The Badger Herald: ArtsEtc.: Apocalypse now in Gaiman comic

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Apocalypse now in Gaiman comic

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Also by Ben Freund:

Henry Vilas Zoo littered with fun (May 2, 2006)
Forgotten films, hungry children (February 28, 2006)
Comic examines sexuality perfectly (March 7, 2006)
Sugar-packed breakfast treat returning (March 21, 2006)

Tuesday, April 4, 2006 12:00 a.m.

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The apocalypse is coming. I know this because I looked at the cover of last week's Time magazine that advertised the imminent threat of global warming, embodied by the phrase "Be Worried. Be VERY Worried." I didn't read the article because after the front cover, most of the words were small and some of them were long and frankly not worth all the bother. I did giggle when I saw "emissions," but it turned out, on closer inspection, not to mean what I thought it did.

Actually, Time has a global warming issue about every five years, but this was the first time they used such big red letters to make the danger seem particularly shiny and seductive. And while the '87 cover was pretty frightening with a picture of a giant greenhouse encasing the Earth in its glassy death grip and '01 had a striking image of the earth as the yolk of a frying egg, '06 upped the ante with a photo of a lone polar bear on a dwindling ice floe. When I realized that the red meant "we're not kidding" and the polar bear meant "no more polar bears," I didn't know whether to panic or cry. I decided on both, then just crying, then a nap, then I woke up and panicked again with renewed vigor. It was a pretty good workout.

I was aware that global warming constituted a threat to the planet, but it was not until that exact moment that I made the connection that the planet is where polar bears come from. According to several 30-second documentaries I've viewed on the subject, their ostensibly-non-denominational-but-probably-Christian worship of peace and cola is the most adorable thing ever. I love them and I'm pretty sure they love me back, and I've been taking it pretty hard since I learned they're doomed to be swallowed by the ocean.

So, the End Times are nigh and Christmas commercial breaks are ruined in the bargain. What you need is something to put a positive spin on Armageddon, something to take you out of your funk so people will stop asking why you're crying all the time that you're not panicking or sleeping. No, not "Left Behind."

Recently republished in a new hardback edition for your convenience, "Good Omens" is co-written by internationally best-selling authors Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Gaiman has become tolerably close to a household name with creations like the "Sandman" comic book series and the novel "American Gods," as well as quite a few other works in various mediums mostly dealing with ancient mythology asserting itself in the modern world.

While Gaiman's style tends to the darker side, Pratchett is one of England's foremost satirists as well as one of the world's leading champions of orangutan preservation. His most popular creation is the Discworld, your basic stock fantasy world populated by characters who refuse to obey convention: supreme councils of wizards who invest most of their time in arguing about when their next meal is, trolls who come out from under the bridge to seek honest work as bouncers and a cowled skeletal personification of nature known as Death who has an affinity for cats and a growing sense of job dissatisfaction.

Death makes an appearance in "Good Omens" as do the rest of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, excepting Plague who has retired under the pressure of antibiotics and has been replaced by the far more dire Pollution. Do you see what I just did there? I totally brought the subject back to that Time magazine cover. How smooth was that?

Not as smooth as the pace of the book which follows low-ranking celestial representatives Aziraphale the angel, who wishes God's ineffable plan could be just a bit more effable, and Crowley the demon, who forgoes the old-fashioned methods of tempting priests into Lust and corrupting politicians with Greed in favor of causing every cell phone in London to malfunction simultaneously during peak hours as a more surefire path to wide-spread generation of Wrath.

Thanks to 6,000 years of Earthbound field work (6,000 being the generally agreed upon age of the universe, unless you are some kind of atheistic science-sucking killjoy), the two have grown used to each other and attached to humanity and its creations, such as salted eggs, vintage Bentleys and Best of Queen compilations and would just as soon not see it destroyed in a cataclysmic planet-scorching war between deities.

Their best hope of halting Armageddon is to destroy the antichrist, which is a bit of a challenge because the Child of the Beast was misplaced shortly after his birth and has grown up as a perfectly normal and likable eleven-year old boy, albeit with certain talents he doesn't understand and a predilection for stealing apples. In other words, not the sort of person you can feel good about murdering, especially if you're an angel. To find him before the seas run red with blood and the legions of heaven and hell stomp across the horizon with flaming swords, they need the assistance of a long-dead witch, the Nostradamus of her time who kept her prophecies to herself and passed them down her family line to ensure their security with cryptic stock tips and embarrassingly prescient romantic advice.

It may sound a little silly, but there's a reason why Gaiman sweeps up literary awards with everything he writes and why Pratchett, a humble fantasy author, has been dubbed a member of the Order of the British Empire (which is as close to knighthood as you can get without having to let elderly monarchs thrust swords near your neck). They're good, damn good and "Good Omens" is perhaps their most accessible creation. Buy it, get it from the library or break into my apartment and steal it. As long as this book ends up in your hands, you are guaranteed several hours of well-spent reading and a renewed sense of calm regarding the apocalypse.

Ben Freund has set up a secret End Times base in Madison stocked with firearms, frozen pizzas and malt liquor. To apply for his Earth repopulation program and a spot in his impregnable subterranean fortress, write him at bvfreund@gmail.com.

5 Comments | Leave a comment

Anonymous | April 4, 2006 12:04 PM | Reply
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Your articles make my brain hurt… I can’t even finish reading them, they’re that bad…

Anonymous | April 5, 2006 1:17 AM | Reply
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LoL. The polar bears are funny.

Anonymous | April 9, 2006 12:55 PM | Reply
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I disagree with the unenlightening non-constructive criticism of Anonymous no. 1. I suspect that, by “bad,” Anonymous no. 1 means “requires a reading level above second grade proficiency and an attention span beyond that of an 8-year old.” This theory would also explain why Anonymous no. 1’s brain hurts whenever she or he tries to read your writing. My recommendation is that Anonymous no. 1 stick to getting his or her cultural news from People Magazine.

Anonymous | April 12, 2006 5:49 PM | Reply
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to Anonymous #3 this sounds very close to the writing styles of the writer that makes me laugh. Just a suggestion, learn to take criticism, it’s part of writing. If you were a better one, you’d realize that.

Ben Freund | April 12, 2006 8:58 PM | Reply
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Nah, it’s not me, I got beef with nobody. Although I think ‘making your brain hurt’ is a complaint, not a criticism. Like, if you go to the doctor and tell him you’re sick, it’s not a criticism of your immune system and how it should suck less. It’s just you complaining.