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Western Tales #4 Intro WIP
By Two-Hour Delay
By Joshua Hale FialkovSitting at the airport at two in the morning,staring quietly waiting for my plane, bleary eyed from a long days work, my red-eye delayed almost two hours. Across the way I see a woman arguing with the people behind the ticket counter, it transfixes me. I missed the closing of all the restaurants and stores almost two hours ago, and now I have nothing to drink except for the tepid water that dribbles from the twin water fountains, one slightly lower than the other, as if to signify boys and girls more so than adult and child. (Even the low one, most children look ridiculous drinking out of. What else could have been the logic?) The woman shouts “Let me on.” And then the whole room seems to notice her at once. The woman behind the counter flips through her paperwork trying to find some sort of answer to give the woman who becomes progressively more and more agitated.
“YOU FUCKING CUNT” she screams, the counter woman freezes for a second. Her eyes shoot to the open doors to the walkway, and like a beacon in a storm, the insane woman sees it as well. It’s a mad dash for the door, the delirious woman barely edging out the counter person. “LET ME ON THIS FUCKING PLANE YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNT” she screams again.
It’s like a dream. One of those moments of heaviness in your head, when the hour gets late, the uncomfortable vinyl seat press against the pain in your lower lumbar region, and that god awful tinny adult contemporary crap blares over the loud speaker.
The other agents swoop in to her aid, as the woman rushes down the hallway, we can distantly here a “thud” as one of the men must have either tackled her, or tripped and fell behind her. I can see one of the agents dialing security on her phone The doors to the hallway slam shut, the plane too quickly backs away from the gate, and the two cleaning ladies take a seat to see what happens.
They watch me watching them as they try to look cavalier flipping through newspapers and giggling about what just transpired. The rest of the people here seemingly return to their dreams and tiny distractions. A few cling to the window hoping for something to happen and attention to be gleaned.
Security men, with an air of finally being called into action, make their way down the hallway, with a strident smile, the leader pulls on the door, which stops short thanks to the security lock. He fumbles with a white key card in his pocket and places it against the sensor on the wall. The other two security guards follow him down the hall to face the mad woman. A fourth stumbles behind, like a forgotten child, one of the cleaning woman leaps up and grabs him by the arm.
“Que Paso, Bobi?” I hear her ask, he whispers something, and continues to the door. Like a bad joke, he too tries the door and can’t get it open, till he remembers his key card. They aren’t used to doing this much “security” even at LAX. It’s the graveyard shift, afterall, and it’s just some crazy lady screaming “Cunt” at some desk clerk, who for all I know, very would could be one.
After the security guards enter the hallway, there’s another collective concentration, just for a split second, I suppose waiting for a gunshot or the crack of skull underneath one of those night sticks they carry.
Meanwhile, a new girl has taken the “cunt’s” place, and it’s as if nothing happened. As if some fat lady wasn’t screaming about getting on the last flight to Newark and calling everyone “cunt.”
It’s a vile word, actually. There’s no playful, nor harmless way to say it. It’s an angry spiteful word, and that’s pretty much that. The “cunt” comes back out to the floor, her hair a mess, and I swear even from the 40 or so feet away I sit, I still see her knees shaking, and the thought of “This is the one I pushed too far” on her face.
But did she push? What causes someone to just up and go nutso like that. I mean there’s got to be some sort of logic or.. no, I suppose not.
The guards walk out, empty handed. I can only imagine they let her on the flight. Which seems unfortunate, at least for us as the stranded audience.
The cleaning ladies have all settled in now, they flip through the discarded newspapers and magazines, one of them bounds off, towards one of the deserted ticket counters, and positions herself behind it. She’s obviously reenacting what just happened.
This was a story. It happened. For everyone in the room, they all will remember it, tell their families, laugh and joke about the crazy woman yelling “cunt” all over the place. It’s one of the few times I’ve felt community with strangers, even if 2/3rds of them were hiding their faces trying to look non-descript and invisible, in case she pulls a gun, I suppose, or calls one of them a cunt. But, we were all there.
The plane taxis away. She must be on board, or, she dropped out the passageway, and ran for it down the runway. One of the two. I like to believe the latter.
Joshua Hale Fialkov Los Angeles, CA 11-24-04
In Too Deep
My BF article is up. It has a long rant about Project Greenlight, and talks about some books you can read to really take the right preperatory steps in jumping into comics. First paragraph, and then link below.
This past weekend, there was a marathon of the full season of “Project Greenlight.” This show is the one program that EVERY film and TV industry person I know watches religiously. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion, from every possible angle. It satisfies something in industry folk: that feeling of “I know what they’re doing wrong.” That feeling of superiority overcomes the envy of some schmuck getting to make his own movie. But, that being said, there’s something we can all learn from it. John Gulager, the director and de facto star of the show, is all about passion. His reel was raw, filled with a spark, although not necessarily executed to their fullest potential. It can be argued this spark is what made them pick him. At least in part.
Weekly Fortune Cookie
My favorite thing about Chinese take-out is when they think you're more people than you are, because you order too much food. They give you extra fortune cookies, you see. Go over-eating!
Se7en
I did a rewatch of Se7en for one of the scripts I'm working on. Partially to make sure I'm not duplicating anything, but mostly to see how the very best of the genre was done. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer aside, there's never been a movie like this. Even Silence of the Lambs pales in comparison, I reckon. I remembered 2/3rds of the way through that I had a girlfriend in High School who was borderline obsessed with it, and I, in my cynical anti-Hollywood (and consequently anti-Brad Pitt) mindset just refused to sit through it. I must've finally watched it in college, thankfully, and it turned me around both on the Pitt and on Fincher. Although, it might've been 12 Monkeys that turned me around on Brad Pitt.
I'm talking about Brad Pitt too much aren't I?
Lost 5-4-04
You'd think with the build up from the last new episode (so many months ago) this episode would have a bit more... oomph. This felt like a mid-season episode, not a only three to go. The flashback bits were great, as usual, but, the overall action was just crawling by. Here's hoping they come back out swinging next week.
Poopsheet Reviews WToT
http://poopsheetreviews.blogspot.com/
WESTERN TALES OF TERROR #1-3 by various
($3.50 each, Hoarse & Buggy Productions)
Reviewed by Matt Dembicki
I love good ol’ fashion horror comics. For me, the gold standard for horror anthologies remains the EC Comics line — Tales from the Crypt, Vault of Horror, Haunt of Fear. So when I get a horror anthology in my hands, I automatically compare it to those golden oldies. These days, rarely anything comes close — but once in a while something rears its ugly little head that gets my attention. Western Tales of Terror stays true to the EC form, capturing the feel, quality and fun of the previously mentioned titles, and also adds a new twist with a Wild West motif. (I especially get a kick out of the Cryptkeeper-like deceased gunslinger named Pete who wryly introduces each tale.) The folks at Hoarse & Buggy were able to rope some well-known talent (like Steve Niles) as well as folks who you just know will make a name for themselves soon enough. Most of the stories are short vignettes, but there is a longer story (by H&B editor-in-chief Joshua Hale Fialkov) that is split over the first three issues; that longer piece really pulls the series together. (There’s a prequel to Fialkov’s story available at the H&B Web site.) The covers for all three issues are masterfully rendered and draw you into the book. I especially liked Tony Moore’s Corben-like illustration for #1, which depicts an Indian zombie emerging from the shadows, preparing to snatch an unsuspecting two-bit whore. And once these stories get their hooks in you, pardner, there’s no escape!
- posted by Ricko at 9:30 AM
24 - Hour 21
Wow. How goofy is this show? They only have one doctor, the Chinese Premier needs 3 hours to decide to allow the US Government interogate a man THEY KNOW IS A TERRORIST, the faux president orders Jack to attack a consulate? And yet I can't stop watching.
It's a helluva lot better than Seasons 2 and 3.
Deadwood: Season 1
So, spurred on by Jason and Greg's unending pestering about catching up on the show (I've been watching season 2 as it airs), and this glowing Ed Brubaker column about it, I'm finally diving into the Deadwood Season 1 DVD's. Just made it through the pilot, and am starting episode 2. It's pretty excellent. I still have issues with the pacing and narrative shape of the show. I think that it feels like work when you're watching it (which Brubaker says is what he likes about it), but, for me, I need something slightly more easy flowing.
Still highly recommended.
Chud Says…
From http://chud.com/thor/2743
Eerie and Atmospheric “Elk’s Run” is Tailor Made For Stephen King Fans
By Sean Fahey
What is it about small towns that make them inherently creepy? Is it the isolation and the loneliness? The quiet, sleepy streets that seem all but abandoned after the sun goes down. Maybe it’s the people. Overly protective and weary of outsiders but in that polite kind of way that suggests “stop for a slice of pie, come out for our annual Autumn Fair, but don’t even think about staying for more than a weekend.” What ever “it” is, the new series Elk’s Run certainly taps into it.
As I was reading Elk’s Run # 1, I couldn’t help but think how much a fan of Stephen King’s older works would love this series. In many ways, Elk’s Run could just as easily be called Castle Rock or Jerusalem’s Lot. There’s a chilling atmosphere to the small town that suggests depression, loss and secrecy. Once a booming mining town in the West Virginia mountains, Elk’s Run is now a shadow of its former self. All is not what it seems though. Work is scarce, and yet everyone seems to be provided for. There’s nothing to do in Elk’s Run, nothing to pursue, and yet no one has left the town. But then again, no one can leave the town. Exactly why remains to be seen.
Writer Joshua Fialkov and the visual team of Noel Tuazon and Scott Keating – whose depressed color palette adds a lot to this book – combine to create an intriguing and incredibly moody reading experience. It’s very real, the characters are very convincing, and the decision to begin the series (each issue will be told from the perspective of a different character) from the perspective of a disgruntled local teen goes a long way toward demonstrating how claustrophobic, constricting and downright inexplicable life in Elk’s Run is. The young always challenge the old, and always challenge the status quo. But when things in Elk’s Run have been unchanged for so long, is the “status quo” too horrifying to challenge? I cannot wait to find out what the mystery of this town is.
Most comic book stores should carry Elk’s Run, but if you are having trouble finding it, or would like to learn more about the book, check out http://www.hoarseandbuggy.com. Rating: 5/5
Going It Alone
This week's BrokenFrontier article is up. It's about the challenges of being a small fish in a big pond, and all sort of other cliches. Here's the first paragraph...
Being in the small press can be lonely. Really. Marvel and DC have a combined output that represents a good chunk of what’s read. So, they have a loyalty both from retailers and from readers that no individual can match. Yet, most of the small press folk keep their companies to themselves, and go at it alone, trying to eek out a market share and build a fanbase. At the end of the day, though, it’s nearly impossible. My company is essentially three people, each of us giving our time (and money) for no real income. It’s a labor of love in many respects, but, at the end of the day, it’s about getting people to read our books.
Comments
I turned comments on. You can use them.
IF YOU DARE.
Lizzie Borden
Just watched a documentary about Lizzie Borden on Biography. I wonder why there hasn't been a really good movie about it. It's pretty dramatic stuff.
The Serpent & The Rainbow
I really wish Bill Pullman was a better actor. He really ruins the movie. It could have been so fucking outstanding, but he's just so goofy.
Live Baby/Dead Mother
Been doing some research into this... there's a technical term for it, but damned if i can find it.
BBC News | HEALTH | Baby born to dead mother
A baby boy has been born after being kept alive in the womb of his dead mother.
Doctors at Cabuenes hospital in Gijon, northern Spain delivered the baby on New Year's Eve after battling to keep it alive in the womb of a woman who has been clinically dead since mid-November. Click the link for the rest.
If anyone knows the technical term, I'd be greatly appreciative.
Ah, thanks to Greg and Ben of the Bendis Board for help. It's called "Coffin Birth." Here's an article about it.
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
HHGTTG was my Star Wars. As a child, I spent hours on end reading, rereading, re-rereading the books, and even longer listening to my crappy tapes made from when the local NPR played the radio series. I wore out my video tape of the TV series after about a year of ownership. Hell, I even played the video game non-stop, despite it being pretty far over my head, as a 6 or 7 year old. I never made it past getting onto the Heart of Gold, and even that was a feat. This world, this creative vision of one genius man is responsible for a good amount of who I am. My sense of humor, my love of Sci-Fi, and my love of the absurd is pretty solidly wrested from that body of work. So the movie... well, I woke up last week realizing that, in a way, this is the movie I've been waiting for all my life. And, well, it's quite good. It's not genius. It's not the radio series or books, but it's on par with the TV Show, and it brings some interesting new concepts to the universe. The biggest sticking points are Zaphod's low IQ (which while explained, doesn't really jive with me, especially as there's seemingly no conspiracy or anything to put him in charge, at least not in this film,) and the ending, which just doesn't jive with the characters.
I suppose when any piece of art has such a massive meaning to you, any reiteration of it will ultimately fail. The movie is probably about the best it can be.
Fortune Cookie for Osborne Delivered to Fialkov
If you don't know who Rob Osborne is, you're missing out. Visit him at www.absolutetyrant.com and buy his book 1000 Steps to World Domination from AIT/PlanetLar on Khepri.com. You won't be sorry.
Vodou
Just fucking around with some of Marco's concept art, and a logo. I'm supremely psyched for this book. Here's hoping all goes as planned.