A Hell Of A Wizard
I love noir. Correction: I love contemporary crime noir. More specifically, the modern crime noir of the comic book/graphic novel variety. As much as I have appreciation for the film noir and pulp crime fiction I have already investigated from years past, the crime comics of Ed Brubaker, Brian Azzarello and Frank Miller were my doorway into the world shady men, sleazy women and even sleazier circumstances. It has reached a point where any graphic tale of sex and violence in the fictional underworld is instantly on my radar. Even a completely half-assed attempt at modern day noir such as Radical Publishing's The Last Days Of American Crime hold my attention from cover to cover.
During my initial foray into graphic storytelling and my subsequent increased curiosity in the noir genre, Vertigo started releasing paperback sized hardcovers of sleazy crime fiction under the Vertigo Crime label. All hardcover original stories by the best writers in crime comics complete with all black & white artwork. The recipe was perfect for old-style story telling in a fresh new way. Amongst these Vertigo Crime titles is Peter Milligan's The Bronx Kill. More recently, I've been thoroughly engaged in Milligan's current run on Red Lanterns, part of DC's New 52.
Rewind to Wizard World 2011 back in August. Unlike previous trips to the convention, I had a set goal. I was going to complete the following collections: 100 Bullets, Sin City & Preacher. Before seeing or buying anything else, I was determined to fill those stories in whole. Walking around the floor, it was a constant stream of temptation. Surrounded by fellow nerds and less-desirable geeks in the thousands, I saw autographs doled out by the likes of everyone from Patrick Stewart to Christopher Lloyd to the gorgeous Julie Benz of Dexter fame. Under normal circumstances, I would have sawed my own fingers off to run up to Chris Lloyd (we're tight like that) and scream "1.21 JIGAWATTS!!!" in his face and run.
At one point, I found a dealer that was selling all trades for 50% Off retail. Low and behold, he also had all the volumes of Preacher that I needed to square the circle. All I need do was be patient as the balding midget with the armpit stains wrap up his search for whatever Star Trek adaptations he could wrap his hands around. I stood waiting when out of my left peripheral, a mass of sludge wafted into the area. As I started to focus on this mass, sweaty arms had reached beyond the guy in front of me and quickly snatched the three volumes of Garth Ennis' blasphemy masterwork from the box I had been targeting. Rather than get in line like a normal person, Jumbo McSweaty No-Friends usurped me and latched his perspiration-lathered mitts on my presumed property. That's right…usurped! I know, right?
Grumble as I had done, it was no use. The epic being made off into the sea of nerdism with what I had my heart set on and try as I might, those volumes were nowhere to be found on that day. I had admitted defeat in the face of sweat-drenched danger. In one sense, I was Ahab to this humanoid's Moby Dick. I saw the white whale and I didn't even try to fight for my life. Instead, he made off with my proverbial boat and disappeared into the deep. So, this has what exactly to do with The Bronx Kill?
Well, the remainder of this past convention was a series of consolation prizes, one of which was The Bronx Kill at a severe discount. Having begun to read it, I can say that while it doesn't quite pack the same level of perverse intrigue as the Saint Of Killers, The Bronx Kill is a nice little noir story in it's own right. While this overall rant doesn't exactly sound like a ringing endorsement, I think that the journey to acquiring it is at least mildly amusing. Not to me, but someone else might find my ruin a tad humorous.
Side note: I am dedicating this particular entry to Ms. Tina Miroballi for wrapping her mitts around a fresh new job at Half Price Books. Congratulations! I can't wait to steal things and blame it on you!
Rewind to Wizard World 2011 back in August. Unlike previous trips to the convention, I had a set goal. I was going to complete the following collections: 100 Bullets, Sin City & Preacher. Before seeing or buying anything else, I was determined to fill those stories in whole. Walking around the floor, it was a constant stream of temptation. Surrounded by fellow nerds and less-desirable geeks in the thousands, I saw autographs doled out by the likes of everyone from Patrick Stewart to Christopher Lloyd to the gorgeous Julie Benz of Dexter fame. Under normal circumstances, I would have sawed my own fingers off to run up to Chris Lloyd (we're tight like that) and scream "1.21 JIGAWATTS!!!" in his face and run.
At one point, I found a dealer that was selling all trades for 50% Off retail. Low and behold, he also had all the volumes of Preacher that I needed to square the circle. All I need do was be patient as the balding midget with the armpit stains wrap up his search for whatever Star Trek adaptations he could wrap his hands around. I stood waiting when out of my left peripheral, a mass of sludge wafted into the area. As I started to focus on this mass, sweaty arms had reached beyond the guy in front of me and quickly snatched the three volumes of Garth Ennis' blasphemy masterwork from the box I had been targeting. Rather than get in line like a normal person, Jumbo McSweaty No-Friends usurped me and latched his perspiration-lathered mitts on my presumed property. That's right…usurped! I know, right?
Well, the remainder of this past convention was a series of consolation prizes, one of which was The Bronx Kill at a severe discount. Having begun to read it, I can say that while it doesn't quite pack the same level of perverse intrigue as the Saint Of Killers, The Bronx Kill is a nice little noir story in it's own right. While this overall rant doesn't exactly sound like a ringing endorsement, I think that the journey to acquiring it is at least mildly amusing. Not to me, but someone else might find my ruin a tad humorous.
Side note: I am dedicating this particular entry to Ms. Tina Miroballi for wrapping her mitts around a fresh new job at Half Price Books. Congratulations! I can't wait to steal things and blame it on you!
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