PX87: Buzzbomb

Buzzbomb by Kaz (280x380mm)

OK, here’s my deepest, darkest secret: I’m not really much of a Kaz fan. So I haven’t read this book since it was published, and I pretty much forgot that it existed — otherwise I would have covered it in the Fantagraphics blog series.

So: This is a big (Raw-sized) saddle-stitched collection of Kaz strips published by Fantagraphics.

The designer seems to be going after the Raw/punk/post-modern design aesthetic, but… kinda doesn’t get there at all? Wrong font and haphazard placement of the elements. Even the cover stock (very shiny and thick) just feels off.

On the other hand, Kaz looks exactly like you’d imagine.

Almost all if this is reprinted from various sources, but the sources aren’t specified and comics.org isn’t very helpful, either.

Raw reprinted the first three issues of the magazine as Read Yourself Raw around this time, and the Kaz strip(s) from those issues were left out from Read Yourself Raw. Perhaps because they’d just been reprinted, or… other reasons.

I do often like Kaz’ design sense (especially here, where he’s basically cribbed everything from Mark Beyer), and I like the stark graphic qualities in his rendering, but these are basically traditional underground gags in new dressing.

The vast majority of these pieces are strongly narrative, but the stories are pretty shaggy and not very well-though-out. There doesn’t seem to be any subtext here: These stories are as shallow as they come.

He was a student at the SVA at the time, which explains these exercises in exploring form, but he’s going over territory that’s pretty well-covered.

I guess “so what!” is pretty punk, but… so what.

Gregory Cwiklik writes in The Comics Journal #192, page 47:

Buzzbomb has some Of the artist’s earliest and
least accomplished work, but also some of his best,
like the expressionistic punk noir Tot,” and the
volume ‘s large-scale format and appropriately pulpy
paper stock show the better artwork to dramatic
advan tage.
The fledgling strips that Kaz produced in the
early 1980s are mostly single-page gag strips of the
sick humor variety and the artwork in them is rather
amateurish. Their saving grace is Kais creative page
layout, Often inspired by classic newspaper strips.
But even in these early pieces there is a clear the-
matic consistency With his later work; there is the
same concern with overtly “dumb” humor, the ma-
cabre (one early page irreverently illustrates frag-
ments of verse taken from old gravestone inscrip-
lions). and With the meaning or meaninglessness Of
life. Like many other alternative cartoonists who
emerged in the 1980s, Kaz’s work is also grounded
stories take place in the industrial swamplands of
New Jersey were the sky is eternally black above a
landscape dominated by bleak factories and chemi-
cal plancs and littered with trash and toxic wastes.
The plots are absurd, surreal things dripping
with attitude and film noiratmosphere. In one epi-
sode Tot is brainwashed and conditioned by an
ambitious priest tostab the local bishop at the sound
Of the theme music from •l Dream Of Jeannie.”

The Comics Journal #122, page 23:

TWO PUBLISHERS DELAYED
PRINTERS REJECT BOOKS
Two books from different
publishers—Buzzbomb. by Kaz, from
Fantagraphics, and Peter Hsu’s self-
published Hellrazor Graphic Novel—
were delayed by printers who agreed
to print the books, then refused
because of objections to the books’
content.

[…]

Buzzbomb, a graphic album Of work
by Kaz (Kazimieras G. Prapuolenis),
was already several months late when
it was sent to Griffin Printing early this
year. The Glendale, California firm’s
refusal to print the book delayed
publication at least another five weeks,
according to Fantagraphics Publisher
Gary Groth.
Groth said he sent the tmks to Grif-
fin’s sales representative, who told
him that the book had approved,
whereupn Fantagraphics Sent an
advance deposit.
About four days later, a sales rep
from Griffin called Groth and told him
that they uould not print the bCX)k. The
Griffin sales rep said that the company
does a lot of business with publishers
Of religious material. and it was feared
that printing Buzzbomb might jeopar-
dize those accounts.
In a subsequent phone conversation
with Griffin’s president. Groth said,
the president refused to confirm the
sales rep’s story, but did say that he
personally found the book immoral.
Groth said Fantagraphics• check was
returned. and a new printer was found,
although at a higher price than
Griffin’s.

Wow.

You can still pick up copies of Buzzbomb pretty cheaply on ebay.

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.

PX84: Raw #6: The Graphix Magazine That Overestimates The Taste Of The American Public

Raw #6: The Graphix Magazine That Overestimates The Taste Of The American Public edited by Françoise Mouly and Art Spiegelman (269x359mm)

This is it: This is the first issue of Raw I read, and I was 15, and I thought it was the most amazing thing ever in the history of ever.

Sure; I’d read good comics before — Varenne, Hernandez, Pratt, etc — but this was something completely different.

Just look at that cover. Look at it!

And just look at this opening spread: A gorgeous, but very mysterious painting (Komar and Melomid), and a very stylish contents page. (And a way to buy older issues and sign up for a subscription. And… no extra charge for sending to non-US addresses! *gasp*)

And then we’re off with a five page Mark Beyer story about Tony Target: I can’t imagine anything more perfect for a pretentious fifteen-year-old. It mixes angst and ridicule of that angst perfectly. “It’s disgusting… it reminds me of myself somehow.” And then Tony lies down to die, but people walk all over him, so he gives up on that idea.

I remember reading this book over and over again, feeling very smug and smart indeed.

And then a Joost Swarte thing! What! I remember being so thrilled at seeing somebody working in the Herge idiom, but doing something modern.

There’s only a single text page here (a story about somebody visiting New York, which I identified with immediately).

There’s no editorial voice in this issue — it all comes decontextualised to the reader. There’s no editor saying “with this issue, we’re doing X, Y and Zed”, but instead everything is just here for the reader to ponder.

I’d never seen Muñoz and/or Sampaya either, and they have the longest thing in this issue: A 20 page story about a deranged European director working in Mexico. Reading it now, I guess it’s really a story about Alejandro Jodorowsky? The artwork’s so thrilling.

I also remember being fascinated by these ads… Danceteria… “In search of a lower common denominator: Independent Publications”… It’s very New York. And it’s fun to see ads for Big Ideas by Lynda Barry and Mark Marek’s New Wave Comics now.

Jayr Pulga does a very unnerving little piece.

I guess this two-pager by Jerry Moriarty is really just a funny anecdote, but it conveys so much through gestures. It’s gorgeous and somehow meaningful.

Hey, more ads… what do we have here… Anarcoma from Catalan… Clothing Warehouse!? Printed Matter still exists…

Anyway, the preceding pages were all well and good: Fabulous artwork with an oppressive (and exhilarating) mood… but that didn’t prepare me for the Maus insert, which is just heart-wrenching.

Reading it now, I can’t help notice that Spiegelman has both his step-mother and his father complimenting him on his Prisoner on the Hell Planet strip, which seems… er… slightly gauche? If I remember correctly, it was stuff like this that put Harvey Pekar off Maus and made him, for a couple of decades, the only person who dared say anything negative about Maus.

This chapter covers many of the same things Spiegelman previously had done in his “Maus” short a decade earlier, and it contradicts that strip in various small ways…

Things get a bit lighter with an intricately told Ben Katchor four-pager. I mean, it’s not hard to decipher, but it’s a very interesting reading experience.

Oh, yeah, this isn’t the copy I had as a teenager — I’ve got that framed on the wall here. Instead I got a new copy for reading, and… This one is from the Fantagraphics collection!? Or Dale Crain’s collection. Tee hee. Didn’t buy it until two years later, though.

Charles Burns shows up and does an amusing riff on 50s Romance (and Horror) comics. Look at those lines. So sharp!

Caro takes the angst to 11.

Mark Newgarden also did one of these strips for Bad News #2 (which I got shortly after I got this book)… I guess it’s a skit, basically? I remember just being fascinated with it all, and I still am. There’s some good jokes in there.

And then Gary Panter does a few more pages of his Jimbo story. Reading this totally out of context, as I did at the time, it came off as a punch to the stomach. There’s so much here, and it speaks directly to everything in my brain.

Reading this now, I’m amazed at how intense this issue is. It’s one sucker punch after another: It’s an emotional journey… so we get one Krazy Kat page to chill off with after the … ordeal.

This is just the most perfect issue of an anthology ever. There’s not a single piece in here that’s not an artist working at the peak of his (I don’t think there’s any women in this issue?) form, and everything seems to be in dialogue with everything else.

So, OK, I’m biased: I’ve read this book many, many times, and it was An Event in my life, and it help seed my love of New York and becoming a pretentious wise-ass, but… It’s kinda good, eh?

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.

PX88: Childhood is Hell

Childhood is Hell by Matt Groening (228x228mm)

I’m slightly fascinated by the relentless drive towards mainstream (i.e., bookstore) respectability for basically all the books I’m covering in this blog series. In the pre-mainstream era, there was a certain freedom with formats — mostly stapled things, and often oddball (too large/too small) formats.

This is a fun hybrid along the way: The three previous Life in Hell collections had been saddle-stitched, and this one is, too: Notice the staples. But it also has a spine, so that it’s easier to shelve. Is it the next volume that switches to a straight-up normal squarebound format? Watch this blog channel for updates! Subscribe and share and like!

Anyway, the previous volume was School in Hell, and Groening obviously had a lot to say about being a child, so we get this, which is, like, more. Having these two come after each other is a slightly odd choice — was I the only one that thought he had this volume already for years because he’d gotten it confused with School is Hell? He was? I mean, I was?

Darn!

TV is the best.

As usual when reading one of these books, I’m really into it, but I’m not exactly laughing out loud. And pages like this… I don’t know: I’m glad pages like this exist, but I’m not actually reading it, either.

Heh. A shout-out to Lynda Barry.

Oh, and Bart and Gary Panter’s Jimbo? Had The Simpsons started by now? Yes, indeed:

The shorts became a part of The Tracey Ullman Show on April 19, 1987.

This slightly earlier strip was the only one that had me laughing out loud.

Oh, that’s Gary Panter’s Rozz-Tox guy. So many references…

Me, too — there’s four variations on this strip in this book. The previous books only had a single one…

Adam-Troy Castro writes in Amazing Heroes #160, page 86:

One of Pat Benatar’s best songs is a
powerful rocker called “Hell Is For
Children.” Its resemblance to this
latest. collection by cartoonist Matt
Groening is not limited to title alone.
Both song and book deal with cruelty
to children. Both are the product of
artists ‘Åorking at the top of their form.
And both recognize that one of the
most tragic things about childhood
trauma is any child’s inability to fully
understand it.
But there the similarity ends, for
Groening goes farther than Benatar.
He reminds us, with acidically funny
writing and deliberately crude
artwork, that childhood is a painful
and bewildering time by definition,
and not just for those of us who grow
up in abusive homes.
Groening’s main character in this
collection is a one-eared, and there-
fore ridiculous-looking, anthropomor-
phic rabbit called Bongo. Bongo’s our
host for a series of strips on How To
Act Like A Child, with different
instructions for every age from one to
12. He shows us the silly things we
considered great humor at every stop
along the way. He shows us 16 kinds
of Moms, and also 16 kinds of Dads,
Brothers, and Sisters. He includes a
strip on “Your Pal The TV set.” All
of which are laugh-out loud funny.
There are also a number of single gag
strips, which are not nearly as funny.
The scenes of Bongo getting into
trouble at school or causing a mess
in the Kitchen read like second-rate
“Dennis The Menace” or 10th-rate
“Calvin and Hobbes.”
They don’t hold a candle to high
points like Groening’s exhaustive
Childhood Trauma Checklist, which
contains over 100 items ranging from
minutiae (cleaning your room, scrat-
chy new sweater, meeting another
child with your name), to unthinking
cruelty (being told “you’re just not
trying,” being called “lazy,” forced to
perform in front of parents’ friends)
to the dmvnright horrifying (locked in
closet, tortured, sexually molested).
The cumulative effect is very funny,
but it’s an uneasy kind of funny that
conjures up our own childhoods in
more detail than we may want to
remember them, and that’s more to
the point.
And then there’s “How To Deal
With Problem Parents,” which is not
funny at all, and is not meant to be.
It should be required reading for
everybody who’s thinking of having
children. And for everybody who’s
still dealing with emotional scars
inflicted during childhood. And—
most importantly—for kids. I myself
would have found it a great boost
when I was 10, and my parents were
only imperfect human beings who
made mistakes now and then. For
children living through genuine night-
mares, this little one-page comic strip
could be, quite literally, a lifesaver.
If you know any, please, please buy
them a copy of this book yesterday.
GRADE: MINT

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.