i was thinking how the world should have cried on the day jack kirby died
Yeah, yeah. I have oodles to post about. Wanna see my blingy new yarn, black with green sequins? Wanna see my new green Namaste knitting bag, that I am soooo happy I got from my favorite enablers as it prevented me from making the carpetbagger bag from that IK last fall or whenever that has the cocksucking intarsia on it? Wanna see the hat I gave to my nail lady or the socks I finished or the pluckyfluff Beetlejuice mitts?
Yeah, me too. Alas, I'm also far too fucking lazy to grab the camera phone next to me and take pictures in the dim light of my furniture-less bedroom (I'm in DC this week).
So right now I'm going to talk about Jack Kirby.
Twelve years ago today, Jack Kirby died. There was mourning in my house.
I met Jack Kirby as a five year old girl at comic book conventions. I collected Spider-Man and there, in front of me, was the creator. He was so nice to an awestruck little girl who was told that she was about to meet God. At the time, I had a kitten and I named him Jack. He was a silver and black tiger cat. He was a wonderful cat.
Years later, when I got another kitten who was a silver tabby, I named him Jack, after both Jack the cat and Jack Kirby. (By they way, I am talking about Beans, his real name is Jack, but The Man Who Lives in the House renamed him.)
Too few people know of Jack Kirby today. They all know who Stan Lee is. There's sadess and a little irony in that.
If I ever could master the cocksucking intarsia, I'd like to do a Kirby cover. Perhaps Daredevil.
And I apologize in advance if I end up with two tribute-y posts in one week, but February 8th is a big day for me as well. Someone should be able to guess why. Anyone?
Yeah, me too. Alas, I'm also far too fucking lazy to grab the camera phone next to me and take pictures in the dim light of my furniture-less bedroom (I'm in DC this week).
So right now I'm going to talk about Jack Kirby.
Twelve years ago today, Jack Kirby died. There was mourning in my house.
I met Jack Kirby as a five year old girl at comic book conventions. I collected Spider-Man and there, in front of me, was the creator. He was so nice to an awestruck little girl who was told that she was about to meet God. At the time, I had a kitten and I named him Jack. He was a silver and black tiger cat. He was a wonderful cat.
Years later, when I got another kitten who was a silver tabby, I named him Jack, after both Jack the cat and Jack Kirby. (By they way, I am talking about Beans, his real name is Jack, but The Man Who Lives in the House renamed him.)
Too few people know of Jack Kirby today. They all know who Stan Lee is. There's sadess and a little irony in that.
If I ever could master the cocksucking intarsia, I'd like to do a Kirby cover. Perhaps Daredevil.
And I apologize in advance if I end up with two tribute-y posts in one week, but February 8th is a big day for me as well. Someone should be able to guess why. Anyone?
posted by itgirl at 11:59 PM
8 Comments:
I presume you are familiar with this blog? http://jackkirbycomics.blogspot.com/
Well, I fully understand your feelings about the cocksucking intarsia, but that carpetbaggerbag is fucking great. So what to do?
And an intarsia comic cover bag? Dude.
The comic cover bag would be awesome. And it would be a lovely tribute. I saw a documentary type thingy not too long ago about him. It's so sad when a great one falls. But he left behind such great art, he won't be forgotten.
:)
Have you ever seen this guy's stuff? Craziness. (Be sure to scroll all the way down for the embroidered comic book covers.)
Anniversary related to work?
On February 8th, Catherine the Great became the empress of Russia...
Oh, wait!!
February the 8th was the date that you and Matthew Lesko first "did it."
comic books + knitting = geeky love. That sounds excellent..except for all that f--ing intarsia.
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