The great legacy of the logo teaser ad
Besides The Basics (construction of heads and skulls and muscles and skeletons and how they move), I’ll go over some things I’ve been trying to work on myself lately:
1. Treat expressions as a single gesture of the face/head, as opposed to a head and then individual features dumped on a plate and arranged into an expression.
First, just get down the big shapes of your expression, just like you would for a pose.
So say I wanna do a low angle angry pose. I know the features are gonna be all mashed down at the bottom because of perspective.
Scribble it down
start to put on features
put on more stuff
fix stuff again
erasing and flipping and stuff a whole bunch until you are happy with it or stop caring
Whole head is a gesture!
2. Just like a facial expression, jot down where the important parts of an entire pose goes first. You can force the rest of the body to fit the pose.
So here I knew I wanted the shoulders tilted a certain direction, and te hand to be in that particular position in front of her face.
That’s the simplest explanation I got. Don’t be afraid to push and pull faces and bodies around! Worry about being “on model” last!
All great tips, plus bonus Zhao.
Favorite Attack: DREAD LOCK
Some character profiles from Saturday Night Slam Masters, arcade. I’m surprised that Haggar was born in New York and not Metro City. I’m not surprised that he likes pounding punks.
BORN IN A WORLD OF TRAGEDY: GREG RUCKA REFLECTS ON HIS BATMAN WORK, PART ONE [INTERVIEW]
By Chris Sims
To say that Greg Rucka had a profound impact on DC Comics in the 21st Century is underselling things quite a bit. After arriving on the scene in the late ’90s, he became one of the few writers to have written all three of DC’s biggest characters, with critically acclaimed runs on Action Comics and Wonder Woman. It was on Batman, however, where he made his biggest impact, as one of the writers for the year-long No Man’s Land crossover, the relaunched “New Gotham” era of Detective Comics, and cowriter of the enduringly influential Gotham Central.
Today, we begin an in-depth look back at Rucka’s tenure on the Dark Knight, starting with No Man’s Land, both the comic and its surprisingly popular novelization, in which Gotham City becomes a dark dystopia following a cataclysmic earthquake; his feelings about the core idea of Batman; and his frustrations on seeing the Joker show up in the pages of Superman.
Had a lovely, long, and rambling chat with Chris Sims about my time in the Batman Universe. He’s easy to talk to. I’m not sure I’m that easy to listen to, but there you go….
I like Greg Rucka more and more every time I read/hear an interview with him.
All hail the King
Come get your awesome fun I got the OGN if the year, best wrestling comic ever and Butts. H5 at #spx
Serious question for my fellow sportsfans, in the wake of everything that’s been going on in the NFL the last few days/weeks- what would it take for you to stop watching your sport of choice, whatever it may be? More specifically, what (if anything) does an individual player/coach or team or league have to do to make you finally throw up your hands and say, “All right, enough, I’m done”?
Semi-obviously I ask because I was sitting up at a quarter to one last night, watching SportsCenter, because I’m a red-blooded American man and that’s what us red-blooded American men do when we’re up that late. The particular report I was watching was regarding a four year old boy’s grand jury testimony about his father’s room full of whippin’ belts, and this nightmare fuel was on SportsCenter because the father in question is Adrian Peterson of the Minnesota Vikings. And I remembered how in 2012 we all got excited about this same father maybe breaking the single-season rushing record, and how people were falling all over themselves to talk about what a great guy he is, and it was such a great story that we all pretty much ignored the strong likelihood that he was juiced up to Drago-levels in order to do it. Chris Davis of the Orioles just got suspended for violating MLB’s drug policy and a year ago I was openly rooting for him to break the single-season home run record. Ray Rice? Man, I hate the Ravens, but I *liked* Ray Rice. A friend of mine at work grew up in the same general area as him and played high school football against him, and used to talk about what a great kid he was, real nice, down-to-earth guy. My friend once recovered an onside kick that Rice was also trying to get, which he called his “claim to fame.” I wanted Ray Rice to break records and win championships and be successful if only so my buddy’s story would mean more down the line. Now I doubt he’ll ever tell that story again.
I used to be a pretty avid fan of professional wrestling, but now I’m a fairly casual fan of it, and that change happened because of a conscious decision. In 2007 one of my favorite wrestlers (at the time) murdered his wife and young son and then killed himself. It was a fairly big news story at the time, and there’s never been a full accounting of “why” he did it, as if there’s any possible good explanation. But the conventional wisdom is that his mental state was at least partially a result of brain damage from injuries in the ring, anger issues caused by performance-enhancing drug use, and depression over the then-still-recent demise of his best friend, another wrestler, whose death was inarguably the result of years of drug abuse, performance-enhancing and otherwise. All this happened, and I pretty much said, “Okay, I’m out.” Enough was enough, and I didn’t watch wrestling again for like five years. The line I used at the time, and still refer back to when I explain why I’m not as into it as I used to be, was a paraphrase of an old Robert Klein bit, about a Raid commercial, of all things: “It (pro wrestling) makes us love them (the performers), while it systematically annihilates them.” And I’m starting to wonder if the same isn’t true of quote-unquote “real” sports, especially football (but especially Bart.)
Football is a sport where success requires young men to dedicate the majority of their young lives to becoming as strong and as fast and as destructive as a human can possibly be barring the aid of some kind of weapon. It molds them into supermen while encouraging/requiring them to ignore every other aspect of their development as people, filing everything in the world into the two categories of “Football” and “Distractions from Football.” Adrian Peterson is roughly five times as large as your average four year old boy and still thought it was okay to repeatedly hit one with a tree branch. (“Oh, but it wasn’t a *big* tree branch,” I can already hear people saying. Please stop it.) A four year old getting hit by Adrian Peterson is roughly equivalent to Adrian Peterson getting hit by a bipedal elephant. I’m not saying nobody should ever hit their kids. Hell, I was advocating for people to hit their kids on, like, Wednesday. Parent how you want to parent. But if you’re a huge super-strong man whose job is to run into other huge super-strong men, have some restraint. Have some awareness of how big and strong and frankly goddamn terrifying you are to a regular person, much less a *baby.*
But restraint and awareness isn’t part of football. It goes into that other folder. So of course he doesn’t have it. Of course Ray Rice doesn’t have it. Restraint and awareness is a bad career move, because being a football player who isn’t a quarterback or a punter or a kicker is like being an Extremis soldier from Iron Man 3- you are going to burn up *fast*, so do as much as you can while you can, because even if you just got started, you’re almost done. One false move, one juke in the wrong direction, one moment of hesitation, and it’s over, kid. Don’t think about it, don’t hold back, just find a hole and run to daylight. Dedicate your entire life to it, build your entire life around it, drag your entire family out of the ghetto or the country or whatever else with it, become a hero and a millionaire and a superstar and an inspiration with it. But shut it off as soon as the whistle blows or else.
And that’s not even touching on so many other things. The long-term effects of head injuries, seemingly actively ignored by the NFL forever. Baseball’s endless parade of drug cheats. The tone-deafness of the NFL’s treatment of women. MLB’s sanctimoniousness about basically everything. The racist team names and logos.
But having said all of that, and knowing all of that… I’m going to watch football tomorrow. I’m going to watch baseball in like five hours. And I’m not even close to being the only one. As I type this, all across the country there are people waking up outraged by the Adrian Peterson story not because of what happened to a kid or what it might mean on a larger moral canvas, but because the Vikings shut him down and that messes up their entire fantasy football lineup. People in Minnesota are warming up their best “I’m not in favor of child abuse, BUT…” statements. Someone in St Paul is calling a radio station and wondering why they couldn’t wait until *after* Sunday to shut down Peterson because the Patriots aren’t that good this season and we had a chance to go two and oh, don’t’cha know?
I’m going to watch the Giants, because AP and Ray Rice and Greg Hardy and Ray McDonald and Aaron Hernandez and Wes Welker aren’t on the Giants, and the Giants wouldn’t stand for that sort of thing if they were, because they’re a good organization with values and standards and blah blah blah blah everything that every Ravens and Vikings fan thinks about their teams too. I’m going to watch the Yankees play the Orioles twice and be happy about Davis’s drug suspension not because drugs are bad or cheating is bad but because it will give my team of choice a very, very, very, very slightly better chance of making the playoffs. I’ll watch the Giants and Yankees, because I love the Giants and Yankees, and I’ll probably watch a little bit of the Jets and the Mets and I’ll probably watch at least a little bit of some games between teams I could not possibly care less about. I don’t even know who the Vikings are playing but I’ll probably stop on that game just to find out what whoever’s calling the game has to say about the elephant in the room. I’ll watch it and I’ll talk about it with my friends and I’ll compartmentalize- “Well it’s not like Ray Rice was on *my* team…”- and I’ll rationalize- “Really it’s something like one-half of one percent of all NFL players are involved in domestic violence, and that’s well below the national average”- and by Week Four? I probably won’t even feel weird about it anymore.
Which brings me back around (finally), to my original question: what’s it going to take?
It’s probably not cool to admit this, but a big part of my love of comics comes from these trading cards. They were everywhere when I was a kid.
Art Adams made a number of fantastic contributions to Impel’s second series of Marvel trading cards in 1991.