Blue Monday Blues

Hardware issues from last year re-manifesting in the main system, causing much difficulties around here. Posting might get a bit sporadic for a bit. Fortunately, i access the net through an ancient laptop, so we can still get a quickie post up for today's Blue Monday in our adult content back room.

We've got a trio of odds & ends that were in the digital pile - a set of plates from  D. Bruce Berry, whom i know best from his work inking Jack Kirby during his DC time in the 70s. These come to us from the Weirdbook zine back in '79. Following that, a brief History Of Art by Roy Lartigue from 1960's 7 11 magazine. (Whether Roy is a name, or a title for a more well-known Latrigue, i've yet to find time to ascertain) And lastly, Choice Cuts - a short piece by Cary Bates and Russ Heath coming to us from Vampirella 40 years ago.
Here are 4 of the 6 portfolio plates from Berry -

The other two plates, and other two features, may be viewed in the full version of this post on The Other Voice Of ODD!

 pages from Weirdbook #14, 7 11 (March'60), and Vampirella #67 (1960, 1978, 1979)

Out Of The Darkness, It Is Crawling

Crawling back up out of the darkness. Going to ramble a bit on a personal level before posting any images i brought back with me from the dark. Who knows. I might even not delete most of it. Fortunately, what family i have remaining do not read this blog, so i can try to ramble openly.

I talk at times of being a hermit. That's not just a cute character descriptor - it's a reflection of inherent sociopathic tendencies. (Don't panic - that's a wide spectrum. Not all sociopaths live next to psychopathy.) Those tendencies have become more pronounced with age. Probably, in no small part from simply watching the slow train-wreck of social collapse as we march, stumble, and dance our way into tyranny. Or maybe it was the rise of reality television and the shocking awareness of how many people consider those programs to be "entertainment". Or perhaps discovering the existence of prolapsed rectums of humanity who have bought ownership of phrases like "I die" (Fuck that Shakespeare guy anyway) or fruit names like "banana". I can't even conceive of how deeply, truly inferior one has to feel in one's core to even consider such tragically pathetic validation.

Of course, it certainly doesn't help living in a time when the current regime in my country inspires slogans like "T-rump: America Gets The D!" or "Putting The TWIT Back In Twitter".
One of the funniest things i heard recently was "What happened to respect for the office of the President?"
I concur. Somebody should force Mr. Trump to answer that question.

Anyway - that Hermit thing. On a practical level, what that translates to is that i generally go days without seeing another human being; weeks without contact more substantial than a nod in passing. I typically make two trips into town per month - one grocery shopping, one monthly errands and letting the med team play with their subject. The woman i love lives on the diagonal opposite of the country from me, some 2500+ miles away. The only family i've seen in years is my elder son, whom i see a few times a year. My younger son i have driven away with my antisocial episodes creating barriers between us, combined with my physical inability to travel these days. He just wrapped up a 3-4 year starring run in Vegas, and i was never able to get down there to see him. Those kinds of things added up over time tend to alienate people and drive them away. The last time i saw him was a complete surprise. Christopher Lloyd was ill and someone had to replace him for a show up this way. They turned to my son to fill in, and he showed up out of nowhere. I was, at that point, in a heavy withdrawal phase, but living in close quarters, sharing kitchen & bath with other tenants and when he showed up, i was overwhelmed and effectively shut down on the emotional level. I tried to hide in my last big project, and couldn't bring myself to go out into the city with he and his brother.
He couldn't understand - he's only been around me back when i was able to tap into that part of sociopathy that enable politicians to be commanding in public and use that as a shield. He only knows that when he came up to visit, i wasn't here for him. With everything else over the years, i think that was probably too much for him. And i can't blame him - and don't. I know where the fault lives.
I'm all too aware of how my nature has created breaks and barriers constantly around me. And, too often, i'll even intentionally create the break when i find myself feeling the effort/reward ratio to be ... draining at best.

Let's skip that ramble on earlier days and energy flows that i started typing and come back to the now.

While it suits my nature to be alone, and i'm very rarely lonely in that aloneness, it does come with a cost that's probably quite obvious to most. That disconnect from humanity in particular, no matter how bound i might feel to humanity in general.
Typically on the holidays, i'm a big cook - i'll go nuts with a turkey and a ham and much fixings, even if i'm the only one to eat. (You gots to have all the fixings for the leftovers to make proper Thanksgiving Soup!)
But this year, i just didn't feel like it. Or anything. I can't even tell you what i ate that day. Chicken maybe? Doesn't matter.

Technical issues have killed most of my painting cycles this year - the only real painting of any sort that i produced all year was the Jack Kirby portrait. The paintings that were building for release were cut off by a hardware upgrade that killed half of my tools. I'm still waiting on one last component for the system that will let me change some of that software and hopefully not lose a library that's measured in the hundreds of gigs of data. Suffice it to say, without that release my internal mental/emotional state is somewhat undermined. My art keeps me healthy in a very literal way.

My father, with whom i haven't communicated in over a decade, died a few weeks ago. He set new longevity records for men in my family, hopefully fairly happy in that last decade. I doubt my siblings have any clue that i keep an awareness, though they're fairly invisible to me way up here. So, naturally enough, my thoughts had tended to be drawn into that emotional void this past weekend, memories and contemplations pulling me deeper into myself.

Here's a funny thing - you can suffer the symptoms of clinical depression without feeling "depressed" in any real way. But, it puts a weight on you that affects everything, even when you're not aware of it. It's also possible to confront and control some effects simply by identifying what they are.
An example - several years ago i was suffering acute pains in my arms and joints for which i couldn't find a cause. Once i learned that depression could cause pain and confronted my Self on the issue, the pains stopped an have never returned.
NOTE: I'm not saying that anyone can "wish away" depression symptoms or anything foolish like that. I'm merely saying that with awareness can come power. After that, things vary by situation, manifestation, self-awareness, and practice/experience. My own bodily control and awareness was developed over long periods of meditation and practice after early years living in parts of Asia, which would certainly give me an advantage over many. That said, my focus is shattered these days - i can't actively remember the last time i even tried to meditate.

So, that's where i've been for the last few days, down in those internal shadows.  It's inevitable at times, and even necessary. But not much gets done at those times.

I've made mention in the past of this blog being something of lifeline/connection to the world outside my cave. There's literal truth in that statement, if not absolute truth. Working on the blog forces me to move my mind outside the cave. Writing it reinforces my connection to those who dwell in the world with me. I believe that holds true even when no one reads it, in the same way that letters are written, never meaning to send. The recipient(s) are still present in the mind during composition, yes? Not to mention, it provides a place to rant and vent. I should have had it up much earlier when certain movies came out. (I still want to do a piece on my problems with MOS/BvS - but that means sitting through them again to get it right. Haven't managed to do that. Got halfway, almost.)
Monologues are a good thing in this regard. Dialogues*, however, are certainly better.
(Hey, Commenters! You're therapeutic! Can you write that off in your taxes?)

Still here?
Okay - i promised images brought back with me, right?

Okay, moving toward the light...
Remember D. Bruce Berry, whose inks we used to see gracing Jack Kirby's work in the 70s?

Hmm...
still a little bleak, huh?
Okay, here's a bit of levity and a spot of colour to wrap things up for today. (And, don't worry - i made sure i was back before putting this in the cue. We're covered through the weekend, with new quiz for Friday, not one pulled from a book or magazine)
 

wanna know where a pic is from? ask. if i haven't replaced this with real info by the time you read

===

*(Yes, it's still a dialogue if there's three or more involved. The root is dia (across), not di (two))

It Came From Command D! (King Kirby 080)

When Jack Kirby made the jump over to DC, i eagerly read everything he put out. But my favorite of the bunch was easily the kid from Command D - Kamandi: The Last Boy On Earth.
The King's wild take on then (and now again) popular Planet Of The Apes movies was its own world, separate from any constraints of sharing an active reality with other titles. This allowed Kirby to let his imagination run free and the joy of that freedom seemed to show in the work.
And none of that messing around for the big reveal that we've been on Earth all along at the end. Jack wants you to know right up front, on the cover -

But don't misunderstand - when i say it let his imagination run free, that doesn't mean he just scribbled down whatever came to mind. Kirby created worlds & mythologies whole cloth, and he knew far more of his worlds than he could share in the books. He once said that he had already lived his stories, and he knew where they were going long before we got there.
Kamandi was a fine example of this. In the very first issued, he mapped out where the book would go for the next 30 issues - literally!

The original map is the center image. Those little boxes are some of the splash panels over the next 28 issues to show story locations. Don't worry - they're all right below, in timeline sequence, so you can enjoy the Kirby goodness:

In issue #29, however, it seemed we had hit world's end...

No need to worry, though. Shortly thereafter, Jack just expanded the map:

I have not read any of what's been done with Kirby's creations in recent years. I wonder if the Kamandi Challenge takes us into any of these map areas? There's some for which i'd purely love to see what Jack had planned. I enjoyed participating in round robin challenges back in APA days, so i'll probably check that one out soon.

all page art by Jack Kirby & Mike Royer or D. Bruce Berry from Kamandi #s 1-32 (1972-1975)

Crossing Boundaries (King Kirby 024)

Jack Kirby was, of course, a master of classic comic form horror stories, having spent many years creating them. By their very nature, they gave a certain freedom to let his imagination go galloping where other genres might keep things more tightly leashed. That very freedom must have held great appeal for him as an artist at times.
Let take a look at this little tale...

Now, what's this? The (disrespectfully named) Losers? Yup. Jack's decided to go classic horror story in the middle of the horrors of war.

It's a classic tale of an officer who lost all his men in an ancient temple seeking to redeem himself. The team makes their way to the temple, barely skirting Japanese troops along the way. The Major's tensions build until, as they're hiding from enemy troops above the temple, he freaks out and breaks away as the fighting erupts, and finds himself cut off and alone after the explosions...

I enjoyed being caught by surprise when opening up what was expected to be rather more generic war comics. The cover only kinda-sorta tangentially refers to them being underground in the temple. That's about as close as it comes to giving any clue to what happens in the book.

Though we've focused only on the horror story aspects of the tale here, The King mixes the genres effortlessly and probably had fun running free outside the typical war story constraints. It certainly had to be more fun than revisiting his old war experiences for a different tale.

Unless, y'know, his war experiences were a little weirder than we suspect...

Bonus!
Since i avoided all the action in this issue, here's a two-page spread of our heroes avoiding the action in Our Fighting Forces #151 (the first issue that Jack Kirby took over the title):

The Major's Dream by Jack Kirby with D. Bruce Berry in Our Fighting Forces #161, bottom panel from #151 (1975)