TRS2 is a review sheet distributed by post by Jez Higgins and
numerous individuals. The reviews are first housed here, by Andrew Luke and John Robbins
with Richard Barr. All the reviews since February 2000 are archived here along with
various articles and resources from the sheets. A fuller explaination of what TRS2 is
and how to use it is below
November 27, 2001 11:57 AM posted by John Robbins
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The Scribblers: Thursday Nights
London writing group The Scribblers meet weekly on a Thursday night to encourage continued devotion to the productivity of creative thinking. This collection provides illustration of their endeavour, and proves that sound work indeed emanates from this huddle of harvesters.
Mike Weller's 'The Origin Story of The Invincibles' opens proceedings and offers seductive taste of both the environment and the musicality of his intoxicating 'Space Opera' tome. A short, promotional piece, really, it non-the-less succeeds in engaging that part of the brain responsible for eidetic memory and pleasure. My spine still hums to its rhythms.
Two delightful reminisces of cinema-obsessed youth, presented by Leslie Reeves, find voice through 'In Search of Rosebud' - wherein a nostalgic object succeeds in easing a sense of abandonment - and 'A Look Back at a First Love' - starring Ray Milland and Betty Hutton, with Dorothy Lamour, Joan Caulfield and Alan Ladd in support roles. Neither in Cinemascope nor glorious Technicolor, these memories still prove irresistible viewing.
In 'Another Evening With Sally Nearby', Frank Goodman has penned an enjoyable if frustratingly complex little tale that tells of its indecisive protagonist's sudden decision to choose to love being loved when confronted with the abrupt loss of an obsessed admirer's affections. It perhaps lacks the satisfaction of a resolution that focuses theme; but then, however men might attempt to attach logic to the emotion of love, it is ultimately beyond reason. Thought provoking stuff, this.
Goodman's second offering, 'It's a Spring Day, Sure', employs a flawed but diverting notion of the afterlife - as prompted by Christian philosophy - to write of the post-death re-uniting of young lovers. Amid romantic overtones and a kind of Robert Cummings maudlin, the tale comfortably succeeds in maintaining reader interest.
Poetry follows. 'Recovery' by Sharon Willocks, and two new poems from Kelly McKain - 'Holding on for Harriet' and 'Rosie's Book' - read with that lilting cadence one expects of poetry but often fails to find. Both poets deliver light-hearted, cipher-less fare, fluid and uncluttered. Technically conventional perhaps, but oh-so-charming.
Leonard Emerson's short story 'The Longing of Mr Bexleyheath' occupies the next seventeen pages and proves worthy of the space. Last of the Summer Wine trickles toward Blue Velvet in this humorous, engrossing tale of humdrum lives impacted by a sexual perversion. Polythene bags of pubic hair, salivations over ripe young breasts, a butcher with more meat than he can handle - what more could one ask for? Damn good stuff, this.
John Coventon offers three subdued children's stories told with Enid Blyton clarity and designed not to over-whelm but to distract five to seven year olds. In the darkened attic of her house Eleanor uncovers the mystery behind her magical red boots - there are white witches involved, spells cast, and the surprise assistance of a talking seagull. Later, powered by these red boots, Eleanor cleans her friend's bedroom, then falls asleep.
A collection of Coventon's 'Thoughts Of/On...' series of writings impressively completes this volume with strangely menacing work that drifts from poetic verse to lyrical prose. The dark 'Clue' is especially affecting, but all pieces prompt some semblance of unease, and prove refreshingly cynical in tone. (Or perhaps I'm just projecting!)
Often plagued with typos beyond the 'added character' excuse, and employing a page-numbering that fades then disappears completely, The Scribblers: Thursday Nights is never-the-less a thoroughly enjoyable production that requires little effort to drift through. Both inspiring and engaging, it provides an eclectic mix that never disappoints.
A5 with coloured card cover and 58 pages. Visit www.thescribblers.co.uk to inquire about ordering details, and to sample evidence of Thursday nights well spent!
Fusion Zero is a book I've had sitting around for absolutely fucking ages and I'm sorry to the chaps who have put it together. That's Scott Claringbold and Marc Olivent, Jamie Thompson, Barry Renshaw, Adam Bealby and Anthony Mercer. There?s not much of a continuity of theme or style but enough guaranteed to be something to make someone happy. Superheroes, paper dolls with psychopathic tendencies), strange travelling tales involving forest spirits, and the obligatory anal self-referencing dialogue of two guys in a comic shop which has enough artistic detail, merit, charm and a keeness for the everyday of dialogue to make it redemptive. Everybody who has put something into this anthology has not failed to surprise me in a manner I?m all the better for. Claringbold & Olivent?s work is an improvement on anything they?ve done before, though still a way to go. For information, email enginecomics@hotmail.com for info on were to send the 44p of stamps for this behemoth! It really is absolutely fucking massive.!
Available for order this diverting read with view - choice recliner accompaniment. From ENGINE COMICS, 36 REUBEN STREET, HEATON NORRIS, STOCKPORT, SK4 1PS.
Strange that I don?t appear to have reviewed it, but some while ago, I got Angel Nebula #9, the final of Tony McGee?s two hundred whatsit epic. And now, I can?t find my copy. But it?s available, it?s 75p (like all the others) and it?s really fecking good. It explains everything relating to the series, although I felt confused for the first two months after reading it. Jolly good stuff.
Angel Nebula#9 Tony McGee, 143 Meldon Drive, Bradley, Bilston, West Midlands, WV14 8BE
Angel Nebula#9 Tony McGee, 143 Meldon Drive, Bradley, Bilston, West Midlands, WV14 8BE
Angel Nebula#9 Tony McGee, 143 Meldon Drive, Bradley, Bilston, West Midlands, WV14 8BE
I'm up to my eyeballs in assignments for college over the next month: if anybody fancies producing reviews, I'd be more than happy to put them up here, as would the various talents evolved. Send hem to me here and I'll post them here All helpful helpful.
November 13, 2001 4:04 PM posted by John Robbins
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Talamander #8
For eight issues TALAMANDER has remained a fascinating spectacle in the context of an artist?s determination to hone his craft and to maintain a relentless creativity. Throughout, there exists a genuine ambition to simply tell a good, entertaining story devoid of parable-like trappings and irritated expostulation. TALAMANDER is/was something of a diverting relief.
Often a touch indulgent however, the series lacks density; much of its run seductively offering page upon page of attractive sequential art, but just a few panels of actual story. Put simply: artist/writer Tim Brown requires no text-heavy panels as means of side-stepping weak panel-to-panel draughtsmanship, but for the most part fails to recognise that the story-telling is not tight enough, and everything that is suspect in the work - explosions of exposition, fatigued illustration, plodding pace - derives from this fatal flaw. In essence, it is the quantity of work produced that is his taxing element, and the quality of output suffers as a result.
That said, stretched over the series there have always been enough glimpses of the artist at his best to maintain interest. Well crafted and technically impressive, his style has developed from hollow, inconsistent cartoon to Corben-like effectiveness. Indeed, with continued production of photo-realistic detail to provide perfect platform for showcasing some quality ink-work, Brown certainly demonstrates the potential to realise mainstream success. And with cleverer composition and firmer control of story-telling, he may well do so.
TALAMANDER #8 sounds the death knell of this series. Previous efforts have frequently lacked coherency and failed to generate any semblance of involvement - this down mostly to inappropriate pacing and a deluge of somewhat confusing sequences of events - but at its best, the series has conjured a solid sense/feel of fantasy/myth writing; of a Princess Bride influenced take on sword and sorcery; and of an artist in search of his prime. With #8, Brown is getting there. I anticipate his next project with something resembling excitement.
TALAMANDER #8 is card covered A4, 20 pages, a pound and fifty, and available from Tim Brown, 22 Woodborough Drive, Winscombe, Somerset BS25 1HB. Email: brin@talamander.freeserve.co.uk.
Toenail Clippings, as implied, is a fragment of something a lot bigger. In this case, a collection of short accessible works by artists (who the editor claims have no interests in comics) create comics.
With this, I felt really relaxed, and under no pressure to impress with my words. I'm tired and this, Toenail Clippings, is absolutely brilliant.This really is the way to do it, a pride accomplished presence of consolidated effort and organisation: is it too much to hope for UK creators to produce something like this? From it's fine packaging and enthusiastic distribution to it's substantial and welcoming comic strips. Toenail Clippings really does have something for everyone: and it's viewable whatever mood you're in. Toenail Clippings #3 is, oh quote me, unmissable.
Toenail Clippings Issues 1-3 are available for ?2.95 from Smallzone,
Toenail Clippings 1-3 is also the only comic booklet solely distributed by me (thank god) from Andrew Luke, 5 Stanley Avenue, Bangor, BT20 5EN and orders are very welcome indeed.
A4, clr cover, 32 pgs
Xander and Friends Gary Parkin, creator of some thirty comic books between 1997-1998 returns with this mini-comic, which hones in on a visual style very similar to Ralph Kidsons. No bad thing at all. A collection of short pen-full tales of universal forms and somewhat specialist scenery. The tales are a lot more delicate, mellow. Yet as Frederic Werthram if he were alive may have said, "displays scenes of gore and graphic violence amidst tales of childhood adventure and ordinary healthy scenarios that are entirely inappropriate". Gary's work is as unassuming and impressive as usual. Unchallenging, on the brink of predictability, a well-spent five to ten minutes in very good company.
A6, clr cover 24pgs, 50p from Gary Parkin, 8 Newbury Way, Cusworth, Doncaster, S. Yorks, DN5 8PY.
Email garyrparkin@hotmail.com for further details.
?Butterguy? #1, ?1 from Freakypud?s comix, 12 Jaycroft court, Stephenson street, North Shields, Tyne and Wear, NE30 1ET, uk
Shane D. Rivett brings us a tale of self centred superheroes and an art style that?s Dek Baker and Mitzy having a picnic. ?Butterguy? is our hero, a mild mannered young man, who was occasionally bullied and frequently the butt of jokes. That was until the local superheroes (or champions) saved his life. Through mysterious technology and invention he battles to be the cities number one hero.
It?s good to see a comic with enthusiasim as one of it?s most evident features. Despite a few spelling errors, the dialogue comes across quite clear, and the story is straight forward enough. There?s definitely some talent here.
Check out www.butterguy.com, and judge for yourself.
Affectionately known as the "Trash-80," this PC was introduced by Radio Shack in 1977. The TRS-80 had only four kilobytes of memory, however, and could not handle lowercase letters. What's more, it had just three error messages: "HOW?" whenever the user tried to perform an illegal function; "WHAT" when a syntax error occurred; and "SORRY" when the available memory ran out. Still, its price--$400--and its availability made it one of the most popular of the early personal computers. Some 55,000 machines were sold in its first year.
Three tales of Cornelius MacBeth, Napoleonic ghost hunter operating in Victorian England. The story leaves plenty of room for pigdigs being filled with a functional but not lavish art. For the half this look rather amateurish and for the 40% thats a real shame for Colin Matheison displays a clear intricate nuance quite (stylistically) allegorical with a visual balance aware of motion. Good exterior, peculiar interiors not a everyone's eye-fix but the improvements of future make Colin Matheison a strong final drafter.
Available from Shane Chebsey at Smallzone, 10 Cleveland Avenue, High Ercall, Telford, Shropshire.
Or direct from M56 Comics, 8 Stelfox Avenue, Timperley, Cheshire, WA15 6UL.
?1 plus SAE, A5, 20 pages.
A flipcomicbooklet featuring two regular strips, 'Trojan' and 'Out Of Time'. Trojan is the tale of a actor playing Auberon who loses his flute. And that's not all, he's a regular klutz and from clothes to car keys, he just can't remember anything. 'Trojan' is also the tale of a group of cops, reporters and politicians monitoring the activities of strange phenomena going on in town phenomena centred round a man carying a flute, wearing odd clothing and tossing a car.
The fact of the protagonist's superhuman powers is obscure, dwarfed by abstract verse with some post-symbolist visuals. Dave West lays these Kirbymotifs in among his usual atlas-shade figure sketches and classical monument style from office blocks to teacups. Nuances. The shade here is lighter in tone, perhaps as a link to co-artist Ray Mayers work. Mayers fills in ten pages, the editor states, bringing 'dynamics' of adventure to the work. The result, my eyes viewed, were undynamic and unadventurous. The quality contrast reflects poorly on Mayers: although he's competent at sketching action, there are a few obvious swipes. There appears a case of bland, white-out and the reversion to formulated elsewhere scenes is exactly that. It does weaken the strip considerably that the lettering is miniscule.
'Out of Time' by M. E. Read and W. David running eight pages is fast becoming an always welcome tale placed in front of my Jack Duckworth glasses (and without). With an average of fifty words per narrative devoted to science adventure heroism battle, this slowly keenly paced yarn follows a crippled war veteran around, the survey of his past actions. Read writes facing like the mirror of a young and disgruntled beat poet while David loaded up with herbal tea and ganga surfs the definition of elegance, his art-room host to a ,ultitude of amplifiers really..Long may this pre-origin proceed.
There's a cheeky editorial attitude to this zine. If you like your superhero strips but prefer they were kept in the closet, then write Deva Comics, 2 Mill Lane, Holmes Chapel, Crewe, CW4 8AT.
This costs ?1.95 UK and is US size, 36 pages and very well presented.
Hurrah, It?s Leaflit#31 ! More product from the Morrissey of the Underground press.
A Protocol Love
In which John Robbins employs theories from Emile Durkheim, and the absolute nature of love for which no adequate reference from my library can convey.
John's writing style, his fiction, is such that it teaches us to hate, no despise him. When that line is reached and passed, further more valid bleeding eruptive emotions are weighted and metaphorical Kodak produced.
For myself, I get resonance of identification to a mark that is weep.
Here, John chronicles a series of emails between himself and a female study colleague. As it is, the use of grammar is quite non-existent, the wording casual and slang derived. It displays little of his usual flair for reader-orientated word-search. Quite frankly it makes dull reading although with odd glimpses of humour that portrayal, are livelier in the direction of screwball than his previous dry or quieter wit.
Like previous controversial works, "The Trial", "Closing Shots" and "Stripped Bare" (most Leaflits actually)?) John claims that genuine source material has been used. Interested writers have questioned the morality of this, justly.
Whatever the reality, John Robbins the writer written draws a firm line here with reference to love and suicide attempt. These were my choices, my experiences and none shall pass! Mine alone exclaimeth the acts to thee! For John Robbins the writer written and sequential purposes, this self admonition be as strong and as important as any of his messages, although the text after John's bleakest ambiguous general admonition of guilt is nearly too high a course. Amidst the dangerous, John whips off his disguise of modesty to portray himself in a more positive human light, (including a wonderfully hilarious rap sequence). And as hilly reading as this particular Leaflit is, that light is wholly welcome.
Post/email John your address with details of your own near-life experience for a free copy of 'Protocol'. Rhubarb108@Hotmail.com or John Robbins, 11 Avonmore Avenue, Tallaght, Dublin 24, Eire.
Past Reviews May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002 January 2002 December 2001 November 2001 October 2001 September 2001 August 2001 July 2001 June 2001 May 2001 April 2001 How to use TRS2To order
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