It's here! It's here! All the local news headlines you need to know about, delivered straight to your e-mail box and from there to your little grey brain.
Learn more about it here.
Sign up at the handy link below.
CLICK HERE to get on board with your very own MISCmedia MAIL subscription!
via wikipedia
the fullbright company
The Penny Arcade Expo (PAX) is one of the video-game industry’s biggest conventions. Appealing to both fans and industry people, it often sells out its annual occurrence at the Washington State Convention Center.
One game company, with a major new product to promote, won’t be there.
The Portland-based Fullbright Company has a “story exploration” title Gone Home. Set in a large, mysterious Oregon house in 1995, it includes musical tracks by ’90s Riot Grrrl-era bands Bratmobile and Heavens to Betsy.
Fullbright got an invite to show off Gone Home at PAX’s “Indie Megabooth,” a portion of the Convention Center show floor dedicated to games from small developers.
Fullbright’s small staff turned the invite down.
They cite several reasons, but basically they’re offended by stances and “jokes” made by PAX founders Jerry Holkins and Mike Krahulik.
•
It’s a long story, but here’s the short version:
PAX, as anyone who’s even thought of going to it knows, is an offshoot of Penny Arcade, a web comic by Holkins and Krahulik. The strip is full of in-jokes about games and gamers.
In August 2010, PA ran a strip called “The Sixth Slave.”
The strip was a one-off gag about user challenges in multi-player games such as World of Warcraft, in which users challenge other users to “kill 10 bad guys” or “save five prisoners” in an allotted amount of time.
In the cartoon, a character pleads with another character to save him from slavery:
…The comic features a (white, male) slave begging for rescue from another character. “Hero!†he pleads. “Please take me with you! Release me from this hell unending! Every morning, we are roused by savage blows. Every night, we are raped to sleep by the dickwolves.†The hero tells him, “I only needed to save five slaves. Alright? Quest complete.†The prisoner protests, “But…†The hero interrupts him, “Hey, pal. Don’t make this weird.â€
The above description comes from a post by guest blogger “Milli A”, at the feminist/political blog Shakesville. As you might expect, she didn’t like the gag at all.
She explained that she didn’t like any reference to rape in a context of attempted humor. Even in meta-fantasy situations; even with a male victim; even when it’s mentioned as a violent crime, within a list of other violent crimes.
Holkins and Krahulik’s attempted explanation in a subsequent strip merely further annoyed critics. Many of these critics interpreted the explanation as the product of game-geeks who didn’t “get” the experiences of real-life victims of violence.
Holkins and Krahulik’s subsequent responses to the increasing controversy seemed to depict their critics as outsiders who didn’t “get” gamer culture and the strip’s humor (which, admittedly, is sometimes morbid and often requires deep knowledge of gamer tropes).
Krahulik, in particular, seems to have gone “extreme” in condescending Twitter and email “jokes” about the critics. It’s as if he were consciously trying to affirm the common stereotypes of male game-geeks (and of male scifi/fantasy geeks in general) as socially-inept dweebs who can’t relate to anyone outside their own subculture, especially if that anyone is a female who’s not wearing spandex.
This is a shame for many reasons. One reason is that PA and PAX have been supportive of female gamers and game creators in the past.
Can they realize, and once-n’-for-all state, that there’s nothing daringly “politically incorrect” about their past statements?
As you may know, Doctor Who fans are among the most rabid in all of scifi/fantasy fandom.
It was fans’ continued devotion to the original Who series (1963-89) that eventually persuaded the BBC to “reboot” the franchise, premiering in 2005.
And these fans have their own ongoing quest for their own Holy Grail—the episodes of the original DW series that the BBC destroyed (via erased tapes and rubbished film prints) back in the early 1970s, when old black-and-white entertainment shows were considered worthless.
Discoveries of old syndication prints in recent years have reduced the number of “Missing Episodes” down to 106. All of those are from 1964-69 and feature the show’s first two stars, William Hartnell and Patrick Troughton.
Every so often, rumors would come up within fan circles and on DW online message boards, claiming more missing episodes had been unearthed. These rumors often crop up around April Fool’s Day. Fans have learned to routinely dismiss them, unless and until the BBC officially says something.
As DW‘s 50th anniversary approaches (it first premiered in Britain on the day after JFK was shot), the rumors of found episodes have resurfaced.
And they’re more grandiose than ever.
Instead of just a few individual episodes or story arcs being supposedly found, this time a whopping 90 episodes, comprising all or part of 23 story arcs, are supposed to now be on their way toward a DVD loading slot near you.
The same cache of off-air film prints supposedly also includes discarded installments of other BBC shows, and duplicate prints of some already extant DW episodes.
At least that’s what Rich Johnston, writing at the UK fan site Bleeding Cool, says he’s heard.
Mind you, Johnston isn’t claiming the rumors are true. He’s just spreading them.
Johnston’s also posted a quote from one professional film archivist, who’d been attached to the rumor, and who emphatically denies any involvement with or knowledge of any found DW episodes.
And Johnston’s reported an official BBC no-comment.
Over the decades, the missing episodes have engendered a global, volunteer fan industry.
Long before the Internet, the DW fan community exchanged information and documents about the episodes.
The soundtracks to all the lost episodes were found, having been recorded by young fans off of the original telecasts.
Some fans even had off-screen home movies of brief scenes.
As home-video equipment got cheaper and better, fans made “reconstructions” of missing episodes, using the soundtracks and existing (or digitally re-created) still photos.
There have even been fan-made animated versions of the episodes, made in styles ranging from amusing to creepy.
BBC Video made two of its own reconstructions for a few VHS and DVD releases of extant DW stories, and has commissioned professional animations of nine episodes.
Meanwhile, fans and film/video collectors (along with the BBC) have hunted down syndication prints originally rented out to broadcasters around the world.
What if all this were to suddenly (mostly) end?
What if almost all the black-and-white Doctor Whos did appear, ready for restoration and release?
Then all these people, who learned (or taught themselves) all these skills, can use them to create their own stories.
Then the original DW could become just another beloved old TV show, which people would view and admire but not necessarily feel a part of.
Nah. That couldn’t happen, not in all of time.
lynn emmert via fantagraphics.com
I swear I’m gonna have thoughts about the end of the Egyptian Theater and other things soon. But there’s only one story for me for today.
Kim Thompson, co-owner and co-publisher of Fantagraphics Books and The Comics Journal, died Wednesday morning, less than four months after being diagnosed with lung cancer.
The Danish-born Thompson grew up loving both European and American comics, from crude superhero fare to slick French graphic albums. He came to the U.S. at age 21 and immediately became friends with Gary Groth, who’d started The Comics Journal with Mike Catron as a teenager. When Catron moved on to DC Comics, Thompson became Groth’s partner at the Journal. By the early 1980s, they’d branched out from reviewing comics into publishing their own.
By 1989 they moved their already substantial operation from the L.A. suburbs to Seattle.
I came to know, and work for, them soon after that.
In the office, Thompson played the “good cop” role. Where Groth was a demanding taskmaster and a hard-nosed boss (at least back then), Thompson was more easygoing and soft-spoken. He still had the same painstaking care as Groth for putting out the best comics and books possible, and for getting the most production value out of an in-house design shop run (at that time) on bobby pins and baling wire (and top talent, such as the late graphics ace Dale Yarger).
Thompson could also hold his own in making deals with comics creators, distributors, and retailers, and with the mainstream media. He famously told the Village Voice, “[L]et’s face it. If you’re a shop that has any claim to carrying alternative comics and you’re not carrying [Daniel Clowes’s] Eightball or [Chris Ware’s] Acme Novelty Library, that’s stupid.â€
Eventually, Thompson got to make his books’ physical aspects as slick and professional as the content of the art within them, expanding from magazines and trade paperbacks into hardcovers and slipcase box sets.
Groth and Thompson’s books won awards in and out of the comics/graphic-novel niche. With recognition came clout, the kind of clout that got them the reprint rights to Peanuts, Donald Duck, and many other classics.
Their original publications, from Daniel Clowes’s Ghost World to Joe Sacco’s Safe Area Gorazde, continually redefined the range of stories and moods the medium could convey. Comics were more than (as the tired cliché went) “not just for kids anymore.” They were a true art form; and, thanks partly to Fantagraphics and its stable of creators, the “mainstream” audience began to recognize this.
As the book trade roiled at the “disrupting” influence of e-books and chain bookstores’ rise and fall, Fantagraphics continued to grow. Its beautiful hardcover packaging helped readers to see its titles as art works in themselves, things people wanted to own as physical, tangible objects.
Thompson’s legacy, besides the many great cartoonists whose work he helped assemble, promote, and nurture, could be this packaging.
In it, he showed the rest of the (print) book industry how to stay in demand.
via musicruinedmylife.blogspot.ca
The Fastbacks, the “Seattle Scene’s” most enduring band (and one of its most loveable), recorded lots of great cover songs (originally by the Raspberries, the Sweet, and even Sesame Street!) in addition to their many originals. Some of these were buried on “tribute” compilation CDs. Here’s a list of 17 such tunes, and a slightly longer but still incomplete list.
Elsewhere in randomosity:
There is no such thing as a private language. We speak in order to be heard, we write in order to be read. But words also speak through us and, sometimes, are as much a dissolution as an assertion of our identity.
ebay photos, via thestir.cafemom.com
wu ming, via daily kos
via cartoonbrew.com
via geekwire.com
capitolhillseattle.com
boxofficequant.com
Pay close attention to the above image.
It indirectly has to do with a topic that’s been going around here of late, including on this site.
The premise: Seattle has become the new nexus of the book industry.
Amazon now firmly pulls the strings of both print and e-book sales, at least in the realm of “trade books.”
Costco and Starbucks also hold huge influence over what the nation reads.
Nancy Pearl’s NPR book recommendations hold huge sway.
And we buy lots of books for local consumption, giving Seattle readers an outsized role in making bestsellers and cult classics.
See anything missing in the above?
How about actual “publishing” and “editing”?
Now to explain our little graphic.
Cincinnati companies once had an outsize influence in the TV production business.
Procter & Gamble owned six daytime soaps, which in turn owned weekday afternoons on the old “big three” networks.
Taft (later Great American) Broadcasting owned Hanna-Barbera, which in turn owned Saturday mornings on the networks.
But if you think of TV content actually shot in Cincinnati, you’ll probably remember only the credits to the L.A.-made WKRP In Cincinnati.
And maybe a similar title sequence on P&G’s N.Y.-made The Edge of Night.
We’re talking about one of America’s great “crossroads” places. A town literally on the border between the Rust Belt and the South, in a Presidential-election “swing state,” often overshadowed by cross-state rival Cleveland. A place with innumerable potential stories to tell.
But few of these potential stories have made either the small or big screens.
The last series set in Cincinnati was the short-lived Kathy Bates drama Harry’s Law.
The only TV fare made in Cincinnati has been a couple of obscure reality shows.
The lesson of the above: prominence in the business side of media content isn’t the same as prominence in the making of media content.
What of the latter, bookwise, is in Seattle?
Fantagraphics has tremendous market share and creative leadership in graphic novels and in comic-strip compilation volumes.
Amazon’s own nascent publishing ventures have, so far, aroused more media attention than sales.
Becker & Mayer packages and edits coffee-table tomes for other publishers, and now also provides books and “other paper-based entertainment… direct to retailers.”
The relative upstart Jaded Ibis Productions combines literature, art, and music in multimedia products for the digital era.
We’ve also got our share of university presses, “regional” presses, and mom-n’-pop presses.
Still, the UW’s English Department site admits that…
Seattle is not exactly a publishing hub… so job openings are very limited and most local presses are small and specialized.… In any location, those seeking jobs in editing and publishing far exceed the number of jobs available; competition is very vigorous.
And these are the sorts of jobs people relocate to get, or even to try to get.
Of course, Seattle also has many writers and cartoonists of greater and lesser renown. But that’s a topic for another day.
neil hubbard via cousearem.wordpress.com
capitol records via wikipedia
Here’s a company that had a four-year head start to reinvent its model, its journalism, and its overall mission. And here’s what the business side has apparently been doing the whole time — figuring out new ways to run advertising on top of advertising on top of advertising… It shows how bereft of ideas the business side is for making money from journalism on the Internet.
via cartoonresearch.com
Lots of people love and remember View-Master 3D photo reels, including those involving dolls based on cartoon characters.
Not many people realize View-Master was invented, and based for the longest time, in Portland.
View-Master’s expertise in making cartoon models and settings was the real basis for the Portland stop-motion animation tradition of Will Vinton (The California Raisins) and Laika Films (Coraline, ParaNorman).
Success Story, a documentary series made by KING-TV and its Portland sister station KGW-TV, produced a live half-hour tour of the View-Master studio and factory in 1960.
A kinescope film of the telecast made its way onto the collector circuit. It’s now been posted online by animation historian, scholar, and restorer Jerry Beck.
The factory was the site of an eco-scandal much later. Drinking water at the plant came from the company’s own supply well, on the factory site. Years later, that well was found to be contaminated with residues from processing chemicals (mostly an industrial solvent). Perhaps 1,000 employees over the years received long-term exposure to the tainted water. The factory closed in 2001; the site’s supposed to be all cleaned up now.