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CHECKER COMICS: We've heard the grumblings of comic book
fans (and artists, and store owners) for some years now: that
the comic book industry smashed itself to pieces in a self-destructive
tantrum not unlike that of one of its mutant, angry money-makers.
In simple language, the industry alienated its fan base and sales
hit the skids.
The renegade indie comic is no new phenom, to be sure. But we
(admittedly not among the regular comic-reading elite) hope the
emergence of publisher Checker Comics, which describes
itself as "singularly dedicated to re-establishing this relationship
(with fans) by recapturing the art and science of comic book creation,"
is a promising portent for talented artists (of which this town
has plenty) and neglected readers alike.
Above their publishing credentials, the Dayton, Ohio, company
says they are "more importantly comic book fans ourselves."
Clearly, they've got a decent sense of humor: Sample inventory
for review consisted of the innocent Vegman: America's Vegetarian
Super-Hero alongside Chemical Warfare, a
dark tale rendered in the classic war comic style.
Two great comics that taste great together.
Actually, our attention-deficit addled brains favored the former,
which features mild-mannered "Just Bill" from Santa
Fe, who's transformed into hunky Vegman through the power of UV
sunglasses and a sound diet. He undergoes more character development
in 32 pages than you'll find in a whole summer of blockbuster
movies, all rendered with quirky, childlike humor and bad puns:
from milquetoast house-husband to carnivorous, ego-maniacal superhero
(he strikes a blow for superheroes everywhere when he turns down
a trophy and demands $50 million a month to continue fighting
injustice in Santa Fe), on to his reformed, part-time, vegetarian
crime-fighting status.
Other titles due out this summer from Checker include Mutator,
wherein a cadre of superscientists endeavor to change the course
of humankind by manipulating our genetic evolution; and Danger
Ranger, which has a really pretty cover featuring FBI
hero Kirby Jackson, who joins a "hastily assembled, technologically
intensive team" to deal with a wave of paranormal crime.
"(Due to) shady power politics and stifling bureaucratic
incompetence, the game has changed. Now Jackson is stuck in a
dead-end job...as a superhero."
Who among us hasn't had that experience?
Anyway, keep an eye on the racks of your local comic books stores.
Even if Checker doesn't mark the beginning of a new era in comic
book publishing, they indubitably offer the beginning of a few
new series to chill with this summer.
Each of these first issues are $2.95. For more information, write
or call Checker Comics, 257 Wayne Ave., Dayton, Ohio 45402; or
(937) 586-9688.
GENERATION YES: Mercifully, the Gen X soundbites are slipping
off the radar screens, leaving those of us lumped into this nebulous
demographic to figure out our brilliance or mediocrity without
the help of the pundits and filmmakers. Even so, the cover story
"20 Under 30," in the June issue of Working Woman,
is a welcome progress report since the late '80s/early '90s, when
post-graduation angst and an oversaturated job market were at
their peak.
Profiled herein are 20 women under the age of 30, each a rising
star in her chosen industry: from alternarock darling Ani DiFranco
and Latina magazine founder and publisher Christy Haubegger
(a review of this terrific mag is long overdue, but we promise
to get up to speed this summer); to big brains like Rockwell Semiconductor
Systems design engineer Lisa Guerra, Mars Pathfinder flight director
Jennifer Harris, and MIT assistant professor of economics Susan
Athey; and go-getters like financial analyst and CEO Liz Davidson
(the youngest of the bunch at age 26), pcOrder.com president Christy
Jones, and attorney Julie Su, whose counsel for Thai garment workers
in 1995 prompted the Los Angeles Times to call her "the
most celebrated young, non-O.J. lawyer" in the Golden State.
An inspired list, to be sure. Though you might feel a little
less exalted about an evening of "Must See TV" after
reading it. Working Woman ($2.95) is available at
local newsstands and booksellers.
BODIES FOR HIRE: It's finally happened. It started with...oh,
who knows, but let's say the clock in the town square, for the
sake of argument (in our town, it's on Church Avenue between Congress
and Broadway). Then came along professional sports like the Lazy
Susan of the marketing trough, a colorful, moving billboard for
everyone from the U.S. Postal Service to Gatorade. And on and
on it goes, down the line, to public school marquees, which we
thought might be the final frontier for billboard advertising.
We expected the scourge of corporate sponsorship to move laterally
from there, until there wasn't a shiny plastic surface left on
the planet that wasn't emblazoned with some unlikely product label.
But wait, there's more! Like latter-day saints of capitalism,
there's a new breed of entrepreneur hitting the street: the corporate-sponsored
homeless. So far, major multinationals haven't been courted.
But some plucky Phoenix-area transients have been spotted in recent
weeks wearing T-shirts advertising local businesses. Somewhere
therein, they're also advertising their business plan: They'll
give you the shirt on their back...for a nominal fee.
Hey, more power to 'em. This is the most far-fetched scheme to
employ the homeless yet, but we're all for it. Affordable advertising
for small businesses, a license to get off the medians, and a
clean new industry. Puts a whole new angle on that "Tucson
First" philosophy.
But what we're really holding out for is the day when the Big
Brothers start sponsoring social ills like they do sporting events.
We've long been of the opinion that it's crazy to spend a thin
dime (let alone upwards of $50) for the privilege of giving Nike,
Ford and Disney free, ambulatory advertising. They should've been
paying us all along to wear their goddamn sweatshirts and
ballcaps. Now they can pay the disenfranchised and downtrodden.
What lobbyists can't do for us, maybe advertising agencies will.
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