
Of course I used to sneak a look at The Banana Splits. Can you name all four, and the hook line of their campy yet ground breaking live action mini feature, Danger Island (featuring a young Jan Michael Vincent)?

Lynn, some people thought you were the second coming of Richard Wright. Some people thought your were our version of Sidney Sheldon, popular but crappy. Some people thought you were an undercover crusader--showing the black community a distant mirror of the ugliness it reflects on issues of gay life. Some people thought you weren't forceful enough, or opened up our "dirty laundry" of life on the DL.



The annual geek-vention for comic fans is now as glossy and star-studded as Us Weekly. Here's how to look like a real fan.
And check out photo blast from the past. As in Triassic old...was Nichelle Nichols fine as spider spit back then or what?
The seeds of our destruction are fertilized with our hype. Comic con's no exception...


lation by 15,000 over the next 18 months.


Nelson Mandela: The Authorized Comic Book (W.W. Norton 2009 hardcover $27) comes out July 17 in the US. It's the latest in a newfangled genre of graphic nonfiction bios. The range of subjects is stunning: from Malcolm X to J.Edgar Hoover. And most are of amazing quality: crisp and informative narrative, vivid artwork, clean lettering. This bio of Mandela is likewise amazing, appropriate for all ages. But what sets it apart is that is a collaboration. The author is the Nelson Mandela Foundation. The artist is Umlando Wezithombe. Umlando is a group, not a person. A collective of many young South African artist-illustrators. Imagine what you'd have in the typical American graphic novel/sequential art orbit: superstar writers, tempermental artists, anal retentive letterers and inkers coming together, eschewing money arguments and ego? Ha! But it happened here. All for the love of this man. Listen, it took 35 years and a civil war's interruption to build the obelisk to our comparable icon--George Washington.
"Your position as to the work of Booker T. Washington is pitably anomalous. You recite the story of his upward struggle with uncontrolled admiration: “The story of this little ragged, barefoot pickaninny, who lifted his eyes from a cabin in the hills of Virginia, saw a vision and followed it, until at last he presides over the richest and most powerful institution in the South, and sits down with crowned heads and presidents, has no parallel even in the Tales of the Arabian Nights.” You say that this story appeals to the universal heart of humanity. And yet in a recent letter to the Columbia State, you say you regard it as an unspeakable outrage that Mr. Robert C. Ogden should walk arm in arm with this wonderful who “ appeals to the universal heart of humanity,” and introduce him to the lady clerks of the dry goods store. Your passionate devotion to a narrow dogma has seriously impaired your sense of humor. The subject of your next great novel has been announced at “The Fall of Tuskagee.” In one breath you commend the work of this great institution, while in another you condemn it because it does not fit into you preconceived scheme in the solution of the race problem.
(referencing Liberia and Haiti) Whenever a lower people overrun the civilization of the higher there is an inevitable lapse toward the level of the lower. When barbarians and semi-civilized hordes of northern Europe overran the southern peninsulas the civilization of the world was wrapped in a thousand years of darkness. Relapse inevitably precedes the rebound.
Your dose of Kelly Miller for 7/6/09. Savor and digest...
