In an acid-resistant lab, Col. Anthony Crespi assists Dr. Paul Church with an Alien autopsy, and reveals the inner workings of the biomechanical creatures. Crespi is in for even more dangerous revelations, as he and Lt. Sharon McGuinness continue their investigation into the death of a fellow crewman.
Jim Woodring was born in Los Angeles in 1952 and enjoyed a childhood made lively by an assortment of mental an psychological quirks including paroniria, paranoia, paracusia, apparitions, hallucinations and other species of psychological and neurological malfunction among the snakes and tarantulas of the San Gabriel mountains.
He eventually grew up to bean inquisitive bearlike man who has enjoyed three exciting careers: garbage collector, merry-go-round-operator and cartoonist. A self-taught artist, his first published works documented the disorienting hell of his salad days in an “illustrated autojournal” called Jim. This work was published by Fantagraphics Books and collected in The Book of Jim in 1992.
He is best known for his wordless comics series depicting the follies of his character Frank, a generic cartoon anthropomorph whose adventures careen wildly from sweet to appalling. A decade’s worth of these stories was collected in The Frank Book in 2004. The 2010 Frank story Weathercraft won The Stranger’s Genius Award and was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for that year. The most recent Frank book, Congress of the Animals, was released in 2011.
Woodring is also known for his anecdotal charcoal drawings (a selection which was gathered in Seeing Things in 2005), and the sculptures, vinyl figures, fabrics and gallery installations that have been made from his designs. His multimedia collaborations with the musician Bill Frisell won them a United States Artists Fellowship in 2006. He lives in Seattle with his family and residual phenomena.
I love how this doctor just casually walks the xenomorph around through the halls like it is some sort of dog. He just does not give a fuck about anything or anyone's safety around that thing, and I honestly respect that. Probably how I would act if I had one of those things for myself too. Also, I'm sorry, are they all just moving on with their lives like nothing happened? This man just got killed by the xenomorph, and nobody bats an eye after a funeral? If I were there, I would be nopeing the fuck out of there as soon as I could!
Issue #2
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.