Table of Contents
RKYV # 40 {Sept. 2010}
RKYV ONLINE LOGO –
David Marshall {current}
r. j. paré {modified}
Roy G. James {original}
Virtual Cover # 40
- Art by Brian Typhair
- Layout by r. j. paré
Interior Art
- By r. j. paré, Bob Labute,
Joey Maas, Naomi
Randolph, De Tourist, Mike
Grattan,
Editorial Column
- “At the Outset:
A Few Thoughts from the
Editor”
- By r. j. paré
Spiderman © Marvel Comics – by Naomi Randolph
World View
- “A Canadian Living in the
USA”
- By Tom Rossini
Indie Comic
- “Different Unlike Us -
Emotions”
- Written by Darke Raven,
Art by Geraldo Gonzalez,
Lettered by RR Duran &
r.j. paré
Featured Artist Review
- “Brian Typhair”
- By r. j. paré
Short Fiction
- “Saviour”
- by Larissa Gula
Non-Fiction
- “The last Footsteps to
2012”
- By CS Cartier
Poetry
- By Larissa Gula, Stephen
Campbell, Frances Nichols
Vargas, r. j. paré
Pop Culture
- “Comic Book Review”
- By Brad Bellmore
- “Manga Maximus”
- By Darke Raven
- “Raised on Saturday
Morning Cartoons”
- By Pauline Paré
 At the Outset
A few thoughts
from the editor…
by r. j. paré

Summer has come and past

The innocent can never last
Wake me up…
when September ends…
Green Day

thanks • giving
- noun

x The act of giving thanks; a grateful acknowledgement of benefits or

favours.

Thanksgiving Day
x A national holiday celebrated as a day of feasting and giving thanks
observed, in Canada, on the second Monday of October.

I’m thankful.

Check that, I’m VERY #$%^&! thankful. You see, I’m a lucky guy. I’ve got two
great kids and an awesome wife that manages to put up with all my
nonsense. The fact that I still find her sexy-as-hell, after 13+ years of
marriage, is just gravy brother. The question is though, do I take enough
time to acknowledge this? Do any of us?

Perhaps this is something you can consider for yourselves, in between

mouthfuls of turkey and pumpkin pie, as you enjoy this Holiday weekend.
Here at RKYV ONLINE we are thankful for the writing talents of our
returning columnists – Tom Rossini, CS Cartier, Brad Bellmore, Darke
Raven & Pauline Paré. Their thoughts and observations are always thought
provoking and often witty. As well, our contributing writers [credited
throughout] have, once again, provided us with poignant and engaging
poetry & prose. They provide the varied and inclusive “voices” of this ‘zine.

RKYV would also like to extend hearty thanks to Brain Typhair for his
participation as September’s – Featured Artist of the Month. I hope you all
enjoy his fiendish “horror-inspired” art as much I have. Another thing I’m
thankful for this month: The cover which, hopefully, grabbed your attention
– right off. It was designed by our exceptional Assistant Editor, David
Marshall [using Brian’s original art] whose work each month provides a
“face” for this ‘zine.

Of course, no issue of RKYV would be worth a damn without all of the

wonderful pieces submitted by our contributing artists [credited
throughout]. They provide the often beautiful and assuredly eclectic
“flavour” of this ‘zine. All of these talented individuals make the task of
putting this rag together, each month, an entertaining and rewarding one.
For that, hell I’m always thankful. Now to
go OD on turkey…

Disclaimer: RKYV medical staff advises

that while turkey may contain trace
amounts of the chemical tryptophan,
which can cause sleepiness in overly large
quantities, it would be nigh impossible to
actually Over-Dose on turkey. That being
said, we’d advise readers to avoid a Paré-
family style Thanksgiving Day binge –
trust me that sort of over-indulgence is
not only un-healthy but can be downright
scary to watch.[Last year, one staffer
had a finger bitten off while trying to
reach for the bowl of sweet potatoes
while this family devoured a 27 lb bird !
The trauma has resulted in severe PTSD
for the poor sod an inability to
adequately type any future submissions
– he just makes coffee for the office
nowadays.] Harley Quinn © DC Comics – by Naomi Randolph
 World View

A Canadian Living
in the USA
by Tom Rossini

Working From Home vs Going to Work…

Is it a Benefit to Work From Home?
I have been working for a health insurance company in the State of
Michigan in the U.S.A. for the past 4 years. Basically, my job as a nurse is
to receive requests either by phone or fax where the Doctor, Surgeon,
Home Health Company etc request services for our members. I received
this data and determine if it’s a covered benefit and if so then see if it
meets Nationally Recognized Criteria to evaluate if this procedure /
request is truly medically necessary. For the last 4 years I have been going
to work M-F and doing my job to the best of my ability. Late last month, I
finally was given permission to work from home.

The company I work for has about 200 employees which is part of a
much larger company and then again another larger company. Overall there
are about 180,000 employees if I recall properly and we services over 75
million members worldwide. The company initiated several years ago the
ability for any of their employees the ability to telecommute. I have been
asking for this benefit for the last few years since gas shot up to almost
$4 a gallon but only last month was this request granted.

So here I am working at home now for about 1 month and its going
good overall but there are a lot of drawbacks for this. You may initially
think that I have to be kidding but in reality working from home takes a lot
of discipline. When my colleagues found out I was approved to work from
home, I was teased about being able to work in my underwear, not shower,
watch TV and goof off on company time ... well that’s not the case. Well not
completely… as I do work in shorts and a t-shirt and I may watch a bit of
TV while eating lunch. Some of the work drawbacks include: the lack of
adult communication and feeling part of a team, wondering if my boss
thinks I am working enough, is my production just as good or even better…
and then as your working you think I should do some laundry, or clean up the
kids toys, or maybe doing other home chores like cut the grass.

Working from home takes discipline. You need to be able to separate

work from home. You have to be able to walk past the office when your day
is over or on holidays and the weekends. You have to be able to not answer
the office phone if it is ringing during non office hours and you have to keep
family time as family time.

This past week I blew this all out the window as last Friday another
nurse retired and was basically doing double duty. Thursday I worked from
9 am to 4 am the next day
straight, then drove to work about
30 min away and faxed over 150
authorizations from 5 different
fax machines in the fax center/
mail room. Came home and worked
through on Friday until 3 pm. I
received an email from my boss
thanking me profusely and at the
same time offering me some
serious comp time once the other
position is filled. So, having the
ability to work from home does not
mean it’s a benefit… it’s a lifestyle
change.

Tom

Untitled – by Naomi Randolph

Cybil – by Joey Maas
 Indie Comic
Different Unlike Us
by Darke Raven
 Featured Artist
Review

Brian Typhair
by r. j. paré
< Gulliver Brimstone cover art, some of
Brian’s collaborative work with
Speakeasy Primates - a cooperative
creators studio.

About Me: Hello everyone, me TypH

again, here’s a little run down, for those
of you who might not know me, I’m a
young Canadian Horror comic book
artist/writer/creator, who works with
the nice folks from McHozer comics
here in Canada.

I have one printed comic out from Mchozer I also did an Ash Can preview
with Speakeasy Primates awhile back & I worked on a werewolf preview with
a friend from Comicmonsters.com and hope to have that up soon. It's done
in a more cartoon-y style. I am also working on my creator owned series
"Tales Of Dusk" which will be in the vein of old EC comics such as "Tales
From the Crypt" & "Vault Of Horror".

I am a self taught artist & only 20 years old. I plan on writing a lot more
horror stories an maybe even taking some of my comics an making them
into Book/Novel format someday to get more depth into the stories an
such, but that’s a rough idea only time will tell seeing there’s so much I
want to do in the horror genre in general. Anyways feel free to stop by and
leave comments if you like. stay cool boils and ghoulies!
rjp: Have you always known that you wanted to be or, rather, were an
artist?

BT: Yes I have, even as a kid I would spend hours & hours just drawing lots
of random things mainly weird monsters, it's always been something I have
enjoyed since I was young.

rjp: Did you study or major in art while in school?

BT: I took art classes up until grade 10 I think it was, the art classes
offered in school only had maybe 4 drawing related projects a year if that
so & the teacher didn't really like what I liked to draw either so I stopped
after grade 10

rjp: Who was your primary

source of encouragement, as
a child, in pursuing art?

BT: As a child, it would have to

be my parents an family for
sure, they would always buy
me art stuff to draw with an
encouraged me all the way, an
anytime I would go to family
members house I would always
have a sketch pad an pencil
with me for when I got bored
ha-ha…

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Frankenstein & Bride
Tribute piece [pencils]
Media Used:
4H art pencil, Papermate
Widemate 0.5 HB#2 &
Bienfang Sketch Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created: Nov 1/09
rjp: What is your favourite media to work with?

BT: For my comic work I always use Mech pencils an some other art pencils
& 0.1 Staedtler pigment liner for inks an the odd sharpies here an there
for sketches, I’m not much for the digital stuff like tablets an what not.

rjp: Do you use any special tools and techniques to create your art?

BT: Not really to be honest, I use 4H for most of my roughs I also like using
some coloured mech pencil lead for my roughs to, cause it doesn't show up
on greyscale scans, an then I use a papermate mech pencil to tight up my
lines an add the details an such, I also use a couple rulers an erasers of
course & a kneaded eraser, as for inking I use a 0.1 Staedtler pigment liner
ink pens an sometimes some fine tipped sharpies for sketches.

rjp: What inspires you to

create art?

BT: It's something that I

have always enjoyed doing
and it always you to
express yourself a little
more with your creative
skills, also I watch a lot of
Horror movies an I like to
specialize in horror art so
that would count to. Also
when I would watch horror
movies as I kid I always
wanted to draw the
things that I saw in the
movies.

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Frankenstein & Bride
Tribute piece [inks]
Media Used: 0.1
Staedtler Pigment Liner
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created: Dec 03/09
rjp: How would you categorize your artistic style?

BT: I like to think of it as a dark edgy style with a good amount of blacks
and detail in all my pieces and it's getting to become gorier too. I think all
my pieces for the most part have a nice horror feel and look to them.

rjp: Would you say that there is a "message" or "unifying theme" in your
work?

BT: The theme in my work is usually horror and gory, as for being a message
I don't really think there is one other then letting others know that I am an
all around horror fiend!

Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair

Title: Art Of TypH [website] banner art [pencils]
Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5 HB#2
& Bienfang Sketch Book
Size: 9” x 14”
Date Created: Feb 21/10
rjp: Which famous artists / creators or styles have influenced you? Why?

BT: There’s a lot that I look up to but I think the main ones would have to be
Bernie Wrightson for sure. The detail that he does in his pieces and the
style and look that he gets in his pieces are just amazing look there some
of the best horror pieces out there. I also like Jack Davis & Johnny Craig
from EC comics, the art work that they had back then was just amazing all
the images they did up were just amazing an shocking an just overall cool
too look at. Also a big fan of Jeff Zornow, the horror designs that he
creates and the detail and style of his art is some of the best new horror
art out there. Gary Pullin is also another amazing horror artist that I look
up to; the detail and look of all his pieces are just amazing looking.

Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair

Title: Art Of TypH [website] banner art [inks]
Media Used: Staedtler Pigment Liner
Size: 9” x 14”
Date Created: March 1/10
rjp: Would you rather have an engaged & loyal but, ultimately, small Indie
readership or work on the latest Spidey, Wolverine or X - book? [the old Art
vs Commerce question]

BT: I think for me it's a little bit of both, I think it would be awesome to do a
issue of Spider-man some day but if that never happen it never happens,
I'm perfectly happy working on small horror indie titles an having people like
my work. As long as I can do what I love and have people like what I’m doing
then that’s all that matters really, but I think I would be happier drawing
Frankenstein & other monsters on the day to day basis then drawing a
spider-man issue for a couple months. I just feel you get more freedom in
the indie style books then in the big name ones.

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Black Spiderman
© Marvel Comics
Media Used: 4H art
pencil, Papermate
Widemate 0.5HB #2 &
BienFang Sketch Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created:
Jan 15/10

rjp: Brian’s fully

rendered & detailed
pencil work seems tailor
made for mainstream
publishers like DC &
Marvel. His attention to
fine detail [ie: cracks in
surfaces, etc] seems
reminiscent of an early
George Pérez.
rjp: With advancements in computer graphic tablet technology, some
artists are now creating their work directly in the digital medium and
releasing it in purely digital formats... are the days of paper & pulp doomed
to the realm of fading memories?

BT: I personally don't think the paper days are done for, I hope not cause
then I would be screwed ha-ha, I do all my work by hand, I think it would be
cool to try using a tablet some day, but I am perfectly happy doing things
the old way.

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Uncle Creepy ©
Warren Publishing
Media Used: 4H art
pencil, Papermate
Widemate 0.5HB #2 &
BienFang Sketch Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created: Jan
13/10

rjp: What do you think

of the term "starving
artist"?

BT: It pretty much to

me means, that you
gotta have the mindset
that your gonna have
to work your ass off an
be careful where you
spend your money,
cause you never know
when a project could
just up an get cancelled
an if you invested a
month work of time
into it all goes down the
drain.
I think if you have the right mindset an will to work hard that over time you
wont be a “Starving Artist” yeah you might have to work two jobs for
awhile or take on a lot of projects or work in other art fields other then
comics, but as long as you work hard an stay on track an get some good
projects out there it should work out fine. Also if you’re a “rookie” artist
don't expect your first book to big a big seller or a huge hit. You have to
work towards getting a fan base first for your book, before it becomes
close to being a hit.

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Cousin Eerie &
Friends © Warren
Publishing
Media Used: 4H art pencil,
Papermate Widemate
0.5HB #2 & BienFang
Sketch Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created:
Feb 12/10

rjp: Do you feel more a

sense of community with
other artists or a sense
of competition?

BT: I think there’s a huge

sense of community,
because all of the artists I
know are always willing to
give tips and pointers and
such like that.

I guess there some competition sometimes if you see a artist you look up
to do something awesome you always wanna keep pushing yourself to make
the next “wow that’s amazing” piece of art.
rjp: How do you market yourself?

BT: My self I have joined a lot of forum related sites an comic & horror sites
in the past two years, an I am always looking for new places to post my art
so that people can see it, I always like hearing what others have to say
about my work.

rjp: Do you find it difficult to stay motivated / inspired?

BT: Well there are sometimes when your just burnt out an you just want to
take a day break or something, but I think we all get that now an then, but
for the most part I watch a lot of horror movies an they always keep me
motivated & inspired on my art so it all works out.

Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair

Title: Return Of The Living Dead Homage sketch © John Russo
Media Used: 4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2
& BienFang Sketch Book
Size: 9” x 11”
Date Created: March 22nd/10
rjp: While traditional publishing and distribution has become a difficult goal
to achieve for the modern Indie comic creator, what do you think of the
impact that social networks and POD services have had as an alternate
means of connecting you, your work and your audience?

BT: I think social networks have made a big positive impact on connecting
artist to other artist writers an fans alike, pretty much on any site you go
on these days there forums where you can upload your art an other things
for people to check out, I personally don't think if there was social
networks an stuff I don't think anyone would really even know of my art as
much as they do as it is, so I think it's helped me out a lot to get me to the
spot I am today.

Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Heartland Farm
Terror Cover [pencils]
Media Used: 4H art pencil,
Papermate Widemate
0.5HB #2 & BienFang
Sketch Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created:
April 3/10

rjp: What other interests

do you have, besides art?

BT: Well I am a huge horror

fan as you might already
know ha-ha, I will pretty
much watch any horror
movie there is, also I’m big
on collecting comics I have
close to 500+ I would
guess, & as of lately I’ve
been writing a lot more
working on some new comic
ideas, I also like animals a
lot mainly dogs not much
for cats ha-ha.
rjp: You are a member of a cooperative creators studio, Speakeasy
Primates, what is that like?

BT: It has been a pretty fun ride for the most part, fairly new to the team
but it's a good group of guys for sure.

Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair

Title: Heartland Farm Terror Cover [inks]
Media Used: 0.1 Staedtler pigment Liner
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created: April 15/10
rjp: Do you have any big plans, shows or Cons coming up?

BT: Big plans, well right now I’m working on my first creator owned series
where I will be going all the art an writing for it, it's going to be a massive
horror anthology series called “Tales Of Dusk” the first story in it is called
“Heartland Farm Terror” it's going to be pretty much like Texas chainsaw
Massacre meets Hills Have Eyes & Wrong turn, so if you got those 3
together the creature born would be “Heartland Farm Terror” going to be
my goriest story to date. As for cons that’s sadly a touch and go area
right not but I would like to hopefully make it to Fan Expo if all goes well.

Artist’s Name: Brian Typhair

Title: Fido Homage © Lions Gate Pictures
Media Used:
4H art pencil, Papermate Widemate 0.5HB #2
& BienFang Sketch Book, 0.1 Staedtler Pigment Liner
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created: Apirl 20/10 [Pencils]
April 21/10 [Inks]
 Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Tales From The
Crypt: Bordello Of
Blood Homage
© Universal Studios
Media Used: 4H art
pencil, Papermate
Widemate 0.5HB #2
& BienFang Sketch
Book
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created:
March 4/10

rjp: How would you like your art, and by extension yourself, to be
remembered?

BT: I think personally I just wanted to be seen as someone who did some
really kick ass horror art an art in general that people will like for years and
years after I'm gone. If a couple people like my work and it inspires them to
work hard and do art themselves, then I think I did a good job. If I could be
known as one of the top horror artist ever then that would be a dream
come true. That being said I have a lot of work to do if I want to reach that
level, so now I will return to my lair to draw some classic movie monsters
ha-ha…
 Artist’s Name:
Brian Typhair
Title: Tales From
The Crypt:
Bordello Of Blood
Homage
© Universal
Studios
Media Used:
0.1 Staedtler
Pigment Liner
Size: 11” x 14”
Date Created:
March 17/10

rjp: This creepy &

captivating
tribute to the old
EC Comics staple,
HBO series and
Universal Studios
feature film – was
a perfect choice
for Assistant
Editor David
Marshall to adapt
for this month’s
cover.

I’d like to extend many thanks to Brian Typhair for participating in this
month’s interview and sharing some of his fantastic & spooky art with
RKYV ONLINE. If you’d like to follow Brian online:

www.art-of-typh.blogspot.com
Untitled [CD Cover Art] – by Bob Labute
 Short Fiction

graphics by r. j. paré

With a heave of effort, Mary slammed the church’s ash wood door into
place by the handle. She sighed with melancholy on her breath before
stalking away from the evening service, adjusting the olive tote bag on her
shoulder so that the cedar wood cross she had tied onto its handles did
not slap her chest with every step she took.

Her steps startled the herd of skittish does that had been grazing on the
church garden, and four of the deer bounded off over the high fence. The
final, silly one slid underneath the mesh like a dog. All of them disappeared
into the forest surrounding the town. Mary smiled at the sight of the
graceful animals and wondered if the stags in the woods had begun fighting
for mating rights with the does. A few of the males had appeared around
her house, displaying huge antler racks that impressed any traveler.
Mary’s thoughts trailed back to the service that she had escaped. She
knew her parents were still reciting the Lord’s Prayer, and had started
shaking their heads at her empty seat. She knew they would ask God to
forgive her for her thoughtless actions as soon as the silent prayer began.
Mary herself silently apologized
to God as she walked. She
apologized for finding the service
impossible to sit through. She
certainly had faith. Her faith was
just not in man-written words
that had been reprinted over the
centuries, she argued in her silent
conversation.

She kicked at the sidewalk with

one of her magenta flats. All she
had wanted this Halloween
weekend was to be kind to her
family. Now they would be
fighting, and she knew it was her
fault.

She continued to walk down the

street, her thoughts bouncing.
She could feel through her flats
that the heat contained in the
concrete during the day was still
being released into the early
evening air.

She passed a hair salon and a bookstore before finding herself in front of
the coffee shop. Its windows were flattered with several black cats sitting
by water bowls, and a dancing skeleton holding a full mug. For a moment she
saw her reflection in the windows: tired blue eyes, gray v-shirt covered with
a black hoodie, dark jeans that were lightening from the number of times
they had been shoved through the laundry process.

The coffee shop’s door rushed open as a man in a business suit hustled out,
key’s in the hand that held up his chirping cell phone. The radio inside of the
small building began to play the song, “Mary, Did You Know?” Mary herself
smiled, stepping into the coffee shop; for all of the grief that song had led
her peers to carry out on her over the years, it truly was a beautiful song.
So many artists had redone it over the years that Mary never bothered
finding out which one wrote it in the first place. It just existed. She didn’t
need to know specifics to know that.
“Mary!” Close associate Don was working behind the register. “You going to
buy anything or is this another one of your quiet nights?”

Mary smiled at him. When Don was working she could sit in the shop
without spending her college change. “Hot chocolate tonight,” she
requested.

“Whipped cream?”
“Go for it.”

Don raised an eyebrow as he began the order. “I thought tonight was

church for your family.”

Mary scowled. “It is. I left.”

Don handed her the drink and took the $5 she handed him. “Keep the
change – it’s your tip,” Mary said. As she walked away to take a seat on one
of the old couches in the store, Don asked his coworker to take over for a
few moments. As he emerged from behind the counter, he carefully hung his
icing-flecked apron on a hook in the newly painted cream wall.

“Talk to me,” he commanded once he had settled himself beside Mary.

“Eh,” she shrugged, sipping her drink to buy time. “I don’t think there’s much
to talk about.”

Don scowled. “Yes, there is, and I’d hate to see you stressed. Last I
checked, your parents are still telling you how to be a good Christian, and
you are still blatantly ignoring their requests – and somehow still wearing
this,” he added, extending an index finger to flick at the four-point star
around Mary’s neck. Her small necklace held a bead in its center that once
magnified the Lord’s Prayer that was inside of it.

Mary lifted her free hand to knock Don’s finger down from her collarbones.
“There is no reason for me to give into someone else’s religious beliefs,” she
stated with a firm voice. “I love my parents, and I love the God I know
exists, but…I can’t conform to please. Not anymore.”

Don sighed, remembering the time a friend of Mary’s had discovered she
was pregnant. Mary’s parents had driven the girl from their lives when word
reached them that abortion was considered. They forbade Mary from ever
speaking to her friend again.
Mary had snapped, and told her parents how she felt: that what her friend
had done was a right in the U.S. and people of the church needed to
support the struggling family rather than humiliate them.

The door rang open as the chipped edge knocked against the bell hung from
the store ceiling. Mary and Don came out of reminiscing to see a middle-
aged man enter. His beard and short hair were brown, but peppered with
gray, and he stamped his feet carefully to be sure all of the loose mud was
off of his hiking boots and jean legs.

Mary glared at the orange hunter’s vest over his black sweater. Though the
season was not open for another week, two men had arrived early. She
thought of the does that had run away from the church earlier and felt the
hot chocolate swirl in her stomach at the thought of them being shot and
gutted.

“Evenin’,” the man said to Don’s co-worker. “Black coffee, please,” he added.
“Just one.”

“My partner’s still out in the woods, I suppose. Took my dang Jeep and
wouldn’t say a word,” he stated, matter-of-factly, in what he thought was
polite conversation.

Mary tipped her cup back so that she had an excuse to look away.

“Anyway.” Don spoke carefully, trying to distract Mary from the man.
“How’s your goal coming along?”

Her goal was to find a career that would not only carry her through life, but
would allow her to travel and speak with Native American tribes still living
on reservations. After meeting the younger son of a reservation chief, she
felt amazed at how forgiving he had been for America’s earliest inhabitants
driving his people into tiny perimeters and away from their old land. She
wanted to repay his story with a display of love, and from there, she would
bring their stories to the world around her.

“It’s out of reach,” she said simply. “My parents are interfering again, they
wouldn’t pay for such an education and I’m not ready to branch out on my
own.” She said, both bitterly and sadly, “They won’t even be alive long to see
me get to my career, they’re so old…”
Don didn’t reply; to occupy the silence Mary downed the rest of her
beverage.

“I better go,” she said quickly as she heard one of the old clocks in the store
chime that it was half past the hour. “I want to beat my parents home and
pretend that I was studying or something.”

“Hey,” Don said, grabbing her hand for a moment. “Relax. You’ll find a
solution for everything in the end.”

Mary looked away, aiming her cup at the garbage can. It sailed into the bin.
“Thanks, Don. Really.” Personally unconvinced, she gently pulled her hand
out of his and picked up her tote bag. “I’ll see you later.”

As her legs jerkily carried her behind the hunter with his full cup of coffee,
she glared at his back. As he slowly turned, aware of something, she glided
from the coffee shop; in moments, she had left him behind.

For several minutes she briskly walked. The sidewalk came to an end where
it dipped into the road. The road took a sudden curve into the woods, where
it eventually dissipated into dirt. Mary’s house was only half a mile up the
path.

Tires screeched as Mary crossed the street. The odor of burning rubber
reached her nose. A hard object clipped her shoulder. She heard a hard,
“Clop!” as hard material hit the road. The noise was muffled as the creature
raced across the dirt, into the darkened trees.

Mary looked back to see a black-haired woman sit back in her seat as she
stomped on the accelerator, heading straight down the street. Mary
shook her head, hoping the evening patrol would be in place. She looked back
at the forest and realized the animal was still there. She took a step
forward and remembered the rain last night. The roads were dry; the grass
was not. She hadn’t planned on walking home from the service.

She reached down and hopped on one foot, then the other, removing her
flats. She dusted them off with her own hands and slipped them into her
olive tote bag. After securing it on her shoulder, she started to walk
forward. Her hot feet cooled at the feeling of moist grass and leaves on
her feet. Hoping her neighbor back across the street had not thrown a beer
bottle over the road yet for her to step on, she walked forward.
The animal turned and trotted back off into the woods as she moved. Mary
smiled as its pale outline melted into the trees. It was all right.

She began to jog home on the grass, staying next to the edge of the dirt.
She had made it a quarter of a mile when she heard a car engine being
started. She slipped a little farther into the woods out of the car’s path.
A black Ford jeep bounced past her hidden figure. The driver jerked the jeep
to a squeaky stop, unable to handle the bumps in the roads, even at fifteen
miles an hour. He had to be drunk, Mary thought; nobody would be this
inadequate a driver on this relatively decent road.

Unfortunately, he turned his eyes directly towards her. She could see
green eyes underneath long brown hair, and the orange hunter’s vest
covering his shoulders. His pale eyes met hers and took on a gleam behind
the mask of influence; after several moments, they clumsily traced over
Mary’s body, a woman’s body visible through her well-fitted jeans and
hoodie.

Mary shivered in fear and revulsion.

No. Not her. What sin had she committed to deserve that? To deserve
being placed on this man’s most wanted list in his uncontrollable state?
She fearfully began to run back along the road, determined to leave him
behind. She heard the engine rev as the man put his jeep in reverse.
Whatever bump had ended its path down the mountain was not stopping it
now. The jeep backed up rather quickly, nearly overtaking Mary before it
lodged its wheel between the edge of a log and another muddy hole.
The man stumbled right out of his car. He fell and hit his head against one
of the overhanging branches Mary had ducked beneath. Yet he continued
on after her, the alcohol in his system masking the pain. Mary’s breathing
came faster as her eyes strained in the shadows that were darkening each
minute. Her home was right over the hill. Unfortunately, running a hill was
not one of her strengths. She wasn’t close enough to make it!

She gasped in pain as sharp twigs dug into her callused feet. Her bag began
to thump her chest as she relinquished her hold on it, and tried to run
faster. She glanced over her shoulder and was shocked to see that for all
of his stumbling, the hunter was actually catching up to her. He had hiking
shoes on, she remembered – he wasn’t slipping barefoot through the mud.
Mary’s lungs began to feel as though they were the kindling for a midnight
bonfire: tiny, weak, ready to give in to flames of pain. She gave up the uphill
race and plunged into the forest, looking for her childhood hideaway. Her
frightened mind begged that maybe she could huddle down into it long
enough for the drunk to lose track of her. Her legs were giving at the knees;
this was her last hope.

Even in the moments that her painfully simple and desperate plan emerged,
she could feel branches pulling at her jeans. Bark slapped at her skin where
her shirt and hoodie were already torn through. Sharp thorns were cutting
into her unshod feet. Her hair caught onto every bush she passed; she
nearly deliberately dropped her bag before realizing it might actually show
the drunken hunter which way she was racing.

There it was: her hideaway, a wide, old hollow tree, suddenly a few feet away
in her peripheral vision. With an Olympic winner’s gasp of exhaustion, Mary
fell to her stomach. She slid through the dirt into the base of the tree.
Roots bumped her legs as she lifted herself through it, just barely able to
draw her knees inside of the circular hollow.
She wildly grabbed for the leaves she had moved in her panic, and though
unable to see outside of the tree, tried to rearrange them, like they were a
jigsaw puzzle, and their picture would cover the slimy trail she had left.
Then she pulled her bag onto her lap, stuffing her mouth against it to
muffle her breathing. Her eyes scanned it, and she realized her cedar cross
charm was gone.

She silently swore. It had fallen off; it was out there, anywhere for this
crazy man to pick up---

“You a nun or somethin’?” The hunter called out into the night. He had found
it! “Well, then, sweetie…maybe I ought to give you a little gift. If you haven’t
taken your vows yet, you might as well know what you’re missin’,” he
sniggered.

In that moment, Mary nearly retched and vomited into her bag. The only
reason she swallowed the bile back down was that it would surely give her
position away in this game. Was this how a mouse felt when the cat was on
the prowl? Maybe an owl was a better comparison – because a mouse
couldn’t see or hear an owl until it was too late. If he didn’t move away on
his silent wings, she would be found, carried off…oh, Lord, she cried out
silently.

The branches were still rustling nearby, too strongly for the culprit to be
the wind. A twig snapped. Mary tried to steady her breathing, though she
could swear that the man could effortlessly hear her heartbeat as it
continued to gallop.

Another twig snapped, behind the hollow tree. Then the leaves around its
base began to crunch.

“Come on out, honey,” the hunter drawled.

There it was, the smell of alcohol. She was done. Soon he would look down
and see a foot – because one of her feet was probably sticking out of the
tree, with her as tall as she was now. He would grab her, and it would be
over.

For the first time, she truly began to pray. She prayed for more than the A
on the project, for no more family fights, for better meals on her table. She
prayed for her very life, prayed for someone to help her now.
A hand, slick with sweat and dirt, grabbed her bare foot. She screamed.
“Gotcha, sweetie!”

He began to pull, so hard that her entire body moved and thumped the tiny
hollow with a resounding crunch.

There was a crash of bark on leaves as what could have been a bush toppled
over nearby.
“What the---?”

There was another loud crack as something hard came down on the man’s
back. Now he screamed and let go of the terrified Mary’s ankle. Leaves
scrambled up tree trunks as they were knocked aside by panicked hands.
The smell of alcohol disappeared.

Mary listened intently as the man began to run away, tripping over every
object in his path. She could hear snorting and grunting that seemed to
follow the hunter’s slurred shouts of, “Lemme alone! Lemme alone!”
Within moments, the screams had vanished back down the trail.
Something else was there now, though a good thirty feet from the hollow.
It pawed the ground, and Mary heard a soft huffing noise similar to an
exasperated horse. Another deer? That made no sense – deer ran from
humans, not the reverse.

Mary slid her legs out under the tree’s bottom, then her torso and head.
And then she could see her assistant. It was a stag. His antlers were
incredible, branching into twelve separate points, impressing even local girl
Mary.

But this stag was white, a wild target, with grey spots flecking his back.
Yet his eyes were blue – not pink like an albino’s would be. By all means, this
dominating deer should not even be alive. And explaining his actions…
The stag stomped the ground again, and the trembling Mary slowly sat up
and stared at its kind eyes. So calming…the fear, the panic, it was all being
melted away with the simple flash of turquoise.

This was bizarre. In the past she had heard of a lost boy who had fallen
asleep in a snowstorm. Two elk had slept by his side throughout the night,
keeping him alive. But this seemed even stranger to her; especially since
the boy’s saviors had run the moment an adult had come within scent
range in the report.
 With a majestic toss of his
antlered head, the stag began to
trot off.
“Wait---“

No deer would listen to her, and she

knew it. But Mary did not care.
With her bag automatically
clenched in her hand, she pushed
herself to her feet. She swore she
heard clumps of dirt and mud drop
off of her to the ground, but she
ignored the noise and chased the
deer.

The ground evened out the instant

she found her way back to the dirt
road. She had even reached the top
of the hill. Her house was waiting
for her. The porch was lit with a
makeshift battery powered
lantern that looked like an antique.
The stag was nowhere in sight.

Disappointed, Mary trudged the few hundred feet to her porch, where she
dropped her bag onto a wooden rocking chair with a sigh. Standing on her
porch, though, the calming effect of the beautiful stag’s eyes wore off, and
the fear returned. Her hands fumbled into the fake lantern until she had
found the spare key to the house. She worked the lock with both hands and
trembling fingers.

She jumped inside when the lock clicked, slammed the door shut, and locked
both of the installed locks. Her clothes, she realized, were still dropping
mud with every step she took.

Trembling even more than she had at the sight of the stag, she stripped,
swiftly; then she raced upstairs and yanked a towel from the rack,
wrapping it around her body. She stomped her feet, the loose dirt on her
legs falling between the wooden planks.
The phone rang, and Mary jumped. She finally answered it a minute later,
afraid of whom it might be.

“H-h-hello?”
“Mary? Dear Lord, are you all right?”
“Mom…” Mary’s knees finally gave out, and she sank to the floor. “I…I think
so. But one of those hunters, he…he was drunk, he tried to…he tried to…”

“Oh, Mary!” Her mother screamed into the phone.

“I’m all right, really!” she assured her, almost crying with relief. “I’m home,
aren’t I?”

“The police picked the man up by the road home, and they won’t let anyone
up it until they figure out what happened. He’s drunk, but he’s beaten. Did
you…do anything? Is that how you got away?”

“No, Mom, I didn’t do anything,” Mary replied, sniffing.

“Well, whatever happened…this is a miracle from God, and whatever
happened, you’re all right…Mary, please sit tight and lock all of the doors
until your father and I are home!”

The normally sarcastic response Mary would have given was gone from her
mind. Instead, she replied, “Yes, mother.”

As Mary replaced her phone onto the wall, her jumping mind suddenly
laughed, silently. What would her future Native American friends think of a
deer, their main source of food, saving her life? Totem animals and spirit
guides were usually bears, owls, eagles, and wolves - strong animals that
were hunters or workers. A deer?

There was a loud, trumpeting call outside her house, startling her into a
shout. After a moment, she could stand again, and she descended the
stairs slowly until she could see out of a window.

The white stag was watching her house from the edge of the woods. He
seemed to nod his head in satisfaction, that the girl in the window was
safe.

As the stag resumed a still pose, the years of Bible interpretation

suddenly returned to Mary’s conscious.
The white stag was not specifically a Native American symbol. It had a
meaning in many cultures. But Christianity believed that the white stag
was, quite literally, Jesus Christ.

Mary stood in place, not daring to go onto the porch. She had to wonder,
would she ever see this amazing creature again after tonight?

The stag had no answer for her silent question. He merely turned, slowly,
majestically, and as powerfully as any leader can. Mary remained still at her
window, the towel beginning to slip from her warm and trembling hands, as
her savior walked along the little trail behind her house, and vanished into
the shadows.

fin
Peter [2] – by Joey Maas
 The Last Footsteps to
2012
by CS Cartier

Theory two – Death from Above

2012 and all of its doomsday theories are based mostly on hearsay and
the worse of the worst theories. Some of the 2012 dire predictions are
more likely than others just like the CME’s (Coronal Mass Ejections) which
can be a cyclical event which can be predicted based on a cycle and math
which is fairly easy and predictable. We know that the earth circles the sun
because every 365.242199 days, it returns from the trip, thus seasons
and thus a convenient use for the calendar on my wall. The inventors of
that handy device were lucky in the numeric values. The truth is the
calendar was based on years of observing, any good scientist can tell you
observation predicts future once observation repeats itself continuously.
Any deviation of that repetitive nature usually means something new is
effecting the equations or the cycle is grander and more complex than
originally thought.

2012 is also rooted in an

ancient and remarkably
advanced civilization that has a
distinct advantage over us. The
Mayan people have been
observing the skies longer and
the longer you watch, the bigger
the pool of knowledge that is
created. It is extremely
possible that they may have
spotted an orbit that will
culminate in a collision with
Earth in 2012.

This is easily one of the more predictable disasters for 2012. We have all
seen the movies, but do we understand what the most likely scenario is
really. I don’t think Mr. Willis or his likely counterpart will fly up the blow up
the coming disaster and save all of us. So let’s look and observe as we are
hit in every country every day by objects. I have a piece of meteorite on my
desk right now as a matter of fact. Every shooting star is something
falling to earth. Most never reach the planet and are incinerated from the
friction of the air upon entry. Speed and angle of entry play very important
parts to the amount of debris that survives the trip to planet side. Sadly,
it is the size that should be the biggest concern. How many near-earth
objects have been discovered so far?

According to NASA (National Aeronautics and

Space Administration), as of October 2nd,
2010 there were 7329 Near-Earth Objects
(NEOs) that have been discovered. Some 818 of these NEOs are
asteroids with a diameter of approximately 1 kilometer or larger. Also,
1142 of these NEOs have been classified as Potentially Hazardous
Asteroids (PHAs). Potentially Hazardous Asteroids (PHAs) are currently
defined based on parameters that measure the asteroid's potential to
make threatening close approaches to the Earth. Specifically, all asteroids
with an Earth Minimum Orbit Intersection Distance (MOID) of 0.05 AU or
less and an absolute magnitude (H) of 22.0 or less are considered PHAs.
In other words, asteroids that can't get any closer to the Earth (i.e. MOID)
than 0.05 AU (roughly 7,480,000 km or 4,650,000 mi) or are smaller
than about 150 m (500 ft) in diameter (i.e. H = 22.0 with assumed albedo
of 13%) are not considered PHAs. There are currently 1149 known PHAs.
This ``potential'' to make close Earth approaches does not mean a PHA will
impact the Earth. It only means there is a possibility for such a threat. By
monitoring these PHAs and updating their orbits as new observations
become available, we can better predict the close-approach statistics and
thus their Earth-impact threat. It is the aim of NASA and the allies of
said organization to discover at least 99% (huh! Personally I would have
liked to hear the goal being 100% but they are planning of missing some
apparently).

Let’s make this real. I did not say likely, I just wanted everyone to see most
predicted results. Oh, and insurance does not cover Act of God… but I
thought that the whole definition of accident meant… beyond your control
as if by the hand of God. Sorry, digressing!

A 10km asteroid strike would hit bedrock even with an

ocean hit. The earth is mostly water so hits usually
happen there. Tsunami results would occur with most
hits 51-500 meters and larger hits would flash boil
the water. A massive asteroid would create waves in
the Earth’s crust higher than houses, and a blast of
500ºC air travelling at 2500 kph.

Any creature within 12 million sq km would be wiped out. (1) That’s roughly
the size of the USA, Europe or Australia. That would be a really bad day,
and no amount of sun block and preparation would save ya.

500 metre in size objects are something we (and by ‘we’ I mean NASA and
the like) do not discover more than half of the asteroids and comets in our
solar system with a 500 meter diameter. The sky variable the
perspective and depth makes searching an astronomical undertaking.
Just one of these would create a crater 10km wide, and destroy all life
within 1,000sq km. (2)

100 metre objects are so small, in terms of our ability to discover them
that only a few percent are likely to be spotted. If a 100m asteroid
struck Earth at 19km/sec the resulting crater would be 2km across, and
it would destroy all life within 200sq km. These hit Earth with an average
frequency of one every 22,000 years. (3)
I personally cannot validate these numbers. I have seen probably two
dozen falling stars so the possibility is most definitely not zero. I am not
going to go paranoid and where a hard hat in case something falls on me. I
do not think that magic bubble would be sufficient. Objects with a diameter
of 50-60 meters pass closer to Earth than the Moon is at least once a
week.(4) Aside from the famous Tunguska incident, a smaller asteroid
exploded mid-air over eastern Siberia in 1947, leaving “122 craters up to
26m wide and 5m deep.”(5) It weighed about 70 tonnes. I am not trying to
scare anyone, but these things happen all the time. There is a bigger
chance of being hit by lightning, or winning the lottery. It is well document
throughout our history though. They strike the Earth and every planet all
the time. Look up at the moon as you can see the craters with the naked
eye.

Meteors do make it to Earth – here are some examples:

In 1965, a one metre heavenly object hit Barwell, UK. Roughly half of
Coventry, a city of 300,000 that it passed over, saying they heard it.
Those that could see it through the evening clouds estimated the tail to
be 20 degrees long. It broke up into many pieces, and although some struck
buildings, luckily nobody was hurt. Astrophysicists from the Herzberg
Institute in Ottawa, Canada, have estimated that an average of 16
buildings are damaged by meteorites each year, with a human being hit
every nine years, sometimes fatally.(6)

Recorded deaths by meteorites and asteroids:

588 AD, 10 people, China 1874, Child, China

1490, supposedly 10,000 people,
China
1511, Franciscan monk, Cremona,
Italy
1650, Another monk (!), Milan, Italy
1647-54, 2 sailors at sea
1790, A farmer and cattle, France
1825 , A man, India
1827, A man, India
1879, Man in bed, Indiana, USA
1879, Farmer, France
1897, Horse, West Virginia, USA
1907, Entire family, China
1908, 2 people reported, Tunguska
1911, Dog, Egypt
1929, 1 member of a bridal party,
Zvezvan, Yugoslavia

Buildings are stuck, and people nearly hit, most years. A recent example
(June 2009) involved a German schoolboy, Gerrit Blank, who was left with
a scar on his hand when he was grazed by a meteorite that left a 30cm-
wide crater in the pavement.
 In 1931, three
asteroid fragments
struck a Brazilian
jungle and 1,300
square kilometers of
rainforest were
destroyed by wall of
fire. (7)

Scene from “Armageddon”

On February 1, 1994, near the Marshall Islands in the western Pacific, a

handful of fishermen witnessed a hundred-kiloton explosion (that's 10x
Hiroshima) that momentarily flashed brighter than the sun. This asteroid
has been estimated to be just 6-17 metres across, but plenty sufficient
to decimate a city - so it was extremely fortunate (for humans) that it
exploded above the ocean.

West of Ungava Bay in Canada, the Merewether crater is 200m in

diameter and was formed less than 10,000 years ago. More recent is the
Henbury crater cluster near Alice Springs, Australia. The twelve craters
have been dated at between 2,000 and 6,000 years ago. The largest is
180m across and 15m deep. According to Aboriginal legend, the site is
known as “sun walk fire devil rock”, suggesting that the event had
witnesses.

Scene from Armageddon 2

This is the greatest demonstration that the possibility is real are the
NEOs of recent years. In 1937 an asteroid called Hermes, with a
diameter of one kilometer, became the closest recorded passage to Earth.
When it crossed our orbit it was 780,000kms away, twice the distance of
the moon. In terms of time, it missed us by a mere 5 hours. It was reported
2 months later, with newspapers claiming we almost witnessed the
destruction of our planet. (8) In 1989, a 300m asteroid (known as
4581 Asclepius or 1989 FC) missed us by 690,000kms and 7 hours. It
was not spotted until after it had flown by. It is due to return in 2012.
Experts say it is not supposed to come as close but I still do not know if
eggs are actually good for me. “Experts” keep changing their mind. Around
1991 another object, a 100m asteroid (1991 BA) passed within
170,000kms. And five years later a 300–500 m asteroid, (1996 JA1_,
passed within 450,000 km of Earth

In the near future, the number one concern is a 320 m asteroid known as
99942 Apophis. Although when first discovered it was considered to
have a 1 in 17 chance of hitting Earth, it is now understood to only come
as close as 25,600 kilometres.

Again, these are simply 2102 theories. The unlikelihood does not mean we
should not keep a weather eye on the horizon. I’m probably not going to win
the lottery, but I still buy tickets.

Footnotes:
1. Peter Grego, Collision Earth (Blandford, 1998), 92.
2. Grego, Collision Earth, 106.
3. Ibid.
4. Steel, Rogue Asteroids and Doomsday Comets, 236.
5. Grego, Collision Earth, 79.
6. Ibid., 71.
7. Austen Atkinson, Impact Earth (Virgin, 1999), 81.
8. Grego, Collision Earth, 101.

http://neo.jpl.nasa.gov/faq/ NASA – Near Earth Objects Program

http://colombiareports.com/colombia-news/news/11683-giant-fire-ball-
falls-from-the-sky-in-central-colombia.html
I did find this interesting, and it did not make mainstream news. I have
been reading about a media blocking but now I have proof that there may be
something to it. The article is below.

Colombia: 'Giant fireball'

was a meteorite

Monday, 06 September 2010 Kirsten Begg

“Colombian authorities confirmed that a "giant fireball" that fell from the
sky in the Santander department, central Colombia, was a meteorite.
The Colombian media has been buzzing with eye witness accounts of the
fireball, which caused a massive explosion at 3:15PM local time Sunday.
Andina.com reported that Bucaramanga Mayor Fernando Vargas
confirmed that the phenomenon was a meteorite that left a crater 100
meters in diameter when it crashed into the earth in the San Joaquin
municipality in Santander.

Colombian air force helicopters

were commissioned to fly over
the area to try to locate the
source of the explosion. The
director of the University of
Nariño's Astronomic
Observatory, Alberto Quijano,
told RCN Radio Sunday that he
believed the object was a
meteorite.

In rural areas of Santander, police

received reports that the
explosion had shattered windows
in the area.”
Falling Star – by r. j. paré
Untitled – by Naomi Randolph
 Poetry
Selected Poem
by Larissa Gula

Lingering
As summer bows to autumn
The leaves struggle to hold their emerald crowns
While they transform into an array of flames,
Clinging to their branches, their kingdoms –
Until they finally slip, neatly, accidentally,
And fall to the lands below

Where they are trod upon, and where

Their breath is forced out with each step felt.
There they lie, as the flames begin to extinguish.
Reduced, shrunken, shrivelling insignificant
Figures of the past, lingering, decomposing from thought
Leaving no trace of the original gleaming crowns.

Sunflower – by De Tourist
Selected Poem
by Frances Nichols Vargas

Morning Delight
The morning sunlight barely shining through
But –oh- I can’t get over the sight of you
The sound of traffic rushing by
Life slowly wakening with the sunrise
The Birds are chirping for their daily meal
All I can think about is making a tasty morsel of you
Gently running my hand along and caressing all
That I want to kiss
Waking you with the best surprise
And getting what I have wished.

Jean Shrimpton – by Joey Maas

Selected Poem
by Stephen Campbell

Long Distance
Tense phone calls, silence down the end,
Listening anxious for my silent friend.
Static, ripping sounds tear up the air
Around my receiver, I long to hear
From my quiet lover, although I can’t say,
I worry. Stilled my mouth stands at bay.

My sharpened tongue is loaded

Ready to utter heated words, exploded
From the battery of my loose mind.

Such barbed words as these are blind

To the complexities of a voice lined
With silence. The line crackles,
‘I love you’ breaks the manacles
Of quiet. Retreating, silence
Turns to catch a parting glance

Of two young lovers, a hundred

miles distant
Sharing time together, missing
and listening.

Anne static copy – by Joey Maas

Poetic Perspectives
by r. j. paré
Metamorphe
Moments fraught with autumnal impulse
Whilst revelling throughout an Indian solstice:

1. Tar-sticky pavement fades under a deluge of umber leaves

Sandals and swim shorts replaced with jackets and gym-bags

2. The transition to dutiful pursuits scholastic

Eased via distractions; from pigskins to pumpkins

3. That too-brief time of wondrous freedom

Extinguished, again at the hands of sage elders

Those grasping adults relinquished their unfettered youth

For shiny trinkets, expensive toys & the latest gadgets

Implementing an engineered metamorphosis

Exchanging innocence for…

The shackles of our obligatory consumerism

Indian Solstice – by r. j. paré

Lady Grinning Soul – by Mike Grattan
 Pop Culture

Comic Book
Reviews
by Brad Bellmore

Slightly Damned

Thumb Slightly Up
Slightly Damned is an ongoing web
comic with new pages published
every Tuesday and Thursday. This
has been happening since 2004.
Odds are that with it being around
as long as it has, that you probably
have stumbled on this before.

But, perhaps like me, you are just getting into web comics and this is new
to you.This story, created by Chu, can be found at www.sdamned.com. It
has fun art that is manga inspired but looks more Western. Perhaps it is
manga with a Western flavor. Either way, Chu accomplishes the blend
admirably. I enjoy the look of the characters.

The basic idea of the story is this: Rhea Snaketail, a Jakkai (a kangaroo
looking creature), has just died. Upon evaluating her life, she hasn’t been
good enough to go to heaven nor bad enough to be damned to Hell. She
lacks enough potential to even be assigned to purgatory.
So, since she can’t be damned, she gets slightly damned and sent to The
Ring of the Slightly Damned. Technically it is a part of Hell, but so few souls
are assigned there since most people live life enough to get assigned
someplace else. From that point on, the story follows Rhea’s travels in her
new world.

I can take this comic in small doses. It’s fun and funny at times and as I said
earlier, I think the art is enjoyable. The story feels thin for me. Perhaps I
need to press in and read a few more pages of (or years) of the comic to
get hooked. It’s hard not to recommend this though since it’s free, which is
a great appeal in this economy. Take a look. Read a few pages and see if it
hooks you.

The Art of
Failing Buddhism

Thumb Partly Up

I discovered the Art of Failing

Buddhism, a collection of
introspective comics at the
S.P.A.C.E. con back in April. Ryan Dow,
the creator of this book sat across
the row from our table and his title
intrigued me. It was, frankly, one of
the catchiest titles that I have
encountered in a long time. When I
finally got a break, I bought my copy
of the graphic novel and then
immediately failed to read it for
several months.
As the subtitle of the book promises, these are introspective comics. The
assumption being that these really look into the life and thoughts of Dow
as he uses his art as a means of both self discovery and self revelation. The
problem with this book lies in the fact that self discovery shouldn’t always
be revealed. Not that he tells anything painful or too disturbing. Actually a
lot of the revelation is quite insightful. No, the real problem is that these
insights don’t always translate universally. In other words, what was a
great personal discovery for Dow sometimes comes across as “So?” to
me.

There is a point in the book where he transitions to having an imaginary

Buddha guide him in life. This raises the book several notches. Part of the
early story’s slowness revolved around Ryan’s only foil being Ryan. Yes,
that makes it more introspective, but the addition of the second
character allows him someone else to dialogue with. It also allows
disagreement. The entertainment and profundity of the vignettes begin to
soar at this point.

The art is simple and cartoon-y. This is a comic strip collection after all and
not a true graphic novel so don’t expect it to have that overpowering style
of art. As a comic strip, the art works. It carries the story and leads you
to the joke, sometimes delivering it, such as the great image on the front
cover. The pictures get their job done and let the revelation and discovery
happen.

I’m glad I bought this book. I think most people will enjoy the read, although
they, like me, will find patches that just don’t connect well with them.
Probably different patches than I did. If you do read this, stick with it when
you hit those patches and look for the good ones to return as they will.
Also, stick in there until Buddha appears. I think you will enjoy it more after
that point.

If you are looking to get this book, you need to visit Ryan Dow’s website:

www.ryandow.ecrater.com .
Manga Maximus
by Darke Raven

This Month’s Experiment : Hellsing

Publisher : Dark Horse (1998)
Ok. By now you must be familiar with Van Helsing. If not by the list
of movies in the past (not to mention that ghastly Hugh Jackman movie)
that featured the man Helsing, and the actors who played him, then
perhaps you're a Advanced Dungeons & Dragons player? Why is that
Important? Because of AD&D's Ravenloft series, which had in it's
"universe" a certain Van Helsing inspired character in it… but this is
a manga review so if it’s Hellsing we’re talking Hellsing the horror
series.

While Hellsing has nothing to do with the man himself, Van Helsing, it
is supposed to be his descendants who run a secret organization
somewhere in the UK that protect Queen and Country from monsters of
all sort. Yeah, the United States, Japan and the UK seem to have a
market for secret organizations that fight the undead -- you need to
catch up there, Canada, can’t depend on Alpha Flight alone (sorry)!
The head of the Hellsing “family” is a woman named Integra. After her
father died and willed Hellsing over to her it seems she found herself
the target of termination by her own uncle. Yeah, "ownership" of those
secret organizations is just too nice to pass up, especially if he's
waited forever to have it passed to him only for it to get passed to
someone else. While hiding from him and his goons, Intergra stumbles
upon a corpse hidden within the depths of Hellsing HQ -- corpse? It's
supposed to be her protection against the worst.

Turns out it IS her protection, after

it drinks a bit of blood, because it
revives into the ultimate work of over
100 years of undead research,
Alucard (which is basically Dracula
spelled backwards. Whether or not
it‘s the same Alucard as in
Castlevania : Symphony of the Night
for the PSOne… never figured that
out).

Long story short Alucard deems the

uncle unsuitable to lead, and --yeah –
death follows. Integra becomes head
of the family, and Alucard is her best
weapon. Of course having Alucard
armed with a big frickin' gun loaded
with silver bullets helps a lot. And
that's where we are when Graphic
Novel 1 starts.

The Graphic Novel starts with your basic kill the undead... except Alucard
seems to pick up an "acolyte" after he pretty much shoots through a
police woman hostage and then revives her as an undead new agent of
Hellsing... whether she wants to be a new agent of Hellsing or not
(though admittedly she‘s my favorite agent of Hellsing). Then we start
to see things that used to be reserved for the residents of Northern
Ireland... mainly Catholics vs. Protestant conflict. Or, in this case,
Hellsing (Protestants/best in undead research spawned monster killing)
vs. a hard hitting priest of the shadowy Section XIII (Catholics/best
in technologically created monster slaying). Yeah, right. Ok. How did
this turn from monster killing to Catholics Vs. Protestants anyway? I
have no idea.
Apparently the monsters have been coming way too close to the "border"
between Catholics and Protestants -- and yes, I don't get that either
-- and Section XIII seems to think attacking their Protestant
counterparts and their vampiric resources is best. Yeah, Shadowy
Organizations, go figure. This rolls into Graphic Novel 2 requiring a
gathering of the Convention of the 12 over at Hellsing HQ to go over
the events of last volume, too bad during this the HQ comes under
attack by an army of SWAT undead led by two freakish brothers called
the Valentine Brothers -- once these two and their team is wiped out
it means it’s time for Hellsing and Section XIII to come together and
have a little pow wow over what’s happening.

This leads to a trip to South America and a little Hellsing on Nazi

action which turns into a media circus of majorly bad proportions,
which means the ending rolling in is going to be major with vampire
Nazis, werewolves, the occult, major high end fights and a slam bang
ending (oh my)!

I usually dread Halloween when it comes since I am, by nature, not a

fan of the genre of horror… but here I was quite hooked on the Dark
Horse Comics presentation of Hellsing from beginning to end. Nice and
solidly done, action packed and just the right amount of gore and
horror that even a mostly squeamish type like me can get into it
without being too turned off by it. Overall just my cup of horror: a 5
out of 5.

This is hard? Next

month is worst… the
manga that made
me… thankful. Stay
tuned.
 Raised on
Saturday
Morning
Cartoons
by Pauline Paré

The Good and the Bad of

Canadian Television
Once upon a time, Canadian television had a bad rap. That is to say, the
majority of it was just painful to watch. With low production values and a
marked lack of writing and acting talent, Canadian television lacked what
its American counterparts could offer. There were rare exception of
course, but generally it tended to be difficult to watch. Over the years,
Canadians became more talented and we started witnessing shows like
Forever Knight or Corner Gas. Flashpoint is another example of a Canadian
series good enough to be viewed internationally.

Being Erica is a Canadian series set

in Toronto and it is a joy to watch.
Being Erica is internationally
acclaimed and is even being
marketed in the US. The series
follows Erica Strange (played with
charm and grace by Erin Karpluk),
as she examines the regrets in her
life that have led her to be less
than she can be.

Erica meets an unusual doctor who somehow has her traveling through
time; sometimes changing her worst regrets but mostly just learning from
them.
We watch the character slowly change and become a
better person as she learns to reconnect with all the
people in her life as well as pursue the career she has
always wanted. Being Erica is smart, funny, warm and
wonderfully written. It can also be quite real in its issues
and daring in its subject matter. The acting ability on the
show proves that Canada definitely has the talent to
bring a show like this to life.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, is Todd and

the Book of Pure Evil. I must admit to being lured to
the first episode based solely on the name of the
show. You must admit, it has a pretty cool name.
That is where my enjoyment of this series ends. I
struggled through the first episode and I have no
desire to watch another. The acting is consistently
bad and the writing is very weak.

The production value is incredibly low and all the jokes fall flat. I always hate
to be mean in my column but I could not find anything to enjoy about the
series. I even found Jason Mewes to be wasted in the first episode. The
concept is fun but I can’t agree with the execution.

Despite my painful experience with

Todd and the Book of Pure Evil, I will
never dismiss a series just because it
was produced in Canada. In doing so, I
would miss out on all the Flash
Point/Corner Gas/Being Erica/ Kids in
the Hall type shows that have made
me love Canadian television this past
decade. So my Canadian Television
fairytale has a happy ending as I enjoy
the good that Canada has to offer and
look forward to a future of creative,
quality Canadian television…and they
lived happily (mostly) ever after.