Hey, you remember that the last time we saw Kalimán he was just starting to crack the mystery of “Los Profanadores de Tumbas,†right? And how — aided by his ward SolÃn, friend and archaeologist Professor Farrel, Farrel’s daughter Jane, and Farrel’s protege Zarur — he discovered bad-guy Eric Von Kraufen had kidnapped the princess Nila, who was also the beloved, promised bride-to-be of Zarur?! And then that Von Kraufen was hiding out in the pyramid tomb of Ramses, where he planned to uncover the pharaoh’s legendary treasure with the strong-arm help of man-monster Makón?!?
Well, good. Because in the interest of getting this ball rolling again we’re going to skip over the rest of the story and get right to the final issue in this storyline. Don’t worry, though — Kalimán: El Hombre Increible #10 is good ‘n’ crazy.
We pick up the story with a confrontation between Kalimán and Makón, and it’s not going well for our hero.
“They have killed him!
Having gotten the better of Kalimán, Makón smashes the mystic warrior against the catacomb wall in a blow so savage pretty much everyone assumes he’s kaput. Von Kraufen uses a somewhat suspect technique to check Kalimán’s pulse and, laughing, calls the time of death.
“Ha ha ha! Ladies and gentlemen, this time Kalimán is dead!
Have I mentioned Von Kraufen is kind of a dick? Satisfied his greatest obstacle has finally been eliminated, the monocle-jockey tells his mutant handyman to dump the body in the desert.
“May the vultures enjoy a succulent meal …”
See what I mean? Was that really necessary? What a douche.
And he’s just getting started! Knowing that what set the whole adventure off was Nila’s kidnapping, Von Kraufen offers to reward their efforts by taken them to her at gunpoint. Naturally, Zarur wants to jump the mohawked German right then and there, but Professor Farrel tells him to wait — when the time is right, they’ll make their move.
After negotiating the winding hallways of the pyramid’s lower levels, the group finally comes to a long and dark hallway. Eventually they see a light at the end of the passage, and there they find the imprisoned Nila.
“Here you have it …”
SHA-ZAM!
Er, I mean … Von Kraufen reveals Nila, whom he has kept prisoner so he can get the secret of Ramses treasure out of her. The visit is just a tease, and Von Kraufen quickly has Makón throw everybody into a dank cell. That is, except for Zarur, someone Von Kraufen realizes can be used as leverage against Nila’s stubborn refusal to break.
“Zarur … my love …”
Seriously, how awesome is Makón? And just as a quick aside, I think it’s fantastic that — of all the things one could say when caught in an arm-breaking hold by a monstrous Neanderthal — Zarur chooses to say, “Hoo!”
Von Kraufen’s plan is simple — chain Zarur to a wall and have the shit whipped out of him until Nila agrees to share the secret of the treasure. And have the shit whipped out of him he does.
Panel: Brutally, the whip shreds Zarur’s flesh … without him uttering any protest …”
Having seen that Zarur is sufficiently bad-ass, Nila continues to refuse Von Kraufen’s demands. Finally, though, she can’t take Zarur’s suffering any longer and relents — she’ll show the evil mastermind how to reach Ramses’ treasure.
“That’s better, princess … stop, Makón!”
Makón seems like a guy who enjoys his work, doesn’t he? He’s not the only one, and confidence is at an all-time high in the Von Kraufen organization. Delighted to be on the verge of some old-school Egyptian riches, Von Kraufen has Nila lead his to the legendary tomb while Makón returns the tortured Zarur back to the cell. But out of nowhere, poetic justice makes an appearance!
“Suddenly, an arm of steel squeezes the throat of the bloodthirsty slave …”
Never let it be said Kalimán isn’t above dishing out a little of the bad guy’s own medicine. Or injecting it with the wall of a pyramid. Needless to say, Makón is thrown off (heh) by this turn of events, and Kalimán’s friends are plenty surprised themselves. To give them credit, they do handle it better than Makón does.
“Makón fled, horrified, believing he had seen a ghost …”
Makón, I heart you so much.
But how did Kalimán survive Makón’s vicious attack? How will they find Nila and the nefarious Von Kraufen in the maze of tunnels? Will there be a completely awesome fight scene at the end?! Come back next week to find out in the tomb-wrecking conclusion of “Los Profanadores de Tumbas!”
From Kalimán: El Hombre IncreÃble #10
“Los Profanadores de Tumbasâ€
Now that Marvel has announced yet another big crossover event series to follow its current snooze-inducing crossover event series, it occurs to me that maybe we could all use a familiar face. A reminder of simpler times. A sad clown to bring joy into our four-color lives.
Hey, you read BACK ISSUE magazine, right? Well, if you don’t you should give it a try this month — not only does issue #57 (coming out tomorrow!) focus on former DC Comics honcho Jenette Kahn, but you might even notice a familiar byline.
That’s right — Editor in Chief Michael Eury!
And also, me!
For this issue I wrote a small piece on Dollar Comics, a line of titles launched in 1977 that sported a larger page count and a $1 price tag. It was fun to write, the folks at BACK ISSUE are swell and I’m grateful Kahn was generous enough to squeeze me into her tight schedule for an interview. Did you know the former DC president, publisher and editor in chief is now a partner in Double Nickel Entertainment, the company that produced Gran Torino? The lady keeps busy, that’s for sure.
More importantly, considering the ongoing discussion on women in comics — as characters, creators and executives — it would be a good idea for comics fans to read about the most influential woman in the industry at a time when DC Comics enjoyed a period of unprecedented creativity and experimentation.
Bonus round: Hey, kids! In this unstaged snapshot, how many nerdy things can you see in the background?
I was watching the preview for the x-rated Birds of Prey XXX earlier (don’t you judge me!), and was struck by a couple of things:
Production values have really gone up since the days of scrambled cable channels
The acting, while nothing to make Meryl Streep nervous, isn’t so bad. In this brief clip, the Birds behave pretty much the way you’d expect them to, especially the hot-headed Huntress. Speaking of which …
What really jumped out at me was, those costumes? Completely accurate. Not tarted up at all. Which should remind fans of superhero comics just how ridiculous the designs for many female characters really are.
Here’s the SFW (except for a slurpy kiss and someone dropping the fuck-word) preview:
I’ve been a fan of science fiction for … well, for as long as I can remember. I don’t know if it was the battered copies of Analog and Asimov’s Science Fiction lying stacked in cardboard boxes at my aunt’s bookstore, or the Foundation set my mom got for me at an early age (there’s Asimov again), or the “aliens attack” movies my dad would sit me down in front of the TV to watch most Sunday afternoons. Whatever it was, it stuck.
I do know, however, that it was my friend Jon who gets credit for introducing me to cyberpunk at a time when it was factory-fresh, crackling with cold fusion-powered energy and William Gibson was already king. (Little did I know I was already years behind.) And with the delivery system he chose, he might as well have hit me with a highly addictive brick: Jon handed me Gibson’s Neuromancer and I never looked back.
In case you’re unfamiliar with the book (and the subsequent novels Count Zero and Mona Lisa Overdrive, rounding out the Sprawl trilogy), Neuromancer is the story of Case, a burned-out cyberspace hacker with dead nerves and seemingly no future in Chiba City. The future is a slippery thing, though, and soon Case is hooked up with Molly (a cybernetically enhanced “razorgirl” with ninja skills and mirrorshades implants) and working for ex-military officer Armitage, who promises Case a cure in exchange for his help. That, as they say, is just the beginning.
Some of this might sound a little silly when you’re just reading a description, but Gibson is such a deft and lyrical writer that the reader is drawn in deep with the first page — hell, I was hooked with the very first line. It’s also worth noting a lot of the ideas that might seem old hat now were originally Gibson’s (“cyberspace” is the most used example — the author coined it), and a frighteningly large number of the concepts he came up with are now common, real-life technology. His writing is spare, tough and though-provoking, always with a look to the future even when a book is set in the almost-now, and I can say without hesitation that he is my absolute favorite writer. And while it may seem dated today, the art and design of this particular cover really distills the feel of Neuromancer for me; fractured, high-tech, and still horribly, recognizably human.
I’m pretty far from what anyone would consider a “hawk.” I’m generally opposed to armed conflict, and have been specifically outspoken against the fronts the United States has put itself on in the last few decades. But there’s a distinction that some people — of all political stripes — tend to overlook. While I detest war on principle, I fully support a person’s decision to join the military, and I’m exceptionally grateful for their service and willingness to put themselves in a position that could literally come at the cost of their life.
My dad was in the Air Force. My uncle was a Marine. My oldest friend was in the Navy. Many more friends served in the Army. Luckily, they all came home, more or less intact. All of them have some of the most hilarious stories to tell that I’ve ever heard. Some of them have things they don’t talk about.
I might not always agree with the reasons for going to war, but I never forget that it’s people — real, everyday people — who fight in them. Saying thanks seems like the least I can do.
In my mind, this was going to be yet another post apologizing for the lack of posting, swearing to do better, blah blah blah. But then I realized — you don’t give a shit. So what the hell am I so worried about?!
As the metaphorical-you might’ve guessed, I’ve been a little burnt out. On comics (superhero comics, mostly), the lack of interaction here (even from friends, for Christ’s sake) and the online comic book community.
Oh, man, the comic book “community” — with a few exceptions, it’s the most insular, Mean-Girls-on-the-prom-committee group of people like I haven’t seen since I was first able to drive myself somewhere. When I first started blogging about comic books I was inspired by three people who had gotten there way before I did; since then, one has “retired,” another is making his own comics, and the last is part of a group that tends to be very pleased with itself. I’ll leave it to you, Cricket-in-my-Pocket, to conjecture on who is who. But at one point, these writers (and others) reminded me of the joy I got out of comics, so much so that it made me want to share that with other people, too.
There is very little joy in the comics community now. Or in comics in general, for that matter.
But I’ve decided that’s really not my problem. My problem has been listening to it, and I’m going to try to avoid doing that now. As the Joker so wisely said once, sometimes towns need an enema, and that goes for brains that have been crammed with bullshit, too. What does that mean for you, the imaginary reader? More Kalimán, more Adventures in Sound, more talk about comics from smaller publishers. And while I’ve caught a lot of hell — deservedly — for dropping the ball on it, the Movie Club will make a reappearance.
Other than that, no promises. I can’t promise any of it will be good (though I’ll try). I can’t promise it’ll be on a regular schedule (though I’ll try — for me more than you, sorry). I can promise, though, that this will be the last self-indulgent, rant-filled post I squeeze out here.
I’m tired of bitterness and cynicism and cooler-than-thou posturing. I’m ready for some joy.
I really hadn’t planned on getting into the controversy surrounding the imminent releases of DC’s Before Watchmen series and Marvel’s Avengers movie — David Brothers, after all, had said everything that needed to said, with an eloquence and passion that spoke volumes without needing more noise muddying the signal.
But on Facebook today I linked to an article on The Beat (which also touched on the firing of Chris Roberson after he was publicly critical of DC, where he was working on Fairest), and in writing a follow-up comment it turned out I did have something to say, after all. I’m reprinting it here to share with you, and to get it off my chest. It’s far from a complete statement on the situation, but I’m putting it here as originally written ( you’ll have to forgive the “quote” format); we can continue the discussion in the comments if it comes to that.
One of the things that bothers me most is the way DC, Marvel and the fanboys go out of their way to say, “Well, shitty contracts are part of the business – they’ll know better next time.” This is not the way publishers should be treating their creators. Or, if you want to put it into business terms, this is not the way companies should be treating their cash cows. Alienating your creators, and some of your customer base, is bad business.
But just on the simple face of it, the situation these creators have found themselves in is wrong. Sure, DC and Marvel are in the legal right, but they are morally wrong and, dammit, that is important. The publishers are under no legal obligation to do more than they are now — but simply because they managed to hand the dirty end of the stick to their former employees doesn’t mean it’s a situation they have to take advantage of in perpetuity. Contracts are renegotiated all the time; the fact neither DC or Marvel care to is evidence that turning a buck on the backs of others is more important to them than doing right by the people who brought them success in the first place.
I think what the people at Marvel and DC are missing is that much of the anger directed at them isn’t really because of the way the creators were treated originally. I don’t think most of the people in charge now were even around back then. The anger is due to the way the creators continue to be willfully mistreated today. In the Bad Old Days, shitty contracts and screwing over the talent was commonplace. But that doesn’t mean it’s the way the publishers should be conducting their business — and their simple interactions with creators — today. Not by a long shot.
