iMixing It Up

Several new iMixes worth mentioning:

February Rain: Made by my friend Megan in honor of those who mourn the strength of winter.

Wintersong: These snowy songs should provide sufficient support for said sadness. My response to Megan's mix.

Sunshine: To the friend in Chicago who said Megan's mix was too sad, I say this: Check this out. Songs about the sun.

Make with the clicky to make with the listen -- and make your own mixes in response!

Qui Est Fernandel?

Sometimes you don't see something until you've seen it somewhere else -- or you start noticing it more once you've come across it.

Such is the case with me and French comic actor Fernandel. I've not once heard of the man, but today in the New York Times, I read about him in a review mentioning a new book from Taschen. Then, elsewhere in the paper, in an article by an entirely different writer, I was struck by a mention in a theater review.

The second reference would never have hit my radar had I not seen the first -- and the first hit so hard because of the amazing photographs by Philippe Halsman.

Who -- or what -- is your most recent Fernandel?

Publishing No More

According to the most recent catalog mailing -- the Best Book Catalog in the World -- from Loompanics Unlimited, the publisher and distributor of way independent books is going out of business. As outlined in a three-page comic strip illustrated by Bob Crabb, Mike Hoy is hanging up his hat after 30 years of promoting left-of-center and forward-thinking books and ideas.

Despite the 50% Going out of Business Sale, this news makes me sad. Outside of ye olde Blacklist Mailorder and the still-important Maximum Rock'n'Roll, the ever-in-limbo Factsheet 5, V. Vale's RE/Search Publications, and the absolutely mind-blowing Amok Dispatch series, few independent media enterprises have held my heart as closely as Loompanics.

By way of mourning, do take advantage of the half-off sale, but please... PLEASE... someone consider picking up where Mike and his partners in crime -- formerly including the wonderful Steve O'Keefe -- left off.

Loompanics was Big Stuff. I'm sad it's going to be gone. Don't be gone long, please.

Update: I just ordered 20 copies of the Principia Discordia. Buy bulk of you see fit! Let's keep these books alive.

Green Day of Reckoning

I'm also rather proud of my Green Day lens. This might very well rekindle my lost Sweet Baby Electric project -- in a better way. Gods bless the Web!

Yes, We Have New Banana

Banana Yoshimoto is one of my favorite authors, so much so that I tend to buy her new books the very day they hit the bookstore shelves. So it was somewhat to my chagrin that I happened to spy her "new" Hardboiled & Hard Luck while browsing the Union Square Barnes & Noble this morning. Given that it came out last June, I'm rather surprised that I didn't even know it existed. So I bought it. And read it in two sittings. Today.

Given that these two stories were originally published in 1999 and the 149-page book was not translated into English until last year -- 2005! -- I'm a little curious whether Yoshimoto is as prolific as she might be... and whether her relevance in the United States is such that she doesn't warrant more timely translation and publication. How often does she deliver new work in Japan? Why such a long delay to reach American shores? Even though I missed out on this book's release date, I wonder whether the book's publication is anticlimactic. Because there's not a lot here.

Two stories, one accounting for three fifths of this edition, in fact. While the second story, "Hard Luck," is your basic Yoshimoto -- sadly reminiscent familial- and relationship-oriented fiction dealing with loss and yearning -- the first piece, "Hard Boiled" continues in the softly occult direction represented by Asleep -- as well as a possible parallel read, Haruki Murakami's Sputnik Sweetheart. I'm not sure I'm overly keen on the increasingly fantastic aspects of Yoshimoto's work, but it's still a worthwhile read.

In fact, Yoshimoto makes for a perfect wintry Sunday afternoon indulgence. Read her with tea. Take a nap in the sunlight and breeze between pieces. Her writing, like a watercolor painting, is subtle, slight, sleepy, scant, simple, and somewhat naive -- all things I love about her (and to some extent, Murakami's) brand of modern Japanese fiction. Yoshimoto blends regret and redemption, loneliness and loving relationships, pop culture and the personally intimate.

Publishing gossip hounds: When is the next Yoshimoto work expected? I need more sooner than later, and these slim, short volumes -- while cute and cozy -- aren't overly satisfying. Let's get a Yoshimoto-style book like Murakami's The Elephant Vanishes -- or more frequent shorter translated packages like this piece of work. The slim volumes speak volumes, but a slip case of three books like this would be way welcome.

Board Book for Bored Parents

If you've picked up Michelle Sinclair Colman and Nathalie Dion's board book Urban Babies Wear Black, try to tell me you bought it for your child -- and not for yourself. The 10-page "tome" is better suited to explaining your New York City -- or other large urban area -- lifestyle than anything else, and while that's useful, tell me you didn't enjoy the book more than your toddler does.

One parent sure did. The book, stylistically illustrated, touches on why urban babies wear black, do yoga, visit galleries, jog, drink latte, enjoy architecture, appreciate fine dining, attend the opera, and take taxis.

Yet the question remains: Why do urban babies do all these things? Because their urban parents do. Children go where their parents take them, and they do what they do. So this book works on multiple levels. One child enjoyed the opera segment -- perhaps because of his parent's impression of an opera singer -- but didn't respond as well to the yoga segment, which was more up his parent's alley.

What books do you read to your children because your children love them? What books do you read because you love them?

Best Designed Book I've "Red"

I shouldn't have been surprised that Joshua Mowll, author of Operation: Red Jericho, works as a graphic artist for the Mail on Sunday. This is the best designed and packaged book for tweens and teens that I've ever seen. Inspired by Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events, as well as Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentleman, and Mike Mignola's BPRC, not to mention Dan Brown and the less contemporary H. Rider Haggard and Jules Verne, the book is high adventure in high style.

Mowll supposedly inherited the archives of his great-aunt, who was involved in an organization called the Honourable Guild of Specialists. From those archives, he compiled the story of an adventure undertaken by two young adults in 1920. After several family members and friends declined to take the pair under their wings, the siblings fall under the spell Captain MacKenzie, who's apparently on an adventure all his own.

The book takes the two to China, where they help thwart an attempt to take over the world. The story is solid but is given second shift by the book's design and packaging. The most notable aspect of the book is its design: its cover and packaging, the illustrations and sidebars, and the fold-out maps and diagrams. While these instances help tell the tale -- they make for a nice addition -- they're also used as a sort of short hand.

Why fully describe in narration and exposition what a ship or stronghold looks like if you can draw it in a map? Why fully detail or develop a character if you can offer a sketch or biographical sketch? This device can help a book, but it can also hurt it if it's used instead of other storytelling devices, not in addition to. Another notable aspect of the tome is its intertextual references. Within the story, the author name drops Hans Holbein's painting The Ambassadors -- now my desktop wallpaper (and the root of the Dan Brown comparison) -- the French poet Jacques Delille, Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles, David Copperfield, and Wuthering Heights.

I'm not sure whether Mowlls falls prey to the shorthand mentioned above, but I need another book under my belt to fully decide. Until then, the book is interesting in a Raiders of the Lost Ark sense, indicative of where youth fiction might be going, and -- while not a clarion call that more books should be written by designers -- a sure sign that more books need to be better designed in the interactive sense.

Super Bowl Squidoo

I recently added most of my Squidoo lenses to the left sidebar, and today I made a lens that I'm quite proud of: Host an XL'nt Super Bowl Party. Check it out!

What do you know how to do?

Thought for Food IV

While searching for restaurants that deliver in my part of Brooklyn this afternoon, I came across Zipmenu. Serving Brooklyn and Staten Island, the service allows you to find delivery menus based on a ZIP code search -- and then either order online or by phone.

Searching for my part of Greenpoint, I come across almost 40 restaurants. They're organized by whether you can order online -- only a total of three this afternoon -- by phone... or not at all. I assume the "Sleeping" category means that I can't order from them right now -- but that they get back into the mix depending on their hours of operation.

I placed an online order with East 88 on Bedford Avenue: Scallion Pancake, House Salad & Ginger Dressing, and Ma-Po Tofu With Pork. Within minutes, the restaurant had called to confirm my address -- and when the food arrived, the delivery man was very nice. While it's disappointing that so few restaurants let you order online -- I really appreciated the easy online ordering and tip calculation, and the system keeps track of your order history and favorites so you can place repeat orders.

Regardless, the service is valuable even for those restaurants you need to call. Rather than keep a bulging menu folder at home, I now know where I can go online to see what restaurants like Anytime, Bean, Erb, and Union have for delivery -- even if I might be more apt to order online.

A Game of Tomes

When George R.R. Martin's A Feast of Crows showed up on the New York Times's best-seller list for hardcover fiction, the event inspired a mini-tempest in a co-worker's teacup. Never -- ever -- does fantasy fiction approach the top of the best-seller list. While authors such as Dan Brown and Anne Rice have paved the way, it's rare indeed that a book by the likes of David Eddings, Robert Jordan, and their ilk do so with such rapid aplomb.

As mentioned in a previous entry, Martin's 835-page paperback novel, which I just read at the behest of said co-worker, might very well win me back as a fan of fantasy as a genre. This is no soft-boiled story of dragons and leprechauns in which all of the McCaffrey- and Dragonlance-like topics and tropes are trotted out and icons indicated. No, Martin writes with a deeper diction.

Perhaps it was his time working as a writer-producer for the TV series Beauty and the Beast or his stint as story editor for The Twilight Zone -- anyone paddling in the pond of the master of the fantastic Rod Serling must learn many things -- that helped him hone his craft. Regardless, Martin is no Johnny C. Lately aping J.R.R. Tolkien or his more recent lessers J.K. Rowling or Christopher Paolini. This is a good book, regardless of its literary lineage or stereotypical semblance.

What impressed me? Several things. One, the world and its history are hella richly detailed and presented. That can almost be assumed as a given, given the genre, but much of Martin's magic is assumed and yet to be revealed. (Still to say, put a map in a book, and I'm crushing.) Martin also focuses on character development and presentation in an uncharacteristic way -- titling each chapter after the key character and developing them in such a way that you know them, care about them, and look forward to their return. Similarly, Martin implements the idea of call back to good effect, mentioning something in passing -- mere passing, not expository exponentialism -- earlier on and then expanding on its importance and impact later in the book -- oft to surprising sustenance. And lastly, while sex is often worked into fantasy fiction in a cartoony, occasionally gratuitous way, Martin is shockingly explicit -- and mature -- in his use of erotic elements.

While I'm not so hot to trot on the four-book series that this kicks off -- this first volume was first published in 1996, and it's been a six-year wait between volumes three and four -- that I need to read its sequel A Clash of Kings immediately, I will borrow and consume its predecessors in due time. If you've given up on fantasy as the imaginings of emotionally immature romanticists -- if you've avoided the genre because it's usually written by rote repetition -- be sure to explore Martin's output.

This is fantastic fantasy. Even if there be dragons.

Practically Personal Parody

Not long ago, I received a care package from Brett and Chris at Top Shelf Productions. Among its innards, Will You Still Love Me If I Wet the Bed?, a comic by Somervillain Liz Prince. The pocket-sized paperback is a clear descendent of Jeffrey Brown -- especially given his four-panel introduction -- and contained diarist comics of the sort I appreciate: Brown, James Kochalka, and Ben Snakepit.

For the most part, the volume details the workaday ins and outs of Liz's relationship with her beau Kevin. By turns romantic and affectionate, as well as self-deprecating and somewhat demeaning (Liz is by no means shy in detailing her and Kevin's affectionate foibles), the 71 pages of comics tell a love story that's as notable for its mundanity as it is its meaninfulness.

If you've ever been enamored with a partner's micro-details -- how their armpits give you onion breath, the little spazzy skip step they develop when delighted -- you'll resonate with the details in this comic. Liz's armpits smell like celery, Kevin plays the armonica, they like brushing their teeth together, Kevin saves his belly button lint, they have a special corn on the cob kiss, their cat shares their love, and there's -- surprised? -- a little pee fetish going on.

While I appreciated the openly honest nature of the trivia of Liz's relationship with Kevin, I'm also a big fan of her artwork. Using a somewhat more manga-styled approach to Megan Kelso's style, Liz often includes the initial sketch lines in her final panels. In the end, you get a fully fledged portrayal, along with the preliminary shaping that fills out the form. In some respects, the manner represents the work in progress that all relationships are -- even the longest running -- but it also represents the evolving nature of Liz's storytelling and comics work.

This is the kind of comic that could make or break a couple. And whether Liz and Kevin are still together indicates in some ways what kind of man Kevin is. I wish them only the best as a partnership. And I wish Liz only the best in her comics making. This is a wonderful little item, not to be dismissed for its trivia, but to be elevated for its realistic approach to love and coupledom. Love is greater than the sum of its partners, and we are greater than the sum of our characteristics and quirks.

Ask your current partner if they'll still love you if you wet the bed. See what they say.

Event-O-Dex XXIII

Flier, I Hardly...
Originally uploaded by h3athrow.

Went to Jigsaw tonight for the launch party for the 20th issue of Go Metric, celebrating the 10th-and-a-half anniversary of the long-running smart popcult zine.

Readings were given by Mike Faloon, Steve Reynolds, Ken Wohlrob, Tim Hall, Chris Gethard, and Brian Cogan.

It was awesome.