Looking at the myriad of not so flattering star reviews, it appears Indigo Vertigo is mostly a comic for fans of Katie Jane Garside - it's not so much...moreLooking at the myriad of not so flattering star reviews, it appears Indigo Vertigo is mostly a comic for fans of Katie Jane Garside - it's not so much a story as a journal entry of disparate parts, complemented by Dan Schaffer's excellent art. "It's like Sylvia Plath fucking David Lynch," is written by Warren Ellis on the back of the comic, and that is true for both the art style and the writing itself.
It's about a sick girl who wanders a city, lost but not lost, and the city warping itself as she walks through it, and the reconciliation of self, and self-harm, and isolation, and the expectations of others. Katie Jane Garside often writes about being a slave of sorts to the paradigms of others. She's taken out of her universe, folded into what other people expect of her. This is most easily seen on her songs in Queen Adreena like "FM Doll" and "Suck"
Really, it takes a lyrical genius to write the lines: "Force my hand, I will sign anything because I am lonely."
And this desperation and anger is evident in the stream of consciousness in "Indigo Vertigo."
I am cracks and splits dog on a chain man's best friend
Read it all at once - it'll take you 10 or 15 minutes. It's a short read, and not available new on Amazon, but worth it for the right kind of audience.(less)
"Credentials, credentials, credentials. This one cannot fuck if he doesn't have a dominatrix over him snapping a whip. This one cannot fuck if the gir...more"Credentials, credentials, credentials. This one cannot fuck if he doesn't have a dominatrix over him snapping a whip. This one cannot fuck if the girl is not dressed like a chambermaid. Some can fuck only midgets, some only criminals, some only chickens. My son can fuck only a girl with the right moral credentials. Please, I tell him, it's a perversity, no better or worse than any other. Recognize it for what it is and don't feel so special." - The Dying Animal
So okay, I don't know what compelled me to read this book at the exact time I did, but I'm glad of its relevance to me. It was a short read, finished it in half of a 3 hour or so plane ride. I had several other books on my kindle and in my bag but the name "Philip Roth" popped into my head and I decided to see what was up.
A college professor decides to forsake the pursuit of love for what he sees as hedonism, until he meets the woman Conseula who fractures him, breaks him. He knows he's doomed from the beginning because of his loss of self in his adoration. Her personality isn't particularly appealing, but in her he finds a sublimation he hasn't experienced. The story isn't about how amazing Conseula she is - she is extraordinary only in her beauty and its unremarkableness - but about her effect on the professor losing his sense of self, the bone breaking that results.
It's about how no one is "superior to sex", and whether a person tries to control it by fucking every person they can find, or not at all, or being fused to another person like a flatworm, it will always find you. It will rupture the best parts of you, lay you low, take what you thought you knew about love and morality and fuck it sideways. Because sex is not just a hobby, it's in the core of your being, and no amount of philosophy, rules, or suppression can save you from that.
The writing is sparse and clean and elegant. I had heard Roth was one of the greats and I can see why. He doesn't write an extraneous word. Definitely going to read more of his stuff when I get further into my TBR pile.
What started out as an intriguing premise to investigate the murder of Susan Walsh at the hands of a secret vampire organization quickly degenerated i...moreWhat started out as an intriguing premise to investigate the murder of Susan Walsh at the hands of a secret vampire organization quickly degenerated into an cacophony of visiting vampire/goth clubs, talking to delusional people who liked to drink blood, and getting late night phone calls from a man who was clearly a pathological liar.
Yes, it definitely did "Pierce the Darkness", in the fact that vampires, if they exist, are good at hiding, and the people who come forward are attention seekers, pathological liars, or roleplayers.
I found her reporting to be lacking. Everyone who speaks has the same bland, wordy style of language. She wanted to immerse herself in vampire culture, yet when visiting the house of a blood fetishist immediately excuses herself and leaves. She justifies this by saying "there is a difference between imagining a blood sucker and actually witnessing one. These aren't real vampires." Wouldn't that have been an interesting way to explore the romanticism of blood drinking as opposed to the reality? No, she throws the whole experience under the bus to keep the romantic image of vampires alive.
There are lots of pages dedicated to her biography of Anne Rice (which is mentioned in nearly every chapter). This gets old quickly.
I am sure there are better books for uncovering this subculture than this one. It was an interesting read, but nonetheless disappointing. (less)
I've never been much of a fan of Lavey, as Satanism is too close to Objectivism in multiple ways. I think it's a nice introduction into non-christian...moreI've never been much of a fan of Lavey, as Satanism is too close to Objectivism in multiple ways. I think it's a nice introduction into non-christian based philosophies and moralities, but not the end result. Not to mention the disturbing threads of eugenics that tend to run through his work. Nevertheless, out of curiosity that will probably doom me, I decided to read The Satanic Witch. What I found myself immersed in was a madman's outdated ideas of seduction which included always wearing red lips, garters, and heels, wearing soiled underwear and bra straps, not wearing deodorant, putting menstrual blood in a packet underneath your bra, faking your personality to match the man you want to seduce on "the clock." (An invention which puts every person's personality and size on a 12 point clock).
This book was like the 1960s version of the pick up artist for women. There is no real magic in this book, just trickery and lies that would quickly collapse under any sort of scrutiny.
As a "seductress" myself (god, I hate typing that word out) I have broken nearly every known technique and suggested seduction trick that has ever been invented. Here's all you have to do to seduce a man: Be relatable (Joke around, be friendly), be mildly attractive (this is mostly in facial expression, not weight or looks), be somewhat intelligent and or interesting. That's pretty much it. (less)