Invincible.

In what seems to be a bit of audacious casting, Robert Downey Jr. has been cast as industrialist inventor Tony Stark in the upcoming Iron Man movie. Casting an ex-everything-addict as the alcoholic Iron Man is either extremely brilliant or extremely risky. I just hope they put cold tea in the decanters and not real whisky. Downey is a great actor, though. That's if they mention the alcoholism at all in the flick. I've got high hopes for this film: It's the first one Marvel have funded themselves, and it's directed by Jon Favreau, who has previous-he played Foggy Nelson in Daredevil. I've been let down before, though.

Totally unrelated: In the comments for my last post, there was atiny debate concerning Sir Roger Moore's talents and suitability in the role of James Bond 007. I will conclusively prove that Connery was best. Watch his "gunbarrel" sequence from Diamonds Are Forever:



Now watch Moore from Moonraker:



Point proved.

How was your weekend, Mick?

I had a fairly eventful weekend, thanks for asking. I've been on the brink of death since Friday, when I had to leave work because of the debilitating illness known as 'manflu'. Standing in the pissing rain for what seemed like years whilst waiting for my youngest daughter to get out of her school didn't aid my recovery, either.
It was also my eldest daughter's thirteenth birthday last week, so, as a treat, I took her to Villa Park to watch us stuff Charlton Pathetic two-nil. On the way, a nasty soap-dodging bluenose bastard called us 'scum', probably because we were wearing claret and blue paraphernalia, which was lovely of him. The fucking germ. This was kind of balanced out about five minutes later when a bunch of Special Brew chugging paraffin lamps shouted 'Up The Villa!' at us. Oh, the joys of Birmingham city centre on matchdays!
At the match itself, something remarkable happened. As I'd gone to the match with my good friend Pete, there was beer drinking involved (well, I was poorly and had climbed up about six thousand, four hundred and seventy-eight stairs to get to the section of the ground we were sitting at, so I needed refreshment!) so at half-time my bladder was about the size of a baby elephant. So I went to relieve myself. I was so full of urine my usual shy-bladder syndrome was disabled; Sing Hosanna! I could piss freely at the urinal! Whilst I was there, a man (well it was the Gents') was making really wet noises. My curiousity was piqued. I had to look. This man had a penis at least twice the length of mine ( so it must've been at least 20" long!) and instead of shaking it like the rest of us, he was spin drying his with a kind of helicopter-type motion. It was like he was trying to throw a grapple hook. But it was the sound that got me, it was like the wet, slapping noises a fish might make if it's flying against a wall. Anyway, that's enough talking about a stranger's penis.
Another weird thing happened on the evening. Another friend of mine whose Birthday it is soon tried to tell me Moonraker was the best Bond movie! I had to verbally slap him down. That film has a pigeon doing a double-take in it! For fuck's sake.

Bad Religion.

I kind of liked the old pope. When I lived there, there used to be a picture of him on the landing at my Nan and Grandad's house.(My Grandad's Irish, he was brainwashed by nuns long before he got to England.) He was smiling at you with his finger up, like he was blessing you for putting the immersion on. (Downstairs, my Nan was cursing you for putting on the water heater, as it cost her money, and she could never understand why people need to be warm when they're having a bath.)
That Pope, after what seemed the longest serious illness ever suffered by anyone ever (thanks, God!) died and regenerated into Pope Ratzinger the 42nd, or something. The Vatican, in its infinite wisdom, replaced the old Pope with someone older, which is always a bad idea. Like when Roger Moore replaced Connery as 007. This Pope has said a silly thing which has upset people. I mean, before, he was just a nice, straightfoward, ultra-conservative homophobic ex-Nazi in a dress, but now he said all wars are unholy, I've gone off him.
Now, if you want to make the point that there is no such thing as a holy war, Jihad or whatever because all wars are evil, fine. Just don't accuse all Muslims as being evil and violent at the same time. And If I was a Muslim, how would I react to such a slur? Just ignoring the old fool? Or proving him right by setting churches on fire and shooting nuns dead? The Pope now will need that bulletproof Popemobile (there's faith for you!) and him saying sorry has put paid to the notion of Papal infallibility.
I'm not saying religion is a bad thing. Well, I am, but it can have good things to offer. Just not to me. When my afore-mentioned Grandad nearly died earlier this year, he kept his little crucifix with him at all times. My Nan praying for him every night helped her cope with the ordeal. Highly religious people such as Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa, and Desmond Tutu have actually made the world a better place whilst the totally godless regimes of Hitler, Stalin and Pol Pot led to the deaths of millions.
The Muslims I know and work with are nothing like the idiots I see on the telly most nights. There must be more moderates than extremists. It's time they spoke up and took the Koran back from the headcases. Saying the Pope is the AntiChrist and burning effigies of him just turns you into Ian Paisley, and you don't want that! Christians need to sort their own headcases out as well, and sit down and find common ground, because there's plenty. They both hate homosexuals, contraception and abortion, freedom of choice and the Jewish! I mean, that's something to start with!
Let's stop using a mythical God as an excuse for good or bad behaviour. I mean, every time there's a horrible disaster, someone asks 'how can god let this happen?' and we're told we can't understand what His plan is; yet when it comes to sexual intercourse, we're told exactly what God thinks!It's up to us normal human beings to behave ourselves and treat each other with respect. It's also about time Songs Of Praise and Cliff Richard packed it all in, as well!

Does This Look Septic?

Hi again. This is a piece of art I've done to advertise a comic I've not even drawn yet as the script isn't finished!
It's for the long-gestating Septic Isle book. As it's about a superspy coming out of retirement to battle with a white supremacist. I've gone for a 007-esque vibe, with the tattered Union flag symbolising a fucked-up Great Britain. Andy Winter, who writes and publishes these books for Moonface Press (check the link in the sidebar!) is getting a lot of interest in his books and is now republishing the older ones, and this ad will appear in the forthcoming re-release of Blood Psi , featuring the awesome art of my old mucker Keith ('Keet') Burns.

Reasons I Love Comics (issue#7):Kneel Before Neal!

At the end of what is now known as 'The Silver Age', Marvel had come from virtually nowhere to becoming undisputed market leaders. They had the most popular artists- Kirby, Colan, Ditko and Steranko. DC needed their own superstar to battle with Marvel's artistic hegemony. They found one in Neal Adams.
Marvel's artists approach to superhero art was exaggeration and larger-than-life depictions of action and anatomy. Adams' approach was different, almost the opposite. His work treated the fantasy worlds of the superheroes in a realistic way. Adams has fantastic command of anatomy, and this mixed with his photographic realism made the superhero world visually believable. Adams is responsible for the definitive versions of many of DC's superheroes: First on Deadman, then on to Green Lantern/Green Arrow and then his unsurpassed work on Batman.
Adams was also a master of expression, his characters actually looked like they were saying what the scriptwriter wanted them to say. His heroes had a grace to them, their movements had a kind of flow to them. His style led to a change in the kind of stories that could be told in comics, more dramatic, emotional and topical stories were now achievable, especially in the stories he did with Denny O'Neill in Batman and Green Lantern/Green Arrow . Also worthy of a mention is the short run he did with Roy Thomas on Uncanny X-Men just before that title was cancelled. Adams' page composition was outstanding also: his page layouts and panel sequences are up there with Steranko's.
He was years ahead of his time and a direct influence on most of today's different styles of modern comic book art. Adams influenced and is still influencing generations of artists, as he was one of the first to realise the potential of the comics medium.

It's coming...

The release of the Midlands Comics Collective's ( which I'm a part of) anthology book MC2 is getting ever nearer. Because it is being published through Knockabout Press and distributed through Diamond, you can now pre-order it at lots of comics websites. Please do. It has my magnum opus Never Strikes Twice within its luxury glossy pages, as well as many other great tales (not so good! Only kidding![You don't know who's reading this shit!]) from other Brum-based artists and writers including seasoned pros Hunt Emerson, John McCrea and IMAF award winers Asia Alfasi and Michiru Morikawa. Plus plenty of other non-award winning artists!

You can order it at Forbidden Planet for the weird price of £5.03!
If you're American, you can order it at Wizard Universe .
I first saw the book onTFAW , and if you're of a Teutonic origin you can get it atKauft Comics .

With the book at the printers now, and all artistic work complete, we're trying to publicise the thing. Now I've told you five about it on this blog, my work is done!
Not really. We're launching it with an exhibition and a boozy do at the Custard factory here in Birmingham in November. We will subsequently re-launch it at the Birmingham International Comics Show in December and at the Expo in Bristol next May. We're also trying to get some kind of signing event at the legendary 'Nostalgia And Comics' store, also here in Brum, and we will soon be on BBC 2, shamelessly plugging the thing.
Now that was weird. Once a month, the members of MC2 meet, usually at the aforementioned Custard factory, as one of us works there and it costs us nothing. One of our group, Asia Alfasi, is attracting quite a bit of attention. Her stuff is manga-influenced, I suppose, which is popular in itself, but the fact that she is a woman cartoonist, which is rare enough, and a Muslim woman cartoonist to boot, which probably puts her in a field of about one. Anyway, as I said, her work is getting her a lot of attention. She has big publishers vying for her work. She has BBC2 filming her.
The director thought it would be a good idea to film Asia at our meeting, but BBC lady turns up late, so we had to pretend to have the meeting again and keep saying the same shit over and over, because the light wasn't right. Hunt Emerson must have told us the book was out in November about twenty times in a row.I don't know when it's on, but I'll let you five know when I do, so you can watch me rub my beard and nod sagely in the background, trying to pinch some of Asia's limelight!

Blasted Heath.

Apparently, fanboys who weren't already up in arms about the casting of Heath Ledger as the Joker in The Dark Knight are now moaning because he said "I actually hate comic book movies, like fucking hate them, they just bore me shitless and they’re just dumb." Ledger goes on to say how brilliant Batman Begins was, and that was the reason he signed on for the sequel.
What these fanboys don't like about Ledger, judging from the message board comments I've seen, is that they think he's gay. He's not. He played a gay character. It's called acting. And if playing a gay character disqualifies you from playing any character in the next Batman film, why don't we also get rid of Christian Bale, Gary Oldman and Michael Caine, who have all played gay men in the past. And didn't Frank Miller portray the Joker as gay in The Dark Knight Returns? (Well, that's the impression I got!)
I think we should give Ledger a chance, as he is a good actor, an interesting choice, and judging by Batman Begins, Christopher Nolan knows what he's doing. There's a similar uproar with Daniel Craig's casting as 007, but apparently he is excellent in Casino Royale. I hope so, because there's nothing better than a unreasonably upset fanboy being shown up.
My second point is, for the most part, I agree with Heath. Most comic book films are fucking dumb. The amount of times I've been genuinely excited about a comic-book film only to be disappointed considerably is ridiculous; I mean, just off the top of my head I can think of:
Howard The Duck, Fantastic Four, Elektra, Batman Forever, Batman and Robin, From Hell, Constantine, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, X Men:The Last Stand, Steel, Hulk, Swamp Thing (and its sequel), Judge Dredd, Superman III & IV, Supergirl, Catwoman, and Nick Fury (Which had David Fucking Hasselhoff as Col. Fury!)
I'm sure there are a myriad more I've forgotten about, or more likely, blanked from my memory, but the best comic-based films are the ones that stay truest to their source material and are good films in their own right as well as being good comic book films: X Men 2, Superman: The Movie, Batman Begins, Spiderman 1&2, and Sin City are amongst the better adaptations. Why does Hollywood need to fuck about so much with the source material?
I've just realised I'm a hypocrite. I go off on one complaining about upset fanboys then I myself rant on about Hollywood adaptations! I know the original comics are still there, and if I need the goods, I can read them, but , generally, the public's perception of these books is based on what they've seen on screen, and, for the most part, they will come away nonplussed. Why can't the major publishers realise that crappy adaptations of their comicbooks will eventually damage sales? Why can't they insist their property is treated with respect?

Star Trekkers, Inc.

Check this link out. It's a fan video for Nine Inch Nails' Closer, made with old Star Trek clips, and it's brilliant. Much better than Mark Romanek's load of old pretentious wankiness. (Guess what the phrase of the day is today, folks!) It takes what was subtext and makes it simply text.
I tried to embed it, but the waste of plastic and glass that pretends to be my computer won't have it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PwpcUawjK0&eurl=

Ignore the prententious wankiness.

My family and I had a look around some of the ArtsFest today. There are events scattered all around Brum, but we had a shufty at the main venues, Chamberlain Square and Centenary Square. Usually, I'm not overly fond of Arts Festivals as they tend to be attended by beard bearing, sandal wearing new age types....And that's just the women! (Insert sound of rimshot here!) but today was a nice day, the festival is well organised, and everybody seemed to be having a good time. There was a bit of prententious wankiness, but you expect that kind of shite at these things.
I visited the Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery stand, mainly to see the finished results of my weeks of labour on the leaflets they were giving kids to desecrate with their crayons and felt tips. They've also used some of my images on glossier flyers (see top image) which look ace, and have 'Artwork (c) Mick Trimble' printed on the back, which kinda makes me feel important in some small way. The bottom picture is me at the stall with Lydia Miller, who's running the whole 'ArtsChampions' shebang. Note the blown up pictures of mine used to decorate the stand! There were a few kids there who seemed to like the strip, and were ruining colouring it in, and not running away screaming, like children usually do when they see my work.
So generally, I'm quite pleased, that IS a smile on my face. Kind of. Also, Lydia and I were standing right next to each other. Isn't she little?

Children Of The Damned.

I'm totally knackered. A weekend of almost constant drinking has disrupted my sleep routine and turned my liver to foie gras. I attended an in-law's 'end of summer' party on Saturday, which was attended mostly by what would be my number one of things to put in Room 101- Posh Children. I think this is related directly to Emu's Pink Windmill Show, where a bunch of posh kids would jump around like a bunch of hyperactive spaniels and sing 'There's somebody at the door!" repeatedly every time some desperately-needs-the-work actor rang the doorbell. I always wanted Grotbags to win, because she reminded me of my Nan, only my Grandmother isn't bright green, nor does she hang around with a crocodile. (On a related note: RIP Steve Irwin. You should've wore sunscreen, mate. It protects you from harmful rays.) No, the posh kids won. Also, I attended an all-boys' Grammar school, whilst being obviously working class, which developed in me a kind of inverse snobbery. If anybody 'talks nice', generally, I'll hate them straight away. So. I don't like 'posh' kids. They still call their mothers 'Mummy' when they're teenagers. They go to auditions. They like school. They play recorders.They have lisps and can't say the letter 'R' and have horses instead of bikes.
So, anyway, we turn up at this family party, and as soon as I've got rid of my coat (it was pissing it down), I'm off to the kitchen, as usual, to grab myself a beer when these strange 11-year-old girls start talking to me, whilst I'm rummaging around for a bottle opener.
"Oh, helloooo," says one particularly precious girl "You talk funnily, are you Australian?" She makes it sound as if being antipodean is worse than being a sex case.
"No, I'm from Birmingham, from Stechford, just up the road."
"Ohhh, so you're a 'Brummay' " The last word being an affected accent. Imagine that, a real live Brummie in Birmingham! How quaint!
GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, the rest of the weekend was better, but tiring, and it seems I spoke too soon about finishing the ArtsFest project. I must've had to re-letter the thing about eleventy times. They want the council logo bigger, they don't want it there, replace 'Birmingham Museum & Art Gallery' with just 'BM&AG' and back again. But, it IS finished now, and they like it that much they're replacing the designs on the glossy ArtsFest brochure with images from the strip. Which is nice. They've also asked me to join the Council Arts Dept.'s Artists database. And I finally got paid for some work I did for John McCrea, so all in all, I'm quite pleased with myself tonight. Watch some fucker spoil it tomorrow. Some fucker with an RP accent.

Can't stand me now.

The Arts Champion art is now finished. The initial artwork was finished last week, but they kept asking for little changes (like changing the title from Arts Champion to ArtsChampions! which seems stupid in context as there are only one of him) and asking for more artwork for the interior (see above) but for no extra money as it's an 'Arts' project, and therefore it has a miniscule budget.
So, I can now use the computer for messing about again. I had another go at that face recognition/celebrity lookalike thing I've seen on a few other blogs. I've used at least four different pictures, and it keeps coming up with the same result: Pete Fucking Doherty. He's got the same colour hair as me! That's all! He's probably only weighs about eight stone wringing wet! I'm at least two-stone overweight. I wear glasses, he doesn't. He has an up-and-down relationship with a stroppy cow, and I...err...well, you get the idea.
What is it with Kate Moss anyway? Too skinny, no chest or arse to speak of, yet she's considered beautiful. Not by me. Although, I might have a chance with her seeing as I look so much like Pete Doherty. Me having a chance with anyone increases their attractiveness to me!
So anyway, in summary, I've finished drawing and I'm not posting any links to that celeb lookalike shit.