Kings in Disguise...

...living low and lean these past weeks put me in mind of this short-lived but worthy graphic novel series, a black and white examination of the lives of Depression-era denizens of the down-side published by Kitchen Sink Press. Easily in the league of 'Maus' and Will Eisner's wildly over-rated 'tenement symphony', 'A Contract with God' and lesser known than either, despite winning the Harvey, the Eisner and the admiration of Alan Moore, it had the misfortune of arriving during the 'indie-glut' of the late 80s

and thus was lost in the shuffle outside the cogniscenti. Definitely recommended and worth seeking out.

Free Fall...

...years ago, before I abandoned any vain hope of publication -- browsing too many remainder bins and shelving around too many dust-catching volumes of 'forgotten lore' somewhat dims one's hopes for literary immortality, much less fame and fortune -- I concocted a great many unused characters, a universe of make-believe people to populate all the scenes and stories that would, it transpired, go untold.

One of these was, 'The Falling Man'. No longer quite recall what I intended to do with him or into which story he fitted, but I do remember that, either hurled from an aircraft or evicted by -- after all, only so many times one can be abducted or anally probed, neh? -- all he did was drop through the endless sky, reflecting on his life as he fell, perhaps catching the occasional bird on which to snack or quaffing water from from cloud banks, only stopping briefly to dance like that Twilight Zone gremlin (the one who so upset William Shatner, you'll recall) on the wings of passing jet planes.

And now I find I am that man, falling forever, reminiscing.

Life, or its simulacrum, imitating art.

Even if that art will never be seen.