Tuesday, November 8, 2016



BSC, CA – Back in the day, Marvel Comics, who started showing story credits in the industry and giving headaches to superheroes, had two great artists to hang their hats on. One was Jack Kirby, whose bigger than life illustrations were 3D before 3D. His panel-busting drew you into the action with comic drawings that stood out and made your blood pump. His figures, from The Avengers to The Fantastic Four, practically leaped off the page and into action right before your eyes. You went to the next panel because you had to.

The second Marvel artist that was great [imho] was Steve Ditko, whose style was kind of the opposite of Jack's. Steve Ditko was the master of the small panel and its emotion. Both artists used their visuals not to just tell a story but to show the perspective of it. Jack was the big picture, Steve Ditko was the small screen. It was this precise perspective that led to the success of Spiderman as the downtrodden, misunderstood superhero persona. Ditko's art visuals did as much to create this image, perhaps more, as did the story plot script written by Stan 'The Man' Lee. Using different exclamation lines around the hero's head almost cartoon-like totally illustrated Peter Parker's angst in a way no other artist could have.

However, if the grandest sights were Jack Kirby's cigar chomping Nick Fury, shield-slinging Captain America, or the soap-opera Fantastic Four battling Galactus, then Steve Ditko had The Amazing Spiderman and Dr. Strange, with the latter title being his tour-de-force artistically. Ditko's art style fit like a glove and soon the unique title where action rarely took place in the outside world, was a cult hit, me included and this was way before Chapter 7 [Memoirs of Mr. Pete & Mary Jane Green]. Dr. Strange is the second of my planned movies to see this holiday season.

Thursday, November 3, 2016



BSC, CA – I'm a romantic, like my mother. No doubt everyone outside of Ohio, Hillary Clinton, Huma Abedin, and Tony Weiner are ecstatic this morning over the Chicago Cubs winning the World Series for the first time in 108 years, wooo! Just the other day to get in the mood, I sat with a box of Kleenex and watched both Drew Barrymore classics, Never Been Kissed and Fever Pitch.

I caught part of the game, almost fearing if I watched the whole game that I might jinx the old goat herders. In my heart I was hoping the Cubs would end the curse, and they did. I guess the old goat finally did forgive them their transgression, or maybe curses have a time limit. From the story I'm about to post about the Clintons, I can guarantee that their luck is about to change also, but not for the better like the Chicago Cubs.

Maybe this weekend the USA murder capital will be someplace other than Chicago. We can only hope. Meanwhile we will all revel in this moment of vindication for the team that had the longest World Series drought in either league. Somewhere on a mound way over yonder, all the great Cubs in Paradise are gathered, hugging, and crying with joy. After the jump we look at a few more pics from the night.