V1991: The Legends of NASCAR

The Legends of NASCAR (1991) #1-13
by a whole bunch of people

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

Yes, if you’ve been reading this blog series from the start (and if you have… why?), that’s what you’re saying now.

“WHAT THE FUCK! I CAME HERE FOR YUMMY FUR AND OTHER COMICS ABOUT PENIS MUTILATION! WHAT”S THIS SPORTS SHIT!”

I hear you, man. I hear you.

In the most shocking turnabout possible for a publisher, Bill Marks started publishing NASCAR comics. But this isn’t as strange as it may seem: Remember, Bill Marks is something of a cheery huckster (at least that’s how he comes off in interviews), and making money is surely something a huckster should try to do? I mean, instead of publishing art comics like Paradax!, Nocturnal Emissions and Yummy Fur?

And besides, Bill Marks did some NASCAR driving himself for about a year? I think? Or was it some other kind of racing? I swear I’ve read that he did racing for a while, but now I can’t find it…

ANYWAY.

I was kinda excited to get to this part of the blog series, because I was just curious what these comics were going to be like. Would the publisher of Black Kiss do some kind of avant-garde brain meltdown take on NASCAR, or would it be a simple cash grab, where he gets the cheapest artists available to just churn out some shit?

Let’s read the first four pages of the first issue.

Well. Somewhere in between? Herb Trimpe is a veteran illustrator… so I’m sure Marks could have found somebody cheaper? And, no, these comics aren’t exciting: They’re totally lame.

The first few issues are the “origin story” of some driver or other: About how they grey up wanting to drive cars, and then they drove cars.

Sometimes there’s a slight hint at some drama (these guys are just shocked that Bill Elliott is as good as he is), but that’s as far as it goes: It’s really dreary reading. I mean, I guess Elliott’s family would enjoy reading this? Perhaps his friends? I’m finding it hard to believe that even his fans would, because it’s just so … flat.

But at least there’s trading cards.

With… interesting… stats…

Join the Bill Elliott fan club! And you can also subscribe to the collector editions of this series, which has holograph foil things. “By popular demand”.

That’s some nice NASCAR gear.

And you can get officially licensed 8×10″ portraits of the divers. Looks great.

Michael Barsky/Charles Barnett III draws a few of these issues (and Beth Tuschak writes), and… er… what can I say. The storytelling is clear?

This is the only page of drama and excitement in this issue.

Dan Spiegle does the pencils on the fourth issue (with a gaggle of different inkers), and I was all excited for a second.

But look at this. Could you possibly make race car driving less exciting?

I mean, I’m not opposed to the concept. I’ve read more than my share of Michel Vaillant comics over the years, and it’s about half racing (and the other half is solving the mystery of who sabotaged their cars this time), and it’s fun. You can do car races in comics and have it work. Here it often seems like the artists have never seen a car before in their lives. And I expected more of Dan Spiegle.

Vortex gets a new, more colourful logo.

Things pick up in the fifth issue, written by Jerry Potter. It’s like an actual story (it’s Sterlin Marlin’s life story), and it’s … I mean, it’s not good, but in comparison to the issues before this, it’s a masterpiece.

Oooh! That’s one of those holograms? Looks pretty neat. When you change the angle it kinda morphs and elongates.

Mike Kenny takes over the colouring, and I think that does wonders. These pages kinda pop, and now racing is almost exciting. (Pencils by Jean Paul Mackenzie and inks by the III guy.) It has a rough-hewn charm. I like it.

The story is kinda still not actually there, but it’s very true to its sources, I’m guessing — lame sportsy quotes and all.

And then! Dan Spiegle is back! And this time he doesn’t half-ass it! Now the cars look like cars and there’s all kinds of fun touches. It’s, unfortunately, perhaps the most boring issue of them all, story-wise, but it looks really good.

You can get an art print of Rob Moroso along with the Rob Moroso trading cards.

Don Heck does the artwork on one of the issues, and while he’s not very good at drawing cars, he manages to inject a lot of action and drama into the people on the page.

What?! I don’t have that illustrated screenplay. Oh well, I never promised that this would be a complete (re-)reading of everything Vortex published? Did I? Because it’s not; I don’t have issues 11-13 of this series, for instance. I mnea, there are limits.

*sigh* What can I say? Artwork by Paul Abrams and the III guy, and… it’s… it’s horrible, OK? It’s the worst cars ever drawn.

Ever.

The final issue I have is the tenth, and again it’s got spiffy artwork by Dan Spiegle, and is written by Nat and JJ Gertler. And instead of telling the story about a boy that wanted to drive cars and then *surprise* he got to drive cars, it’s about the Talladega race track.

It’s basically just of anecdotes about stuff that’s happened at Talladega, but it’s structured around two mechanics bitching at each other and recounting these stories, and it works. I could totally see being into this comic if I were a Talladega fan.

Wow. The first issue (about Bill Elliott) had at least three printings, and the second issue about him is sold out. I guess he was popular? And these comics actually sold?

Well, good on them. There’s nothing offensive about these comics, really — most of them are bad comics, but it looks like the NASCAR fans must have liked them, so…

Let’s see if anybody has reviewed these comics out on the big world wide web…

Nope. There’s a bunch of people selling them on ebay, but nobody seems to have written about them?

Oh, well.

This blog post is part of the Into the Vortex series.

V1990: S’Not for Kids

S’Not for Kids (1990) #1,
S’Not for Kids (1991) #1
by Matso and a bunch of other people

I bought the first issue of this at the time, but didn’t know there was a Vortex connection. And perhaps there isn’t?

No publisher listed. Assumed to be Vortex due to Vortex being the publisher of S’not For Kids V2#1.

Anyway, I thought the first issue was really good back then, but I haven’t read it in a few decades.

It’s ostensibly an anthology, but Matso (or Mazzo, as it’s spelled here) does at least half of the pages, and I’m not sure the other contributors actually exist? They have names like “Donald Dick” and “Max Malice”…

Matso’s primary story in the first issue is a classic underground horror story with clear EC influences. Matso’s artwork manages to look unhinged and accomplished at the same time; it’s very attractive.

The story’s pretty fun, and it doesn’t follow traditional O. Henry rules. I mean, there’s a twist of sorts, but it’s… not exactly what you’d expect?

The other contributors (if they exist) are less accomplished. But you have to admire the insanity. (And I’m not giving you snaps of the pages of incest and rape; being all transgressive was really popular at the time. OK, Mike Diana is still a couple years off, I guess?)

The other long story in the first issue is by Donald Dick, and the art style is wild and accomplished. It ends with that guy cutting off the devil’s (I think) penis, and then eating it before fucking the devil (who’s a hermaphrodite). I think?

Anyway, strong first issue.

The second issue is squarebound and has … MAX ANDERSSON! My favourite. This is a very early Andersson story, and I wasn’t aware of him being this influenced by Mark Beyer — he dropped that pretty quickly, I guess? Anyway, it’s a totally out there surreal story, and it’s great.

Don’t you hate it when that happens!

I guess this is made on a computer? Good joke, though. I’m not sure who made this; the table of contents is a bit unclear…

Roger L. Licot’s very chatty post-apocalyptic story is the only thing that really fails here. The verbiage never stops, and it’s hard to care.

It’s a classic of violent absurdity.

Amazing Heroes #185 has the first issue as being published by Stromberg Publishing:

Googling that name doesn’t reveal anything interesting… Ah! Stromberg! Mats Stromberg! It’s Matso’s name! So he self-published the first issue?

That cover is the inside front cover of the first issue I have, so … perhaps… Vortex reprinted it?

I’m unable to find any discussion of these books on the interweb.

This blog post is part of the Into the Vortex series.

Comics Daze

Man, I’ve totally screwed up my sleeping schedule again… getting up at two in the morning wasn’t really my plan.

But, OK, what better way to spend the night than reading comics, eh? Eh?

04:00: Future #1-2 by Tommi Musturi (Boing Being)

Wow! Haven’t seen anything like this in a while: It’s a one-person anthology in pamphlet form (from Finland).

The level of talent on display here is amazeballs.

The reality show parody stuff is a let-down, but the rest is fantastic.

04:25: Flamer by Mike Curato (Henry Holt)

Cutesy art style… and yet another story about a sensitive kid being bullied, religious damage, and woe is me and stuff? Not very excited.

So this is where I’m saying “BUT THIS ONE IS GOOD!”

But it’s not really. It’s kinda… middling? The kid comes off as a bit creepy, which I don’t think was the intention, and the while the artwork sometimes is a bit more inspiring, it’s kinda … just … pedestrian?

But it’s fine. It’s mildly entertaining. And some of the scouting stuff was interesting.

05:19: La théorie du grain de sable by Schuiten & Peeters (Faraos)

What? Schuiten & Peeters are still at it with their series of the mysterious cities? Or is this something old? Hm… 2010…

I love the way this is printed: The pages look like they’re naturally beige, but they have to be printed that way, right? So that you can have magical white bits pop.

Reading this is strangely nostalgic. I mean, it’s just like those weird, slightly spiritual French-ey comics from the 70s. And I mean that in a good way. It looks gorgeous, of course, but it’s got that feeling of something odd going on (beyond the already-odd story), like… Ici même by Tardi, or… well, Schuiten and Peeters.

I really enjoyable read, even if you can’t really say that the storyline is… er… well-developed.

But perhaps a bit on the long side? Still lovely.

06:18: The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud by Kuniko Tsurita (Drawn & Quarterly)

I keep buying these Ryan Holmberg-edited collections of Japanese comics, hoping that one of them will turn out to be, like, actually good. (I’m looking at you, Man Without Talent: Meh-o-rama.)

And this is it! This is finally a good collection!

It’s all kinds of fabulous. It’s funny, it’s moving, it’s angry, it’s bitter, it’s strange. And the artwork keeps evolving; keeping it interesting.

It’s a wonderful collection.

07:20: Tif et Tondu: Métamorphoses by Will & Desberg (Zoom)

The Danes keep issuing translations of this not-very-beloved French-ey children’s series, and I keep buying it, for some reason.

It’s not particularly good. Will’s artwork is very basic — it’s difficult to tell the characters apart, and the action scenes aren’t very exciting.

Still… I don’t know… it’s kinda entertaining?

I should probably stop buying these.

07:53: Nap time

13:58: I’m awake! I’m awake!

Man, that was a good nap.

14:46: Nori by Rumi Hara (Drawn & Quarterly)

Very topical!

Man, this is such a good book. I was slightly sceptical at first — the storytelling felt a bit choppy, but then it all gelled: the mixture of reality and whimsy is so fluid (she probably didn’t knock that other girl’s tooth out).

And you know some books have a cumulative sense of humour, where everything just gets funnier and funnier? This book just gets more and more moving, until at the end I’m tearing up at pages of people just walking down the street.

Not that it’s not funny. It’s very funny, too.

This book is such a delight. And such a surprise. Comic book of the year?

15:55: Wendy: Master of Art by Walter Scott (Drawn & Quarterly)

I’ve read a bunch of the Wendy comics over the years, and I guess… I like them? I do. But Scott doesn’t make it easy: His art style is so relentlessly unattractive. The one thing I do like is the faces people make when eating or sipping (lower left hand panel). That’s pure genius.

The punchline endings to every er chapter is… well, it’s a structuring device, I guess. It kinda works?

I feel like this is a book that wants me to either love it or hate it: Scott wants to be provocative, I think. But I’m kinda just… I like it? A bit? It’s somewhat stupid and pedestrian, but it’s also intermittently entertaining?

So erudite. That’s me.

17:08: The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Cartoonist by Adrian Tomine (Drawn & Quarterly)

Another book from D&Q!? What the.

You know when you’re trying to fall asleep and you mind keeps going over all the embarrassing things and humiliating situations you’ve ever experienced? Well, Tomine has collected all those things and put them on the page here.

On the one hand, you really want to commend him for his honesty: He’s not leavening things much (I think?): He depicts himself as a hapless, hopeless nerd… and I think he asks us to laugh at himself?

But the thing is, it’s a really painful read. These situations are so genuinely embarrassing that I just wanted to put the book away.

But I’m glad I didn’t, because things change a bit about the half-way point.

17:57: Glork Patrol on the Bad Planet by James Kochalka (Top Shelf)

Always loves me some Kochalka. This one is funny, as usual.

18:04: The Winter of the Cartoonist by Paco Roca (Fantagraphics)

This is apparently the true story of five cartoonists that started their own magazine in the late 50s in Spain.

The problem is that there’s a couple dozen characters in here, and they all look and dress the same (with one exception), and they all have names that are unfamiliar to me (but will be very familiar to fans of Spanish children’s comics), so it’s a bewildering read. I found myself flipping back and forth all the time to confirm that the penny-pinching guy with the slightly smaller stache wasn’t the same as the guy with the slightly larger stache, and in the end, the story wasn’t interesting enough to make that effort worth it.

I’m sure this book would be of interest to old Mortadelo y Filemón fans, though. (I find that strip to be kinda … nauseating.)

19:16: Lost in NYC by Nadja Spiegelman & Sergio García Sánchez (Toon)

This children’s book is well-made and pretty exciting (well, I’d have thought so if I were a child, I’m thinking), but it feels strangely out of time: It’s about getting lost on Manhattan (which is scary in itself), but a thing that’s not a thing any more: Presumably all kids have phones these days, so “losing touch with each other” must seem like such an alien concept. I can just picture kids trying to puzzle out whether this book was set in the dark ages or something.

Some true and tried plots just don’t work any more.

But it’s very edumacational.

19:29: Den magiske spinel by Peter Wandel and Rasmus Meisler (Cobolt)

This book is co-published by a Danish museum, and it’s all about Muslim artworks (and Sufism). The art in this comic is very photo-based, but it’s pretty sprightly anyway.

It’s not much of a story, though: A guy finds a mysterious object and then travels through time (ish) to meet people who can tell him about the object. It does have a pretty fun ending, though.

This is also very edumacational. I mean, it would have been if I’d read these pages.

19:48: I Know You Rider by Leslie Stein (Drawn & Quarterly)

Yet another D&Q book!

I’ve always really enjoyed Stein’s artwork… but I’m not enjoying it here. It feels like she’s taken her style one step too far?

On some of these pages I have a hard time making out what’s even happening.

That said, this is a lovely book. I really like the pacing and the structure, and the melancholic-but-not-sad tone throughout the book. And I kinda sniffled at the end.

THERE! I SAID IT!

20:27: The End

I think… that’s enough comics for one day; my mind has turned into an even mushier sort of mush than it usually is.

Even with the ahem nap in the middle.

V1990: Mister X Special

Mister X Special (1990) #1
by Pete Milligan, Brett Ewins and others

This is billed as “Special no. 1”, which probably means that there was a bunch of Mister X specials planned, but this one was the only one published. It’s a 24-page black and white book, but with cardboard covers, and what was probably a scandalous price for its time: $3.

And they have the nerve to do a Lorem Ipsum text on the inside front cover. Anyway, let’s read the first three pages.

So this is about Mister X inventing a machine to allow himself to dream, and he dreams of his mother, and insects, and….

And then it turns out that the reason Mister X never sleeps isn’t because there’s so much to do and so little time to do it in, but because he doesn’t want to sleep, perchance to dream, because it turns out that he was SPOILERS sexually abused as a child.

*sigh*

You have the infinitely intriguing Radiant City concept to play with, and this is what you come up with? Could it be more dreary? Could it?

Well, I guess it could, because Ewins’ artwork is kinda fun. Sure, collages have been done, and these aren’t particularly inventive, but it could certainly have been worse.

I think this story was included in the Mister X: The Brides of Mister X and Other Stories collected edition from Dark Horse?

I couldn’t find any reviews of this story.

This blog post is part of the Into the Vortex series.

BC&B: Tian de Légumes w/ La Brandade de Morue de Madame Cartet

Another day (or week or something), another book to read and another couple of dishes from the Bistro Cooking book by Patricia Wells.

Only two more posts to go, though: I’m running out of books from that cubby. So today we have:

A veggie gratin! With… courgettes and aubergine and stuff. But mostly those two things.

Hm… I may have bought too much… the recipe specified small courgettes and aubergines, and I got big ones.

I’ll just use half as many.

So choppy the aubergines into rounds…

… and the zucchinis…

… and the onions…

Are you seeing a pattern here?

Oh, and then choppy the thyme. Well. Scissoring the thyme.

I think that should be a hit disco song: Scissoring the Thyme.

And then everything into the gratin dish. That’s a gratin dish, right? So first rubbing the garlic on the bottom of the dish. That’s very old-fashioned, I think? Rubbing the garlic? It’s from before they realised that you could actually eat the garlic instead of wave it around the dish…

And then all the onion on the bottom, sprinkled with olive oil and thyme…

And then just layering. Aubergine…

Courgettes…

Tomatoes.

And then repeat for another three layers, and there’s thyme, salt and olive oil on each layer.

Those tomatoes really smell tasty, as does the thyme. I have no idea what this will all taste like in the end, though… I’m surprised that I wasn’t supposed to peel the aubergine, for instance.

And then all foiled up and into the oven for an hour. With the foil over the entire time? Hm. I’m guessing this is gonna come out really… wet?

I have to admit to being all sceptical and stuff.

So while it’s er cooking, let’s look at the book:

It’s Yann Andréa Steiner by Marguerite Duras. Oh la la; a totally French day today.

I’ve only read a handful of Duras books, but it’s been decades, I think… I’ve watched a bunch of her movies, though: They’re fabulous.

Let’s read the first three pages of this book:

Oops! It’s a Norwegian translation, so I guess I’ll just read that on my own…

Yes, looks pretty good.

The gratin is done! Hm… looks quite fresh, still, and not as wet as I was expecting.

Hm… this isn’t really meant to be served as a mains (heh heh, I can imagine the French shock at the thought), but I haven’t eaten anything all night, and I didn’t make anything else, so.

Hm… well, it is just these veggies, and it’s not very… filling?

But it has all these bright flavours. The tomato flavours dominate, but there’s also a very fresh thyme thing going on here (as opposed to a cooked thyme thing), and then the courgettes. I don’t really taste the aubergines, but there’s a very… edible nom nom thing going on.

It’s not a thing that makes you go “OH MY GOD THIS THING”, but it’s a thing that I found difficult to stop eating. The flavours are just so light and bright; it seems like you’re eating nothing at all.

So I finished off almost half? a third of this thing?

That’s like abnormal.

Very edible. I guess it is really a sum of the ingredients, but it doesn’t take anything away from them either, but instead allows them to be themselves.

So now that I’ve done the er starter, I’m doing another starter: But this time it’s fishy!

So it’s got these ingredients…

Salt cod, watered for a couple of days, and then steeped for 15 minutes…

Potatoes…

Garlic…

And then into the food processor.

Blitz blitz, along with some hot olive oil and some hot cream.

It’s a brandade!

Hm…

It’s very tasty… as a starter.

I totally love salt cod, and I was getting tired of eating this during the first toast, so it’s not a good er dessert.

It’s very flavour forward: The garlic is… a lot. The texture is quite pleasant, but it’s something you want to eat like 70g of and not 700g, which is what I think I ended up with.

I like it. But I think some would find it challenging: It’t really fishy, and it’s really garlicey. Perfect half-a-toast kind of thing.

Goes really well with the book, which is kinda ruminative and vague. It’s not quite clear how these characters are connected, or whether Duras is just imagining thinking about these children while shacking up with this Yann Andréa Steiner…

It’s pretty spiffy. And very brief.

This blog post is part of the Bistro
Cooking & Books series.