So after over a month of medication and only really light occasional drinking I tested myself with some for real pint pounding this night and I can report the following:
1) I seem to be able to once again handle alcohol
2) I no longer enjoy alcohol
Anyone remember that awful Wu Tang comic book? I think it was called The Nine Rings of Wu Tang. It’s one of those great failures of the universe that we never got a kick-ass comic adaptation of the Wu brand. Pop culture just refuses to follow through sometimes; Jack Nicholson never played Wolverine and Hitchcock never got his pudgy hands on Naomi Watts. Etcetera. Oh well.
This Wu Massacre cover is a nice consolation; Chris Bachalo — full of idiosyncrasies, dynamic, able to tell a damned story — is one of my favourite artists of all time. The indie kids will recognize his style from “Death: The High Cost of Living”, the fanboys from work on “X-Men.” But don’t sleep on his pet project “Steampunk”, where his pencils go absolutely INSANE. Like, Wu-Tang insane.
Here are a couple of things that mainstream men’s mags have reached me with recently:
The UK edition of Esquire featuring Rachel Weisz as this year’s “Woman We Love” because I’ve been crushing on her since “The Mummy” even though as my girlfriend points out she had no eyebrows in that flick. Her talking theatre and literature in an issue of Zembla years back sealed the deal. Weisz is miles ahead of any other woman in Hollywood and I never quite got it when all eyes were on Angelina over her because Angelina’s beauty is kind of bulbous like it’s going to burst (and maybe has) but Weisz is just right like middle-bear porridge. That was cool though because I had her to myself, but I see now I’m not nearly as exclusive as I was or thought I was with these things.
Also, the Awl’s Luke Mazur is writing a blog for GQ (click here) about being 27 and smart and talented but also jobless and how he’s moved back home and sleeps later than everyone else. Again, I’m definitely not alone here but yeah I can relate extremely hard to his situation despite the fact he has a column for GQ and all I have is a blog post about his column.
I’m not sure I can reconcile these two things — any chance of Rachel Weisz marrying an under-employed scribe just a few Far Side calendars shy of 30? — but those are the times we live in right now where “successful” or at least success-minded men can be sort of allowed to be not so successful just yet without having their membership cards revoked. But I’m wondering, just when did I become the target market for these publications? Did I change or did they?