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I bought this book at San Diego and I can say right
now that unless you have a really big obsession with
really bad, not good, BAD b-films don’t bother picking
this up. I don’t like bashing things, but I really
can’t help it with this book. The art is amateur, and
horribly flawed, which could be excused if the writing
was any good. The exposition is written in a horribly
forced manner, which conjured up images of William
Shatner. While some of the storytelling MIGHT, I
repeat MIGHT work for prose pieces, it comes out forced
in any medium with a visual component.
I must say the writing is really hit or miss. Mostly
it’s miss. No one talks about themselves or their
missions the way that most of the dialogue is written.
Well, maybe some of those weird people that talk about
themselves in the third person like they were god’s
gift to humanity do, but the vast majority of mankind
doesn’t. Everything reads in a stiff, wooden manner.
As for the art, it’s severely unpolished. Half of the
characters are indistinguishable facially, and the
anatomy makes everyone look as though they were a
short, stocky dwarf. Probably the most amusing art
fault however, is the female character’s breasts. I
swear to God, in one panel they look like butt cheeks
mounted on her chest. It’s obvious that there has
been no time spent trying to get anatomy right.
Overall, I say avoid this book like the plague. Five
pages into it I was groaning and asking myself how
much more of it I still had to go and the answer was,
much to my dismay . . . a lot.
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