We3

Time I blogged on something else, I think - not had the time or the inclination the last week, but it's time to get things moving once more, so I thought I'd share with you a cool graphic novel I had to treat myself to when it came into the Planet: We3 by Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely.

It's a curious mixture of one of those Incredible Journey-type movies Disney used to make of brave animals crossing the Rockies to get home to little Rusty, military-industrial complex conspiracy and cybertech. A dog, cat and rabbit have been used as the core of an advanced weapons system for a secret military project.

Leaving aside the dubious morality of experimenting on animals to begin with this is even worse because the animals are not labd animals but had been family pets - we see Have You Seen? posters for each of them throughout the book. Encased in their robotic armour (which has distinct Manga overtones) the poor animals have been trained to operate the massive inbuilt weapons.

They have also been trained to talk a broken and simple English and the scene where the dog kills soldiers sent to 'decomission' them is incredibly touching; he reacts with his training and wipes them out, then looks at them and mutters 'bad dog, bad dog'... The cat is a little more pragmatic - he is the point man and the design team are more than a little worried about what the cat will do when they try to shut it down.



After escaping the three of them try to find a place they barely remember, a place they called home once upon a time. Yes, I know, it sounds like it could be a bit syrupy and in other hands it may have been, but Grant Morisson is one of the top comics writers around and the Glaswegian writer isn't known for giving you something predictable (have you read the Invisibles???), while Frank Quitely's artwork here is top notch. James Lovegrove, author of the excellent Untied Kingdom and Worldstorm picked it as one of his favourite graphic novels in a feature for the new FPI website I am working on (you can see his mini review on the bottom of the page on the site).

Thanks

It's been an emotionally tough and draining week. I'm still upset at us losing Zag but poor Melanie is taking it far harder; as he lived with her she's constantly reminded of his absence. We've both had the irrational guilt thing as well - you know, where you realise intelectually that something isn't your fault but emotionally you feel the guilt.

For several days I kept thinking on when he was only about two and climbed out of the kitchen window in our student flat. I realised he was going to go so far down the pipes and then get stuck, so I came out into the garden and just stood there for twenty minutes until eventually he fell off and plumetted groundward. I caught him safely in my arms. He looked up at me with a sort of 'I had it all under control, you know' look then bounded happily away. And last week I kept thinking I wasn't there this time to reach out and save him. Stupid, irrational, but then feelings aren't rational, are they?

Poor Mel has it worse, convinced it was all her fault when the truth is she gave him a happy little life and of course it wasn't her fault, it was just one of those awful accidents that happen. I've been round at her place every night for the last week, keeping her company and playing with little Dizzy, Zag's wee sister (who is a little cutey - she seemed to stop growing around the age of 2 and still looks quite kittenish). Perhaps when we get the wee guy's ashes back from the vet she'll be able to get a little more closure, but for now its a tender wound and it makes me very worried for her. Anyway, much thanks to all of you who posted such kind sentiments, I really appreciated them.

Zag

I had a terrible call yesterday from my dear chum Melanie who was in tears. Her neighbours had just called her at work to tell her that Zag, her gorgeous cat, had been hit and killed by a car which didn't even stop. Way back when I was a student and we both shared a flat we got Zag as a tiny kitten, then just under a year later we got his sisters Dizzy. Melanie has always retained custody but I still get to play with the cats - they're like my estranged cats and I get visiting rights, take them to the zoo at the weekend, that sort of thing.

12 years we've had Zag. So you can imagine I was extremely upset; Melanie, of course, is understandably disraught. Zag is the most fabulous cat (excuse the grammar, but I'm not ready to think of our lovely little furry chum in the past tense yet) - the most wonderfully friendly little individual. He would go up to anyone and charm even those who profess not to be animal friendly. Many of Melanie's neighbours knew him because he would come up to them and 'chat' away. In fact he was so liked that it was the neighbours who saw what happened and came out to help him while the motorist just sped on to whatever mundane appointment was more important in their empty existence than Zag's life.

Back in the student flat 12 years ago Zag would follow us to the shops, wait outside then walk us back, 'talking' to us all the time. He even followed us to the pub and on one occassion in the summer when the doors were open he followed us right in - naturally he charmed the barmaids and received lots of attention and adoration which he soaked up. He would leap out of the hedge at the top of our street when I would cycle home from college and run alongside with me, or sometimes leap up onto the pannier and ride the street with me. How he knew what time I would be home I don't know - I never recall him owning a wristwatch, but he knew.

When Melanie moved into her own place with Zag and Dizzy he'd still meet me in the street when I went round. Going round to Melanie as soon as I finished work yesterday I still half expected him to leap out of the nearby gardens and walk me to the door. And then I realise that he's never, ever going to do that again and it breaks me up. I look at this street and I think on the wee soul being left there on the road by some evil bastard who didn't even stop. They don't care about the fact they killed a beautiful, innocent creature and they don't know or care about all the heartache they've caused, about the hole they've left in our lives. To lose anyone you love and care for, human or animal (and if you are the sort of person who thinks its stupid to grieve over an animal then you're a compasionless fool and to hell with you), but to have them brutally taken from you is even worse.

But he has 12 years of being utterly adored, his warm, white tummy fur tickled whenever he wanted. He was a real cat-about-town - he loved getting out and about. He patrolled the neighbourhood, charming everyone and conning several dinners a day and many tummy tickles in many homes before returing to Melanie's. I'm finding it really difficult to accept that such a lovely, lively little guy is gone. I know in time Mel and I will be able to think about him with a warm smile, remembering his antics (he looked like and acted like the Bacardi Breezer cat) but right now its far too raw and every time we think about him we both end up blubbing (and again if you're the sort of person who disparages folk who get emotionally attached to animals, I don't want to hear about it. I don't discriminate when anyone's in my heart, friend, family, partner or pussycat and after twelve years Zag is friend and family).

I was playing with him and Dizzy just a few days ago on the holiday Monday and took pics of both of them, which I emailed to Mel who was delighted. Bitterly she let me know how happy she was with some of the pics of them both just a day or two before this happened; one day we were happy then life crashes around you. I know that's life and it happens all the time, but that doesn't mean we have to like it.

And to the evil bastard who drove their car too fast down a quiet street lined with cars and didn't even stop, didn't even have the guts to take responsibility for their thoughtless actions - you know who you are; you drove right through Polwarth in Edinburgh and hit our beautiful, friendly cat who we'd loved since he was a kitten who could fit on your hand. You broke our hearts and you don't even care, you drove on and left him lying in the street you evil, bastard.

He brought so much happiness and warmth and delight to us and it hurts us to be without him. But the only way not to be hurt by events like this is never to form emotional attachments to animals, friends, family - and what sort of life would that be? It hurts and I want him back, but that's not going to happen, but through the hurt I'm also happy to have had him in our lives. He was loved and adored and he made us so happy - that's something that's worth the hurt of loss and that's what we need to remember.



I took this just a few days ago and it breaks my heart to think they will be the last pictures I ever get to take of him.

New site

I've been very, very busy working on the new graphic novel web site for FPI of late along with my colleagues. You can imagine the amount of entries in there and obviously there are always new titles to be added from publisher large and small (and nice to be able to add on the books from the smaller presses) - its a lot of stuff, but its also fun, especially as the new site has more flexibility. I'll explore more of that as I go on, but already we've added on some top ten favourites lists by some staff, friends and some writers, some with reviews (and we can add reviews to the entries individually too, which is good), with more to come.

Still a lot of work to do, adding more features and sorting out the older entries to the new standards and obviously it will always be a kind of work-in-progress because I'm going to be adding to it all the time. Still there it is live at last and it is kind of satisfying to be able to see it up there now, gives that nice feeling that you've really got something solid done. Of course, me being me I also keep coming across far too many titles that I want to read! But that's not a bad thing, is it?

Millions on the March

It's very kind of Bob Geldof to invite a million people to come to a place he doesn't even live in on the spur of the moment. Don't get me wrong - I'm all for protest (gee, you'd never guess from this site, would you?) and all for supporting the aims he and others are promoting. But since Edinburgh is a relatively small city I do have to wonder where exactly he thinks a million folk could actually go in the city? Where will they stay? There isn't any one space large enough for them and that's the simple truth.

The city's population doubles to about a million during the Festival, but this is over several weeks and most of the folk coming for that period book in advance and have digs arranged. I'd like to see a good turn out of folks, but a million folk flooding into the city at short notice is just plain stupid and its rather irresponsible of Geldof and shows bugger all respect for the folk who actually live here. Then again we and the people near Gleneagles didn't get any say in this from our elected officials either, so why would he take our opinion into account any more than they?

I suppose it is unlikely that many folk will turn up, but it looks like being an interesting time. I really do hope there is a large and successful protest at these international politicians who are being cosseted in enormrous luxury at our expense, but I don't want to see my home over-run in the process. I see today Midge Ure is being the 'voice of reason' for the Live 8 mob - you get the impression they are all shaking their heads as Bob opens his big yap and speaks without thinking once more and they need to sort it out after. Then again, if Bob wasn't the forthright person he is then he'd never have manged to get Band Aid and Live Aid off the ground.