We're Not Quite Done Yet, and Already We're Nostalgic:
The Infection of Time, Or,
A Sunday Morning Peek at
Joe Lambert's CCS Photos --

As I spend the weekend pouring over an incredible array of final thesis projects from the Center for Cartoon Studies seniors and gifts of final projects from most of the CCS freshmen (soon to be seniors!), I'm moved to steer you to

Joe Lambert's pix of the May 2nd CCS Drawing Workshop session in my new backyard,

which was immediately followed that very afternoon with a drawing session from this miniature city we had constructed the week before -- a whirlwind of activity Joe has also documented via pix (scroll down to Joe's "Box City" photo album posting).

Left: Morgan Piellizilla. Hey, we still have to 'Godzilla' the city, guys and gal!

All of Joe's pix illuminate this old Myrant post on a recent Drawing Workshop exercise, if you want more context --

-- and although we're only two days past the completion of final projects (for both classes), I'm already revisiting and working on revised Drawing Workshop syllabus outlines to streamline and improve the whole two-semester effort for next year. Sigh. So little time, so much to draw and teach.

Joe's blog is always worth a visit, currently opening with photos from the CCS trip to Montreal (including a peek inside the Drawn & Quarterly offices, for those curious about that megalithic corporate universe) and other CCS activities. Thanks, Joe!

(More CCS in Montreal pix are here, compliments of fellow freshmen Penina Gal. Thanks, Penina!)

Here's a link to a venue for some of Joe's comics, too, which are -- well, excellent.

(Fair is fair: since I'm linking in thanks to Joe's sites, Penina's fine illos and comics creations are also visible here, and they're pretty damned good, too.)

Now, before I get into today's intensive reading, re-reading and note-taking from the thesis projects, I'm off to the flea market -- yep, it's that time of year.

Clear, sunny, but cold -- ah, flea market season in a new part of Vermont. What wonders await me?

Have a great Sunday, one and all --

Yip! Yip! Yip!

In
the
Realm
of
the
New
Cartoonists...

Hey, all -- Be sure to read the earlier post today (Bava! Tim! Donna! Below!), as that's the big news today (well, to me, anyhoot) -- but as promised, here's some more links to the CCS sites & blogs the students have created.

It's a wide-open dreamspace, doorways to much inspiration, hard work and new voices and visions.

Don't be shy, check 'em out, and please, let them know what you think!

The ever-humble, ever-drawing JP Coovert keeps the ink flowing and comics glowing here, though they're having a bit of a prob with the site just now -- still, go have a peek, and make yourself known.

A bit closer to the apocalypse, ink-slinging Sean Ford spices this site with his distinctive fusions of darkness and light, ink and white.

Here be Chuck Forsman, whose canine Cerberus seems to keep Chuck from posting much; don't mind the pup, his bark is worse than his blog! -- ah, heck, his dog is guarding the blog, like I said, but you'll be OK. Check it out!

Stripy Green Tomato is the reservation Penina Gal hangs at in virtual space, and her site is pretty inventive -- take some time to navigate it, you'll not be sorry!

More tomorrow!

See, Your Tuesday Is Already Better Than You Know...

Hallelujah! We've averted another potential catastrophe!

James Cameron unveiled the coffins, and the world did not end.

I need say no more.

Some of you frequenting this blog may recall

I didn't have much use for Neil LaBute's atrocious remake of The Wicker Man,

and despite the promise of an "alternative ending not seen in theaters!", I've had no desire whatsoever to revisit LaBute's atrocity on DVD. The only way to revisit the film, or sample its hilarity, is to do what CCS student Penina Gal does, and laugh heartily every single day at

this hilarious condensation of The Wicker Man remake highlights, including footage not in the theatrical cut I saw (the ludicrous bees-over-the-head sequence: "Not my eyes!")

The beehive-over-the-head bit is truly ludicrous.

I was still zonked with this cold yesterday, though by about 4 PM I was doing much better. Still in the zone earlier in the day, I caught The Number 23 matinee in Lebanon, and wasn't particularly impressed. Full review to follow as part of the ongoing Cine-Ketchup column, but suffice to say it's essentially a Hollywood

revamp of Lance Weiler's Head Trauma,

with family ties attached for optimum loss/redemption options in the final act.

Having completed prep for Peter Money and my big CCS Wednesday field trip (completing said final prep with Marge's help at our dining room table, studiously avoiding dining), Marge and I also darted out last night at her urgent request (she had a rough day at work yesterday) to see The Snake Pit (1947) at Bruce Posner's Cine-Salon screening series at the Hanover Library, and that was big fun. If nothing else, it put Marge's tough work day in stark relief as being a lot better than having a nervous breakdown over and over and waking up after repeated shock treatments to find months had passed and -- well, you get the idea. Marge claims not to know the function of horror movies, but whenever she needs a weepie like this one, it's clear she does understand fully, she just refuses to engage. Anyhoot, Olivia deHaviland's performance still engages, even if the sanitized view of big-city asylums (the 20th Century Fox madhouse still shocked audiences of its day; Frederick Wiseman's Titicut Follies exposed the real conditions of such institutions two decades later) and streamlined Hollywood take on psychiatry pitch into the risible when seen today.

I awoke this morning not wearing a water balloon filled with A-number-one snot on my neck, so the cold is at last passing.

On to Marge.

No playing hooky today -- full day of work, off I go!

Wugga-wugga and the CCS Sites!

Art: Alexis Frederick-Frost, from his glorious site, link below!

Continuing the CCS student site roster, with a little window-dressing.

Once again, in no particular order, the secret windows to those you don't-yet-know, but will one day be beholden to, those who will upset all applecarts and elect far better Presidents than you sorry suckers did:

BUBBLE!

... with delight,
blurbling like some half-frozen brook
all over your own stupid self,
as you allow your retina to dance
and your optic nerve to tangle
and your brain soup to flow
like radiant water over the

the Stone-Dead Stylings of Bryan Stone!

BURBLE!

... and coo like some moronic all-parakeet movie,
dropping your flip-flops and
burning your Birkenstocks
while groping for your credit cards
as you let your wallet flop out
and your pocketbook pop open,
eager to spend that which cannot be spent
and divine the most delicious salad
from the salad days of all mankind amid

the Stripy Green Tomato Veggie-Stand of the Particular Penina Gal (rhymes with 'all')!

GURGLE!

... as you peddle
that last mile
up that final Alp,
rock uselessly in your chair
like an autistic child
as the roller-coaster climbs, climbs, climbs
to the top of the arc
seconds before the plunge,
long for yeasty Parisian loafs of bread
and pine for times that never were
and never will be again,
evocative though they may seem
when rendered by the man
with the brush whose
serving stroke cuts through the air
like a Bruce Lee move,
dropping faint men in their tracks,
if, that is, they haven't already succumbed
to the bedazzlement that marks the

Eye-Popping Peculiarities of Ping-Pong Champ Alexis Frederick-Frost!

STUBBLE!

Hey, YOU!

You think YOU know everything, DON'T YOU?
You think YOU know how to
listen to music, surf the web, eat a taco??
You're soooooooooo fucking WRONG!
You don't know shit! Or how to shit!
You, you need guidance, love,
and the firm, stern hand of
a real man who knows how
to sling the ink,
plink the plink,
and lock the clink
to be your designated turnkey for LIFE!
You need to open your eyes,
stretch your ears
and break down the tight-ass gates of your fetid mind via

the Melodic Musings and Shamanistic Shamblings of Gasping Sam Gaskin!

STUMBLE!

...into the felt-green pleasures of Roosevelt Park,
as rendered and realized
by the Man with the Plan,
the Joe in the Know,
the Mike with his finger in the Dyke,
the Tom with the tom-tom toes,
the Henry all hanker for,
the Elmer Fudd of Spud,
the Dartmouth Grad unafraid to be a Dad
to any in need who can bleed and be freed,
so humble thyself and embrace

the Staff of Life itself, Adam Staffaroni,

and his amazing online CCS mini-comic shop, "I Know Joe Kimpel"! (who the hell is Joe Kimpel?)

C'mon, spend a little dough on some CCS comics, you slackers!

More later, gators, and have a great weekend!