Plunder came to me because I wanted to read a horror comic not written by Robert Kirkman. I’m also always was intrigued by the idea of reading a comic about non-white Americans because I feel that it’s only ever a good thing when the medium expands beyond that narrow demographic.

Plunder came to me because I wanted to read a horror comic not written by Robert Kirkman. I’m also always was intrigued by the idea of reading a comic about non-white Americans because I feel that it’s only ever a good thing when the medium expands beyond that narrow demographic.

If anything, Burning Fields serves as a good reminder as to the enchanting power of a super nicely done first page. Typically, I try to do a first reading of the comics I review for Comic Bastards over a slice and a pint at the local pizza joint.

If anything, Burning Fields serves as a good reminder as to the enchanting power of a super nicely done first page. Typically, I try to do a first reading of the comics I review for Comic Bastards over a slice and a pint at the local pizza joint.

I already went and used this platform last week to write about the coolness of comics, so I won’t take the time to do that here again. I do want to say though that The Humans is another example of a cool comic, a comic that is so unabashedly itself that you’d feel embarrassed for it if you didn’t want to BE it so badly.

I already went and used this platform last week to write about the coolness of comics, so I won’t take the time to do that here again. I do want to say though that The Humans is another example of a cool comic, a comic that is so unabashedly itself that you’d feel embarrassed for it if you didn’t want to BE it so badly.

One of the recurring things I tell people about comic books is that they’re all the same medium, but not necessarily the same genre of superheroes punching each other and going through wardrobe changes every couple issues.

One of the recurring things I tell people about comic books is that they’re all the same medium, but not necessarily the same genre of superheroes punching each other and going through wardrobe changes every couple issues.

Talk about some character progression? Ok, I will. While Sundowners has so far vacillated between intriguing and frustrating on almost an issue-by-issue basis, it definitely can’t be faulted for a lack of character development. Between the premiere and the end of this first arc, many of the characters have gone through significant growth that often takes other comics years to accomplish.

I’ve been having more and more conversations recently about comics with people who don’t read comics. What strikes me about these conversations isn’t what the other person typically says about comics (they’re for children, they’re sexists, they’re not as literary as other mediums), but my response to these people. Often, I’ll point to certain comics I have in my literary holster, and make some argument about how they function as high art (See me talking about Jimmy Corrigan and page layout, Ant Colony and existentialism, All-Star Superman and myth, etc.).

I hope someday I’m smart enough to love Unwritten: Apocalypse. Perhaps it’ll happen if I ever get around to reading all the literary texts and theory that it alludes to, as well as the bulk of the preceding main comic, which has been on my to-read list since finishing volume two and recognizing that someday I’d want to have the series in beautiful leather-bound hardcovers ala Ron Burgundy, and “Eww, do I hate these cheaply made trades.”

Let me just out myself first. I really like Eric Stephenson. When Nowhere Men was all that anyone seemed to talk about (anyone who reads comics as often as I do, at least), I said “Nu-uh, ain’t gonna fall for the hype” and reread Y: The Last Man for the fifth time instead.

The Bigger Bang is in its homestretch now, and while it continues to be a space opera romp that’s enjoyable to read, it’s managed to lose much of what made it unique in its first issue. Whereas early issues felt surprising in its tone, and its approach to story about super beings IN SPACE, this issue sees Cosmos and Wyan falling into roles we’ve seen time and time again, only here we view it courtesy of Vassilis Gogtzilas’ continuously captivating sketch style, a style that oozes atmosphere in each panel while maintaining narrative clarity.

I’m not sure what it is that drew me to this premiere issue of Burning Fields. It could be that the preview of Lorimer’s interior immediately drew my attention, reminding me of Steve Epting’s work on Brubaker Captain America, but distinguishing itself through its heavy use of shadowing effects, and a desert landscape rarely depicted in comics.

I feel really bummed about Wayward, and how I think it’s not meeting its full potential with each passing issue. To me, it’s unclear why we should care much about any of these character other than because they fill archetypal sympathetic roles.

Before I read this issue, I had to come to terms with the idea that it could not live up to the expectations built up after being blown away by the premiere. That took much longer than I thought it would, and it was only because I had given myself a deadline on writing this review that I finally opened the file to the follow-up, reading it twice in one sitting as is my way with single issues.

I’ll start this one off by simply reiterating what many others have said about this comic- damn, it’s nice to read a comic intended for my laptop screen.

I should hate The Humans. Its characters are crass, horrible, and hedonistic, but damn I feel infinitely cooler after reading this comic.