2012 – Faerie realm reunites with our world across ley lines
All faerie tricks, green mist. Unlocking guardians.
Faeries fled to new world ahead of christianity, went into hiding before conquistadors & co got here. Tried to warn NA, only succeeded in getting Incas/Aztecs – Tie-in with Roanoake
Armies of the Fey – trick/trap/kidnap/transform humans at ley line points to bring over more of their world. Green mist/fawrie dust EMP powder, completely rendering tech inert, and, tehy have magic…
< brouge >
Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O’Leary’s apartment when Paddy Murphy loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen brother, the other five continue playing standing up.
Michael O’Connor looks around and asks, ‘Oh, me boys, someone got’s to tell Paddy’s wife. Who will it be?’
They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the short one. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don’t make a bad situation any worse.
‘Discreet??? I’m the most discreet Irishmen you’ll ever meet. Discretion is me middle name. Leave it to me.’
Gallagher goes over to Murphy’s house and knocks on the door. Mrs. Murphy answers, and asks what he wants.
Gallagher declares, ‘Your husband just lost $500, and is afraid to come home.’
‘Tell him to drop dead!’, says Murphy’s wife..
‘I’ll go tell him.’ says Gallagher.
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he’d just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut, and bruised, and he’s walking with a limp.
‘What happened to you?’ asks Sean, the bartender.
‘Micheal O’Connor and me had a fight,’ says Paddy.
‘That little O’Connor,’ says Sean, ‘He couldn’t do that to you, he must have had something in his hand.’
‘That he did,’ says Paddy, ‘a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin’ he gave me with it.’
‘Well,’ says Sean, ‘you should have defended yourself. Didn’t you have something in your hand?’
That I did,’ said Paddy, ‘Mrs. O’Connor’s breast, and a thing of beauty it was; but useless in a fight.’
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
An Irishman who had a little too much to drink is driving home from the city one night and, of course, his car is weaving violently all over the road.
A cop pulls him over. ‘So,’ says the cop to the driver, ‘where have ya been?’
‘Why, I’ve been to the pub of course,’ slurs the drunk.
‘Well,’ says the cop, ‘it looks like you’ve had quite a few to drink this evening.’
‘I did all right,’ the drunk says with a smile.
‘Did you know,’ says the cop, standing straight, and folding his arms across his chest, ‘that a few intersections back, your wife fell out of your car?’
‘Oh, thank heavens,’ sighs the drunk. ‘for a minute there, I thought I’d gone deaf.’
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
Mary Clancy goes up to Father O’Grady after his Sunday morning service, and she’s in tears.
He says, ‘So what’s bothering you, Mary my dear?’
She says, ‘Oh, Father, I’ve got terrible news. My husband passed away last night.’
The priest says, ‘Oh, Mary, that’s terrible. Tell me, Mary, did he have any last requests?’
She says, ‘That he did, Father.’
The priest says, ‘What did he ask, Mary?’
She says, ‘He said, Please Mary, put down that damn gun….’
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
A drunk staggers into a Catholic Church, enters a confessional booth, sits down, but says nothing.
The Priest coughs a few times to get his attention, but the drunk continues to sit there.
Finally, the Priest pounds three times on the wall.
The drunk mumbles, ‘Ain’t no use knockin, there’s no paper on this side either.
< / brouge >
MASTER CLASS SERIES IN COMICS WRITING
3 sessions, TUESDAYS, March 16 & 23; April 13, 6:30-8:30 pm
*March 16: CHRIS CLAREMONT
*March 23: TOM DeFALCO
*April 13: DENNIS O’NEIL
Series Cost: $100 | $90 for MoCCA members
Individual sessions: $40 | $35 for MoCCA members
CHRIS CLAREMONT, TOM DeFALCO, and DENNIS O’NEIL will each hold a master class session in comics writing. These three extraordinarily accomplished writers have written some of the highest profile and most acclaimed comics of all time, with bodies of work that have played significant parts in defining the modern versions of The X-Men (Claremont), Spider-Man (DeFalco), and Batman (O’Neil). Each of them will condense the most important things they know about writing into highly-concentrated (and entertaining!) lecture form. This is a rare opportunity to hear these top names in the field speak about what makes for great comics writing.
CHRIS CLAREMONT has encountered more success than most writers ever dream of. Best known for his work on Marvel Comics’ X-Men, he has written other seminal characters such as Batman and Superman, originated several creator-owned series, is published throughout the world in many languages, and has authored nine novels. His unbroken 17-year run on Uncanny X-men is the stuff of industry legend. The story arc “Dark Phoenix,” with its radical treatment of its central character, paved the way for the reinterpretation of superhero mythos. Current projects include the ongoing Marvel series X-Men Forever, X-Women, drawn by renowned Italian artist Milo Manara, the young adult novel Wild Blood, a contemporary urban dark fantasy, and the screen play Hunter’s Moon.
TOM DeFALCO, a former editor-in-chief of Marvel Comics with over thirty books currently in print, has written comic books, graphic novels, short stories, prose novels and books like Spider-Man: The Ultimate Guide and Comic Creators on Fantastic Four. He was also a major contributor to The Marvel Encyclopedia and The Marvel Chronology. DeFalco has recently worked on Star Wars: The Clone Wars for Titan Comics, The Man From RIVERDALE for Archie Comics, Flash Gordon for Ardden Entertainment, The Flying Fool for Moonstone Books, The Super Seven for Stan Lee Comics and, of course, The Spectacular Spider-Girl for Marvel Comics.
DENNIS O’NEIL is an award-winning comics writer and editor (best known for his landmark work on characters such as Batman and Green Lantern), and an educator at institutions including New York University and The School of Visual Arts. He has also been a journalist, critic, television writer, best-selling novelist (novelizations of The Dark Knight film and the epic Batman: Knightfall comics storyline, and the original novel Green Lantern: Hero’s Quest), and has published dozens of short stories. He lives in Nyack, N.Y. with his wife, Marifran.
I got to talking to one of my friends this week en route back from my brother’s birthday celebration about passions. I have long wondered when or if depression would rear its head at me – I finished IT this week, with all its roller-coaster effects, and realized some things about myself.
Part of how I hold depression at bay is through play and storytelling. The times when I get the most maudalin are the times when I can’t tell stories, or, worse, they rot in my head without me getting them out. There are a lot in there, great festering corpses of tales that have to be circumnavigated around in the still of the night or the glow of the morning, for fear that treading too near will leave their unmistakeable scent on a day.
Passions are funny things – they fuel us, they keep us going, in my case, they keep me ahead of real or percieved weights racing just behind me.
Ignore them, and they burn you up from within – follow them, and they make you feel alive.
It is when you acknowledge passions but do not act on them (for time or energy) that I am jousting with these days. Perhaps because of professional disatisfaction, perhaps because, seven (a powerful number) years after I figured I’d be dead, I have a load of freinds, and a great life, but I still haven’t amounted to much, and probably won’t outside of a very specific and small hemisphere.
I’m okay with that – I just need to keep the innerspace moving. If that stagnates, I’m screwed.
