Orlok has given up valuable Xbox time this week to read the latest from the House of Tharg to hit Mordor. These are his thoughts…
Well that’s very nice and evocative of where the strip inside is headed. And I’m not talking about the tentacles, either. Those are foul by the way as they have little mouths on them which is hentai taken to new and disturbing levels. Having seen the drafts of this on the fabulous Pete Wells Blog (go there now!) I really appreciate what he has done with the hands and how lifelike they appear to be. The colour schemes of the logo are very well complimented too. It won’t be cover of the year but it is still striking stuff.
Inside Tharg tells us about the upcoming series of Kingdom and has that face on while he does so. You know the one; the one that if he were played by Kevin Costner in a 1990 hit movie it would be called Rapes With Eyes.
Just so we’re clear here, Tharg is a CHARACTER currently inhabited by Matt Smith. By referring to Tharg in any derogatory terms I am not referring to Matt Smith that way. I mean, it is Tharg and not Mr Smith, who commands the young and old alike to hold his mighty organ in previous nerve centre blurbs, isn’t it? And anyone who thinks different is a retarded douchenozzle.
And if I have smashed your illusions here and pulled back the curtain to reveal an inconvenient truth then I also have some unfortunate news about Santa.
I like where this is headed, though the script is a little curious in places. There’s a lot of John Smith-like bobbins at the start with the foray into Stonefish’s mind but the rest cleverly expands the tale without overdoing it.
The contents of the package turn out to not be as expected and it is hinted that the expectation was that there would be something more and perhaps it is the absence that is significant.
Character-wise this is nice, with Joyce getting a good line in humour when he is jumped by two perps (“Oh really?”) and the reference to the cold did not go unnoticed, which is a nice tie in to the events of Enceladus.
Joyce correctly identifies the drawing as the Emerald Isle Hall of Justice, though it could just as easily be a badly constructed butt plug.
There’s also a new Chief in the Emerald Isle since the last time we dropped in and the Deputy Chief has a badass eyepatch. Fuck the bionics, this is old school!
The wall of the fallen conspicuously does not feature Charlie Joyce, which means he either didn’t die on duty or there was a fall from grace after his previous illustrious career. It does feature Judges Blimey and O’Reilly though…excellent.
The tale of the Saint Joshua seems somewhat ominous and it appears we are going to get a connection to that at some point. Is the forging of the Anglo-Irish détente a conveniently constructed falsehood and one that Joyce Sr uncovered?
There’s definitely shenanigans going on behind the scenes and I hope we get a good journey between now and the reveal.
The art is beautiful as always but there is one really confusing bit which is when Stonefish magically gets loose. After apparently decking a few Judges, Joyce and his oppo steam in and shoot him but the next panel has Stonefish back in his seat being attended to. If this all took place in his mind then there should have been a later explanation or at least a Dutch angle to differentiate it from the rest of the tale. So, I have no idea if this happened or not. If it did really happen, what was the point? If it didn’t happen, why wasn’t it referred to as a ploy by the Psi Judges?
Nice to see a few stray hairs on Dredd’s chin. The old guy is getting sloppy.
There are some lovely expressions on offer here too, particularly on the face of Stonefish as he is undergoing interrogation.
A great follow on, this.
With Absalom and his tattered coat and battered mobile (I love those little touches) off investigating privately it is down to Sangster to do the legwork.
The visit to the antiquities dealer has some truly horrifying puppets and a Nazi trunk but Harry saves his best social interaction for the poor Japanese tourists in the pub. That was masterful stuff.
Daniel is also clearly a wrong un. He has a Dredd poster, plays FPS games and has semi naked ladies plastered on his wall, proving his hatred for them. He’s the worst kind of human being imaginable.
The art is just gorgeous. My favourite panel has to be the one at the phone box with the homeless guy sleeping behind it and the well to do city gent inside the box, pissing in it. That’s a whole social commentary in one snapshot.
Second best was the Japanese tourists being pulled away while Harry is distracted from his reverie about John Wayne films.
And look at those layouts!
Worth it alone for the cracking splash page of the Lord of the Cyth.
You know, all this eat of my flesh, drink of my blood stuff sounds very familiar of another death cult I’ve read about somewhere. I wish I could place it.
With Slaine hacking his way through a variety of abominations/Swansea residents, Sinead is sent on a side quest to find the person mentioned last week. Really late in the day, as I recall. To be honest, I’ve kind of lost interest.
Gort being revealed as the primordial is an odd move but it gives us a look at him warping out, which is an excellent opportunity for some lovely Davis indulgence.
Hmmm. I’m a little undecided on this.
After his ordeal, brick shithouse Carcer is accused of faking his PTSD but luckily Colonel Luthra is more sympathetic and in an effort to gain Hurde intel she agrees to help. So long as he doesn’t have to commute and he gets access to everything they have on the Hurde, Carcer is fine with this. Will his new eyes be sending all of this to the Hurde? Maybe. Maybe not.
I was more worried about the six naked breasts on the last page. That’s got to be a record for one page in the Galaxy’s Greatest Jazzmag.
And they let children read this filth?
Let’s go with the art first and heap praise on the beautiful old school cop shop with a blue lamp, closely followed by the scenes in the fugue and then the crazy angles. I love it.
I even loved the little detail of how the tank was cordoned off with lanterns.
As anticipated, the visitor marks Hodge out as one of his people, her long stay above the locals diluting her natural features like an olden days Rachel Dolezal.
He reveals that the cities below are like terrariums and that mutated denizens exist within the fog, preying on the unwary. Again, I’m thinking this is all an allegorical tale about not venturing down the A483.
Anyway, this brings much worry about how the meatheads could have followed him up the mountain.
Stupidly he reveals that the underdwellers have known about the upsiders for years having scouted through the fugue and even listened in on broadcasts. That’s his story, anyway, and they could have waterboarded survivors for all we know.
Look, never trust a green haired man with a tank is all I’m saying.
Gotta be Absalom. Superb stuff.