A diary by means of a collage by means of a cartoon. Verbose explication in the comments. Arriving fresh Mondays. read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
"The Death Of Stalin" (2017), directed by Armando Iannucci. This satire is brutally funny, as well as downright brutal, and the parallels between 'Soviet then' and 'United States now' are seriously chilling. The closing scene, in which Stalin's daughter is exiled to Vienna, to be separated from her unpredictable brother for whom she felt an obligation of care, is couched in the dialog in this strip: This is how people get killed. When their stories don't fit.It's a film in which scores of people are casually shot, onscreen and off, with a kind of breakneck speed and often accompanied by quickly distributed (and feared) compiled lists of 'enemies', and to know that Alliluyeva lived in a fair amount of cognitive dissonance around how this worked, somehow makes her fate a tiny little slice of poignant.This dialog struck me as essential Latent Oatsian, and I had originally seen it as a strip of four frames from the film. Something about putting the final words in Iannucci's mouth hit me last minute, though, and I ended up making a version of a traditional format. Armando turned into a sinister-looking Harvey Pekar, however, as opposed to enigmatic, sage-like Eno.The Pharm Life frame became a representation of a Karyotype. I don't recall what made me think of that, but there was some parallel in my head between Beriya's infamous lists (the blind chance of a small word on a piece of paper full of words that decided one's fate) and the line of code on a chromosomal profile (similarly prophetic, similarly disinterested).This may have to do with the baffling randomness by which the Novel Corona virus kills some people, passes by others. We've recently seen that some people for whom it apparently passes by are now developing fatal neurological conditions, so, it's the gift that keeps on giving when it comes to not knowing what to expect next. And then there's the Murder Hornets.Grasping at straws, I saw a Giacometti in the first frame - don't know why. And when I searched for an image, I came across this depiction of an arm (I'm guessing it's a depiction of 'La Main'-1947). It seemed to fit, this feeble, disconnected reach.