Selling Shoes

Usually, the main aim of a newspaper comic strip is to tell funny jokes. If the characters are easy to merchandise, that'll help keep their creators afloat since their longevity can be attributed to their reassuring appeal on the funny pages. But sometimes you get a strip that defies rational analysis.  Shoe is pretty difficult to make a profit from, since the characters aren't exactly what you'd call snugly. The daily strips are more whimsy, and the Sunday strips are like mini-essays in their own right.

















Shoe is in an unique position where it has "funny animals" working in the newspaper business, yet it isn't even considered a mascot of sorts for the workplace. Save for the books and coffee mugs, the scope of actual product that can be linked to the strip itself is rather limited.

















The online store only has a select few items related to the strip, the most memorable item being the Skyler's Boot Camp series, originally collected as a and now available for a free download. Skyler's Boot Camp comics were a surreal experience in what was a normally an everyday life comic. Every year or so, Skyler would attempt to go away from the pressures of school, and go to regular camp, but somehow, he always managed to make his way into a military institution, which is pretty much the opposite of rest and relaxation. The highlights was seeing this essentially wimpy kid try to reason his way out of the military's harsh training and failing.

















The collected Boot Camp strips only go up to the 80's when they started petering out. There was another Boot Camp story in the 90's when Skyler actually intended to go to Boot Camp, since every previous experience of him trying to escape just led him further inside the military quagmire. So when he signed up, he was completely mystified when he wound up at regular camp instead. The day activities of doing banal play activities left him looking for booby traps and potential threats where there were none. Imagine Sosuke Sagara on a lesser scale. It was a brilliant satirical take on Post Traumatic Syndrome for soldiers unaccustomed to civilian life, and I'm sorry to see it wasn't included. Maybe it will be someday.

Archie Reggie and Moe

The following is my rambling attempt at trying to decipher the concept of Moe in Japanese culture and how Japan's culture of cute plays havoc with American sensibilities. (despite it being pronounced Mo-eh, I still think of a certain Stooge name when I see it) And what better way to represent that confusion than with out-of context Archie panels?























Using attractive girls to sell things is nothing new. Normally, attention grabbers have ladies in bikinis show off their advertising product, such as cars, aftershave or body soap. But what is one supposed to think when there's critical acclaim to see those very same products shilled out by prepubescent girls? However, it's not just for selling commercial products - these Moe girls are used for everyday mundane objects, such as trains, computer software and soda. Think of them as human equivalent of Hello Kitty. (The metaphor kinda falls apart when you take the Hello Kitty Vibrator in account)

Where it gets problematic is when these diminutive figures look about the same age as a young child, but are actually old enough to enjoy some of the pleasures of adulthood without all the puberty baggage that comes with it. THAT has unfortunate implications written all over it, and is mainly the troubling sign in a medium where attractive-looking youths are the major selling point of Manga success. And if those young children are really older than they look, so much the better, since it gives a plausible reason to handwave their awesome skills.













Like how Americans go for violent power fantasies, the Japanese seem content to acquaint themselves with mundane fantasies of normalcy by surrounding themselves with non-threatening sorority girls with small noses. Part of the appeal of young cute girls is that they're easy on the eyes, and their natural navité makes them easy targets for predators who'd want to take advantage of their innocence; and thus, bring along the male desire of wanting to protect such a young easily impressionable girl from outside sources. (Even if those outside dangers come from the protector himself) Understandably, this particular trait makes some people uncomfortable.

However, that particular formula is healthier than the more adult version, which proclaims to reduce Lara Croft to a mere victim in her latest Tomb Raider games. The closest environmental equivalent would be how cuter animals are less likely to wind up on the endangered species list than animals that don't conform to standards of human beauty. Therefore, baby Snow seals are more likely to be considered worth saving than tree frogs.


































A recent study found out that despite common perception, Japanese men prefer flatchested women to the more rounded swimsuit model. This is more of the realm of wanting to feel natural around a member of the opposite sex instead of feeling all flared up every moment. This lies in a different realm than the typical male fantasy of being around a beautiful busty babe. Rather than being surrounded by a sexual object, some men feel more at ease in the presence of a girl who doesn't make any strenuous demands of them. If this could be explained in an non-threatening way, it would be being sexual without being sexual. It's more ecchi-based than hentai-based.

It doesn't help that any criticism aimed at these lolicon girls responds the kind of "defense from outside forces" that spurs the very appeal they're trying to project. Any attempt to point out their faults will be used as ammunition back at the complainer for daring to demean such an obviously flawless (if vanilla) character. The male Otakus are simply projecting their own insecurities on their idol worship, and thus are incapable of being shown the error of their ways, since the court is heavily slanted in their favour. The argument is set up in such a way that no matter what reasonable criticism of potential abuse or vitriol is sent their way, it'll stand as an example of how these feminist critics are jealous of anyone who doesn't fit to their standards of "beauty". Even if those criticisms have valid points, they'll still sound judgemental in the face of the opposing side of the competition that offers no defense. The more the innocent naif expresses their incomprehension at all the loathing headed their direction, the worse off the accusative critics come off looking bad.























Oh, and don't worry too much about the outcome of the Archie comic. Dilton Doiley walks in through the door, and the two midgets instantly hook it up, much to the pleasure of the girls and the disappointment of the guys. In fact, Betty and Veronica are so pleased to see Dilton get along so well with the "little woman" that they literally swarm over his miniscule body, causing her to lash out at his larger "vamps", which goes to show that protectionism can go both ways. But that's an essay for another time.

Septic September

It's the start of a new school year, and that means it's also time for another batch of calendar pages. It wouldn't be a typical month if there weren't a gag that wasn't taken directly from Lynn Johnson's personal life that was reused for April later.


















It's an exciting time for learning the same boring old stuff that's been taught for years by authority figures trying to drill the same lessons during an age where what you'll be taught will probably become obsolete by the time you graduate.



















On the plus side, unless you're a grammar Nazi on twitter or 4chan, spelling doesn't count as much as it does these days, what with spellcheck and autocorrect doing most of the thinking for us. Posterity counts for something.







The trouble comes when you find out that the majority of the stuff that you conveniently forgot over the summer because you figured you'd never need to use it ever again, somehow becomes relevant to the new lessons, forcing you to relearn all the stuff you forgot in the first place.


















It'd be more helpful if they simply told us which lessons were mandatory, rather than having us figure out for ourselves and studying the miniscule homework projects up to the point of collapse.







Whether by coincidence or design, the Jewish New Year also starts in September, which kinda makes sense, given how much effort the faith puts into teaching. There's also intensive cleaning involved, which plays havoc with anybody who isn't germaphobic or naturally clean.



















For some reason, some people think this is considered messy. In the same way that photoshopped edits of models in swimsuit magazines are manipulated in order to make them appear more attractive to the public, so too are houses generally given the old once-over from their natural state into something resembling order, because god forbid that anybody should see their humble abode as it actually is. It isn't embarrassing to appear less than perfect all the time - it's their natural environment and we shouldn't be ashamed for living in squalor. (Though the dishes should be taken off the floor, lest somebody step on them)



















It's not disorganized if you know exactly where everything is. There's a logical system for everything and everything in it's proper place. Pretty much everything can be found in that pile in the corner, the important documents is near the flammable chemicals, the 3-month essay is buried somewhere under all that dirty laundry, and the dirty plates are right above the mini-fridge. It's pretty safe to say that I'm a natural messy person, which plays havoc living with neat freaks who prefer to have their stuff organized properly. The ironic thing is that I'm perfectly fine with organizing other people's stuff, but am notoriously bad at organizing my own. Having all this extra clutter can be an inspirational boon for mixing and matching various concepts and ideas that wouldn't naturally occur otherwise in a sterile clean environment. Now, if they could just find a pen to write down their million-dollar ideas...








As another cost-saving measure, the wastebasket doesn't have to be emptied if there isn't anything in it.

Gary Bray Minicomics

I oftentimes hear about people who've been impressed with purchasing independent minicomics by individual homegrown creators who're too small-time to try to get published via a wider distribution, and are most likely to be found at comic conventions where their amateurish works can be ignored for the whole world to see. I've never been brave enough to purchase a comic beforehand without any known history, or what the story is about, save for the more experimental ones I've found in the comics corner of the library. However, one single exception is a comic that was sold door-to-door by what looks to be a stand-up comedian.


































The following scans are all from a stapled pamphlet titled "What to do Until the Real Fun Begins". There's no accompanying picture on the cover, save for a badly-reproduced photograph on the back showing Gary Bray in a checkered suit near a microphone, looking somewhat like Jay Leno.


































My mother is generally reluctant to even read a comic unless the words are easy to read and don't require looking at the pictures much, which could explain why she bought this from the guy as he was selling his wares. That, or he was a better salesman than she gave him credit for. When it comes to amateur comics, I'm more likely to look at a series of short gags than a crude storyboard. The general sense I get from these comics is that they're concepts that wouldn't sound out of place from typical stand-up comedian one-liners. Or at least, what I imagine stand-up comedians would say, since I've never frequented any clubs hosting them, and my only experience with said profession comes from Seinfeld. Gary Bray certainly has a distinctive way of telling his jokes.


































For several years, I thought that was the full extent of his output. But then I came across another book, "The Antidepressionists...", and another, "How Come I'm not Famous Yet?", where his avatar is named Edgar for some reason. In The Antidepressionists, unlike the others, there's an attempt to try to form a comprehensive story with individual jokes, ranging from space aliens landing on the street to a museum robbery. (There is no natural logical connection between these two events - they just happen one after the other) It's also offput by silly misspellings (see "vidio" above) and a series of wonky panelling. Each page is divided into four square sections, further divided into another four panels, shaped like filmstrip, so you're constantly reading down two black panels, then moving on to the next space up, then down, then back to the middle left hand side. It's a very headache-inducing zig-zag style of reading, with most of the text below the pictures. And these jokes won't make much sense if they're read out of sequence. This is why I don't have much regard for mini-comics if they don't show much basic research in the style and presentation of a typical comic. They should be easy to read, not a chore to figure out.


































Even more perplexing is that of the three minicomics I've just mentioned, no two are exactly alike. You know how American comics were basically pigeonholed because there were so many wonky variants of formats and no consistent size until Manga came along? That's what we're dealing with here. Strangely enough, they all use similar printer paper used differently. The first book had normal folded pages, the second was full-sized; and the last was the same height as before, but folded in half vertically, resulting in a very thin book. It's as if Gary Bray couldn't decide which format he wanted his comics to be in.


































I tried to find out any more information about the man, but there hasn't been any mention of him since the 90's when these comics were being produced. The closest equivalence I could find of a Gary Bray from Montreal was his "235 Ways To Solve the Conflict Between Israel & Palestine" and his contribution for The Search For Peace anthology. The sketchy artwork for the latter certainly looks like his style, but since his face is obscured by his hat, I can't be sure.

Power Failure!

I just got an unpleasant surprise when I woke up early this morning, intending to watch a DVD series I took out of the library, I was near the end of the episode, when the light suddenly started flickering, and then I was staring at a blank screen growing dimmer in the darkness. The first thing I did was complain internally, because there wasn't anybody around to listen to me. I then started off by finishing some odd chores I'd done while waiting for the DVD to load, such as cutting up the rest of the watermelon, putting away some desert I neglected to eat the night before, and switching off all the power bars connecting to my computers in case a power surge came when the power would come back again. But before all that, I got the flashlight which was where I figured It'd be with the batteries still working. Since it was still the middle of the night, I needed to be able to see what I was doing. I'm pretty sensitive when it comes to bright light, but need the allure of a 60-watt bulb to set my mind at ease. I simply can't relax in the presence of a flickering candle flame for the same reason I don't like the great outdoors - there's too much uncertainty in nature. My comfort lies in stability, and not being bothered by the light being disturbed by the waving of tree branches.


















At times like these, I think about a certain innovative "light bulb" for 3rd world countries without electricity that can be easily assembled with the use of liquids and a plastic soda bottle. Trouble is, in order to find out how to produce this innovative piece of technology, I'd need to look it up online, when I had no access to the information beforehand. It also didn't help that this "light" bulb works best when it's bright out, which would be counter-intuitive in the dark.

So when the power went off without any warning, after I finished up the cleaning up, I started to pace around, full of energy, with no suitable outlet. I'm much more of a night owl than a morning person, and took this opportunity to go out and pedal around to see the full extent of the damage. After the infamous Ice Storm, I wanted to see whether the full extent of the power outage would've extended to the outreaches of the city, and whether there was any power still running. I was worried that I would never get the opportunity to embrace the glow of the electronic screen ever again; thinking back to those 3-month stints in India where there were entire populations without power. In situations like these, my mind always goes straight to worst-case scenarios.


















Part of my frustration lies in not having access to certain information. I can't rely on listening to the radio like everybody else - I have to get secondhand information from someone who can actually listen to the darned things. I was also worried that I wouldn't be able to tell anybody that I couldn't contact them, because my primary mode of communication is all electronic based. There's my email and Facebook accounts, my Skype which I talk to a scanlator weekly, and a TTY that needs electricity to work, even though the phone lines are still functioning. Even with all our technological advances, we're still held at the mercy of our electronic devices not being powered up by our transformers. I don't feel secure unless there's at least one backup power source for extra energy as presented in a rare instance where Dennis' "Children say the darndest things" actually made his parents laugh.


















What's especially frustrating when these blackouts happen is that they often occur in a secluded area of town, when the weather is perfectly fine. During strong storms when the rain is pounding against the windows, I'll cautiously turn off the computer during these turbulent times, and surprisingly enough, the power will manage to stay on. Yet when it's perfectly calm and sunny out, the power will suddenly turn itself off without warning. It's very frustrating. I remember a particularly aggravating moment when the power on our block was out, and the lights right across the street were working perfectly fine. Noticing the presence of electricity in the absence of your own is an unavoidable prospect, and the only real plothole in this otherwise fine Dennis comic, which some people have noted is better than the single-panel daily version.

Nintendo Power is in Another Castle

This year truly is the end times. It's just been announced that after 24 years of tips, Nintendo Power is going to end its subscription, the last issue being on December this year. While it's probably just another meainingless coincidence alongside with Doomsday scenario Manga 21st Century Boys being released in English around that month, the implications are still unsettling.  When the Mayan Calendar talk about the end of the world, it could just as well mean the end of our current world as we know it. While this cancellation was probably inevitable given it's irrelevant redundancy in the face of Gamefaqs which would give helpful hints on the very day the game was released while the magazine would still be in its hype stage, it still feels like a loss.

I only became acquainted with Nintendo Power after I ordered a certain hint guide for a certain game. I'm sure you all know which one I mean.

















This was essential, since I had absolutely no idea where to find the elusive 7th dungeon after having bombed every wall in existence and pushed every block. It never occurred to me that I should use the whistle or candle in the overworld. (Why should I?) It didn't help matters any that the old man's hint of "There are Secrets where Fairies don't live" proved to be of no help whatsoever. It seemed like just another initeration of one of his ramblings, like Eastmost Peninsula is the Secret. If it were something more obvious like Dodongo dislikes smoke, I wouldn't have had so much trouble.

One thing I especially liked about the Zelda dungeons was that they looked like each separate dungeon could easily fit within the boundaries without any overlap. I'm still waiting for the day when there's a grand dungeon that'll have borrowed aspects of every dungeon implemented into them. That is, a switch that would be flipped in one dungeon could affect switches in all the other dungeons. The closest this was ever accomplished to my vision was in Banjo-Twoie, where levels would be connected to other levels, but that was as far as it got.


This simple request for some help put me on a mailing list with a very influential subscription deal that seemed too good to pass up.














In addition to getting the magazine, I would get not one, not two, but four different player guides! Note that the covers of these advertised guides hadn't quite been finalized yet, but that didn't matter, since the content alone was enough to garner my attention.


































The NES Atlas had the VERY helpful guide to the Zelda 2nd Quest, which was like a hyper version of Mario's Lost Levels. Unlike the first Mario game which just replaced all the Goombas with Buzzy Beetles, EVERYTHING in the new Zelda game was different, save for the location of the first dungeon. The enemies were tougher, there were invisible walls, and no intuitive clues as to what you were supposed to do next. Finishing this game would've been nigh impossible for a child to complete without help. So far, only Orcarina of Time Master Quest and Super Mario Galaxy 2 have delivered anything on a similar level to the 2nd Zelda quest.


































Prior to that, my only experience with Nintendo Power was a Pocket Power pamphlet given out during the release of The Wizard. The general impression was that this magazine was a must-have that seemed very exciting at the time.

One thing that I was slightly disappointed with the Mario Atlas was that there weren't as much promotional doodle art, or Mario's history, and his last name wasn't revealed until the release of the Super Mario Bros. movie, which like all Hollywood adaptions of V-games, darkened the light and fluffy source material.




















I subscribed for just a year to see if I wanted to stay on beyond the trial period. The Howard and NESTER! comics were just as amusing, if sometimes perplexing if you weren't familiar with the game they were giving hints on. While Howard eventually left, Nester was left behind, and eventually devolved into one-pagers, then was dropped altogether, and only returned for a half-pager in the 100th issue, and again for the 20th anniversary. (I always thought Nester looked like a red-haired Vegeta for some reason. Note the family resemblence?)













Then they added the Mario and Zelda comics, and I HAD to renew just to see what would happen next. The Mario comics were some of the funniest material I'd ever seen, and I was sad to see that the last adventure was a short comic with Mario and Wario trying to get a Samus doll.  For some reason, this story wasn't part of the Mario comic collection. It would've been amusing to see an annual Mario comic having some tangental relation to each new year's games.

However, the magazine began to enter its redundancy phase around the same time that the Playstation started gathering competition away from more mature audiences who weren't content to squash mushroom heads anymore. The last regular game to be advertised in comic form was Super Metroid, which was rather lackluster despite revealing Samus canonical backstory. The experience felt rather rushed, and it's lack of popularity didn't even bother to continue with another mission after the main story was over, like they did with the previous Star Fox comic. Even though the Chozos were used, the side characters were left out of the game, particularly salesman Friendly Floyd and Nome the Wandering Knight (baring a startling resemblance to a certain Cyborg especially his ironic name, Jet Link).

I only renewed once a year, because I knew that I would get more bonuses from the magazine, such as my choice of Player's Guides and extra incentives in order to keep me on as a member. Why stay on for two years, when they'll appreciate you more if you're going away in one? However, later renewal envelopes began to get more desperate, with having an angler fish lure you into a trap, or comparing a tough level with cafeteria food. They simply didn't have the same level of bite compared to their predecessors.





















I eventually let my subscription run out when I no longer felt the same spark of excitement with the newest games, since they seemed too easy compared to their earlier output. Not to mention that my desire for finding hard-to-find NES games that still worked was phased out once the concept of emulators was shown to me. At least the Gamecube games were exempt from this. Then I discovered Super Mario World hacks that basically gave advanced versions of Mario games that were more imaginative and harder than the Nintendo originals, and required intuitive control of certain skills once thought mastered.

And yet, I still continued to keep the magazines and various incentives to keep me on as a member long past their sell-by date. Especially Super Power stickers which could be used for discounts on any players guides or merchandising in any of their catalogues. I always saved up for the player's guides, though I'm regretting not getting the GameBoy Advance guides that were only available on magazine racks, since I was holding out for them being available online. The second issue had some tips on Advance Wars that could've come in handy in being able to comprehend the complicated strategy involved, since the learning curve was very unforgiving, and the slightest military mistake could set you back for miles.

One particular bonus that I've still kept all these years are the popular Super Power Club cards, with descriptions and challenges of various games on the back. I have no way of knowing if these cars were randomized or consistent with every issue, since I knew no one else who bothered to subscribe to such a "kiddy" magazine. Maybe someday, someone will be able to comiple a comprehensive collection of all 200+ cards.

















Some of the notable challenges include:

#6. Super Mario Bros. 3

Challenge: Use the three Warp Whistles to get to World Eight. Then, try making it all the way through to Bowser without--

Novice: Using any special items or suits
Intermediate: Losing any lives
Pro: Losing any lives as small Mario.

(This challenge would be impossible to complete, because you need to be big Mario in order to smash your way through the bricks early on in the 2-sided fortress)

#21. Battletoads

Challenge: In the second level, how many extra lives can you earn for repeatedly bopping birds into the wall?

Novice: Two
Intermediate: Five
Pro: Eight

(I'm proud to say that I've managed to get up to 10 lives on that level. This made going through the later levels much easier)

#47. Soul Blazer

Challenge: Once you've reached GreenWood Forest, how far can you go without using your sword?

Novice: Reach the Fire Shrine
Intermediate: Reach the Light Shrine
Pro: Reach the Stone Men

(Hint - use magic to defeat your enemies, then use their dropped gems for more. Be sure to stock up in Grass Valley beforehand)

#115. Star Tropics II: Zoda's Revenge

Challenge: Which Chapter can you finish without taking any damage?

Novice: Chapter 2 - Cave Dwellers
Intermediate: Chapter 4 - 19th Century London
Pro: Chapter 7 - King Arthur's England

#150. Legend of Zelda

Challenge: How far can you get with only a certain # of heart containers?

Novice: 14 Containers
Intermediate: 11 Containers
Pro: 8 Containers

(A hardcore gamer's probably finished the game with only 3 hearts)

One thing that I appreciated while looking through the latest Nintendo Power issues at the library (yes, there are libraries that held Nintendo Powers - if it'll get children reading, they'll order it) there would be homages to past games and cult hits that deserved more attention, such as Little King Story, Astro Boy Omega Factor and Shantae.

In fact, years after I quit my subscription, I only began to look through my old magazines in order to see if there were any quality games that I passed up the first time around that I could pick up for bargain prices. Unfortunately, my Nintendo Power index only went up to issue 70, and year 1996 (issues 80-91) are printed with looser spines, compared to the stiffer spines of the other years, making flipping through them harder than necessary. It doesn't help that your only clue of whether a game was mentioned or not was by looking in the releases index in the magazine, printed in itty-bitty text which would strain your eyes trying to find that elusive game buried somewhere in all that crap.

However, the standard for quality reportage of Video Games was Next Generation magazine, with its in-depth articles, constructive criticism and comparisons of games and how they should be, it raised the standards compared to its competitors, which were virtually indistinguishable from each other. Next Generation rose itself above the pack. It was the Comics Journal of the V-game world.














- Now you're playing with Power! Portable power! Super Power! If the N64 had kept its original name, their slogan would've been Now you're playing with Ultra Power!

Animation Mistakes

Like any other kid, I spent most of my Saturday mornings watching cartoons on TV. Over time, after watching the same cartoon multiple times, I began to notice some annoying little inconsistencies, such as how a sign would be flipped up and be briefly blank on one side, before showing the hidden writing later. I now know that this was to cut down on production costs, because who’s going to notice that insane attention to detail? (Eyes dart around nervously)

One particularly erroneous example that annoyed me was when the Coyote accidentally rocketed himself to China. I didn’t object to the fact that a rocket would’ve likely burned itself up upon approaching the Earth’s core. I didn’t complain that the Coyote escaped the gravity of the symbolic inner planet much faster on his return trip. No, what I found indefensible was that the Coyote changed directions midair at the very last second. Remember, he fell into the hole feet first, so by all rights, he should’ve landed on his feet upon re-entry instead of his head when he did that U-turn on the cliff face.




















The Gummi Bears is a remarkable anomaly in that there's practically NO merchandising, which is quite rare for a Disney property. I’ve been enjoying watching the frist three seasons on DVD after not having seen the show for years, and catching all the little things I missed the first time around. One thing that really jumps out at you is the attention to continuity even among the stand-alone episodes. The Gummi juice only worked on humans once a day, despite it working for Cavin in the first episode. Likewise, there was some discrepancy of size reagarding the humans and bears; Duke Igthorn seemed twice as large as Cavin, but was later toned down to a more reasonable adult height. Sometimes the Gummis would be as high as Cubbi, and other times, they would be their normal height. In addition, the magic words for Zummi's lighting spell kept changing with every writer who couldn't keep that little nugget of information straight. Otherwise, the mistakes were kept to a reasonably small number.

Until it was pointed out that Princess Calla played a much larger part compared to knave Cavin, I didn’t even notice that it was her who was holding the knight-in-training on a piece of rope. Then again, in my defense, it went by very quickly, and was sandwiched between two short clips of the boy bashing an ogre’s head with a piece of meat, and looking impressed at the contents of the Great Book, so it’s easy to see where the confusion lied. Taking a closer look at the screenshot, I'm wondering where his legs are resting. Any ideas?




















Another detail that I didn’t notice in the opening was the inconsistency of was Cubbi rolling towards the ogre in Up Up and Away. Do you see anything wrong with the following screenshots?









Simply put, the ogre is falling backwards, when in all likelihood, he should be plunging forwards. That's not how physics work. The ogre is obviously on the take and deliberately taking a fall. It's rather embarrassing that I never questioned the unnatural movement despite seeing it multiple times in the revamped opening. Reading multiple martial arts Manga has ruined cause and effect for me.

In The Crimson Avenger, there’s a scene where Cavin is framed for stealing the King’s ruby studs, despite being nowhere close to the man when they were taken. (Then again, this was during the medival ages where being caught with stolen items was all the proof they needed) Can you tell what’s wrong with this picture?









Hint - a certain horse is standing in midair a little higher than it should be. Otherwise, the horse is resting on a very narrow stretch of sidewalk. As admirable as it is to praise a quality show for high production values in animation and story, sometimes it’s just... FUN to find silly preventable mistakes like these. It makes you wonder if the animator badly mangled the top of the horse’s head, and didn’t bother correcting it, since hey, who’d notice?

Given the flush animation, you'd be hard pressed to find any heavy Anime influences for the overseas cells in Japan. Though there is one notable exception; remember the weird trapped wizard from For Whom The Spells Holds with the rooster comb glove on his head? That’s Dr. Tenma, Astro Boy’s father. These are the kinds of details you only begin to appreciate years later.















Despite these niggling complaints, I really hope there's a continuation of the remainder of the Gummi Bears episodes. I never saw the epic two-parter finale, King Igthorn. The last episode I ever saw on TV was The Knights of Gummadoon, where a castle appeared once in 100 years, and the fact the episode ended with a book closing in on them, I thought for sure that was the last episode, since I never saw any more of them after that until today. I don't even have the luxury of downloading said episodes, since there aren't any Srt. subtitles. I waited 20 years to see the Gummi Bears again. I can afford to wait another six years for the next DVD set. I just hope that it'll be soon.

License Request - SODA

The modern-day rational of an S-hero keeping their secret identity and their civilian life separate from each other is so they won't endanger the lives of the people they're close to is so ingrained into the genre that it's hardly ever expanded or explored. In fact, it's easier to list the exception of S-heroes whose dual identities are inseparable from each other, since any information revealing such a secret would be fatal for anyone in the spy business. One European comic that puts an unique spin on this angle is an authority figure named Soda. Despite sounding like a soft drink, his nickname is derived from the first two letters of his file name, Solomon, David.


































Soda is a New York cop who hides his true profession from his Aunt May-like mother by pretending to be a priest. Much like how Alex in Good-bye Lenin! devised an elaborate white lie to convince his mother that her country was still Communist, so too does Soda go to similar lengths to prevent his mother from ever finding out he's in a dangerous profession. Although Soda worries for his mother, he displays none of the geekish awkwardness that Peter Parker does, though he's more world-weary than anything.


































Part of the fun comes from seeing how Soda does his police investigations while simultaneously trying to hide his true profession from his ailing mother. While his "secret" civilian identity is never quite the main focus, it's something of a running gag that EVERYBODY except Soda's mother knows that he's really a cop. It also doesn't hurt that there are times when his Priest alter identity comes in handy as a plainclothes officer.



















The cartoony expressions help convey a sense of the grimy underbelly personality that make up 90's New York city in a way that feels more authentic than the most realistically designed drawings in noir-stylized comics fail to accomplish. Another admirable trait is the amount of facial variation given to black people, which is in direct contrast compared to most negative perceptions of Nubians, commonly seen in Asterix and Tintin albums. (I wish I had more examples to show here, but you'll just have to see for yourself) Things only start getting interesting until the third book, which is not only when the quality of the stories improve, but also when the artists change from Luc Warnant to Bruno Gazzotti. It's not unusual for an artist to be switched for another cartoonist in the middle of a series. It's been done for Brothers in Blue, Thorgal, and Violine, among others; the most famous example being Spirou who's gone through multiple writers and artists. Though it's unusual for one to be switched out in the middle of an album.


































One thing I especially like about this series is the impressive amount of information that's conveyed within the silent panels as well as the wordy talking heads scenes. The former is pretty much the selling point for me in a police story that normally relies on hardboiled dialogue to get its point across. There is the occasional narrative, but it's not the full focus of the storytelling, and is less of a writing crutch than just another writer's tool.















Oh yes, there's also the most ironic usage of David and Goliath's names since Disney's Gargoyles. The cat may not play a large part, but his silent commentary and rivalry with David's suitcase containing his police stuff is the stuff of heightened tension.











Observant readers may have noticed by now that Soda only has three fingers for his gloved left hand. Despite this handicap, this little setback is never fully commented on or explained, which is something I find rather refreshing. It plays up the mystery allure, and plays on the audience's imagination of what could've possibly happened. The closest we get to an actual backstory is a single sentence when Soda returns to his hometown on a trip. Naturally, any cop on vacation is guaranteed to get anything but rest and relaxation while away, since crime practically follows them on the job. It's a rule or something.


































There are only 12 albums of the series total, but although it ends on a unresolved confessional leaving certain questions hanging, it doesn't feel unfulfilling at all. It's just as well, since the last two books were more serious than the early stuff, and had become more depressing of late. Better for it to leave readers wanting more than to devolve into mediocrity and wonder what they ever liked about it in the first place.