"Blame it on Abel" just don't sing, son.

So I was rereading some of The Sandman the other day. Gotta say, some of this series still sticks in my craw, it truly does, but there's a lot more to like than I was letting myself remember. Having Cain and Abel from the old House of Mystery/Secrets was just really fucking cool. And the characters came through too. I mean you see Cain everywhere, he generally gets respect. Abel gets the short end of the archetypal stick. Arguably he is the prime aspect of the story, pleasing God with his sacrifice and being the brother whose actions drive the story, although I guess since Cain gets all the money shots, even if he is reactive, he is reactive in the most entertaining way possible. But still, Abel doesn’t get jack. There are all sorts of archetypal takes on Cain; he gets songs, and story stand-ins, and all sorts of references. Abel sometimes appears, but not always, and when he does show up, he usually just dies, and that’s it. Just like in the original I suppose, but still. He gets justice done in East of Eden, but usually such short shrift. Gaiman uses his old DC form and makes him fleshed out. I understand that there is so much more to do with Cain, as a stand-in for jealousy, anger, passion and then he of course, lives, and goes on to wherever the land of Nod is, if not in dreams as Sandman supposes.

So what could there be about Abel that makes him interesting in his own right? The good son (OR….WAS HE? (bum-bum-BUMMMMM!!!!) I bet there is a really shit retelling from his point of view by a theology professor from William&Mary or something. Like the one from the POV of Ahab’s wife, or Bathsheba, or that new one whatever it is (Edwin Drood, maybe). Quite the “in” fiction right now, probably because all that shit, laborious, make-work plot clap-trap is all done for you. “A splendid re-imagining!”, “A delightful twist on the classic…”, “Opens the doors of possibility left open by the original!” comes purring from the peanut gallery…

Soooo....Abel. Meat-eater. Younger brother. Dislikes: eggplant, children, dirt naps. Likes: Koreans, blow jobs. (huh. Not funny. Oh well) I’ll come back to this later.

The tan M&M's taste just fine, asshole...

Yeah, so I read a review of this book by Chris Wright called Inkweed by Sean Collins on his ADD blog, and if I was at all responsible or thought anyone was reading this, I would give the good man his due and link to his post, but Jesus, I barely can put up posts, let alone highwire HTML shit like that. Seriously, this post is about a book I haven't even read yet. How motivated do I look to YOU?

So, anyway, Inkweed. The review made it sound like something I would like. Something I would buy, if they took cat hair instead of dollars at the bank, you dig? I looked at no preview pages, just a couple synopsis lines on a few of the stories, maybe like Kevin Huizenga, maybe not. You know....art comics. Maybe. But I ain't read it, like I said, and while I am not complaining, the art comics seem a little harder to pick out recently. Not always, but still...sometimes. The art guys seem to cut a little further from the bone than they used to, if you follow. First blood to James Kolchaka, and all that implies.

See, I saw a Modest Mouse concert in maybe 2000- a couple years before they broke “big”, but a couple years after they were really an underground band anymore either. The singer (who looks like an old buddy of mine named Big Jim but, you know, is a singer and shit) kept taking breaks to read out loud from the Led Zepplin bio Hammer of the Gods. Oh yeah, he straight did that shit.

I had eaten mushrooms (going to a concert to actually listen to music having been beyond my faculties for a good six years at this point) and just was spaced to the gills on irony.
‘I can’t even tell if they’re joking anymore’, I told the good friend I was there with, now dead (where’s the irony there, you can be forgiven for wondering).
‘Well,' he told me, 'I’m pretty sure this guy here is joking’.

Well, I am pretty sure this book is art comics too, but shit, who can really tell anymore, you know? Fuck, probably never see this at the local BnN anyhow…