Written, pencilled, inked by: Heath P. Lail
Hey folks...I'm pooped. Just thought I'd drop in and say I hope everyone had a safe, fun Halloween Eve--or Samhain, if you are so inclined;) May you all sleep well tonight and wake refreshed in the mornin'...
Written by: Heath Parker Lail
Pencilled/Inked by: Stephen R. Bissette
Hey folks. Lemme welcome you to a special fill-in issue of Clerk's Cafe. I've been going strong for a while now, so I decided to have my ol' buddy Steve Bissette come in and do the art chores this time 'round. Here's one of Steve's pages that he sent me the original of...hope you all enjoy! Later
Written, pencilled, inked by: HPL
Well, I just got through my first movie of the Halloween Movie Season--the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre from the 70s. It's humorous...my Dad is an ex-Marine and he has said on multiple occassions that he will not watch that movie because it is too much for him; conversely, I rather enjoyed it. This was a strange movie...it was grainy and stank of realism, two things that today's remakes and blockbusters lack. Today, filmmakers seek to entertain the movie masses through CGI effects and hyper-reality plots.
This movie was simply--visceral. The context I use that word in is this...after watching it I realized why it affected my Dad in the way it did--the movie just seems so damn real. It seemed like if you and four friends are out in the backwoods and start exploring, you might stumble upon such a situation in reality, and the end results would be the same as the fate suffered by the kids in the movie. There was no blood-splattering gorefest scenes or slow strangulations with bulging eyes...they were literally rendered unnecessary by the reality of the damn thing. All I can say, is if you haven't seen this movie, check it out. You will be entertained. You will be scared. You will be suprised by the blunt-force trauma this flick will inflict on your senses. More to come...
H
Written, pencilled, inked by: HPL
Hey folks. I survived my tour of duty in Unit West, and made new friends in the process. In fact, I've considered taking a few hours more for a woman who's going on vacation next week. But that juicy stuff is for when I have more time and energy;) for now, it's good to be home.
H
Written, pencilled, inked by: HPL
I found my Holy Grail today...Miracleman #15 in Near Mint/Mint condition--and I bought it:)
Hope everyone else finds their day as productive as mine:)
H
Written, pencilled, inked by: HPL
Hullo again, folks. So far I'm at least semi-daily on keeping y'all informed as to my daily comings and goings. Just wanted to drop you a small piece of a story I've been working on...its called "Sector 31: UW". Enjoy
"...and I came upon the massive building complex, layered in brick and mortar. I had been there, years before--but this time things were very different. Windows were shattered out, the front doors lay ajar and there was a faint smell of something I should have remembered but couldn't seem to place. I walked up to the doors...though they had seemed broken from afar, I realized that I needed my keys to enter the complex. I was probably the only person who had these keys anymore. Glancing around one last time, I unlocked the front bolt with a resounding thud.
As I stepped inside, I began to recall memories of that place...faces whose names I could no longer recall seemed to smile at me from the corners of darkness in the main lobby. Someone had called me here--why, I didn't know; but I was sure that the person would reveal themself and their intentions soon enough. I slid past furniture that hadn't been used in 15 years...ever since the accident that closed this place down. A strange fog seemed to permeate the the entire building, as though my opening the door had let the outside world in for the first time in almost two decades. There on the lobby desk lay a open ledger, but the cleanliness of the book proved that it was much newer than anything else in this place, as though it was only purchased a few weeks earlier. Everything else seemed ancient in its design. I eased over to the ledger...there was a name written there--mine. In blood. Human blood at that. Suddenly the lobby phone rang; once, twice, then stopped abruptly. I heard the front door slam shut as a gust of wind grabbed hold of it. If I had kept my entering a secret, it was now definitely a secret no longer. I decided to be proactive and search for whomever had called me to this site, rather than simply waiting around for a grand revealing. I called the elevator, and suprisingly heard a thud as the car slid down towards the lobby doors...."
To Be Continued--
Written, pencilled, inked by: Heath Parker Lail
Well I've survived (so far) 175 previous issues. I've lost lovers, friends, regained said friends and added a new (hopefully-long term) subscriber and friend to the mag. I'm tired tonight but I just wanted to tell you all that I am chinking away at these guys, one or two at a time. Whenever possible, I pull them to the side and talk to them for 5-10 minutes about why they need to reform and try to reenter society as productive citizens. I think I'm making headway with a few of them. I try not to talk down to them (though I personally dislike dumbing my way of speech down I understand these are KIDS) and give them positive steering, peppered with a lil advice from my own life when relevant.
In other Parkwood news, I'm being put on the West Unit on Monday from 3P-11P. Entering the West Unit can best be described like entering the sleepy little video-game town of Silent Hill. Creepy, shrouded in mystery and fog, and you might just not make it out alive. Why you ask? Oh, the West Unit is just the Psychotic Adult Unit. It's only the guys seeing things on the wall and such--the real creepy-crawlies and hidden dangers of Parkwood Hospital. Cross your fingers that I don't meet my personal Hannibal Lecter Monday evening...otherwise, should be fun;)
Well, more to come in the days ahead...even if I do not post again until then, I will post of my adventures in Unit West late Monday night as it promises to be different than my experiences thus far. I wouldn't recommend letting the kids stay up to read the Journal that night...it might contain PG-13, NC-17 or perhaps even XXX-rated contents. Sleep well...
H
Written, pencilled, inked by : Heath P. Lail
Welcome, one and all to the special 75th Anniversary Issue of Clerk's Cafe! What's that? You say that if it had been around for 75 years I'd be 100 years old (and more than likely writing this post-humously)? Oh well friends, let me clarify....it is not the 75th Anniversary of this Journal--it is in celebration of the 75th Anniversary of Bela Lugosi's stunning performance of the legendary bloodsucker in 1931's "Dracula". I bought this movie last night at Wal-Mart...I knew I was going to be home sick today so I figured I might as well enjoy my illness as much as possible by watching a good flick I'd never seen. It came down between Dracula and the 75th Ann. Edition of Frankenstein, with actor Boris Karloff in that title role. After watching this movie and enjoying it in grand fashion, I think that Franky might come home with me as well, in order to complete the collection (Universal's Legacy Series).
I enjoy horror stories...my dating life thus far has been one (insert rimshot). Seriously, though. I have always heard that these movies are classic for one reason or another, but have never seen either of them. As soon as I popped the disc in, I could tell I was in for a treat (though I did think it funny that while most animated movies do not warrant a change in the Level Settings of my PS2, a film from 1931 that is tame caused me to up the level to view). The menu had a great snippet of the score playing while a massive picture of Lugosi glares out at viewers. Though most people point and laugh at old films such as this, I enjoy watching black and white productions from time to time though I do chuckle and chortle as well at the campiness of some things. Watching old films and newsreels in B&W gives our generation a gimpse into the movies while they were still conssidered "magic". There was an aura of imagination and fiction to these stories, unlike today's movies where we want to find "perfect love" (never happen in a million years, kids...trust me) or action heroes who do things most guys would never be able to do when dropped into the same situation with exactly the same tools at their disposal. Don't get me wrong--I enjoy current movies as well as the next guy or gal...but watching old stuff just takes you back to a time and place that no longer exists.
Anyway, the movie has been restored remarkably well considering its age and there are no pops,dark moments or any visible defects that I can tell after viewing it. The other great thing about old movies is, they are incredibly short. I think this whole movie ran maybe an hour, tops. No three and four hour Titanics or Lord of the Rings here. These movies were straight and to the point, though they included a lot of pomp and flair into these short productions. There was something that is missing from most current flicks--actual acting. You can feel the emotion put out by these actors...it is more than reading lines, grabbing throats and getting the maximum amount of shock value from viewers. Instead, it is slower and more intimate (and like I said, at an hour it is over reasonably quick if you do decide you hate it). These actors wanted you to feel the intensity of the moment rather than simply say "Oh he's dead...just watch...it's over for him...". They wanted you to care about the characters more than anything else--they loved playing these parts, and thought you should love their bits as much as they did.
I'm going off on a tangent, I can tell...its the meds I think lol All I can say sit down and watch this movie sometime. Even if you laugh all the way through it and never experience a quiet moment because of the "bit acting", then it'll all be over in an hour and you can say that you've seen one of the greatest classic horror movies of all time. AND you had fun. And isn't that what movies are all about?
Til next time...I remain
Heath P. Lail
Written, pencilled, inked by: HPL
99 bottles of Nyquil on the wall, 98 bottles--hic--of Nyquil...97, or was it 95 ah who gives a shiiii......
Written, pencilled, inked by: Heath P. Lail
Hullo folks. I had a great issue 173 lined up the other day but got to talking to Joy and it may now be gone forever. That's ok, though...I've notes on it and it may be the subject for the ever-approaching anniversary issue 175--or it may not, as it doesn't seem quite as relevant in my life as it did at the time. Anywho...
I went with a bunch of friends last night to see The Marine with John Cena, famous for his portrayal as the Numero Uno Wigger in the World Wrestling Entertainment Co. I would have rather gone to see TCM:The Beginning, but once I got into the movie I was hooked. John was doing an excellent job, and the actress that played his wife was quite easy on the eyes so I began to enjoy it. Well, about an hour after the movie started and was starting to get REALLY GOOD, the screen goes blank and the house lights go up.
A Malco staffer comes in to tell us it is a slight projection problem, just give em 5 minutes and all will be right in the world (at least as far as the movie was concerned;). Well, ten minutes later, another hapless lackey enters from the other side to tell its coming...just five more minutes. By this time we are getting a lil bit upset, as we paid our five bucks to get into this moth-eaten "Theatre" to sit down and watch a movie that the projector doesn't seem to get along with. After yet another 5 minutes, the head lackey appears and tell everyone that the projector has died, and that the viewing is cancelled. We have two choices...we can go see another movie or we can go back out into the cold dark night and wait 30 minutes in line to get our refund. My friend Brian and I decided to get refunds, so his whole crew decided they would wait in the car while froze our asses off getting a refund. Nice, huh? Anyway, I told Brian that we should go inside and get our refund and once inside we found that we weren't the only ones not willing to wait outside while our internal organs and blood froze, making us zombies. Eventually, they opened the other box office just for refunds and we were able to go home. Actually, they went to Huddle House in Olive Branch but I was tired and I think I've caught a spot of this "bug" that seems to be going around so I went back home. The theatre offered to let us watch another viewing of The Marine but I was skeptical at the least...the night after Friday the 13th, the projector breaks and you want me to go re-watch the first hour of a movie, all the while hoping that THIS projector doesn't break at some point? No thanks.
I DID have an enjoyable evening, overall. It allowed me to go out with some friends and have a little fantasy rather than the harsh reality I will be presented with the next 6 days. I love my job, but honestly, the little things most of us take for granted (like going to movies, dates, reading, etc.) now shine in my mind as important because they allow us to escape the rigors of reality for a little while and simply enjoy ourselves. Hopefully everyone has had a great weekend, and I'll catch y'all on the flip side.
H
Written, pencilled, inked by: Heath P Lail
Hullo, folks. Just thought I would swing by the Cafe and see what's hangin', as well as update everyone on my first week of ASOP duty, a Funeral for a Friend, and more.
Well, I started the ASOP Unit at Parkwood this week. I am of course sworn to confidentiality in regards to names and indentifying remarks, as these kids may one day sucessfully assimilate back into the general populace. If that were to happen and they read incriminating remarks on this lovely Internet, well...things could look bleak for ol' Heath's chances of being the Doctor of Psychology that Miss Brooke is always telling him he will be one day. Anywho...overall, I think I shifted into the job itself rather easily. It is quite different from my last two jobs, where the hardest part was dealing with some gap-toothed rednecks screaming about the lack of Red Man snuff (@ the Grocery Store...it made me wanna snuff them out:) or "NAS-Car" ( The Comics Shop/Fan Merchandise Store)--by the way, it is physically impossible to reproduce here the sound effect made by a NASCAR fan when they try to actually annunciate the word NASCAR. It, much like the Rebel Yell has been lost to the Mists of Time. Don't get me wrong, that Mists of Time store has some neat shit, but the correct pronunciation of NASCAR is not among their often-browsed items.
Moving on...I have been told repeatedly that the kids have gone easy on me this week. I don't know how to react to that statement, because the last two nights of this shift, one kid acted out both nights and Friday night we were forced to call an MAB. We thought we were gonna have to restrain the kid in the Quiet Room last night but he finally pulled himself together. Most of the kids seem to respect my physical presence, though I am somewhat short-statured. I learned this in earnest last night when I simply walked around the Dayroom during the MAB. As soon as I came out of the back hallway where the restraint bed lays, the room was hushed and the kids just kinda stared at me...I never knew I could command that kind of authority, but it felt nice to be respected that way. I usually have a rather fast gait and short step, but I walked slowly around them last night--maybe they picked up on my attitude.
So far, my 4 kids have behaved themselves for the most part and have been courteous. One kid bothers me because he has an intense stare. He appears calm during these periods, but it is almost one of those "I'm looking at something you can't see" stares, and those can get a person in quite a bit of trouble out in the real world. It only lasts a few seconds, but I'm trying to help him with it. Another kid is constantly on FOCUS, which means he must be doing SOMETHING to stay there (or perhaps he is in-between Level Reviews...I'll check his charts when I go in Tuesday). FOCUS is effectively the "Dunce Hat" place in the ASOP hierarchy. If one is in FOCUS, it means he is relegated to staring at the wall and has fewer speaking priviledges than the Basic, Level 1, Level 2, etc. folks. The Level Systems and Point Systems are for another night--too much to get into now, and I haven't mastered the Points Sys. quite yet. The third kid is kinda hyper, and seems to feed off attention like a leech is drawn to a powerfully-scented food source. Other than that, he seems to be somewhat normal...though we all know he isn't if he ended up at ASOP. The last guy is generally helpful and mostly gets in trouble for speaking out of turn or without raising his hand. I keep meaning to grab their individual charts and read them while they are sleeping (after 9:30 PM) so I can find out what landed each of them in the program but I forget every night, and once I'm on door duty, I cannot leave my post for any reason short of the Wicked Witch shooting lightening bolts outside our cottage. I will do that Tuesday though because I'm genuinely interested in helping these kids as much as possible. That's the short version of my job...more to come (Points/Level Systems, etc.). Oh one last bit of info...these kids are all between 12-17 and one kid has double-digit offences against him. Isn't that scary if you plan on having kids?
Also, I had to attend a funeral today. My friend Alicia Barbour's husband Anthony was killed in a car wreck Monday night. He left behind a 24-year old widow with a broken leg (from a horse tossing her two weeks ago) and a beautiful little boy, Collyn. He was 24, and was taken far too soon. Things like this always make me remember my own mortality, as I have had my fair share of crashes over the years. I am taking up donations for Alicia, as she will be off from work for at least the next few weeks but life (and bills) still go on. Rest in Piece, Walter Anthony Barbour, Jr. You will be sorely missed, but I know you are up in Heaven, and we will see you again one day.
In closing tonight, I would like to recommend a book I bought today, and thanks to the relative shortness of the book as well as my voracious reading appetite (both a boon and a bane:( I finished tonight. It is The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, and it clocks in at only 167 pages. It tells of Santiago, a simple shepard who seeks a great treasure that was fortold would be his, but along the way he learns many lessons. These lessons are far more valuable than the treasure he seeks--while treasure makes one rich, it does necessarily teach the holder of such wealth lessons of wisdom or morality. It cannot teach a heart how to expand, or help one experience true growth in far away countries. For example, while being rich can get you to Europe, what if your riches vanished upon your arrival in Rome? Would you have the heart to pick yourself up and build the necessary means to return home by working inn a lowly position and saving every penny and dime (or Franc and Euro, I suppose)? Then, if you managed to rebuild your wealth (or exceed it), would you simply tuck tail and run home to the comfortable or would you seek adventure? This book chronicles the growth of young Santiago, and is one of the best books I've read in quite awhile. Highly recommended.
G'night folks. Sleep well and remember to let those you love know the depth of your concern every day you wake up.
-H
