Mother, did it need to be so high?

Once again, I shake my head over the insipid, posing politics of some celebrities, even if they did write a clever lyric from time to time. Is it just knee-jerk naïveté that's led Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters to stump for a cultural boycott of Israel, or is there something more insidious behind his “plea to my colleagues in the music industry, and also to artists in other disciplines, to join the cultural boycott against Israel"? Regardless of motive, destructive is what destructive does. And Israeli musician Kobi Oz offers this cogent response to Waters’ silly solipsism.

I was deeply disappointed to learn that you have [built] a wall between yourself and your Israeli fans… What you may not realize is that most Israelis believe in a two-state solution. But this vision is not as easy to turn into a reality as you may think... I’m surprised that you would choose to side with the extremists who don’t believe in dialogue.

I come from a small town in Israel called Sderot. My hometown is frequently bombarded with missiles from Gaza — eight years of children living in fear, eight years of running to bomb shelters. Yet I meet and play music with my Palestinian colleagues. When there is bad news, we do not boycott each other; we argue. Even when it’s hard, we try to keep in touch, because we know that peace starts with musicians playing together, with the two peoples getting to know each other... We could sign an agreement with a moderate regime and suddenly find ourselves confronted with a fundamentalist enemy. We withdrew from Gaza and got Hamas. We pulled out of southern Lebanon, and now Hezbollah dominates the Lebanese government. We gave back the Sinai, and now Egypt is a great unknown. Still, we yearn for peace.

We try to talk with our neighbors in the Palestinian Authority, where life is getting better for ordinary Palestinians. If Hamas’s leaders would stop the bombardment of Israeli civilians and stop calling for our destruction and start having a normal relationship with their brothers in Ramallah, I’m sure that most Israelis would want to talk to them, too. And our wall, which you want to see dismantled, will fall when we have lasting quiet.

But in the meantime there are events like the murders in Itamar. Terrorists sneaked into a family’s home while they were sleeping and cut their throats. That settlement was outside of our security fence — they did not have this “appalling edifice,” as you called it, to protect them. A father, a mother and three kids — one a 3-month-old infant — paid the price. Should we give up the fence that has made the last few years mostly free of suicide bombers? If we did, would you stand by our soldiers when they go out to intercept terrorists, or would you continue tying our hands while we fight to protect our citizens’ lives?

I didn’t hear your voice, or the voices of your friends in the BDS movement, when thousands of Qassam rockets were being launched at my hometown and neighboring communities after we got out of Gaza. We only heard the world’s voice when we fought back... At your age you ought to be suspicious of open-and-shut narratives of the sort embraced by the BDS movement, and be willing to look more deeply at the other side. Of course, we Israelis have plenty of room for improvement and could do more to pursue peace. But you should understand that if we are cautious, it is because our very survival is at stake. If you truly want to be helpful in bringing about peace, embrace the power of dialogue, not boycotts. Music is for breaking down walls, not for building new ones.

Dan Henderson: Love Hurts

I've crowed about Hendo before, but seeing him climb the mountain and capture Strikeforce's light heavyweight title at age 40 raises him to mutant madman status, earning him that rare and special love I have for warriors like Rick Lenchus and Randy Coulture. My son Benjy tells me Hendo's fighting bums now but I don't buy it. Comparing Strikeforce's top guns to the UFC's may be like pitting the Doom Patrol (or maybe the Metal Men) against the Justice League of America with Superman, but you know what they say about any given Sunday. And watching Hendo lay out Michael "The Mouth" Bisping some years ago was up there with a Bukowski reading. So feed this lion anything he needs to keep his roar, baby. There's kryponite in that heavy right. Saturday night, Strikeforce's reigning 205-lbs. champion Rafael "Feijao" Cavalcante met Dan Henderson for the first time. More acurately, his jaw met Hendo's right. Henderson, the two-time Olympian wrestler, former UFC tournament champion, and two-division Pride champion, is now Strikeforce's light heavyweight king of the hill.

Happy Birthday my Brother

"If you can count your friends on the fingers of more than one hand, you're either a fool or a liar."
--Dave Vnenchak, circa 1978

Happy birthday Dave.

Ms. Nagdim

Nothing will make you feel closer to Chabad than working in Lakewood.

Birthday Party at the Fights

My son Avi and I celebrated my birthday in style at StrikeForce's Heavyweight Grand Prix at the Izod Center last Saturday night. Our seats--courtesy of my son Benjy and his pal MMA talkshow host Ariel Helwani--were six rows off the stage allowing us to rub elbows with the royalty of the mixed martial arts world. That's me with former UFC heavyweight champ Bas Rutten, and my son Avi with Renco and Igor Gracie (who Avi trained under at Real World Martial Arts, a Gracie Ju-Jitsu dojo), as well as runningback legend Herschel Walker. We were also fortunate enough to meet George Saint-Pierre, Kenny Florian and Vitor Belfort.

The StrikeForce card was one of the best I've seen. Not a single decision went to the judges; all serious submissions and TKOs. Big Foot Silva's impressive victory over former Pride heavyweight legend Fedor Emelianenko was the icing on the cake.

Thirty More Years

I was recently interviewed by columnist Rob Trucks for his book about the trauma or pre-trauma or whatever one might call the anticipation of turning 50, which I was at the the time of the interview. I found myself not quite so surprised by this fellow writer's questions as my own answers. Had I spent all year thinking about turning half a century old? Yes, I had. Was I conscious of playing on the back nine? Yes, and there was a frequent line playing in my head, the refrain from my pal Steve Forbert's "Thirty More Years," which addressed his own thoughts on the condition when he faced it. Thirty more years and I am out of here.

Today, the BIG day, brought calls from friends and emails from readers and fellow creators. Paty Cockrum sang to me from South Carolina. Gene Colan, 84, kvelled about how I still had my whole life ahead of me. I treated myself to a copy of Amazing Spider-Man #1 for more money than I should have spent and went off my diet to eat chocolate cake as my small children blew out candles which numbered more than I cared to count. Life may not begin at 50 but playing on the back nine means means I'm on my way towards the clubhouse. And there's no place like home Auntie Em.

Thought for the Day

“We are not mad, we are human, we want to love, and someone must forgive us for the paths we take to love, for the paths are many and dark, and we are ardent and cruel in our journey.” -- Leonard Cohen

Leo Klein, Esquire

I wasn’t crazy about the idea of sharing an office with an attorney like Leo Klein at IDT Entertainment, initially because I’d learned from experience that the best office mate is really no office mate. And my suspicion was confirmed as I discovered that Leo was what cunning linguists refer to as a wee bit verbose—as in he could go to Washington with a mouthful of billiard balls and still out talk everyone. Which, to this writer, meant I’d never get anything written between the hours of 9am and 6pm. Hi ho.

But rooming with Leo—a man who introduced himself as a recovering attorney—also had several distinct advantages, not the least of which was an endless supply of dangerously well told new jokes, at least new to me. Indeed, the one about the bowling ball still has me roaring at inappropriate moments, often with milk through my nose. Leo, clearly, had missed his true calling. Or so I thought.

But eventually I caught Leo with his lawyer hat on. And oddly enough, his stock shot up again. I saw how he handled himself not only with his NBA clients, but also with those occasional nebich cases that wandered into his four cubits. One guy in particular wanted Leo to handle his wife’s funeral arrangement, estate, and so forth, but when Leo learned that the woman was to be cremated, he refused. “She’s a Jewish girl,” he told the client as I looked on in awe. “She had a Jewish mother and a Jewish father. If you’re not giving her a proper burial, I can’t help you. Nazis burn Jews. Jews don’t burn Jews.”

Other than an Elton John tale, which I published years ago, I have far less interesting Leo stories in my quiver than have many of our common friends, but every one has left an indelible impression. And all of this is simply to say that having this fine and ethical and seemingly inexhaustible man in my corner is a comfort and an honor and a privilege.

Bob Milne, RIP

By way of Dave Maliniak, I just learned that our mutual friend and former colleague Bob Milne has passed away. Dave forwarded an email to me from our colleague Lucinda Mattera:

Tonight I received a call from David Marshall who is the neighbor living across the street from Bob Milne. He told me that Bob had passed away unexpectedly this afternoon... Bob has not been feeling well for some time, ever since his atrial fibrillation became permanent a couple of years ago--but he managed somehow. About a year ago, he was informed he needed to replace one of his heart valves. However, he required extensive oral surgery beforehand to treat a serious oral infection. It took Bob many months to complete this dental work, then he had difficulty coordinating events with all his doctors and caregivers for the open-heart surgery.In the ensuing months, his neighbor told me, Bob began to suffer from congestive heart failure. A few days ago, he had great difficulty breathing and was rushed to the hospital. His doctors used cardiac catheterization to implant a stent and open a blocked artery. He was discharged today and wanted to stop by his local CVS on the way home to pick up his medications. He died suddenly right in the store... I will miss him, especially all his insights into computers and the Internet. Bob was a very intelligent fellow who knew how to write quite well. He had a wonderful sense of humor and a terrific wit. I will remember how he often made me laugh and amazed me with his sharp observations. Farewell, Bob. I hope there are computers and test instruments in the afterlife, so you can continue to enjoy tinkering with them. -- Lucinda Mattera

Bob was a warm man with warm insights. We lost track of each other sometime after I left Electronic Design but I remember him fondly. Named a character in one of my stories after him. You don't usually get that unless you're a villain.

Michael Netzer Don’t Get No Respect

Michael Netzer has been blinging around the comic book industry since the mid-1970s. I think blinging is the right word. Imagine a pinball on one of Bally’s old machines.

After apprenticing under Neal Adams, Michael’s professional work (as Michael Nasser) first showed up on DC books like Superboy, Detective and World’s Finest Comics. From that point there were half-a-hundred stops and starts, which fans, foes, and ex-art agents attribute to any number of happenstances. One urban legend claims Michael wandered around the Galilee healing the sick while his walking stick sprouted myrtle. Another finds him sitting in a cave for three years eating nothing but dried carob and old Beach Boys 45s.

Regardless, Michael’s fans remain legion, and his presence in comics is firmly established.

Or so he thought.

A recent article at Newsarama on The Adventures of Unemployed Man—which Michael penciled slightly more than issue of—noted the creative team behind the comic but, oddly, left Michael’s name out. An accident? Maybe.

“I don't want to attribute a motive for columnist Albert Ching omitting my name so blatantly from the ‘several notable creators’ who were enlisted for the art on The Adventures of Unemployed Man,” Netzer replied when I asked him to comment on the snubbing. “The article was just posted yesterday and it struck me as part of a bizarre trend that I may be becoming an object of. Whatever the reason, it doesn't seem like it could be an oversight because I'm only one of three pencilers, and I did draw the grand finale of the book along with more than a quarter of its content. The omission, for whatever reason, indicates a severe lack of consideration in that crediting work properly and fairly in comics journalism has become a statement on the vital role of creators to a project.”

Like his mentor Neal Adams, Michael has always been vocal about the mistreatment of comics’ creators; his own blog posts and sometimes long-winded soliloquies on comics message boards and forums (which, in this authors’ opinion, are rarely self-serving) have earned Netzer both new fans and new foes. He doesn’t necessarily believe that Ching or Newsarma fall into either category, but…

“This book [Unemployed Man] falls between the cracks in the comics’ community because it comes from the wider book market and is not as one of our own,” Michael says. “As such, the writers who orchestrated the entire project astounded us time after time along the way. On the one hand, they certainly didn't have a lack of knowledge of the industry and its conventions. On the other, they seemed to be completely oblivious to some of the most basic tenets of comics’ culture. The cover, for example, only carried the names of the authors. How much more trouble or distraction would it have been to add Fradon, Veitch and Netzer under their names in type that's, say, about half the size? I don't think this was just an oversight but a conscious marketing decision that I believe is very unfortunate for the book itself.”

Michael points out that columnist Heidi MacDonald noted this problem, as well, in her review of the comic; that so many issues undermined the artists’ contribution to Unemployed Man that he is hard-pressed where to begin listing them. “This omission at Newsarama only compounds a serious existing shortcoming of the book,” he laments.

Personally, I‘ve taken more of a gonzo approach to the whole matter of comics’ journalism for many years now. But Newsarama is a more ‘serious’ enterprise and, as such, tends to reflect industry trends and attitudes. Michael is mindful of this. “When Newsarama does something like this, there's nothing left to do than to remind them that they are not doing artists and writers any favors with their coverage of our work,” Michael writes. “Indeed, it’s just the opposite. Most news sites and reporters wouldn't have a life in comics if it weren't for comics creators. It's the bulk of the thrust of their coverage, after all, and it behooves them not to play such infantile games.”

Michael notes that this is not the first time he's experienced professional dissing. He’s only done a handful of comics-related projects in the last year, which were his first after a 15-year absence from the mainstream, and the first of these were four black-and-white covers for Dynamite as a promotional vehicle for a pivotal and highly publicized issue in Kevin Smith's Green Hornet series.

“When Dynamite sent out the covers with the press release teaser,” Michael recalls, “they wrote a lengthy intro but made no mention whatsoever of the artist of the covers that were plastered all over comics news sites. I don't believe it was an oversight and I've heard excuses about these covers not being part of the book itself. But Dynamite went on to use one as an alternate cover, and the excuse is lame in the simple situation where a publisher distributes four loud and effective pieces of art and completely disregards the need to even place a small caption under the images crediting the artist. So I look at these two instances and wonder whether they are part of a trend. Or are they just indicative of a sloppy conduct of business?”

Considering Michael’s reputation as something of a ::ahem:: big mouth—as someone who says and writes things that some publishers (and journalists) might not be happy about hearing—perhaps there’s room to consider these oversights as something less than accidents. “The only other option,” Michael believes, “is sloppy conduct by purportedly professional entities. I'm not sure which of the two possibilities favors their subjects more.”

Integrity Is Not Negotiable

“The chief commodity a writer has to sell is his courage. And if he has none, he is more than a coward. He is a sell-out and a fink and a heretic, because writing is a holy chore.” --Harlan Ellison

Rich Buckler on Meth

I'm delighted to add Rich Buckler to the team of comic artists that I am now working with. I grew up on Rich's Fantastic Four run and his cover work at Marvel is among the finest produced in the Bronze Age. I've had a sensational recreation of his Hulk #255 cover, which I comissioned, hanging in my home for years, and there are plenty more I froth over.

Rich will break his seeming silence here soon and I'll be displaying some of his cover re-imaginings. Subscribe to this blog (it's free) and you won't miss it.

The Green Hornet: This Is What I Was Talking About

That idiot Richard Saperstein, the producer who's scrupulous rectitude leaves much to be desired, is likely hounding his current screenplay writer (like he used to hound me) to change everything he's penning in mid-stream to read like the new Green Hornet film because that's what hacks do when something hits. But this was exactly what I was trying to do with Snaked, my screenplay which was based on my comic book series from IDW Publishing (which I see they've turned into something you can download now). Mix action with the right comedic tone and snappy dialogue and boom: That's entertainment.

The new Green Hornet film is the real deal--a perfect blend of laughs and action. Seth Rogen adds depth and charisma to a potentially flat character while Jay Chou makes the Kato role his bitch. Even the soundtrack was smart.

Move over Iron Man: This was the best super-hero film I've seen yet.

Michael Netzer: The Art of Responsibility and the Responsibility of Art

I've been staring at a blank sheet of blog space thinking about how to announce that I am now representing artist Michael Netzer. And then the title of this post came to me and I realized that if you know anything about Michael then you know everything about him--what he represents and how extraordinary he is.

A fan of Michael's as a boy, I had occasion to meet him once at a New York convention where he drew Batman for me. It was a prized addition to my collection. My generation regarded Michael Nasser (as he was known then) as the ultimate Neal Adams protege until he began morphing into someone wholly Michael, a unique artist who lived the ideals he put forth in his comics work; a creator who cared more about art than money, and more about people than art. His personal quests for enlightenment have kept fans and friends (and family, too, I suspect) often enthralled and sometimes frustrated, asking themselves and each other, "Where is Michael now?" His writings, when he writes, are equally enchanting, dangerously truthful, and uncommonly wise.

Michael and I have been friends for many years now, since first working as colleagues on ill-fated IDT Entertainment films. We rarely see each other these days as Michael resides on a settlement in Israel and I remain in the ruins of New Jersey, but I've picked up the phone when I needed the harmony that Michael restores to unbalanced moments; and offered him illustration and cover work as an editor when I sought someone who could deliver his unique blend of Continuity-trained, Silver-Age sensibility to a post-Digital, hyper-amped, seen-it-all-so-what-can-you-show-me-now audience.

I was pleased and proud when Michael Netzer recently approached me and asked me to represent his art. The invitation came out of nowhere and made all the sense in the world. He joins Gene Colan and the Dave Cockrum Estate as part of a creative portfolio that is frankly less a client list and more of a fraternity.

Karate-do, Gichin Funakoshi, and a Few Words about Avodah Zarah

“The ultimate aim of Karate lies not in victory or in defeat, but in the perfection of the character of its participants.” Those are the words of Gichin Funakoshi, the great grandmaster of karate-do and recognized founder of pre-MMA, modern martial arts.

As a life-long karateka, I feel a particular closeness with Funakoshi Sensei not just because I trained directly under Richard Lenchus (who trained under Kawanabe Sensei in Atsugi, who himself trained under Funakoshi Sensei)--I feel this closeness because Funakoshi Sensei was authentic, a man who mastered himself, someone worth emulating.

Funakoshi Sensei was born in the Yamakawa district of Shuri, Okinawa on November 10, 1868. He began training in Isshinryu at the age of 11 under Master Yasutsune Azato, who also taught him the Confucian classics. Later, he trained with Master Azato's friend and contemporary Master Yasutsune Itosu. Funakoshi dedicated his life to the development and promotion of karate training throughout Japan.

To fully appreciate Funakoshi Sensei’s Shotokan Karate, it is essential to realize that, above all else, Funakoshi was a Chun-tzu. Becoming such, in Confucian terms, is not an accident of birth but rather the result of the development of ethical values (midos, in rabbinic Hebrew). Chun-tzu can be translated variously as gentleman, superior man, and man at his best. Funakoshi was all of this, and his devotion to Confucian teachings was part and parcel of his karate-do.

Confucius said, “He who in this world can practice five things may indeed be considered man-at-his-best.” These five disciplines are Humility, Magnanimity, Sincerity, Diligence, and Graciousness. If you are humble, you will not be laughed at; if you are magnanimous, you will attract many to your side; if you are sincere, people will trust you; if you are gracious, you will get along well with your subordinates (The Sayings of Confucius, New American Library, 1955, p. 110). It is this type of man, Confucius teaches, who can transform society into the peaceful state it was meant to be.

Diligence, which remains undetailed in the above list, fairly well speaks for itself. But by way of a base illustration: When I was younger, I found the spinning back-roundhouse kick awkward. Or perhaps I was awkward. In any event, I was frustrated by the technique and eventually turned to one of my instructors to ask for a few pointers. "Here's the secret," he said, calling me over to whisper into my ear. "Do it a million times."

Years later, when I taught martial arts at the Lubavitcher cheder (a Chassidic children's dayschool) in Morristown, NJ, I had a number of young students, among them the children of two prominent rabbis from the community. But another "rabbi" objected, claiming that karate was a form of idol worship (avodah zarah was the term used). He fought diligently to have my free class removed from the building. What a shocking non-surprise to later find this very man confronted by the NJ State authorities for physically abusing his own pupils. Ignorance and low morals oftentimes go hand-in-hand.

There is nothing in classical martial arts antithetical to classical Torah teachings. Indeed, Professor Chaim Sober's Tora Dojo--a vital part of Yeshiva University's history as far many of us are concerned--makes it clear that the physical and philosophical aspects of classical martial arts are not only in harmony with Torah, they are a healthy supplement, much like the mussar teachings of the 18th century.

Confucianism, as its founder taught, is not a religion – it is an ethical code. Three key principles are emphasized: the principles of Li, Jen and Chun-tzu. Li has several meanings and is often translated as propriety, reverence, courtesy, ritual, or the ideal standard of conduct. It's what Confucius believed to be the highest standard of religious, moral, and social conduct.

Where Li provides the structure for social interaction. Jen makes it a moral system. Jen, the fundamental virtue of Confucian teachings, is the concept of goodness and benevolence and is expressed through recognition of value and concern for others, regardless of rank or class or wealth or poverty. Confucius summarizes the principle of Jen as: “Do not do to others what you would not like them to do to you.” (Analects 15:23) In Pirke Avos, Hillel is translated as having said it this way: "What is hateful to you do not do unto others." Regardless of whether Hillel or Confucius said it first (and neither one of them, history shows, would have sued for copyright infringement), the statements are essentially the same.

Avodah zarah, it seems, is often in the evil eye of the beholder.

The third primary Confucian concept, Chun-tzu, represents the notion of gentlemanliness, of living by the highest ethical standards. The gentleman displays five virtues: self-respect, generosity, sincerity, persistence, and benevolence. His relationships are characterized as follows: as a son, he is loyal; as a father, he is kind and just; as an official, he is faithful; as a husband, he is righteous and just; and as a friend, he is faithful and tactful.

Funakoshi Sensei wrote, “True karate-do places weight upon the spiritual rather than physical matters...in daily life, one’s mind and body should be trained and developed in a spirit of humility, and that, in critical times, one should be devoted utterly to the cause of justice.”

Oh, that all of our "religious" leaders would have such high standards.

Mike Henderson Debuts at Marvel

Can't say I didn't warn you. Artist Mike Henderson is now filling art chores at Marvel after turning in a gorgeous set of illustrations on Aardwolf Publishing's last Hank Magitz book. Jim Reeber, Gene Colan and I were all wowed by Mike and now it's Marvel readers' turn.

You can download Marvel's exclusive Digicomics here (scroll down to see Mike's work on Marvel Digital Holiday Special #2). We expect big things from Mike.

Tough Jew: Neil Ellman

I had the profound pleasure of watching Y.U. Head Coach Neil Ellman guest coach the KYHS wrestling team tonight. The great ones always make it look easy.

Josh Koscheck: The Ultimate Jerk

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Karate-do without courtesy is not karate-do.

Thank you, Georges St-Pierre, for closing this fool's mouth last night. To say nothing of his eye.

Grandmaster Joe Onopa - Remembered

Joe Onopa, Black Belt 10th Degree, Kwon Bop Do (Tae Kwon Do) has passed away. The Grandmaster was the great, great grandson of the Native American Apache Chief Geronimo and a pioneer martial artist. I was honored to receive some small instruction from Master Onopa when he visited my sensei Richard Lenchus in Vermont many years ago, and to have him sit on the committee that judged me for my first blackbelt test (which I failed).

Master Onopa was a warm and powerful man, a revered instructor and fighter, a special friend to those who knew him--in all ways, a testament to the true spirit of karate-do. There is a detailed tribute to him here and a video tribute here. Joe Onopa was 69 when he passed. Oos great hanshi. Domo arigato.

Happy Birthday Richard Lenchus

Happy Birthday Grand Master Richard Lenchus, founder of Legend Shotokan Karate, maker of men, kicker of asses, the Jewish pride of Coney Island.

A Little Help for Paty Cockrum, Please

Paty Cockrum's shattered leg has kept her hospitalized since Sunday. She will be released tomorrow but forced to spend several weeks in rehab. This ain't cheap. Her health insurance covers the lion's share of these costs, but her out-of-pocket is high.

If you're still a collector of back issues, now is the PERFECT time to buy some comics from the Dave Cockrum Estate. These were Dave's personal comics and file copies. Prices are already fair but click here, pick a handful and make me an offer I can't refuse. After all, it's the giving season. As every season should be.

Paty Cockrum is Down But Not Out

Paty Cockrum—the artist, widow of Dave Cockrum, and my dear friend of several decades—took a serious fall yesterday outside of her home in South Carolina that resulted in a shattered femur and an emergency operation that lasted several hours into the evening. I received the phone call regarding the incident from our mutual friend Richard O’Hara while I was visiting Gene Colan and, oddly enough, Gene and I were sitting back admiring original illustrations of Dave’s and Paty’s. The timing of that call was movie stuff.

Paty will be released from the hospital day after tomorrow and spend several weeks in a therapy center, learning to walk again. We spoke this afternoon and, as always, she was in the highest spirits. “I was taking the dogs out when one of them tugged and I must have been on an icy patch,” she reports. “So I went down and my leg was behind me and it broke. Then I dragged myself twenty feet or so back into the house and dialed 9-1-1. ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!’ I told them.”

Always the joker, that Paty.

The Future of Dave Cockrum's Futurians

A number of you have written and even more have hit this blog via keyword searches (yes--we can see you; Google cuts both ways).

The wheels on the FUTURIANS move slowly. There's 20 unpublished, tightly pencilled pages of The Futurians by Dave Cockrum sitting on my desk and inquiries and interest from a number of major comics' publishers to roll-up existing (previously published Futurians' stories) into one BIG book. And there's still the half-interest of occasional Hollywood vecks. Paty Cockrum owns all of the originals and rights to everything so it's not complicated legally, just a question of what we want to do, and with who. Or is it whom?

Gene Colan Recreates Iron Man #1

Read all about it here.

Gene Colan Introduces New Film Book; Offers Original Art For Sale

Now & Then, The Movies Get It Right by Neal Stannard (Bear Manor Media) is a new book that carries an introduction by Gene Colan (and Gene really liked the book). Click here for details.

And just in time for the holidays, the remainder of Gene Colan's original art pages are being sold at greatly reduced (below market) prices. And it's always nicer to buy art directly from the artist. Click here to have a look.

The Good Rats Re-Take Long Island

What makes an old guy leap from his seat, topple his warm beer, and elbow four middle-aged women out of the way to catch a rubber rat thrown from a garbage pail? Bad manners, you say. Well, okay—besides that.

Tonight’s scene at Mirelles’ in Westbury, Long Island, could easily have taken place 35 years ago at the legendary My Father’s Place in Roslyn, or the Showplace in Dover, New Jersey, or any number of metropolitan nightspots festooning the punk-trodden East Coast.

The original Good Rats were in the house for several hours of music and mischief that brought back every tasty nuance that the 300-odd baby boomers who were packed into the room (at $50 a head!) remembered and loved and longed for. Long Island’s favorite rock-and-roll sons brought the legion to their feet with each Rats' hit—from “Taking It to Detroit” to “Injun Joe” to "Don't Hate the Ones Who Bring You Rock 'n Roll"—all delivered with the same precision that distinguished the world's greatest unknown Rock and Roll band years ago to music aficionados as far more than the super garage-rock combo they were more widely known for. And the stage antics we adored and sometimes feared made it seem like these guys were never really gone.

Despite recent wrestlings with pneumonia, John "The Cat" Gatto's and Mickey Marchello's dueling guitar leads were never more impressive, while Peppi Marchello's hospital vacation (I mean, what else would you call it? the Rat Maestro never takes a night off unless there's a tube shoved down his throat) made it hard for the celebrated songwriter to get the flesh in his voice and hit some of his notorious high notes.

There's a new Rats album in the works, too—a collection of never-released tunes, many from "the old days." And rumor has it there will be one more reunion gig in Manhatten or New Jersey sometime next year, but that might be the ballgame folks. So pay attention when I tell you that this is one of the greatest shows on earth, ranking alongside The Pogues and AC/DC as legendary must-see live acts. That they never achieved blanketed, international coverage while far lesser bands topped the charts only goes to prove the McDonalds mentality of the record-buying masses. The best writers are rarely best sellers, either.
But the Good Rats, known only to a million or so fortunate enough to have graduated high school in New Jersey or Long Island between ’74 and ‘80, yes those rascally Rats remain the greatest unsung jukebox heroes to ever strike three or more chords on a Fender. And it’s a shame, my friends—a damn shame if you miss them.

Final photos: The Ratettes rise for another riggling of the rumps for "Yellow Flower"

Chuck Liddell and Rich Franklin: Role Models for this Generation of Ring Warriors

On Saturday evening, Chuck Liddell broke Rich Franklin's arm. And about five minutes later, Rich knocked Chuck out, effectively ending his UFC career.

One week later, someone caught this perfect moment on film: Chuck Liddell singing Rich Franklin's cast.

"Karate-do without courtery is not karate-do." --Gichin Funakoshi

Peppi Marchello On the Mend

I've been quiet about it because illness is illness and nobody's business, but it seems the rat's out of the bag. Peppi has been hospitalized and close to the edge for weeks now. I spoke regularly with his wife Kathy and received frequent progress reports about everything from his blood levels to the color of his stools (and if that's not love, what is?) But, after too long, Peppi is home again and we spoke yesterday morning. Then, this evening, he sent this message to his fans:

Dear fans: Thanks for the well wishes and concern you have expressed to me and my family during this critical time in my life. Due to all the blood thinners I have to take since my open heart and valve replacement surgery in 2002, and my stent installation in 2009, I experienced massive blood loss during my 2 recent endoscopies to remove a bleeding polyp in my stomach. I had to receive 13 units of blood and frozen plasma. The doctor told me some of the blood was donated by Dee Snider and since then, I have been wearing a halter top and lipstick. But seriously, I came close to singing my final performance of 'Songwriter' but thanks to God, my family's prayers and yours, I'll be coming back to the greatest job and fans anyone can have. God willing, I hope we can continue to enjoy each other's company at gigs like the reunions, Ratstock and all the other shows throughout the year. I am going to release a CD of songs I have written and recorded that never made it onto a CD or album, although I'm sure many of you will recognize them from live performances over the years. Again, thanks for all your support and I hope to see you soon.
- PEPPI

Cain Valasquez TKOs Brock Lesnar

For my money, tonight's fight wasn’t about finally having the first Heavyweight Mexican Champion, despite how it was promoted. It was about Cain Valasquez, a serious wrestler and better MMA fighter finally showing that the UFC’s bad-attitude bully Brock Lesnar was beatable. And the brutal asswhooping he gave him.

I stood in a room crammed with dozens of hooting Jersey billies and their drunken female know-nothings who bayed like dogs at the wide-screens the minute big, bad Brock strutted in to the tune of “Enter Sandman.” And it occurred to me once again that no one who knows and follows MMA could cheer for this roid-raged WWF goon; that this legion of lemmings in bars across the fruited plains are just bandwagon followers who have never wrestled, never boxed, never trained in any martial art, and never known anyone who did; idiots who yell “woo-hoo!” and chant “U-S-A!” at inappropriate times. Nothing made me feel better than watching them shut up as their thyroid freak Viking-wannbe got his head kicked in. Staggering around like a broken marionette, Lesnar didn’t even make it out of the first round. A TKO at 4:12.

Wrestlers and karateka salute Cain Valasquez, the new undisputed heavyweight champion of mixed martial arts.

More from NY ComicCon

Photo of editor Jim Salicrup and Mrs. Meth's son Clifford courtesy of blogger Bryan Reesman.

We Get Letters

I just wanted to say thank you for all you've done and continue to do for Dave Cockrum and his wife Paty. As you can guess from my name, I was/am a big fan, and when he passed, I read about how tough his last years were, and how you were there to help, and still are to this day. It made me want to thank you personally, but I've never had the chance, until now, when I noticed you were a mutual friend of my old pal Tom Orz. Just please know, at least one fangirl in this world thinks you're pretty damn awesome, and appreciates you and what you do; truly, you are the embodiment of the word "friend". Please, continue to ROCK.

Your pal,
Storm Bourbon-Glossen

Thanks for the nice note, kiddo. I don't know Tom Orz but I'm sure he's a swell guy. I only love Dave & Paty, and helping them was the greatest pleasure. Better than sex. Better than vengence. Better than publishing. -CM

New York ComicCon, Here to Stay

NY ComicCon. Small enough to allow you to see old friends (if you isolate yourself to Artists Alley, which I did) yet large enough to put San Diego on notice. I spent entire the day with Gene Colan, who we snuck in unannounced--and just as well--and was delighted to take time with Walter Simonson, Paul Levitz, Glenn Haumann, Rich Johnston and David Lloyd (all pictured) along with Herb Trimpe, Ramona Fredon, Gary Fields, Todd Nauck, John Workman and Jim Salicrup... Walter's convention stories were hands down the best, but you'll have to hear them from him.

Shakeup At Aardwolf: Where's Amy?

Aardwolf Publishing's gal Friday Amy has apparently taken it on the lam. Aardwolf's president Jim R. (my favorite editor, at least until this incident) came back from a three-week vacation to find that nothing had been accomplished around his office in months. That is if you don't count the spider webs. His contracted authors, myself among them, are very unhappy about this.

Amy: If you're reading this, it's rather unfair that readers haven't gotten their books. Further, Jim is out of toner, paper, toilet supplies, and has no clue what his PayPal account is. He tells me he's sorry he called you a stupid cow.

Talking to G-d

Where I'd rather daven (#1 being the highest, #10 the lowest):

1. The Kotel
2. Hevron, in the kever where our Avos are buried
3. Next to the Rebbe, z"tl, when he was alive, in that little room upstairs at 770
4. Anywhere else in Eretz Yirosel
5. With Rabbi Kahane, z"tl
6. In a quiet shul, where everyone is respectful (which seems to only exist in my mind)
7. Alone in my house
8. In a clean toilet
9. In a dirty toilet
10. The Chabad of Northwest NJ

Make Mine Stan Lee

I've known this generous man for three decades, but it's always a thrill to get a note from Stan or hear him on the phone... And in a few weeks, I get to see his smiling face in person.

Cliff,

The greatest of New Years to you and yours!

I'll be looking forward to seeing you and Gene [Colan] in N.Y. I think it's great that you've been so helpful to him all this time. But then, great people do great things--that's why they're great!

Excelsior!

Stan

A Rabbi & A Priest Walk Into a Bar (or How Kars4Kids Literacy Program Made Me Give Up Cigars for Lent)

As reported in The South Orange Patch

On Monday, Sept. 13, the Kars4Kids Literacy Program presented Seton Hall University with a full Talmudic library during a ceremony held in the Dean's Office of Walsh Library. Presiding over the event was Fr. Lawrence Frizzell, who began by addressing the university community in prayer.

The Talmud is a central text of Judaism, written as a record of rabbinic discussions pertaining to Jewish customs, ethics, history, law and philosophy. "These texts will be a great benefit for our students in the Jewish-Christian Studies Masters program," Frizzell said. "Those students will use the Talmuds more frequently than others. But, the texts will be available for all students and the university community to use as well."

The donation was part of a recent Kars4Kids mandate, aiming to provide educational resourcesto children and students in need. Kars4Kids is a national organization providing for the spiritual, emotional and practical needs of children. The national, 501(c)(3), nonprofit organization was established in 2000.

Upon donating the sacred texts to the university, Kars4Kids spokesman Clifford Meth recounted his early exposure to Judeo-Christian studies and was glad that he could give other students a chance to appreciate what he has. "Today's student studies towards vocational goals," Meth said. "But it wasn't long ago that we educated ourselves for the sake of learning. These texts offer that opportunity to Seton Hall students."

On hand to accept the donation to the Walsh Library was university Archivist Alan Delozier. According to Delozier, the 73-voulme Talmudic library will be catalogued into theuniversity's library in hopes of having the sacred texts available for students soon.

"The Talmud is the essential reference work for scholars and beginning students alike who are interested in Biblical history," Meth said. "We are delighted to present this full library to Seton Hall, where the study of the Bible is so clearly emphasized."

Gene Colan: The best of times, the worst of times

Did Gene Colan live happily ever after? He's certainly had a rough year—even rougher than the rest of America. But he’s had no illusions. Gene understands that it's hard work and perseverance alone that define a man’s destiny.

Gene, who turned 84 last week, spent the first half of 2010 in a hospital bed recovering from a broken shoulder and many thought he’d never draw again. But that’s like betting against the Yankees. Down the in 9th, two outs, nobody on, and Gene has proven once again that if anyone has the right to wear the spandex of Captain Comeback.

Gene spent today with fellow artist Rudy Nebres (pictured above) at ComicArt Con in Secaucus greeting fans, talking comics, answering questions, and reminiscing about Adrienne, his wife of 48 years, who passed away in June of congestive heart failure. His message was the same one he imparted ten years ago when the doctors informed him that he'd remain blind in one eye, and years before that when Jim Shooter chased him away from Marvel for a short spell: You take the chin music, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep going. And he has. His current commission work is as sharp today as anything he’s ever created, and his last book, Captain America #601, took this year’s Eisner Award for best single issue.

Pay attention. There's a lesson in this for all of us.

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Randy Coulture Drops James Toney Like a Bad Habit

James Toney’s first MMA fight (against living legend, 47-year-old Randy Coulture) didn’t make it out of the first round. It didn’t even make it out of the fourth minute. What was this dummy thinking?

Yes, James Toney is an accomplished boxer who has been KO’ing people since the late 1980s. But the UFC isn't a boxing match with 16-oz. gloves laced on 90-IQ gorillas. The morons who said Toney had a "puncher’s chance" and were brain-dead enough to put their money on this stiff obviously never wrestled.

Watching Randy mug this goon reminded me of my Morris Hills High School Fraternity Brothers visiting Fairleigh Dickinson University in Madison, NJ, for my birthday. A fight broke out between our party (a few college freshmen and about a dozen high school guys) and another party of perhaps 20 college-age upper classmen, most of them starting players for FDU’s Divison-Three football team. The FDU defensive line was bigger, older, stronger and seriously outnumbered my teenage pals. And we beat the bejesus out of them (didn't we Johno?)

The moral of the story: Don’t fight wrestlers.