Ever since my laziness led me to go through two issues at once to catch up near the end of the first series, it’s been my practice to tackle new issues of the Anita Blake comics over the weekend after they come out. This time, however, there was a problem, as my Internet connection inexplicably died Saturday night, with no technicians available to check it out ’til Monday.
Could it be that fate itself didn’t want me reviewing the latest issue of Laurenn J. Framingham’s vamperotic “master” “work?”
Apparently not. Just when I’d resigned myself to another night devoted to Batman: Arkham Asylum, the connection popped back up, so I guess fate has decreed that I will once again
suffer through another 22 pages for your amusement shine the light of scholarship onto the mysteries of the story. So, you know, I’ve got that goin’ for me.
Now on with it! Grab your own copy and follow along!
1.1: When we last left Anita, she’d taken a hooker back to her apartment with Jean-Claude, but like most things in Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter (up to and including the title), this is not as exciting as it sounds.
That’s right, folks: It’s another eight pages of talking. I have to say, though, as much as I’ve pointed out how this book tends to dwell on the aspects of vampire hunting that involve neither vampires nor hunting, I actually would’ve liked to see the scene where Jean-Claude goes into Anita’s room, looks around at all the stuffed animals (some of which have been poorly laundered recently) and just getting weirded out.
1.4: In this panel, Anita claims that she feels “like a bully.”
Considering that Bully the Little Stuffed Bull is mostly known for stuff like Ten of a Kind, 365 Days With Ben Grimm and other upbeat comics blogging rather than badgering weepy hookers, it’s safe to assume that she feels like Jimmy Hopkins, and regrets not picking the flowers in front of the Girl’s Dorm before starting a social interaction.
2.5: And now, dialogue!
The gun in question is Anita’s Firestar nine milimeter, last seen in the book’s most recent scene that involved something resembling action, which was five issues ago. As to why Wheelchair Wanda–and yes, that is the character’s actual name–feels the need to ask if it’s the same gun, and why this made it into both a novel and its comic book adaptation without being cut as pointless busywork for letterer Bill Tortolini, take it up with Framingham. I just read ’em, folks.
3.5: Aaaaaaaaaand we have our first reference to torture of the disabled for sexual thrills as a plot point. Rad. Reference #2, incidentally, will come on page four, but as it’s a reference to torture of the disabled performed by the disabled, it’s probably a matter to be addressed separately. Preferably by someone far less sober than I.
5.4: Prepare your mind for a literary technique, son:
Wow. That is deep. But it should be noted that before the author decided to blow your mindwith that stunner of a revelation, the passage was originally written thus:
Gaynor had done worse than killer her. He had hurt her. And he wished to go on hurting her. He shall leave her as she left him, marooned for all eternity in the center of a dead planet… buried alive!
7.1: At this point, it is revealed that this story has been driven by–no joke–lost pirate treasure that can only be found by zombies. Seriously. Zombie pirate treasure. That’s what this is about. Pages upon pages of standing around, washing stuffed penguins, making coffee, identifying guns, and it’s all been going on while we could’ve had what is essentially the plot of a Monkey Island game.
There isn’t a word for the level of frustration I’m feeling right now.
7.4: Anita refers here to the “hornless goat” in the context of a voodoo ritual. In previous issues, this has been referred to exclusively as a “white goat.” Now I might be the only one to notice this–I certainly don’t expect anybody else to read these things four or five times–but come on: If you can’t keep your kooky made-up terms for human sacrifice straight, why the heck should I?
11.1-11.2: You know, there’s been a lot of this book devoted to Anita waking up and getting out of bed.
One assumes that by having Anita constantly waking up to bad news–last time zombies, this time… a phone call, though admittedly an omnious one–the author is trying to set up a recurring theme, although it’s more likely that chucking in a few panels of Anita sleeping is just the most efficient way of showing her literally doing nothing, as opposed to the countless scenes where it only seems like she’s lost consciousness.
Yep: Shit on a roll. Exactly what I was thinking.
15.5: Whoa! That seems a little uncalled for!
Yes, Anita and Merloni the CSI spend the next five pages trying to gross each other out by throwing chunks of mutliated suburbanites–you know, evidence–at each other in what comes as close as we’re likely to get to conflict…
20.3: …and Anita decides to vent her frustrations by throwing around racial slurs:
Yeah. And you know who else turned his frustrations to racism? That’s right: Adolf Hitler.
I think you see where I’m going with this.