Issue 41: Tournament of Villainy
By Rascal Stallion

Jason Vorhees vs Goliath

Name: Jason Voorhees		Name: Goliath
Occupation: Unemployed	vs.	Occupation: Philistine warrior
Origin: Friday the 13th		Origin: The Bible: The Book of Samuel

Goliath and Jason stared each other down. This fight had been a long time coming. Point of fact, since I didn’t submit an article to the last issue of Nerd City and then we were delayed publishing this week this fight was delayed over three weeks. The anticipation has been overwhelming to the two warriors.

Goliath couldn’t take it any more. He raised his mighty sword and charged at his adversary. Jason silently stood and watched as his massive opponent approached. His cold eyes barely flinched as Goliath ran him through with his sword.

Leaving the long sword still sticking three feet though Jason’s chest, Goliath raised his arms in victory. Now to be fair, Goliath hadn’t read the scouting report on Jason but he should have been suspicious that the fight went down so easily. Still, it wasn’t exactly his gigantic brain he was known for. It was no surprise to anyone but Goliath when Jason looked down at the hilt in his chest and slowly withdrew the sword.

Goliath finally took notice of Voorhees removing the sword and grabbed it away from him. He then stepped back and took a mighty swing, this time at Jason’s head. Jason did not intend to be stabbed again. This time he grabbed the sword, one hand on the blade, the other on the hilt. His power took Goliath by surprise and despite the giant’s strength he took the sword from him.

Jason swung the blade. Goliath dodged what he expected to be a blow to his chest but was very disappointed to discover a moment too late that Jason’s target was actually his knee. The blade cleaved through the bones and tendon and completely severed the limb just below the knee.

The one-legged giant toppled to the ground. The fight wasn’t over yet, though. He grabbed Jason’s leg and with one hand above his knee and the other below, he destroyed all the ligaments in his knee.

Jason was wounded and crippled but retained the presence of mind to bring the sword around again. This time the sword dug into the flesh of the giant’s neck and sent his head toppling across the dirt.

Blood gushed from the open neck wound as Jason limped away to await his next battle.

Issue 41: Various and Sundry
By Statica

1969¢

If the circus is “The Greatest Show on Earth,” then my name is JC Penney.

I recently found myself on the outside of the center ring at a county circus. It was completely by accident. You see, I was traversing the countryside by a buggy powered by two actual horses from Dublin to London…Arkansas. The trip was going as planned. The atmosphere was placid and the air was pure and extremely oxygenated by the not-so-existent Arkansas rainforest. The air was actually polluted by gaseous fowl hovering no more than fourteen meters above my travel capsule…a capsule that used to be black but is now completely white. I would not call it an off-white…more of a poop white.

Now then, where was I?

Oh yes, after he stabbed me I found myself lying alone in a ditch filled with Ozarka spring water. I had been robbed of all my possessions: my wallet, Dr. Martin dress boots, even my magical monocle. This monocle allowed me to see into the future…of rock ‘n’ roll.

It was an incredible experience. I had only looked into it once for fear that it would steal my soul and bring judgment onto my people.

But the one time I looked into the mysterious lens, I was taken to a great field once used for raising pet corn. On this day, however, it had been conquered by a great people from a place called Hip. Upon a gargantuan platform stood a man…a very dark-skinned man. (Before this I had only heard there were such a charred people.) He was strapped into a medium-sized electronic device which seemed to have taken over his body and was using him as a medium through which to speak. His voice was deep with a regal growl as if he was proclaiming his majesty and well-being.

Then, without any warning at all, he let out something that, upon deep reflection, I determined to be a battle cry.

At this point everyone lying in the field stood at attention and obeyed every command that came forth from this dark god’s fiery, electric voice. Then a giant fireball came out of the sky and consumed everything and everyone in sight. Upon further inspection I found a deep hole and in this hole was some sort of container that contained, ironically, a baby.

This is my account of how I believe the world will come to an end 32 years from now in the year of our Lord 1969.

Issue 41: Sydney Brown's Sixty Seconds
By Sydney Brown

Sydney Brown’s Sixty Seconds

THEME WEEK!!!!!!

Well, I’ve been watching documentaries. Not intentionally, but it just so happens I have seen five lately. And it just so happens my column usually involves five movies. And it just so happens my intros are usually short, and here I am done with it.

Helvetica (2007) ***

A documentary about a font. A font? Yes. A font. A look at why the Helvetica font, created only fifty years ago, is the most used typeface in the world. The film also looks at graphical styles from the ‘50’s but it’s the interview subjects that make the film, from the egotistical to the flamboyant. The film’s strength is also its weakness as a few of the interviewees are just a tad dull. Though anecdotes about Coca-Cola using the font for print ads and how one might save a boring Bryan Ferry interview by changing a font are hilarious. You won’t look at a bathroom sign the same after this.

The Hole Story (2005) **1/2

A pseudo-documentary about a filmmaker traveling to the Midwest to investigate a mysterious hole in a lake only for the hole to have disappeared by the time he gets there. Film turns into a plight for the documentarian to find ANYTHING to shoot leading to some very funny moments. However the film loses its luster around the halfway point and somewhat limps to the end. Film is noteworthy for using the real citizens and real situations though in scripted form. Would have been an excellent short, just not enough meat to sustain a feature.

The Filth & the Fury (2000) The Sex Pistols ***1/2

The history of The Sex Pistols told by the members themselves, (even dead member Sid Vicious), and through amazing clips and footage of the band at their decadent worst. Director Julian Temple had filmed so much of the band over the years and had access to so much of their lives, he paints an almost perfect picture of 70’s British unrest. The Pistols going nuts on live British TV is worth the film alone. Much better than the earlier drama Sid & Nancy.

The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (2007) ***½

Hysterical documentary about two men battling to attain the highest Donkey Kong score and the measures each man will go through to get it. Film clearly establishes sides pitting the bearded egotistical champ against the down-on-his-luck nice guy. Brilliant look at a culture that perhaps never fully grew up, it’s incredibly ironic when a six year-old girl makes the smartest observation in the movie. A must-see.

The Office: Season Three (2007) ****

Yeah, okay, I’m cheating. Probably the best sitcom on television, and damn, if it doesn’t compete with the UK version. Season three arguably is the best season of this mockumentary of office life in Scranton. While Steve Carell is no Ricky Gervais, and the office romance has a twinge of “been there”ness to it, the supporting characters and brilliant scripts more than make up for it. If you even think about starting fresh with season 4 without a rewind, think again, buster.

Issue 41: Superhero Information Initiative
By Amdnarg Toh

Supergirl

During my decade-long hiatus of being involved in the reading, collecting, and generally being owned by comic books and comic book characters, some really weird stuff happened…

Comics got really dark.
X-Men changed costumes at least 12 times.
The only Avenger I knew was Captain America.
The original Robin became Nightwing, and replacement Robin #1 was killed by the Joker.
And… Superman died. It was the Death of Superman that awakened me from my lethargic non-comic book involved state.
And why? Not really because Superman died. I knew it was a ratings ploy from the start.

Because Supergirl wierded me out!

A bit of explanation first…

Doomsday was the mysterious monster being who began to terrorize the countryside around Metropolis, Superman’s adult hometown. The Justice League of America was dispatched to take care of him and they ALL, collectively, got their asses handed to them by this unknown beast. Of course, Superman was unavailable at the time, but eventually got the message and showed up to make Doomsday’s - well— er— day. Kal-el found out he was WAY in over his head, and sacrificed himself to stop Doomsday, dying in the arms of his wife, Lois Lane. But that’s not THIS story…

In a critical moment of the battle between Superman and Doomsday, Supergirl intervened. I figured “Hmmm… There might just be enough power between TWO Kryptonians to take care of this menace.” Within about two nanoseconds of her joining her cousin’s defense of Metropolis and humanity itself, she gets KO’ed by the big grey guy. And turns into a grey putty like substance, smoking like she had escaped from a fire!!! And she’s picked up by none other than Lex Luthor, but he’s got long red hair and beard!!! I had to figure this one out, so I turned to the Internet, which at the time was a bit in its infancy, and didn’t have the mountains of comic related information readily available, so I had to do my research the old fashioned way - by collecting and reading the different issues that had information in them about Supergirl.

A short bit of research on today’s Internet yields the following Supergirl “lineage”:

Kara Zor-El - The original version, who was Superman’s cousin from Krypton. Some story lines indicate she lived in the bottled city of Kandor, some have her being sent to Earth in a rocket, much like Kal-El. In the original story line, a small part of Krypton survived its explosion, was eventually in jeopardy, so Kara was sent to Earth by her parents to be raised by her cousin. She holds a secret identity, Linda Danvers. This Supergirl died in the Crisis on Infinite Earths series in 1985. However, she has been recently reintroduced into the DC comics storyline, (2004.)

Matrix - The Supergirl encountered in the Doomsday story. Turns out this incarnation of Supergirl was a being called Matrix. She was a created lifeform with shape shifting abilities who took on the persona of Supergirl to help her hero, Superman. She had telekinetic abilities, which allowed her to mimic a number of Superman’s powers. Her story takes a number of twists, eventually leading to her “merging” with a human named Linda Danvers, losing some of her powers, gaining them back, and eventually being wiped out of the universe by the 2005 Infinite Crisis storyline.

Cir-El - A short-lived Supergirl who was initially thought to be the daughter of Kal-El and Lois Lane, returned from the future, but was found out to be a genetically modified human.

Issue 41: Don't Bother Me, I'm Thinking
By Medulla Vesuvius

Codifying the Sublime:
John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme - A Convergence

Every now and then, as an aesthete, you run across works of art that present themselves as somehow different from the average and mundane. These movies or photos or paintings or TV shows, etc. rise above and demand your attention. One such album that I’ve discovered within the last month or so is worth mentioning: John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme.

This is music that is very hard to nail down. Is it jazz? Avant-garde? “Experimental?” The answer to all three is “yes.” Besides occupying several genres or maybe even because of its “living in the cracks,” this album resonates on three aesthetic pitches.

One, it’s pop music, but only in the sense that it made a blip on the youth cultural radar. I believe it was Phil Lesh of the Grateful Dead who recounted hearing this music pouring out of several dormitory windows during a walk one night. It was 1964, an auspicious year, as it was also the year that a band called The Beatles exploded on America’s shores.

Two, it’s art music. I’m a trained musician with just enough theory knowledge to be dangerous and I can’t even fully comprehend all of the sounds being expelled by this quartet. Elvin Jones is far beyond merely “keeping time” on here, playing wild-man cymbals and floating in and out of regular drummer time-keeping roles, playing the gong and even tympani. It’s a bit cliche to say, but I think he really did conceive of his parts as another melody instrument. And McCoy Tyner on the piano…here’s one of the real sources of the musical ambiguity. I can make very little sense of what he’s doing, harmonically, which is no surprise. I get lost with the progressions in jazz after around 1945 or so. But what keeps me coming back as a listener is the fact that it’s obviously not random. There is some sense there, just beyond my perception. The two-handed chords are often hollow, giving Coltrane a lot of space. (By the way, if you ever want your little musical mind to be blown, listen to the syncopation in the left hand of a good jazz pianist like Tyner when he’s soloing.) This album is made up of four movements and by the third, the band is playing like insane geniuses. Coltrane’s all over the horn, Jones seemingly playing every drum and cymbal available. It’s so exciting and high-energy. Improvised. The sound of freedom.

“Freedom” is a fairly recent concept for me with regards to music. I remember listening to Dizzy Gillespie improvising one time, thinking to myself, “That must feel amazing to get up there on stage, blow your horn, no expectations, just improvising, playing whatever you feel while the rest of the band holds you up. There’s a lot of freedom in that. How liberating.” And it clicked for me. I could appreciate jazz improv. Not always understand it or even like it. But I could appreciate it.

Three, and most interesting to me, it’s spiritual, (not necessarily “religious”), music. After that great display of craziness and technique in the third movement and an upright bass solo by Jimmy Garrison to cleanse the palette, they come to the slow, reverent movement IV, the “Psalm.” Coltrane wrote the following poem and sang it, phrasing each separate line with his horn, (an astounding idea in itself):

A LOVE SUPREME

I will do all I can to be worthy of Thee O Lord.
It all has to do with it.
Thank you God.
Peace.
There is none other.
God is. It is so beautiful.

Thank you God. God is all.
Help us to resolve our fears and weaknesses.
Thank you God.
In You all things are possible.
We know. God made us so.
Keep your eye on God.
God is. He always was. He always will be.
No matter what . . . it is God.
He is gracious and merciful.
It is most important that I know Thee.
Words, sounds, speech, men, memory, thoughts,

fears and emotions — time — all related . . .
all made from one . . . all made in one.
Blessed be His name.
Thought waves — heat waves — all vibrations —
all paths lead to God. Thank you God.
His way . . . it is so lovely . . . it is gracious.
It is merciful — thank you God.
One thought can produce millions of vibrations
and they all go back to God . . . everything does.
Thank you God.
Have no fear . . . believe . . . thank you God.
The universe has many wonders. God is all.
His way . . . it is so wonderful.
Thoughts — deeds — vibrations, etc.
They all go back to God and He cleanses all.
He is gracious and merciful . . . thank you God.
Glory to God . . . God is so alive.
God loves.
May I be acceptable in Thy sight.
We are all one in His grace.
The fact that we do exist is acknowledgement
of Thee O Lord.

Thank you God.
God will wash away all our tears . . .
He always has . . .
He always will.
Seek Him everyday. In all ways seek God everyday.
Let us sing all songs to God
To whom all praise is due . . . praise God.
No road is an easy one, but they all
go back to God.
With all we share God.

It is all with God.
It is all with Thee.
Obey the Lord.
Blessed is He.
We are from one thing . . . the will of God . . .
thank you God.
I have seen God — I have seen ungodly —
none can be greater — none can compare to God.

Thank you God.
He will remake us . . . He always has and He
always will.
It is true — blessed be His name — thank you God.
God breathes through us so completely . . .
so gently we hardly feel it . . . yet,
it is our everything.
Thank you God.
ELATION — ELEGANCE — EXALTATION —
All from God.
Thank you God. Amen.

JOHN COLTRANE — December, 1964

Coltrane is in full-on universalist mode here. If you’re a systematic theology-type of person, you’ll probably hate his writing. But if you’re into the fuzziness of the human soul and it’s response to a knowledge of God, then maybe you get as much out of it as I do. I think it was Ben Hecht or Steve Allen that interviewed Jack Kerouac about his “worship reflex,” his ability to be heartfelt and reverent toward God amidst his seeming worldliness, and I get the same vibe from Coltrane here, his worship reflex. To me, this is “praise and worship” music, if that category hadn’t been hideously co-opted by all manner of well-meaning Christian folks. Suffice it to say, though, that the “spiritual” component to this music, as unorthodox and unexpected as it is, really makes this record special.

As I see it, you have with this group, these songs, this preserved moment in time, this album — a convergence of three streams:

art.
	pop.
		spiritual.

Very Cool.