Zipper Suits...They're Not Just For Shark Hunting Anymore

...it takes no convincing to get me to check into anything penned by Ed Brubaker. A YouTube recommendation brought me to Incognito. Sheer curiosity caused me to take a shot on Sleeper. Already on board, it was Criminal that made me a fan for life. There are many great writers in the comics medium. Often far more than the mainstream would like to admit. For me, Ed Brubaker is the pinnacle at this time. He is a force of nature atop his game. If his name is found on the book spine, I am buying as I did with Dead Enders.

Dead Enders follows a teenage drug dealer named Beezer who has visions of the world that once was and one that he never knew. His generation were born after a scientific disaster termed the Cataclysm, causing the world to live in endless cold darkness. As a control, the center of the city is the enclosed and artificially weather-controlled for the wealthy elites. The remaining sectors are run down neighborhoods riddled with toxic waste, drugs, poverty and violence.

Right from the outset, what makes this story intriguing are the parallels to today's America. Dead Enders was written in 2000-2001 so seeing this heightened view of an America that was to be is strange at the very least. While many stories reflect the times in the present, this was completed pre-9/11. I very much doubt that Ed Brubaker has powers to see through time, but the similarities are interesting.

For one who is more accustomed to Brubaker's crime noir tales, Dead Enders is a vastly different animal. Essentially, Dead Enders is a post-apocalyptic science-fiction coming-of-age love story. As a fan, it takes some getting used to when you have come to expect dark places and unseemly characters. Dead Enders is dark, but there is an undercurrent of hope streaming throughout.

...there is a phenomenon that I have been wrestling with now for years. If I were to trace a line going back to its origin, I could place the beginning in my late teens. In the beginning, it was sparse and occasional. As time has worn on and I have aged, the problem is no longer just a problem. It is a seemingly unbreakable habit. No matter what time I lay down to at night, I cannot seem to sleep past 7 a.m.

On a day that I am to work, I end up spending the majority of my drive yawning and sometimes nodding off at a light. I will sometimes sit at my desk and feel my head wing back as my eyelids slam shut. On a day off, I might spend the evening prior watching Netflix until 2 a.m. only to awake up sans alarm at 6:41 a.m. to watch Stephen Colbert. Even on weekends, I am walking around trying to decide how to navigate what will ultimately be a standard issue Sunday by 7:11 a.m.

Most days, at this point, I have the feeling that a solid night of sleep is the Betamax of my former life. My body is constantly eager to get out of bed early and yet, I am consistently tired. Perhaps the light at the end of tunnel is a future where I spend the weekend afternoons falling asleep to the Game Show Network still wearing pajama pants.

Read: Batman: No Man's Land by Greg Rucka

Watch: Stark Trek Into Darkness

Listen: Rory Scovel Dilation