RKYV ONLINE # 8

8/8/2019 RKYV ONLINE # 8

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TABLE OF CONTENTSRKYV # 8 {January 2008}RKYV ONLINE LOGO - David Marshall { current }

- Roy G. James { original }- R.J. Pare { original online adaptation}

Virtual Cover # 8 - art by Wade Ferris- layouts by David Marshall

Editorial Column - “Pass The Stuffing” - R.J. Pare

Health Columns -“So how are we feeling today?” - Leanne Bechard-Stiers

Interior Art - pieces by Noah Burstyn, Santiago London, Stan Nelson, JoshBowe, Lee-Ann Marie Macdonald, Wade Ferris, Marc Ngui,Roger Formidable, Mark Laliberte, Rodney Mercer, Ignacio

Rojas, Belinda Da Fonseca, Sherril Anne Tucker

Poetry - “some short songs” - by Noah Burstyn“Pare’s Poetic Perspectives” - by R.J. Pare

Fan Fiction - “The Shadow of Shazam” - by R.J. Pare Non-Fiction - “Futurism in the Funnies” - by Roy G. James

Family Life - “Cook Book for Working Families” &“My Journal” - by Amanda Fortin

Pop Culture -“Raised on Saturday Morning Cartoons” - by Pauline Harren Pare

Untitled - by Belinda Da Fonseca Abstract Study - by Josh Bowe



It was a Good Summer for Dick - Marc NguiForgotten Colors - by Ignacio Rojas



Pass the Stuffing Letter from the Editor

{Jan. 22} So... I went to do some writing yesterday... and the keyboard was not responding. Now I was understandably perplexed.... why isn't my keyboard working?

I tried a re-boot...

I received an error message "Keyboard Failure". This seemed ominous... I tried to inspect the keyboard to see if there was any...obvious damage... or maybe a wire disconnected. I noticed something odd.

Well I suppose NOT odd really... I mean NOT all that odd if a keyboard is supposed to SLOSH!!!!!!

That's right. SLOSH!

Hmm... this bears investigation... some of the keys are alittle sticky...

I turn the keyboard upside down...

Fruit Punch spills all over my desk top.

!#$%^&*@!

My OLDEST daughter informs me that my YOUNGESTdaughter had spilled her juice all over the keyboard and shehad tried to wipe it up...

Yes the desk was wiped up... THAT's WHY DADDYDIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING WAS WRONG!!!!!

Eyez - by Santiago London



Did she think the juice INSIDE the keyboard would just dryup eventually??????????????????????

I dis-assembled my keyboard... cleaned everything... driedeverything... and put it all back together...As you can tell ... IT WORKED!

When I asked my daughter why she didn't tell me... she gaveme the line about NOT wanting to get in trouble...

BUT I said ...

“YOU TOLD DADDY IT WAS YOUR LITTLE SISTER??”

"Yes, But ya see... the thing is daddy, well I... I... I..."

YOU WHAT!?!?

"Well, the thing is... I wanted a sip of her juice... and shewouldn't give it to me..."

GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

The little darlings.

Anti Claus - by Stan Nelson



Now onto RKYV business. I am beginning to seriously consider getting this mag it's OWN domain. This would allow a locationwhere submissions and downloads of issues can both be done. As well as OPEN forums for discussions and reviews. I would

appreciate feedback from all of you... the readers, subscribers, participants and staff... BEFORE I make such a move. Share your thoughts and suggestions with me: [email protected]

RKYV ONLINE is pleased to have kept a monthly schedule since we launched in May of 2007. The beautiful art from our varied andtalented contributors has been a sight to behold and over the months the writing has been an entertaining mix that is sometimesfunny... thoughtful... angst-ridden... and hopefully even exciting. In 2008 we are hoping to ADD more regular columns. RKYVONLINE is looking for you to share your thoughts on topics like POLITICS, the ENVIRONMENT and SPORTS. If you or someoneyou know can contribute in this area... please send submissions to our FaceBook site or my e-mail listed above. In an effort to continueto build this mag and increase readership {and thus increase exposure for all of our developing talent} I would encourage ALL readersand contributors to SPREAD the word and feel FREE to pass along copies of RKYV to acquaintances, friends and family. Together we can ALL make 2008 a banner year for RKYV!

Untitled - by Belinda Da FonsecaUntitled - by Josh Bowe

Fingerprint-head - by Mark Laliberte





Gallery Art

L A Raven self portrait - by Lee-Ann MarieMacdonald

Jump and the city Buildings - by Elza VonZansen

X-mas Reaper Goddess - by Stan Nelson



Untitled mural - by Sherril Anne Tucker Untitled - by Belinda Da Fonseca

Arms behind back study - by Josh Bowe

Untitled - by Rodney Mercer



Azreal - by Noah Burstyn

Untitled - Mohammed Abdullah

Dungeon Bitches - by Roger Formidable



Untitled - by Josh Bowe



Poetry Song 1 - by Noah BurstynThe lack of logic astonishing,Hysterics of the mind consuming all reason.Stumbling through the pitch, your spirit giving way,Your consciousness’ treason.For the senses illuminate nothing of fearful silhouette,

Nothing of cruel or sinister formYet this must be the calm before the storm.Paranoia, an abominable anxiety coursing through every nerve.

No energy saved, no sanity is conserved.

Fear of the unseen.

Fear of that which could have been

Terror of the knowledge of the unknown, andIn such misery all rationality is overthrown.The seeds of faith are hereby sewn.The crops of deception are hereby grownVast fields, an endless sea of tainted fruit,To be harvested by deceitful reapers.Fear of the dark, cold and stark Is it raven, or is it lark, who’s song guides your panicked strides.For perhaps upon the answer, to this query, your fate it rides

Untitled - by Belinda Da Fonseca

Imaginary Portrait - by Josh Bowe



What monstrous fiends,What forms of evil lurk in this the darkness of the moonless night?Is the eye that sees holding you captive in its sight?Its terrific vision?Are the hands which bind paralyzing your mind,Disrupting any decision?What is it there that can’t be seen?Is it the beast or is it divine?Perhaps it is something in between.

Fear of the unseen.

Fear of that which could have been.

Terror of the knowledge of the unknown, andIn such misery all rationality is overthrown.The seeds of faith are hereby sewn.The crops of deception are hereby grownVast fields, an endless sea of tainted fruit,To be harvested by deceitful reapers.Fear of the dark, cold and stark Is it raven, or is it lark, who’s song guides your panicked strides.For perhaps upon the answer, to this query, your fate it rides.

Song 2 - by Noah Burstyn

Running.A fate whispered melody serenading you toward your destiny.

The path unclear, clouded by shadows, long lost vestiges of faith.Moving in no direction, with no intent.An eternal suspension of your animation.Your stagnation of spirit, your apathy,Will bring you a life of misery.For without a purpose, a compelling cause,All you’ll see in yourself is weakness, your flaws.Standing, still as stone, untouched by the chisel of society.A perfect mass of silence.Undefined yet firm in your confidence.

Untitled - by Rodney Mercer





Upon their hallowed ground, stands the wretched tree,A veil of leaves, covers the true, putrid nature of the bark,

the knotted mass that is a termite’s temple.The insects, as the evangelists, bore through the trunk,

Networks of tunnels weakening the structure.The heart, festering pulp, they are soon to puncture.

What but the husk would be left of this the stalk Of this testament to faith,Should that faith be stripped awayLike the layers of the fruit its tree hath born?Will the crest of a man’s creed persist, will it still be worn?

The trunk, twisted,Wrenched into a horrid perversion of its noble form.Constantly assaulted, swayed by the minds of men,A cyclonic storm.

The branches tossed by the squall,The leaves torn from the appendagesRipped away like the meaning hidden amidst prophetic pages.

But what of the mist which shrouds the scene,The words of their martyrs producing a screenThrough which the truth can not be seen.

The vaporous cloak is too dense, with the droplets,Prayers of deception.

What but the shell,Employed by the wicked as a shield would remain?Would I hold your conviction in such complete distain,If you wouldn’t kill me in the name of your god?And it is the question that defines the answer,

Driving you to distraction,But blindly you would wander, arm, twig,

Used to perform the bloody action.

The roots, secured in toxic soil, continue to absorb the poison,While countless veins, spread it throughout the whole.Drink of the sap, sustain your leaf,

And save your faithful soul.

Raven on a Moonlit Night - by Noah Burstyn



Pare’s Poetic Perspectives - by R.J. Pare

Bob was a prodigy and he was bored The world was young as Bobby won

Establishment’s acclaim, all the recordsOpponent’s disdain, the black and white board

Of malady, we could not see That Fischer’s mind was in brilliant discord

Bobby was a champion when he playedPlayed for change, random re-arrange

He changed the game in ways strategicBut fame brought fear that like baggage stayed

Of malady, we would not seeOnly seeing the vict’ry aesthetic

And what part did we play?By looking the other way

"I am the true world chess champion"Sincerely, Bobby Fischer.

His behaviour it went un-diagnosedA piece of him, each time he’d win

Those around him willfully selectiveHis beautiful mind the evident host

Of malady, oh can’t you see?His mind festers a poison invective!

Tom Waits - by Josh Bowe



On the run hunted by Patriot ActsWithout a land, he found Iceland

We just treated sickness as eccentricIn his rants, raves and hate that did distract

His malady, we would not see The man was paranoid schizophrenic!

Karpov, Kasparov and Spassky What do they mean to me?

Do what I say, or I won’t play To your packed theater

Try to make me stay and I’ll run away Sincerely, Bobby Fischer.

And what part did we play?By looking the other way

You were the true world chess championSincerely, Bobby Fischer .

Untitled - by Belinda Da Fonseca



Fan Fiction The Shadow of Shazam - by R.J. Pare, based on the DC Comics characters

{all rights reserved}

“You would be wise,” the old man sneered, “to refrain from makingany sudden... foolish movements my dears... heh... heh.” Bald,

bespectacled and wrinkled with years, he hardly made for an imposing

figure. Until, that is, you looked at the gun in his trembling hands, all black and menacing. One part a silly looking futuristic contraption,straight out of some Flash Gordon strip... and one part a deadly seemingviper swaying back and forth, ready to strike, from this old mad man’swithered and shaking hands.

Dr. Thomas Wayne wasn’t really sure what to make of all this. Justmoments ago his bride, Martha, and he were about to leave and go outfor lunch. “Perhaps the Plaza,” he had thought, “it was always nice inthe spring and the fresh air on the patio was pleasant. Martha says shehas a surprise for me... something she wants to tell me. Well it doesn’ttake a physician to diagnose these symptoms. After all,” he thought with

joyful pride “she was lingering over that basinet in the department storewindow the other day. A father...” Thomas could hardly contain hisanticipation “maybe, perhaps, a son!!”

“COUGH!... COUGH!... h-h-HACK!...” {SPIT!!}

Thomas Wayne’s reverie was cut short by his very immediateconcerns over this strange intruder in his home.

“You’re a vile, horrible, man!” Martha cries out at the aging villain,her eyes drawn to the disgusting wad of mucus he has just spat on her

By David Marshall







“All right Sivana, what happens to the nice couple if I attempt to save them?” He asks “is there a death ray set to go off? A bombthat’s triggered if they move? Come on... I can tell you can hardly contain your enthusiasm you grinning ghoul... Out with it, why

shouldn’t I take that pop-gun and crush it in my hands and cart you off to the authorities this instant?”

“COUGH!” Sivana is laughing so hard now he is having trouble breathing. “Hahaha... Because my friend might have something tosay about that, after all it was his idea to lure you here... Bwahahaha.... cough, cough, cough”

“Oh stop that incessant chortling before you kill yourself, my... ‘partner’...” a new voice says from behind Captain Marvel.

A chill comes over the Captain, he knows this voice, it is a dangerous one, and he will have to act quickly. Using the Speed of Mercury he spins and attacks Mordru the Magician before he can utter a spell...

Or, at least that is what Marvel tries to do.

He finds that he cannot move his feet... he seems to be held in place in the centre of the room. “What!!!?” The frustrated championutters in growing fear for the lives of the innocent captives. “This won t hold me for long Mordru!”

“Long enough mortal, long enough...” the sinister sorcerer replies. “Long enough for me to take every last bit of magic in you andadd it to my already considerable powers...Behold!” And, with a swipe of his hand, the mystical trap in which Captain Marvel findshimself is revealed. The Captain sees he is standing in the middle of a pentacle, one that is surrounded by six circles each separated bywriting, mystical runes of a language even the Wisdom of Solomon does not allow him to decipher.

“The Wisdom of Solomon; the Strength of Hercules; the Stamina of Atlas; the Power of Zeus; the Courage of Achilles and theSpeed of Mercury.... all this magnificent magical power. The Powers of the Gods! And you... you prattling, preening, perfectsimpleton... you dress in pajamas and play the hero for them?!?!” Mordru exclaims disbelievingly.

“What I do, I do for the sake of others... I don’t expect villains like yourselves to understand that...” the Captain adds trying to buytime to figure a way out of this jam.

“Yes, cough, cough, well WE don’t care for your boy scout monologues either... {hack}” spits the still coughing Dr. Sivana, pleasedhe will see an end to his adversary. “Just remember, once he is powerless, he is mine, you hand him over to me Mordru!”



“Once he has been relieved of the Gods blessings, my goodDoctor, I will have no more use for him... you can do whatever you

wish with him... now for your part, erect the force field I requested.”Mordru asks.

“I still don’t see why we needed to expend the resources, your traphas worked he is helpless...” Sivana gloats.

“Of course you don’t see!!” Shouts Mordru. “If it cannot beexplained by science, you cannot, or choose not, to understand. I amtelling you this...” Mordru raises his voice getting angry with Sivana“if the Gods intervene they may be able to stop us... and I will leaveyou alone to face them... I will escape to realms beyond your ken...what, my increasingly annoying ‘partner’ will you do when theangry Gods send down their wrath upon you?”

Dr. Sivana produces a small plain box with a single button on it.

“Very well, no need to shout...” he sheepishly adds as he presses the button. A distant humming can be heard, and the world’s mightiestmortal hangs his head in disappointment, he knows that no helpfrom the Gods or the Wizard Shazam is likely to reach him in time.“That sound Mordru,” Sivana proudly gloats “is my force field

protecting us, now I suppose it is time for me to remind YOU tohurry it up. This powerful a shield will burn out in minutes... wehaven’t long for you to do... whatever it is your going to do... soMUMBO JUMBO HOCUS and give me Captain Marvel!” Dr.Sivana shouts in triumph.

Dr. Thomas Wayne has seen enough. It would be catastrophic…the power of Captain Marvel… in the hands of these lunatics? Theworld would surely perish. He was a medic in the war, he is notafraid to die if it saves lives. In this case, not only, the life of hisBy David Marshall







“Yes, yes, get it out… it will make the trip back to prison less of annoyance if you get your ravings out of the way sooner rather thanlater.” C.C. Batson, lacking the humility that comes with Solomon’s wisdom, gloated.

“BIG RED CHEESE!” roared Sivana. Even the Wayne’s, shaken by their close call with death, had to laugh at the absurd madman.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Martha Wayne looks at her husband and then at C.C. and says “whatever are we to do now… err,Captain?”

“Well, not really at the moment,” C.C. winks at the good lady. “But I’m sure that’s fine for now… I’ll explain later.” He turns towardThomas. “That was a very brave thing you did Mr. Wayne.”

“I… I just couldn’t stand by and let them destroy everything we fought for… we didn’t stand by and allow Hitler to conquer theworld… we surely couldn’t let these nut-jobs either.” Thomas said with the confidence overcoming great evil can give a man.

“I know that I may not have much in common with a hero like your self, sir” Thomas continues “but it really did seem like the onlychoice I could make.”

“I think you and I might have more in common then you might think.” C.C. smiles at these folks who he is starting to really like. It isnot often that he finds people he enjoys the company of. Not in this line of work. Not when lives are in danger. Usually, they fawn allover him like he is a celebrity or their anxiety makes them lash out wondering why he could not have reached them sooner. Rarely arethey composed enough to just talk to him and treat him as a man trying to do a tough job.

“I do think Mrs. Wayne,” he says turning back towards her “that I should be escorting your uninvited house guest back to prison.”

“How… um ya know… can you manage that?” Martha asks nodding towards C.C. and his current non-powered status.

“Oh, that’s easily fixed,” C.C. chuckles.

“SHAZAM!”



Interlude…Interlude…Interlude…Interlude…

Several years pass, in which C.C. Batson and the Waynes become fast friends. He was deeply touched and honoured when theyasked him to be the godfather of their baby boy… Bruce. They share in his heroic victories and offer him true companionship in hisreal life. C.C. begins to remember a time when C.C. wasn’t just a secret identity… but a whole and complete person. One day whenhis godson was only six years old…

“I don’t see why Dad doesn’t like me playing back here.” A grumpy Bruce Wayne mutters to himself. “There are so many cool places to investigate and build forts!!” The young swashbuckler picks up a thin, fallen, branch.

“Ah-hah!” he brandishes his rapier-like twig. “No scur-r-rvy pirates are gonna take this fort… it’s defended by Cap’n Wayne!” the sixyear shouts with glee.

“Bru-u-ce!” Martha calls out. Bruce hears his mother and decides to hide a little deeper in the bush behind their home. He can alwayssay he didn’t hear her… except she can tell when he fibs… says he shuffles his feet when he is guilty…”well I don’t do that mom!” hegripes, shuffling his small feet.

“Bruce! Come on now, your father has told you to stay out of the woods; you know you’re to keep close enough to the house so I cansee you.” Martha frowns. She adores the little rascal, but sometimes he is just as stubborn as his father… and she is not about to have asix year old calling the shots… no sir-ree-bob she isn’t. “Bruce, you get back here this instant or I’m telling your father when he getshome!”

“Oh darn it,” thinks Bruce “I don’t wanna get grounded. I better head back.”

As Bruce is extricating himself from behind a large thicket he steps on a mossy area of ground that seems that makes an odd creakingsound.

“Huh?” the young boy has time to wonder before the creaking becomes a shattering crack and the ground disappears from beneath hisfeet. “Mom……………………………….!” He yells, while the light and the world vanish, as he plummets into darkness. The fall lastsfor just a few brief seconds… Bruce, thankfully, will not remember the jarring landing that renders him unconscious.



Martha heard that. Where did it come from? “Bruce? Bruce! Come on honey tell mommy where you are. Are you okay?” Marthaknows. She is a mother and she knows. She knows her son is anything but… OK.

By the time Thomas raced home Martha was frantic. “I checked in all his usual hidey holes Tom… I’m scared… what if someone hastaken him?” By someone Tom knew exactly what she meant. Over the years C.C, had done his best to shield them from any reprisalsSivana might concoct… but let’s be honest… a madman with a grudge is a dangerous combination.

“Have you called C.C.?” he asks calmly.

“Of course… All I got was his machine… I left about a dozen messages… Oh honey, what if it is that old psycho and this is how hegets his revenge…. Oh…oh...oh.” Martha sobs in her husband’s arms.

“Let’s go take another look Martha” Thomas needs to approach this rationally… or he is afraid he might start shaking from the anxietyand mounting paranoia. “Maybe with both of us looking we’ll find something… it’s too much for one parent to think, worry andlook… they won’t be able to process what they are seeing. Let’s work together.”

With that, the Waynes went out searching their back property. They went deeper than they usually go… deeper than Bruce had any

business going… if he wasn’t so darned fearless that is. Thomas wonders… isn’t there a…

“Oh god no!” he realizes.

“What?” Martha jumps. “What is it?”

“Do you remember the survey of this back lot?” He asks his wife. “The old boarded up dry-well?”

“My god…. Hurry Tom….” and off Martha raced.

Within moments they located the old well. It only took a single glance to know that Bruce has fallen through the obviously rottedcover. A parent never wants to experience this kind of numbing fear. The knowledge, that your child could be dead, can paralyze.Thomas Wayne leaned over the opening of the well and peered into its murky depths.





“Bruce! Can you hear me, Bruce? Are you down there?” His mom shouts into the darkness. “Bruce!”

“I’m down here mom! Help me!” Bruce shouts back with happiness and relief.

The shrieking is getting louder now and coming closer.

“Mom, something is down here I am scared. Mom hurry up I want get out… mom!” Bruce’s voice is starting to sound panicked andterrified. Martha looks over shoulder, back towards the house, and hollers. “Thomas, hurry he’s down there and he’s crying for help!”

Thomas Wayne, rope and flashlights in hand, starts sprinting back to the well. He never could imagine feeling so happy his child wasstuck in a well… what a weird thought.

Bruce can hear the creepy things coming to get him. Suddenly something flaps in the air near him. Oh they are horrible! “Mom, dad… please help me!”

Martha and Tom can hear their son’s cries. “What could be down there?” they say in unison. Martha laughs… you owe me a colawhen this is done.” Thomas stares at her for a moment as if she had suddenly grown two heads. Then he got it. “Ha… ha… that’s very

funny Carol Burnett. Let’s skip the canned laughs and get the kid okay?” He squeezes her hand for comfort and smiles.“Yes, let’s do that big guy” she hasn’t called him that since they were in school.

He leans over the pit and yells in his loudest voice “okay Bruce, dad’s coming down, just a few more minutes little guy and you’ll besafe and sound.”

His dad’s voice carried through the cavern and the shrieking turned into a deafening roar.

“Daddy…” Bruce tries to yell but is drowned out by the noise of so many creatures… so many of the flying screaming, horrible… bats! Hundreds maybe thousands of bats swarm through the cavern racing towards the new opening. Bruce could never have imaginedsuch monsters… they were everywhere. They buffeted him… landed on him… knocked him to the ground and then continued in their frenzied flight towards the noise and the new opening.



Thomas and Martha could hear a horrible rushing sound coming from deep in the well. Then, suddenly, a black cloud of screaming bats burst forth from the well forcing them to back away and take cover. The Waynes knew their son must be terrified of these ugly

disease ridden creatures. “God, I hope they’re not rabid” thinks Thomas.

“Hey folks, I think I just might be of some assistance. What’s going on?” The cheerful booming voice of Captain Marvel could beheard as the bats begin to scatter and disperse.

“Oh thank God C.C. you got the message” blurts Martha… oblivious to the usage of his secret identity.

“Well, yes… ahem” Captain Marvel points at his uniform.

“Oops sorry Captain, I’m just frazzled. First we couldn’t find Bruce and then we discover he’s fallen into this old well! Please couldyou get him?” Martha pleads, unnecessarily.

“Of course Martha… Tom… I am just glad that I can help. Tom you take care of her, while I scoot down and get yer boy alright?” TheCaptain says hoping that Bruce hasn’t suffered any serious injury. “I’ll be back in a flash!”

“Hah,” he thinks “if Jay were still in the biz he’d rake me over the coals for using one of his catch-phrases….”Captain Marvel floats down toward the bottom of the old well looking for Bruce.

Bruce can hear again. He doesn’t think anything could ever be okay again though. He is traumatised and begins to withdraw intohimself. Inside, inside… nothing will be able to reach him or hurt him… inside.

The Captain descends. He can see Bruce clearly now. The boy is in shock.

“Bruce, it’s alright. You’re safe now. We can go home.” He says as warm and soothing as he can.

The boy looks up. It is a vision. Like an Angel from heaven… his hero, Captain Marvel is bathed in light and comes to save him.Bruce uses his stubbornness, his strength of will, to win the first of what will be many battles with his body. He forces himself toshake off the numbing effects of shock and rises to his feet. He can see his hero land just a few feet away and rushes into his arms.



Marvel starts to fly up and out of the well to safety and Bruce looks

at him with a question burning in his child’s mind. “Yes, Bruce,what is it?” he asks.

“Why? Why are there monsters in the dark?” Bruce simple heartwrenching honesty almost starts Marvel crying. The boy has beenthrough too much. Still, Marvel knows, he needs an answer.

“They aren’t really monsters… they are animals… they wouldn’ttry to hurt you unless they felt threatened.” He tells Bruce.

“But they are scary” the boy argues. “I mean really scary!”

“Yes,” says the boy’s godfather, “bats can be very scary… in factI’d say they possess the ability to strike fear into the hearts of men .”

“Now let’s get you home and safe, okay?”

“Okay, uncle C.C.” the boy smiles and lays his head on Marvel’schest. He shakes his head, more amused than anything really. Herealizes he’s gonna have to start working a lot harder on the wholesecret identity thing. Captain Marvel looks up as he flies away fromthe darkness.

“I am getting too old for this…”

By David Marshall



Non-Fiction Futurism in the Funnies - by Roy G. JamesRoy G. James, artist, writer, co-creator of the RKYV concept and all around knowledgeable comic book guy… published the following essaymany years ago. With his permission we at RKYV are proud to present it to all of you… the RKYV readers, contributors and staff in thisserialized format. It deals with the predictive and perhaps even formative impact that popular literature, specifically comic books, has had on thedevelopment of emergent science and technologies

“Would you tell me, please, which way to go from here? ”“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the cat.

“ I don’t much care…” said Alice;“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the cat.

- - ALICE IN WONDERLANDRationale and Purpose:

The little episode above from “Alice in Wonderland” has to do with direction,

purpose and destination. This is so very applicable to us, as members of the humanrace and as educators; we ought to know where we’re going, how to get there andwhy we want to go there. We have always been concerned with the future perhaps

because it is such a constant source of fascination. We hope that the future has moredesign than that expressed by Alice.

The future is now because the future begins now. The popular button mottoexpresses the point a little differently, “Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life.” Therefore, it is important to look at what we know about the future, what wehold for the future, and what the experts say about the future in that we might seek that direction and plan that design.

One of the sources of considerable credibility for at least catching glimpses of thefuture is the works of literature inclusive of the comic book medium. The comic

book has the added dimension of multiple illustrations to highlight the printed word.

By Roy G. James



It is the predictive element of the comic book that is the subject of this essay.By way of comparison, upon the occasion of the Apollo II manned moonshot Look Magazine looked to Jules Verne’s “From the Earthto the Moon.” Keep in mind that Jules Verne (1828-1905) managed in his novels and stories to anticipate an uncanny number of modern technological wonders: submarines, airplanes, television --- and space travel. He was no Alice in Wonderland.

“Man’s imagination thrust him towards the stars long before his rockets could --- Verne’s books spread the 19 th century gospel of emergent technology around the Western world, beguiling generations with the dream of progress --- Verne’s long-ago version offers

some intriguing resemblances to the reality of today’s headlines. ”

- - A. N. Kontaratos, “The Amazing 1865 Moon Shot of Jules Verne,”Look, May 1969, p. 74.

Futurism or Futurology?

Before I embark into the comic book world I would like to satisfy a compulsion to clarify a few definitions. As man accumulates moreknowledge he creates corresponding language; as a result new words spring up and they all seem to end in “-ism”, “-ology”, or “-ic”.The glossary at the back of this essay [ Editor’s note: for ease of reference selected glossary entries in this serialized edition willbe included at the end of each installment ] is provided for reference and to further illustrate the additions to an already complicatedvocabulary. This vocabulary is an integral part of the comic book world. All is not grunts and groans. An ic is the art or the knowledgeof; an ism is the beliefs, teachings, or system of; an ology is a science or a branch of learning.

This brings up the problem of whether the future, or at least the study of the future, belongs in the category of ism or ology. Is it

“futurism” or “futurology”?

Alvin Toffler in his book “Future Shock” often refers to “futurism” yet never uses the term “futurology”. He says:

“The management of change is the effort to convert certain possibles into probables, in pursuit of agreed-on preferables. Determining the probable calls for a science of futurism. Delineating the possible calls for an art of futurism. Defining the preferable calls for a

politics of futurism. ”



- - Alvin Toffler, Future Shock, (New York: Random House Inc., 1970-71), p.460

However, the Britannica World Language Dictionary’s definition of “Futurism”(see glossary) refers solely to an art movement at the turn of the twentiethcentury. The key words in that definition are “dynamic” and “movement bysimultaneity”, certainly elements in change.

Another major dictionary carries the aforementioned art movement but includes“futurology” (see glossary) referring to it as an art and a science, supporting theology suffix, or, perhaps, even the ic suffix. Yet, one might tend to agree withToffler’s choice of suffix as something not yet nailed down. An ism involves

beliefs and teachings, seemingly a might more nebulous than a more definedology.

Glossary (mostly selected from “New Words from Merriam-Webster”sections of Compton Yearbooks.

Futurism

Italian abstract painting (1911-15) concerned with “dynamic” aspects of life

and the attempts express movement by simultaneity, which gave differentviews of an object in the same part are, superimposed on each other.

Futurology

The art or practice of making forecasts about future developments in scienceand technology and their effect upon society.

Nude Descending a Staircase No 2 - by Marcel Duchamp(1912)



Entwined - by Wade FerrisEnjoy Your Carbon - by Marc Ngui





Layers of cold air have been incorporated into the crust, and the heat of the oven is necessary toexpand this air quickly, and so make the crust light.

Pie Shells - Bake shells for cream pies, lemon pies, etc., in a hot oven (400 f.).Bake tart shells at the same temperature.Double Crusted - Bake pies in a hot oven (450 f.).

Once your pastry is complete and rolled out, place carefully into pie tray, fill with your choice of filling and bake for10 min.

Pumpkin Pie - Single shell ( 400 f.)Cherry Pie - Double crust (450 f.) Basket top (weave slices of the pie crust over top)Apple Pie - Double crust (450 f.) Cover top with shell, using knife, cut star or X shapes into surface to ventilate.

In ten minutes, desert is ready. It may sound like a lot of work but it's not. I made a cherry pie with my grandfather and it took only amatter of minutes to prepare, put together and bake. It was a lot of fun and should be done as a family, great bonding experience withyour kids parents! Give it a try.

Sherril Anne Tucker, first airbrush paintingA still life - by Lee-Ann Marie Macdonald



My Journal - by Amanda Fortin Wow, the power of possession. Holding a key that symbolizes freedom and happiness

but the happiness and freedom is put on hold due to moving issues that with hold you fromthe joys of moving into your new apartment. That's right, I have my key but can't move inuntil I have the means. I could attempt to carry the furniture on my back but then whatgood will it be when I find myself stuck on the side of the road beneath a sofa. Not a

pleasant picture. Well, depends on who is picturing it I am sure.

At this moment I sit in a chair that was next to a guy that was sneezing, coughing and

blowing germs everywhere, my kids are reading and requesting we do this, that and theother thing and I have 21 minutes remaining to say my peace, so here it is. It is great to behome. It is great to see those that have meant the world to me all these years. Family,friends and yes, pets. It's great to have everything that was so familiar to me in the past

back on track and my joy restored. It's great to finally be where I belong. I live only a walk from the library where the kids can enjoy family readings on Saturdays at 10:30 and the

park where my husband and I said our I do's (which we were supposed to say, I will) is justdown the road and everything is all falling into place so as it stands, I could attempt tocarry everything on my back but maybe it's best I just be patient, enjoy the company of mymom and dad and move when the time is right.

Soon I shall be home. Soon I shall be happier than ever but new things arise. My husband andmother approached me regarding a possible job for my husband. It sounds great but one

problem....aside from the $$$ he would be making, earning and free to spend, the loneliness of him living in Newfoundland for the summer is what eats me up inside. I married that man to bewith him, not be apart from him. What a terrifying decision I must make. Loving someone is sodifficult. So, until next time.....I'm in taking it slow! Day by day only time can tell what the futureholds.

Brad and I - by Lee-Ann Marie MacdonaldGavinAge 2

by

Lee-AnnMarieMacdonald



Pop Culture With the writer’s strike entering it’s 13 th week, networks are scrambling for

programming. CBS is interested in picking up “Dexter”, which is my favourite seriesfrom Showtime. Several networks are in meetings with Canadian productioncompanies to buy series that are currently in production. The new series “The Border”is one that they consider to have a high enough production value and content that willinterest American viewers. For more info see:

http://www.nationalpost.com/story.html?id=268205

There is also a deluge of (shudder) reality shows. In order to avoid beingaccidentally addicted to one of these atrocities... try” The Sarah Conner Chronicles” onMonday nights...I have been pleasantly surprised by the great storytelling and good

acting on this show. Lost Season 4 premieres this Thursday Jan. 31. Jericho, the showsaved by nuts(literally), premieres on Feb 12 and Battlestar Galactica is showingseason 4 on Space. If you haven’t been following these shows, you can rent all the

previous seasons. I highly recommend these three series. Everyone cross your fingersthat this strike will be over soon!

Cass - by Santiago London

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