Savage Nobles in the Land of Enchantment

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    Theo’s Tattoos: Bismillah

    September 1st, 2010 | by Everett

    On his inner left bicep, Theo has a tattoo of the “Bismillah” or “Basmala,” which is a word for the phrase “bismi-llāhi r-raḥmāni r-raḥīm,” which in Arabic means “In the Name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful.” Any actual readers of Arabic, please forgive my unintelligible squiggles. Their accuracy ranges from “Trying and Failing” to “Not Even Really Trying.”

    The Bismillah is found at the beginning of (almost) every sura of the Q’uran, as well in the preambles to a lot of Islamic constitutions, and in many other places. In a much less flattering context, this was the way Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmedinejad began his speech when he spoke at my alma matter, Columbia University. So clearly, it’s a pretty versatile phrase.

    As with Judaism, tattoos are actually forbidden in Islam, though I’ve had a little trouble discerning exactly why – most explanations, however, feature the argument that tattooing alters God’s perfect design of the human body. Sometimes I imagine that Theo would get a tattoo not at the height of his experimentation with a particular faith, but at the end of it, as a sort of fare-well commemoration.

    └ Tags: tattoos
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    Everett at Portland Zine Symposium This Weekend

    August 27th, 2010 | by Everett

    Just a personal update: this weekend I will be tabling at the Portland Zine Symposium in PSU’s Peter W. Scott Main Gym. If you are in Portland, OR (and honestly, why aren’t you?), stop by and pick up one of the three zines I will have for sale at $1 each:

    Wakey-Wakey is a short anthology of various comics and illustrations I’ve done, most of them while I was interning at Periscope Studio, and some of it previously published in Stumptown Underground. There is nothing in this zine you haven’t already seen on my sketch blog.

    The Savage Nobles Preview Zine includes pages 26 through 51 of the comic you are reading right now. (That’s right, if you buy it this weekend you’ll be able to see page 51 a full two days before it hits this site!) This is mainly intended to serve as a “gateway drug” for the website. At 5.5×8.5″, it’s a little smaller than I’d like to publish it eventually, but it still looks durned good in print if I d.s.s.m.

    Flight of the Flightless is the 24-Hour Comic I drew in (one day of) April of this year. It’s based on a true story as comically reimagined by me and my ex-roommate Turhan Sarwar about evacuating the penguins from the New Orleans Aquarium after Hurricane Katrina. (yes, a comedy about Hurricane Katrina – it’s about time!) It’s got cute animals, madcap action, and has a super-happy ending with a wedding and a rainbow; it will one day make me a millionaire and relaunch Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s career.

    See y’all at the Symposium!

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    White Sands Missile Range

    August 11th, 2010 | by Everett

    Lest you think this immense desert “missile range,” located a short car-chase outside Las Cruces, NM is a convenient fictional concoction of mine, let me assure you that not only is it real, it is the largest military installation in the country (3,200 square miles!), as well as the site of planet Earth’s first ever nuclear explosion. I’ve driven through it myself!

    (The sign reads “You Are Now Leaving White Sands Missile Range; Drive Carefully.” I think it’s a very odd statement.)

    By an amazing coincidence, the previous occupant of the room in which I am now living is a native of Las Cruces, Mark Smith. He and two of my other housemates went to college in Santa Fe. Mark tells me that, because Las Cruces is a dull town with very little to do (unfortunately, “Molotov Latte” is not a real place), the primary recreation for young troublemakers is to drive out into the desert to listen to music and drink beer. The home-grown Las Crucians apparently know the unlabeled back-country roads well enough to navigate them in the dark.

    I hasten to add:

    OUR PROTAGONISTS DO NOT!

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    Theo’s Tattoos: Four-letter Word

    August 2nd, 2010 | by Everett

    Now and then I will post short entries about Theo’s tattoos – not the scholarly treatment they deserve, just a little background information. Because the tattoos have to be roughly the same every time I draw them, and on roughly the same part of the body, I had to plan them out fairly carefully – though if it had occurred to me at the outset how many times I’d have to draw them, I would have planned them even more carefully. My friend Ben Bates, who draws Sonic the Hedgehog for Archie comics (among with many other things) and who has one of the keenest minds for character design I’ve ever come across, says that having a character covered in tattoos who spends most of the comic shirtless is already in itself a horrible idea. I totally agree, but unfortunately for me and my right hand, it’s also crucial to the plot.

    On the underside of Theo’s left forearm is the instantly recognizable Tetragrammaton. No, that’s not some kind of giant Japanese robo-warrior, it’s the Hebrew four-letter name for God. Because this word is all consonants, with the vowels varying or implicit, there’s a lot of confusion as to how it ought to be pronounced. But this isn’t actually a problem, since to Jews “The Name” is actually too sacred to be pronounced, except perhaps by one person in one particular place, once, on one particular day of the year… and even that, not so much lately. Needless to say, getting this tattooed on your arm is probably pretty risque, if not downright offensive, since Judaism does not generally allow tattoos of any sort in the first place.

    It’s possible, however, that Theo got the tattoo when he was a Christian. After all, the Christians use many of the same texts – whenever you see the phrase “the LORD” in all capitals in an English-language bible, it often holds the place of the tetragrammaton (although the frequent Hebrew euphemism “Adonai” is also translated as “Lord”). This brings me to an Interesting Personal Anecdote:

    I’m thrilled to be singing in the 13th Annual William Byrd Festival with the early music choir Cantores in Ecclesia. At one service we will be chanting Psalm 68, which contains the line “magnify him that rideth upon the heavens as it were upon an horse; praise him in his Name, JAH, and rejoice before him.” Here, “Jah” is a shortened, two-letter version of the Name (incidentally, a root of the word “Hallelujah,” and name of God used by Rastafarians). This is the only instance of the name “Jah” in the entire King James Bible. For some unfathomable reason, it was translated as “JAH” just this one time. Unsurprisingly, we singers are baffled as to how to pronounce it.

    └ Tags: tattoos
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    On Smarty-Pants Stories

    July 24th, 2010 | by Everett

    While my friend Dylan Meconis is at San Diego Comic-Con, I am taking care of her cats and dog. The first printed volume of Dylan’s excellent webcomic Family Man just came out, and I’ve gotta say, it works much better as a tactile book than a website. (Though the Family Man website, with it’s flaking pages and trompe l’oeil accessories is probably as close to being tactile as anything on the internet. She gave me great WordPress advice for this site, and maybe some day I will implement more of it.)

    I could write a whole list of reasons why Family Man is such a good comic (through-composed, novelistic scope; amazingly rigorous historical research; costume porn), but one reason stands out for me personally: it is an honest treatment of Characters Who Are Intellectuals. This is actually something I care a lot about. There are way, waaay too many stories out there about college professors, architects, classical composers, writers (oh, writers!), world-renowned anthropologists/violinists etc. etc. where the main thrust of the entire narrative seems to taunt “See? See? Beneath all his pretensions of intellectual superiority, he is just a regular shmoe like anyone else! In fact worse! He cheats on his wife and sleeps with his students and gets drunk and wakes up in the morning and looks at his own haggard, stubbly face in the metaphorical bathroom mirror!”

    As much fun as it might be to take this strawman out of the attic for a good whacking session now and then, it’s a tremendous missed opportunity. Intellectuals, as a class, have pretty unique and interesting internal lives of a specific sort not necessarily found in the middle- or working- class hero. When the protagonist is a scholar, when he lives in the realm of ideas, the writer has the chance to create a true novel of ideas, a work in which the characters and plot can serve as a playground (or battleground) for abstract theories or beliefs in a particularly raw, even allegorical, way. At the end of a great story-about-intellectuals, such as the movie Pi or the book Elizabeth Costello, we find ourselves worried less about what will actually happen to the character (will Max Cohen be captured by the Wall St. goons or the radical Hassids? will Elizabeth live long enough to reconcile with her family?) than by what direction their thoughts take (can Max’s capacious brain discern an underlying order to the universe? can Elizabeth’s atheism coexist with her belief in the positive existence of Evil?) Back to Family Man: though I’m somewhat interested to see which characters turn out to be werewolves, I’m on the edge of my seat waiting to see if Luther Levy fully accepts atheism or regains his religion.

    And this doesn’t necessarily have to be deadly serious. Without belaboring the topic too much longer, this relates to what I tried to do with “Apostrophobia,” my regular funny cartoon in the Columbia Spectator. Tired of the “college humor” whose basic joke was that, for all our academic pretensions, college students are basically lazy, indulgent, sex-crazed, alcoholic morons (the “VanWilder” school of comedy), I tried to invert the joke and show that the most hilarious thing about Columbia students was our very commitment to academia, that we voluntarily withdrew from contemporary society at large – and in many cases, from the contingent realm itself – to immerse ourselves in a universe of total abstraction. Engineers excepted.

    I recently found a passage where Slavoj Žižek stole my idea and expressed better:

    “[I]t is true that the space of the comic is the space between the dignified symbolic mask and the ridiculous vulgarity of ordinary life, with its petty passions and weaknesses; the properly comic procedure, however, is not simply to undermine the dignified mask (or task or sublime passion) through the intrusion of everyday reality, but enact a kind of structural short circuit or, rather, exchange of places between the two in which the very dignified mask/task/passion appears as a pathetic idiosyncrasy, an utterly human weakness.”

    By the way, with all this high-fallutin’ talk, I hope you still do care what happens to Kafir. By now it’s been revealed that the “government guys” who rented all the other rooms in the motel are in fact ICE police, and they’ve got Kafir’s personal hero, Ernesto Alvarez himself! Hopefully you caught the mentions of Ernesto on page 5, page 19, and/or page 27 so that his appearance isn’t completely out of the blue.

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    Under Thoreauvian Skies

    July 14th, 2010 | by Everett

    I’m glad that I could temper the uploading of what are probably the two mushiest pages of the book (for a very long while anyway) with the addition of a new Epigraph Page. This was not any sort of afterthought – I had always wanted some opening quotations floating over the desert to set the tone (though the selection of the quotes themselves went through several revisions. Some other time I may share my “alternate epigraphs”). However, I didn’t actually draw the epigraph page itself until this week. This is mainly because, at the time when I was beginning the comic in March of 2009, I was very eager to plunge right in with the story and the characters and didn’t feel like drawing a bunch of rocks and plants. All for the better – New Mexican landscapes deserve more than the generic triangular mountains I was still drawing back then.

    HDT

    Incidentally, Henry David Thoreau’s birthday was this past Monday. Even if I take a pretty ambivalent attitude to the guy, there’s no denying that Thoreau was interesting – particularly because so many disparate factions have claimed him as their proto-founder. The proto-founder of the comic you’re reading right now was a comedy screenplay prospectus my roommate and I wrote in the spring of 2007 about a bunch of wayward youth getting into trouble in Brooklyn’s Greenwood Cemetery. One of the characters (“Walden”) was very closely modeled on Thoreau.

    Thanks to Google Image Search for help with the above drawing!

    Not Very Thoreau

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    Into the Mild

    July 7th, 2010 | by Everett

    The “dude up in Alaska” referred to on page 28 is, of course, Christopher McCandless, a young man who went to Alaska in the early 90′s to have a full-immersion wilderness experience and indeed died of starvation. I read John Krakauer’s engrossing book on the subject, Into the Wild, in the fall of 2008, just as I was embarking on a wilderness adventure of my own.

    Everett by a Slot Canyon

    My road trip was much cushier than McCandless’s's; I frequently stayed in hostels or with friends, and I explored new cities as much as I did national parks, etc. No comparison really, but I did do some fairly hardcore solitary trekking, like in that Utah slot canyon pictured above. At the very least, I suspect I was driven by an itchy inclination similar to McsCansdleses’s (or to Theo’s), an inclination which will get explored in laborious depth over the next 100+ pages.

    Much more importantly, it was on this road trip that I discovered the enchanted land that is New Mexico, and when I began the first draft of the script for the comic you’re reading right now.

    Everett

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    “Motel,” by Alan Shaw

    June 26th, 2010 | by Everett

    While I was drawing the scenes that take place at the tacky “Ali-Inn,” verses of a poem kept drifting through my mind: “Motel” by my friend Alan Shaw. (I met Alan in 2006 while singing with New York City’s Renaissance Street Singers.) “Motel” is part of a series of poems about the various rusting and abandoned things visible on the roadsides of the American Southwest. Alan himself eventually set the poem to music, which I helped sing – try to imagine the corny parallel thirds and bobbing syncopation appropriate to the faux-Mexican subject matter, but mixed with some stringent pathos:

    Motel

    Rain streaks a burro made of plaster,
    And falls from the sombrero of his master.
    The red roof-tile and cactus mimic
    A sleepy town south of the border.
    What in its day was tawdry gimmick
    Gleams like the relics of a fading order.

    For his dry fantasy the owner
    Inherited the loser and the loner:
    Road salesmen who, like ancient traders,
    Sailed into any port they saw,
    Victims of leaky radiators,
    And many on the wrong side of the law.

    But now, abandoned to the rains,
    A luster to his enterprise remains,
    More than the coin it paid him in.
    The dust of his imagination
    Has run to mud; its fruits begin
    To brighten towards that sunny destination.

    Everett

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    Dancin’ Fools

    June 24th, 2010 | by Everett

    These panels of the band dancing around the motel room were really fun to draw. Still unschooled in the ways of computer-based drawing, I had to make sure the furniture lined up the same between panels using old fashioned geometry and a t-square. Pages 22 and 23 specifically were done last July, when a record-breaking BRUTAL HEATWAVE in Washington forced all of us farmers to work from sunup till lunch, take a six hour swimming/siesta break, and resume work from sundown until it was dark. Since the afternoons transformed my trailer into a broiling aluminum coffin of death, I would high-tail it over to the Carnation library, spread my art supplies annoyingly over the table, and draw in the comfort of state-funded air-conditioning until dusk – or until the zucchini started dying, whichever came first.

    104

    Thanks everybody for bumping up the numbers on my site – it’s been really heartening. I can’t wait to see what happens when I introduce a plot!

    Everett

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    Welcome to SNitLoE!

    June 19th, 2010 | by Everett

    I’m really excited to debut this site for my in-progess graphic novel, “Savage Nobles in the Land of Enchantment.” A big thanks to Erika Moen and the other folks at Periscope Studio who convinced me that I should put this online as I was working on it, instead of just waiting until it was finished, printing it, and selling it like some 20th-century hack.

    I began drawing “SNitLoE” in March of 2009, so all of the pages you see for the next several weeks were already drawn many months ago. During much of the past year, I was way too busy with work at Local Roots Farm and Periscope to produce more than a trickle of a few pages a month, but since I’m now dedicating myself to cartooning “full-time,” you can expect a much more robust output. Three pages a week, to be precise!

    Just to get you started, I’ve posted the first twenty pages in bulk. They’ll introduce you to the members of the band and take you from their show in Las Cruces, NM to a cheap motel on the outskirts of town. I’m pretty excited to post the next few scenes – setting the grounds for a really sharp turn in the story in about ten pages.

    Everett

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