mean you don't see Superman flying the skies sporting a super banana hammock.

Let's super break this super double-standard down. While Supergirl's cruising over the city, she's shooting super-moon. When she gets knocked on her super arse, her ankles are up around her super ears. Sure, her super mini-skirt frees up her legs a bit to super high kick to the joy of teen boys, but still...enough's enough. Even Supergirl's bad gals and guys wear super-slacks, no super wardrobe-challenged fools in the face of danger.

We need to start a petition. It's 2018. Let's give Supergirl the super-slacks she deserves! Power to the pants! Bitches be wearing britches (sorry, couldn't resist)!

Have you checked out my super-fun books?

One super-click away from super-awesome reading pleasure!