Criminal is my perfect comic book. When I grow up this is the kind of book I want to make.

I love everything about this book, top to bottom. Ed Brubaker's writing is second to none when it comes to this sort of gripping noir. The atmosphere, the tight plotting, the characterization, the easily-quotable dialogue ("My pussy is a weapon"), all of it adds up to be the best kind of read: The one you can read over and over and get something new from it each time.

Then there's Sean Phillips, one of the very best artists working today in and out of the comic book field. No one does what he does better, and it's a true delight watching him doing it in Criminal. His deceptively easy-looking effort at creating the perfect atmosphere to bring Brubaker's stories to life gives the book a great kind of shelf life, in that it never makes it on the shelf and stays right on my desk so that I can ooo and aaaahh over the lush brushstrokes on a regular basis.

“So where are you moving from?”

“Kansas City. I don’t know, it didn’t feel right living there anymore. Didn’t feel like home after a while,” Emily replies to Jaquie as they both carry in some boxes. After moving the furniture they were each trying to carry several boxes at a time, but they’ve since both worn out from that and have started only carrying one box at a time. “I grew up in Lee’s Summit, but it’s changed so much since I moved out it doesn’t feel like home, either.”

“Oh, I hear you. That town’s grown like crazy,” says Jaquie as she stacks her latest load with the rest of the boxes in the living room. “Jesus, thank God there’s only a couple more trips left.”

“No shit.”

“If you ever move again…”

“Use different movers?”

“Don’t ask me to help!” They both laugh hard. They get the last of the boxes into the house as the first raindrops start to fall. Emily looks over at Sarah and the cat Ellie playing in the kitchen and smiles, watching Ellie rolling around stoned from the catnip and Sarah giggling.

Emily calls to Jaquie, “You want some more water?”

“Yeah, please.” Emily refills both of the glasses which have been heartily drank from all day and carries them out to the porch where a couple of folding chairs have been set up. She joins Jaquie, feeling an intense sensation of relaxation from sitting, knowing the heavy work’s all done.

“Thank you so much for helping out, Jaquie. I don’t know what I’d have done without you,” Emily says earnestly.

“No problem, Em. I think you’ll find folks like helping each other out here in the ‘Ville.”

“Definite change of pace for me. I’m loving it so far.” Emily notices a man standing at the end of the street staring in her direction. He’s a tall white man with white hair and a deep tan. Maybe he’s not white. His features are kind of indiscernible, not just due to the distance down the road he’s standing. He’s wearing black pants and matching t-shirt which cover an athletic but not overly-bulky frame. Emily’s sure, he’s staring at her. “Who’s that?”

Jaquie turns to look in the direction Emily indicated and freezes. Emily can’t see Jaquie’s face, but it’s obvious by her posture that she’s uneasy. She looks down at her hand and Emily follows her glance, noticing the beautiful sapphire ring on her finger for the first time. Jaquie looks up at Emily and says in a low and serious voice, “Who’s who?”

“The man standing down the street pervin’ on us.” Emily looks up again and sees that the man is gone. “Huh, shit, must be seeing things.”

“You worked too hard today, sweetheart. So wore out you’re seeing spirits now.”

Thursday night we left KC for Columbia for dinner and then for a midnight screening of The Dark Knight. The movie is, uhm, good. You might have heard about it. The bit with the pencil's probably my favorite of the whole flick.

The rest of the weekend was ate up with wedding stuff. Katy's brother got hitched and it was a really nice time with a really nice service. We came back Sunday afternoon and just lazed around the house until we passed out early in the evening following a great dinner at Abuelo's.

We have SO much TV to catch up on! Ugh! There have been just too many good marathons this summer. I'm on the fence about the new season of Burn Notice. It's starting to get that 'goofy' feel that eats up most of USA's programming. Hopefully it's just me though because the first season was pure ace. We've got about sixty episodes of The Twilight Zone sitting in the DVR along with the first season of Mad Men, several episodes of Jeremiah that I've recorded and haven't watched a single ep of yet and also our normal stuff like the rasslin' and cooking shows. There needs to be more hours in the day.

But for now I'm just decompressing from the past two weeks and looking forward to going back to my semi-normal life. I think I'll start on a painting tonight to unwind some. I'll post the progress as it comes along.

I've been enjoying the Jonah Hex series since it started with Luke Ross as the artist, but it really seemed to come into its own when it started rotating artists and most notably with the legendary Jordi Bernet starting in 'Origins'. Bernet wasn't very well-known in the States outside of the occasional Heavy Metal story or his well-regarded issue of 'Solo'.

Bernet rules. I just want to throw that out there. He's one of my artistic icons, and I sincerely hope that his work here will bring more of his resume to America.

There's also a nice two-parter illustrated by Phil Noto and a done-in-one by Val Semeiks. I've been a fan of Noto's since his early cover work and his brightly colored style brings an interesting twist to the normally muted palette of the Western genre. Sometimes his figures come off as a little too stiff, but nothing jarring. Semeiks' contribution is possibly the best work I've seen from him. No, I'll take that back. It IS the best work I've seen from him. I'd love to see more like this from Semeiks in the near future.

I really feel for artists who have to share a collection with Jordi Bernet. I mean, I really feel for them. I couldn't imagine having to have that weight on my shoulders, you know? I think that's where the art in this collection suffers. Bernet's two contributions are stellar to the point of being textbooks on how to successfully cartoon. But that slight stiffness Noto had in the prior edition exacerbates in this one to the point that at several times it pulled me out of the story. Not good.

Noto's use of color is still beautiful though, and that's where he always shines and what always gives his art that extra oomph it needs. It felt like there was a deadline crunch he was under on these as they weren't nearly as lush and beautiful as the contribution to 'Origins'. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt on this as his overall body of work tells me this was an exception.

David Michael Beck's one-parter though came out as a mess to me. It was over-saturated, over-referenced and all over the place in regards to storytelling. It's...pretty, I guess, but it's a mess at the same time. A little more work on contrast and storytelling would have made this a lot stronger, and it seemed disappointing to me that an artist of Beck's caliber couldn't quite bring that. It's nice to look at for the most part, but it's difficult to read.

And the stories? They're solid. Jimmy Palmiotti and Justin Gray know what they're doing, and they bring consistently solid stories on every outing. Some are rather good, a couple are close to great, and one came out kind of bad, and I think that all comes from the artists they're working with rather than their scripts. Yup, the ones that are close to great are Bernet's, especially 'Who Lives and Who Dies', a story about a school teacher telling his class how he lost his arm in an encounter with Jonah Hex, and of course the multi-part 'Origins'. The one that was close to bad was the David Michael Beck one-parter that was just all over the place and wasn't helped at all by the sub-par storytelling from the art. These are writers that artists want to work with because they really know how to write to an artist's strengths. Even with my complaints about Beck's contribution, the writers definitely gave him those great moments where an artist can really shine. Beck is a very famous and award-winning cover artist and there are several of those killer panels where he can really hit his high notes, and he does in that story.

But man, these books are so worth it just for the Bernet art, folks. For reals.

* That will be lead off with weekly graphic novel reviews that will have the option to purchase the books from Amazon. I'm sure I won't get rich off of that, but I'm putting it out there. The first will be the last two Jonah Hex collections with the beautiful Jordi Bernet art.

* The next thing will be an effort to up my hit counts on my stuff here. I've got a pretty ambitious plan in place that will start to be unfurled over the coming weeks but the gist of it is that I'll be paying people to link to my site. Cash money, playas.

* I'll also be updating my comix section to monetize that a little better as well. I need to talk with my tech guy to get that worked out.

* Are y'all enjoying 'Too Soon' so far? It's a slow build but you'll start seeing the pieces coming together in the next month. There's a big payoff coming, don't worry.

* Last weekend Katy and I were in Columbia for family stuff and we went to this amazing brewery called Flatbranch that had maybe the most interesting beer I've ever had. It was a green chili brew and I shit you not, it tasted just like green chilis, even with a little spice to it, and damn it was good. They also had a fantastic stout second only to Guiness, and I'm kind of a stout expert. They had a sampler of six of their brews, probably ten ounces each, for under six bucks too. I got nice and tight for less than one beer at a bar in the Power and White district. Deal!

* Have I mentioned lately that I love Indian food? Because I do. I love Indian food.

* Burn Notice is back on the air!

* Mad Men comes back July 27th!

* I'm going to be out of town Thursday night through Sunday. I'll be able to update the comic every day, but the archive won't get updated until Sunday after tomorrow. Don't lose any sleep over that, alright?

Kansas City’s not one of those rough-and-tumble big cities by any means, but those who live here have grown accustomed to screams and gun shots. Sure, they want to help their fellow man and all, but you never know who else is around the corner, or what may fall into your lap. Working downtown, Saul Van Deeten runs into this sort of trouble on occasion, and if he had been smart this time around, he would have kept on walking like he normally does. He would have gotten in his car, driven to his cozy house and checked the news to see if there’d been any mention of it. But for some dumb ass reason, that’s not what he did tonight. No, tonight a shooting victim came stumbling towards him and he stuck around. There Saul was when the silly bastard said the two names that would ruin Saul’s life for the next good long while. He also promised the second name would be worth millions. The cops show up promptly and pull Saul back and check his ID. He already know what the cop’s going to say before the officer turns back towards him.

The officer clicks the button to turn off his microphone and approaches Saul. “Mister Van Deeten?”

“Call me Saul,” casually says Saul, knowing there’s no point in bravado.

“You have a lot of outstanding parking tickets, sir. Now, we appreciate your helping here, but…” But Saul’s going to jail. He knows, he knows. About a year back, he got laid off from the title insurance company he’d been working for and struck out on his own as a private abstractor. Kansas City’s a tough market for that, and if you’re not hooked up with one of the big companies you really have to hustle to make ends meet. Saul has to hit a lot of the more rural counties to make sure the power stays on, as well as working the downtown courthouse. All of the runners pick up parking tickets like a hooker picks up vaginal warts. And as bad as that analogy was, Saul’s situation with the court’s even worse. Thirty days in lock-up or pony up the money. So, G-Pop? Here comes Saul Van Deeten.

Eddie Mann, the star of my last graphic novel 'Too Late' returns in the pages of 'Too Soon' along with the lovely Angel and all of the mysteries that surround the two. You've read 'Too Late' right? No? Then read it again in its entirety, why don'cha! And for more on the genesis of Eddie Mann read this entry to find out how I've been evolving his character since I was in Junior High.

This scene is a bit of a visual repetition to his first scene in 'Too Late' as well creating a bit of continuity between the books. Think of it like the opening credits to a TV show.

In Dennis Hopeless' dining room he has these wall-length murals that I thought were incredibly cool and I thought doing something like that would really jazz up this talking heads scene, and then I got to thinking about what I wanted to use. I ended up doing a 'cover' of some Jean 'Moebius' Giraud Blueberry panels for the murals and then played around with them in Photoshop to make sure they had the right perspective for each panel. I really dug how they turned out.

There's also something going on with the colors in this scene in relation to last two scenes, but I can't really elaborate on that until later in the book.

Speaking of Moebius, this morning I remembered something from when I was taking German in Junior High. In our textbook 'Neue Freunde' there was a section with college-aged kids talking about comic books and one of the quotes was "Ich liebe Moebius. Ehr ist toll," which translates to "I love Moebius. He is cool." We had to pronounce his name as if a cow were saying it though which bugged the fuck out of me. Murrrrbius. There were also some douchebags saying comics are lame, but we know in fact that people who say such things are asshats.

Also, the 'rich bitch' bit is a nod to Dave Chapelle of course, but I couldn't find a clip with just that on YouTube or Daily Motion. If you come across one feel free to help a brother out.

* Speaking of gallery shows, keep your fingers crossed for more announcements soon!

* I'm really tired of having to go to a day job. Anyone want to sponsor me as a full-time artist? Anyone? Hello? Is this on?

* Last night Katy got me a really nice glass-top desk for my birthday. I love this thing.

* The holiday weekend was really nice overall. Friday we went to a friend's house for a BBQ where my vegetarian ass ended up doing a lot of the barbequing. For those of you who are concerned, I fixed myself a nice portebello mushroom burger.

* Saturday was my birthday party at the River Market Brewery where some friends made it out, including old friends Buddy and Marie who I hadn't seen in a decade or so. That was really great.

* Then the funniest shit happened. We were notified that DJ Shadow was playing at a bar on the Plaza so we went down there and as soon as we walked in I noticed two things: One, it wasn't THE DJ Shadow and Two, I had walked into the final circle of Yuppie Hell. I spent Too-Much-Fifty on a couple of beers and left after Katy almost got in a fight with some skinny broad.

* Speaking of vapid white people ruining things for the city, we were the only table that night at the River Market Brewery. I blame the Power and Light District, or as I've come to call it and-I-really-hope-this-nickname-catches-on Power and White for killing off classic watering holes in the KC area. Tanner's is already a victim, as well as Paddy O'Quigly's, and more that I'm not thinking of off the top of my head. I think to gain something KC is losing something even richer, and what they're gaining is an openly racist group of establishments that are run by an out of state corporation.

* I am so stoked that CM Punk is the Heavyweight Champion now. That moment last week was one of the most exciting that's been on RAW in a good long while.

* Anyone? Anyone want to give me money so's I can give an FU to the day job? Hello?

Bob and Paul walk through the door, entering the room filled with pounding bass, gunshots and explosions, smoke, and a smell somewhere between piss and vomit. Paul can’t help but comment, “God damn it fuckin’ stinks in here, Earl. You gotta air this shit out.”

Earl looks up from his video game and just nods in the pair’s direction. “’Sup, guys. Pop a squat while I finish this shit up.”

Bob looks down at the filthy couch covered in animal hairs and…stains, and ponders if he should take the offer to sit. Before he can make up his mind Paul takes point and throws out, “We’re cool standing, yo.”

“Whatev,” replies Earl, busy pushing the buttons on the game controller. The guy playing against Earl, whose name escapes Bob’s memory, cackles while playing the shooter game. “Fuck you, man.”

“So, uh, we’re here to pick up our shit, Earl,” interjects Bob.

Earl doesn’t even bother to respond, busy being focused by the flickering lights coming from his television. The three roaches in the ash tray clues Bob in that Earl’s stoned off his gourd again. Still. Perpetually. Bob doesn’t care, he just wants to get the hell out of here. The guys who hang out in this house make him more nervous than Earl himself, which says a lot.

Two men walk from the back of the house, both holding guns. “Hey, whoa, what the fuck’s going on, man?,” asks Paul, stepping backwards toward the door.

“Calm down, motherfucker. Sheeeit,” says Earl, still not looking away from the game, “These two just off to do some business for me. We had someone narc on us, gotta get that shit cleared up.” He looks away from the game following a beep that indicates he paused it. “You fools know what’s up, right.”

“You know we do, nigga.” It cracks Bob up listening to these white boys talking this way. This is the MTV generation at its finest. The two thugs walk past Bob and Paul, sneering at Paul as they pass. “’Sup.”

“For real, Earl, we gotta get our shit and get going,” says Paul, anxious to get out of this place.

“Shit ain’t here,” replies Earl, playing the game again.

“Do what now?”

“Shit ain’t here. I gotta go pick it up. Y’all might as well come with, you can buy it at my cost.”

Bob and Paul look at each other, trying to read their respective faces. Paul shrugs his shoulders, then Bob does the same. “Alright. When we headin’ out?”

“After a bit. I’m muthafuckin’ hungry up in this bitch. We’ll stop to get some foods on the way,” says Earl, then sits up straight, angrily yelling at his playmate, “Damn, nigga!”

To which his compatriot giggles again, “Blew yo ass up!”

Earl looks up at Bob and Paul, “You guys hungry?”

“We can eat, yeah,” replies Bob. Bob takes in the scene again, looking around. Earl’s either in his early thirties or late twenties, it’s hard to tell with the lifestyle he’s leading. He’s making a shit ton of money, but blows it all on stupid stuff like video games and stereo equipment, or on the fast food and take-out containers that litter the tiny house. “When we heading out to get that?”

“Gotta wait on those two fool muthafuckas to get back, then we’ll go. Shouldn’t take them long to find that squealin’ bitch.”