Marked For Justice Vs Fan Films

We live in an age where a geeks life is a many splendored thing. Gone are the days of scrounging around at stale old comic marts, tracking down grainy third generation dubs of the Roger Corman Fantastic Four movie or the Star Wars Holiday Special. At the touch of a button the modern dork can access out of print games, underground music, cult movies and become an expert on their chosen field of interest in minutes. But it wasn’t always like that. No mate. I’ve said it before and I will definitely say it again but being about that nerd life before the internet was some fucking toil man. If you wanted something niche…..you had to put in the leg work.

These days fandom is accessible to all. Comic book movies dominate the multiplexes. TV shows that draw upon the established lore of once reviled cult authors are now smash hits. We are quite literally spoilt for choice. I am not ashamed to admit that there’s a big part of me that is incensed by all this acceptance. What changed? Where was all this enthusiasm and tolerance when I was getting the pipe knocked out of me because I’d rather read an X-Men comic than play football? You people are all posers. I bled for this shit. Actual blood, not fake blood from the joke shop or corn syrup or whatever you cosplay people use. Fuckers.

Anyway look, right back at the dawn of the internet, before Marvel got their shit together and turned the superhero movie into a certified money spinner, that genre was absolutely in the bin. Yeah yeah we may well be past saturation point with superhero movies these days but until you’ve suffered through the Albert Pyun Captain America or endured The Hoff as Nick Fury, and don’t even get me started on the guy from Streethawk playing Daredevil in the Trial Of The Incredible Hulk… spare me your issues with superhero cinema you mewling babies. You don’t know pain.

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Art. Attitude. Anarchy. Future Shock – The story of 2000AD

future-shock-graphicjpg-60a2aaAlmost everything I’m obsessed with, inspired by or simply think is ‘rad’ can be traced back to my exposure to an unholy trinity of influences at key developmental stages of my childhood. Star Wars at five years old, Fighting Fantasy at seven years old and 2000AD at eight years old.

Whilst I’ve discussed the influence of Fighting Fantasy and Star Wars at length elsewhere on this blog, the acid damage 2000AD wrought upon my delinquent brain has yet to be fully explored. Trust me though it’s coming. Once again the blame can be placed squarely at the feet of my sainted Grandmother who every Friday would turn up at our house with the TV & Radio Times for my parents, The Storyteller tape/magazine for my little sister and Transformers and Whizzer & Chips for me. Things were going swimmingly until one Friday she arrived later than usual. For whatever reason she had been delayed. ‘I am sorry Nathan, but the man at the newsagent didn’t have any Transformers left…’ She delivered this dreadful news whilst rummaging in her bag and upon seeing my forlorn mug peering back at her she added cheerily ‘Don’t worry though love, I got you something else….it’s got big robots in it’. She stuffed a magazine called 2000AD into my eager grasp and lo the  stars aligned, doom bells tolled and the sun went black as sackcloth. The robots in question were of course the ABC Warriors. Occult obsessed, chaos worshipping, human murdering, cross-dressing war droids who kicked about with a cloven hoofed alien warlock. So that was me pretty much fucked. Continue reading

Jagged Visions Part 3: Souls At Zero… The Art Of Simon Bisley

A.B.C-Warriors-5

 ‘all structures collapse, mysteries unfold
borne from the skies in these times of grace’

Neurosis

Whilst John Blanche is quite rightly regarded as the undisputed master of grimdark within the Warhammer realm, there are myriad other artists working beyond that it’s narrow borders whose visual aesthetic could certainly be considered ‘grimdark’ and thus partially responsible for the ritual scarification of my adolescent mind. As an act of penance on my part if you will, to provide a cultural counterweight to my forthcoming Rob Liefeld confessional, I want to cleanse my soul by turning my attention to a master of the form. A man, much like John Blanche, whose sense of grim splatterpunk violence and gallows humour was crucial in shaping my own tastes and approach to artistic endeavour. Guys, can we just  take a minute and talk about Simon Fucking Bisley?
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