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JBB: An Artblog!
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@kurtchristenson
Check out the comic THRUSTisHere
This is where it all begins.
Seven years later on tumblr. #firstpost
2015: COMICBOOK ROCKSTAR RADIO!Ā w/Kurt āKCāChristenson from EW.com
Just after I produced my first two live @kingscountycomics events I was offered a podcast recording at SiriusXM Studios in Times Square. I was working at Entertainment Weekly around the corner, just a few floors below the Marvel offices. Everything was coming up Millhouse in 2015!
Back in 2009 my first podcast @wearewriteclub was so much fun though I didnāt take it as serious since podcasts were barely out there as compared to now, though we were the first Brooklyn Comics Podcast, and one of the first comic podcasts on iTunes, which ended with my co-host Tim Mucci interviewing Alan Moore for Slice Magazine.
This time around I had an awesome engineer running the recording in a fancy studio, so I brought in everyone I knew for some airtime to help promote all these fantastic creatives around me. I thank them all endlessly for being guests on the show and helping me make my own launch into the creative freelance world by leaving EW when editorially it was taking a turn that didnāt feel right.
Two years later Iāve developed the first issue of @kingscountycomics as well produced several events all across Time & Space as THRUST!! my live event MC SuperHero self! Iām working towards bringing a more talk show video element as well a roving reporter in the field type content.Ā
COMICBOOK ROCKSTAR will be back in 2017! Stay Tuned!
(Kurt KC Christenson)
TWENTYSIX: The Kinetic Kid Blues A THRUSTisHere Short Story
"He's robbing the world of its magic!", the protester cried out one sunny morning outside the McAllister building. "Don't believe his lies!" I took a few seconds to gawk before unfolding my trusty spiral notebook from my back pocket. I jotted down, 'There's never a dull moment in this city of improbable possibilities', before zipping on down Forty-Second Street in a blur. I hit my last few deliveries and blew by the main office. I needed some cash and the bossman owed me big time. I looked over the cover story on the Post as I sat patiently for my pay to be scrounged together. The headline read: 'MILLIONAIRE MASTER OF MACHINES' and showed the slick image of Jordan McAllister unveiling his newest gizmo. Some useless wad of tech that could do everything from capturing audio and video to doing your taxes. Sure, it'd be nice to store every song I've ever heard into the same device that I make my monthly phone call to my mom with, but there should be some limit to these things. I was interrupted mid-ponder by the slapping of bills into my palm. "This should make us square kid. By the way, nice rush job on that McAllister drop off this afternoon. Not sure how you did forty blocks in fifteen minutes, but I admire that hustle Chuck." Joe Medley was the kind of boss people would follow into battle. A square jawed hombre hardened by a lifetime in the delivery business. If he would just shave that ridiculous moustache. I step outside and the thunder begins to pound on the grey skies above. An ominous smearing of the day's blue enormity. I slid on my glasses, retied my bandana and adjusted my cap before leaping off into the swirlling cityscape. A gentle flip off of a ledge and a swift pounce from a nearby flagpole and I was sent gliding along the metro-magnetic pulse. My mind caught hold as I soared through the streets, surfing the city's invisible veins faster than any pedestrian's eyes could follow. But not faster than hers. Helena, or Ms. Mercury as she refers to herself these days, came floating by as if I were swimming in slo-motion. Her faux innocence seeped from her sly stare. "Hey Charles." That damn slight curling up at the corner of her mouth. "Hey Helena." "Did you forget about tonight?" "Not yet. I'd remember open bar." "We have to see the exhibit this time. And try not to throw up on the V train again." "I'm not making any promises...are they going to have the little sandwiches this time?" "I'm not sure sweetie. Gotta run. See you at 7!" and with that, in a blink of an eye, she kisses my cheek and dissappears down 23rd St. I'm not sure if it's jealousy but I liked it better when she didn't have superpowers. We met outside the museum that night at 7:10. It's hard to believe any respectable superhero can make it on time to date, let alone two of them. We walked the exhibit arm in arm, and headed out for a drink. "It's great the things you can get free.", I shouted over the music at the lush Midtown bar. Some company or another had sent her a card for two complimentary drinks. Her sliver sandals shone brilliantly in the blurred cityscape light as it danced among the flapping of her black skirt. Her earrings sparkled as we blazed across town. Afterwards we zipped over to Jersey City where my friend's band were playing at a local bar. The sound rocked our internal organs and the cheap booze made us stumbly, so we decided to hoof it home like regular folk and leave the superpowers out of it for a night. The wait for the train is usually a panic inducing, claustrophobic, nightmare of a wait for one with speedy powers such as mine. But tonight I hardly noticed the thirty-nine minutes it took to finally come. We were finally Manhattan bound, when, after a few sloppy kisses and through slurred speech, she presented me with a gift. "It's an iWorld." She smiled up at me expectantly. My confused look elicited a further explanation. "It's the cell phone, instant messenger, mp3 player with GPS and a digital camera that also records video and audio." That druken haze in her eyes didn't match the tone of her voice. Suddenly, when discussing this gadget, a company salesman had taken control of my girlfriend. "Thanks baby." Something felt off, but I accepted the gift. I hugged my appreciation as we fumbled to the side nearly falling from our seats as the train screeched to a halt. As I activated the camera function on my new toy, I turned and snapped a picture of her as we ascended the subway stairs. The LCD screen caught the dramatic lighting of the moon as we stepped outside, illuminating her hair, draped alongside an inebriated smirk. As the days passed I tinkered with my new gizmo. Seems it truly does it all, which kicked in my suspicious nature. If this thing catches on like McAllister's numerous other expensive junk, available worldwide, then everyone will be capturing everything everywhere. Recording life around them and going back to it later to confirm it. Rather than just live our lives, we'd all just be directing a slideshow of images complete with soundtrack and then emailed off to family and friends. Isolated in our heads, viewing the world instead of interacting with it. Television is only the beginning. My head started to pound and my nose began to bleed. "Whoa, I gotta remember to watch the crazy talk.", I said to myself. The following Saturday Helena and I danced through the ballroom they call New York, spinning and leaping as we soared along with the city night frozen in an instant below us. I spun her out, but as she pounced from a traffic light, I saw a misstep. She began to arc too far as she twirled about like a whirling dervish, spinning wildly towards a display window. Instincts drove my body forward, letting my mind figure out the plan for itself. Two kicks had launched me towards the light post, and pausing horizontally for just a millisecond, I supercharged my next leap. I rocketed across the street, rotated as I skimmed across the hood of a taxi, and ricocheted off a mailbox, just catching her in my arms as she swooned and fainted. My feet grinded to a halt on the pavement, and instantly time popped all around me as my sneakers exploded into shrapnel. "What's happened to you Helena?" I cradled her in my arms as we glided home across the Williamsburg Bridge. She didn't wake until she was tucked in her bed. I applied the cold compress to her forehead and smiled down at her. She smiled back but it felt sad somehow. "How you doing kiddo?" I held her hand. "I'm fine. I just need some waffles..." she hoarsely whispered. "And OJ, and toast..." I kissed her hand as she drifted to sleep. I went to look for my iWorld to see what I could do. Once I found it, I couldn't imagine who to call, who would know how to help a sick superhero. She tossed and turned the whole night and despite her wishes, I decided to bring her to the emergency room. On the run there, she looked up at me with hopeless eyes. I never felt so useless. The doctors took her from me and told me not to worry and to get some rest. I couldn't sleep so I paced around the neighborhood, then jogged around the city and eventually ran the entire state. This wasn't something I could outrun. I grabbed a coffee at a rest stop somewhere in Pennsylvania. The caffeine wore off somewhere in Ohio and I slept on a bench in the lounge for an hour or two. I popped a caffeine pill and made it to Lake Michigan as the sun rose up behind me. My mind began to decompress as the tension drained from my body. Why was I running? What had happened to Helena? Why did I feel such overwhelming guilt? I took out my iWorld and began recording. I went over the details I could remember. Seemed as if I was stuck in a high gear for the past week. Oddly enough I wasn't able to produce many memories since that delivery to the McAllister building. I began to think of Helena and scrolled through the pictures I had taken of her. Over four hundred digital images were stored on the small piece of plastic in my hands. And as I flipped through I began to notice something. She was fading away. That very first picture showed Helena for the true beauty I knew her as. In each consecutive picture she looked weaker, her skin growing more pale, and that lovely smile never extending quite as far as it did that night. Was it this device? Was it me? I sprinted back to New York City, hit the library and began searching for anything related to the iWorld or Jordan McAllister. As the newsites popped up, everything seemed straightforward. Budding inventor brings together a team of other brilliant minds to make a great leap using the technology of the times. Each year their device had evolved, from the iHear mp3 device, to the iDrive multimedia player, to the iDream cell phone/PDA. The iWorld was the most highly advertised and therefore, desired, electronic device in the history of modern society. From billboards to rap videos to coffee chain tie-ins, the presence of this gadget had surrounded us before we even had it resting in our hungry palms. I guess I just wasn't paying attention as I blew through the city each day. Probably missed the TV commercials due to having only an old 13" b&w set at home with barely functioning rabbit ears. I was just having too much fun and, well, I suppose I was a bit out of touch with reality these days. I left the library more than a little distraught. Where could I turn now? I couldn't head home. I'd just wind up feeling sorry for myself. I couldn't just burst into McAllister's office and demand that he tell me the connection between Helena's collapse and his damned toy. "Why not?" The voice came over my headphones and I spun around. I checked out the iWorld expecting to have accidentally called someone from my address book once again. But it was off. "Drop on by the office. I've been expecting you." I remembered moments like this when, as a kid I'd ride my bike around the neighborhood listening to cassette tapes. The ambient background noise would make me suspiciously glance over my shoulders every few seconds, really implanting that paranoia. Tucked into the shadows of the East Village, I questioned my sanity as the voice kept creeping out of the headphones. I ripped them out and began to hyperventilate. The random soundtrack of the city funneled into my ears and grounded my brain for the moment. But I could still hear the tinny tone of the voice as it crept from out of the tiny pieces of plastic and wires in my hands. I tossed the device into my ski cap and stuffed the whole thing deep into the pocket of my army jacket. I closed my eyes and imagined myself outside McAllister's office, smashing through the front doors, leaping through the lobby, and slamming floor by floor up to his lush penthouse suite. I imagined myself destroying his happy and rich life, starting with his art deco decor and ending with his throat in my grip, suspending him outside the center floor-to-ceiling window of his decimated office. "Do it. Kill me son." I hesitated and came to my senses. I dropped to my knees. With several long, deep, drawn breaths in I could see that my momentary wish had become a reality. The entire span of McAllister's multi-million dollar chunk of real estate, with that spectacular view, was now leveled completely. The windows were all blown out, and the remaining shards of his luxurious lifestyle spread around me in a ring as if a bomb had been detonated in the center of the room. "It's so disappointing that you're such a failure." McAllister, mere inches from a two hundred story drop, looked severely sad. He took off his blazer and tossed it out the window. Unbuttoning his cuffs, he rolls up his sleeves, before kicking me clear across the room with an Italian loafer to the chest. "I only ask that you end my life and you can't even imagine that." McAllister began to pace around the room, the splinters and shards crackling under his steps. He brushes his hand through his hair and walks towards the last of the standing walls. With his other hand, he gently waves as the wall begins to disappear, replaced with a large metal womb. "Okay Chuck, here's how it goes. I'm the villain of this piece. I know, how post modern of me to mention it straight up like this. So clever, right?" McAllister grabs the womb and drags it closer. "Fuck clever. I'm your goddamn devil, child." I had finally caught my breath and my threw myself across the room into a defensive position. My arms crossed before me in an 'X', my front foot thrust forward, and my back foot at a 90 degree angle, bracing for impact or prepared to launch. My Quasar vision dazzled around the scene absorbing all the light in the room in nothing more than an instant. "Let's finish this." I couldn't believe the cliched battlecries I heard coming from my mouth. McAllister's hand is on the womb, gently raising it's liquid metal covering. His eyes are locked onto mine, and he holds me there with his magnetic-repulsion-rays. A smile is lifting the corners of his mouth as I shake my sight free. A small mob of young men, trapped beneath the next generation iWorld, the iSoul, roar into the room. Their eyes are blank, their ears full, and their minds empty. In their hands runs the current of power emanating from the womb. The surging fractal lightning pulsed around their fists as the iZombies stomped forward, bloody screams of battle on their breaths. I strained my crossed arms against the paralyzing effect McAllister was emanating upon me, and at the very last second, mere millimeters from the wildly swung punch of an iZombie, just then did I snap out and into action. I was like a breeze between the pack, darting low beneath their grasp. The burning edges of searing raw cosmos nipped at my hair as I slid behind them. My fist rockets right and throws half the bunch down and out. I whip my right around again and fire it like a piston into the back of another, before unleashing a southpaw shot to two more. My fists pumped forward, the muscles acting almost on their own behalf, and by the time I slowed them down the room was a bloody cocoon. "Perfect. And now the for the kicker." I swung around mad-eyed and frayed, tachyon fire streaming from my mind. McAllister had raised the womb's cover and inside I saw that it was her. The quicksilver shine blinded me and forced out tears. Before my eyesight returned though I knew who it was that lie there naked and fetal. And I knew it was my fault. It was the silvery scorched body of Velocity Girl. I had stripped her of her form somehow, weakened her. I was the one that charged after her, trapped her, gave Helena her powers. Helena?! My god. Where was Helena? "You hit every cue my boy. Brilliant!" Ms. Mercury smashed into the office with the force of a thousand furies. The glass and twisted metal danced and glittered all around her as she just absolutely dazzled with that golden glow. Her furrowed brow was so cute, and she was making that angry face. My god. This is why he had loved her. The way she looks right now is everything I saw in her and everything I had ever loved about any woman ever. I'm not sure if her fist hit me or if it was the shockwave of compressed air that hairline fractured my cheekbone. I was sent sailing to the floor in a one knock out punch. I don't even know if her skin touched me. And I don't even have time to hit the ground, cause as I drift down her foot comes up under my rib cage and fires me straight through the roof of the building and high into the night sky. It's beautiful out. The air is warm and mild. Just enough wind to carry you about. And the city is out and lit up and alive. It's a stage with lights, camera, and action abound. But it's all getting further away. Ms. Mercury glides upwards past me and I gaze at her amazing figure as it caresses the edges of a moonlit Central Park. Her leg stretches straight up to her chin and down across mine. Plummeting so fast, thinking isn't possible. Until I slam into time and space expands into my mind like blood into cracks of concrete. It's beautiful inside this silence. Crackling into my psychic ear, snow like fuzz of memories brushed aside to make room for McAllister's thoughts. I try to squeeze him out of my mind. But it's no use. He has a hold and he places in his reality. "I want you to realize that you must defeat her and stop me. I'm not sure if that's clear by now. Everything I do, I do for you." I felt him crying. Then I felt like a sack of mail snatched by a speeding train. A sack of potatoes dragged from a cropduster. The parachute behind a dragracer. Then spinning in a circular spin somehow elliptically spun until I was mentally undone and then I vomited as I was pitched full speed into and through the offices of fine and hard working individuals, that actually enjoy their jobs. She caught me on the other side and my vision had now returned. Sight smacked back into me, I now saw blood streaming behind us as the city blurred away. My face felt wet and sticky and syrupy. I was groggy and attempted to turn around. My stomach lurched and I dry heaved myself into a coughing fit, nearly letting my lungs collapse. I drew into myself and coiled up in my body. Tightly wound stone charging of my internal thrust. Fired aloud, I popped free from Ms. Mercury's grip and carved myself through the undercurrents towards Wall Street. I grasped my forehead, hoping to close the gash across my third eye. I was karma blinded and without a guidance system now. And the bleeding's stopped. Bouncing across the ledges and pouncing from the empty office views of Downtown Manhattan, I was ricocheting to a safe haven, where ever that was. It was then that my senses were finally coming back to me and I saw how aura destroyed I really was. I couldn't outrun her. I couldn't outpower her. I couldn't out fight her. I was screwed. So I tried to run anyways, skipping along the tops of the West side. But she was always more familiar with this side of town. Damn! She taps me with an uppercut I don't see coming. I try to brace for impact and curl into a fetal position. A million swats dribble me down to Canal St. before she kicks me into the Holland Tunnel at a hundred miles an hour. My body is broken as it rattles against the tiled walls of the tunnel. Ms. Mercury cascades up next to me as she prepares to bounce me off the walls. I have only one thought as she unleashes her venomous Valkyrie vengeance, only one solitary things crosses my mind at that exact moment. She looks so happy. I catch glimpses of dirt, and water and metal, and garbage and smoke before finally hitting something that catches me in it's warm embrace. I can't feel anything beyond my mind. My body must be shattered, along with my spirit, but my brain hasn't died yet. But consciousness fades and before it does I see a single sentence that seems so odd, yet so familiar set before the apocalyptic background around him. 'Welcome to New Jersey.'
Ripping into the Indie comics scene with phenomenal creator Mr. Vince White. We dive deep into his process of making comics and dig a bit into the mystery of the ICON Equation!Ā
THE LEGEND OF WILL POWER & the POWERVERSE is the project Iām most interested in at the moment. Give a read to the first five issues on www.WillPowerComic.com as well as The Action Pack is my highly recommended read, Kid Fearless is actually the best character Iāve been endeared to immediately in years. Great production value and a fun team book that feels like an established Teen Titans or New Warriors book should read.Ā
Iāve had my eye on this Iconic creation by Vince White for as long as I can remember in this timeline, but somehow I see it as the beginning of the next thing that will change the game. If I had any doubts that Vince and I were thinking along the same lines the above podcast put it together. He's laying all the groundwork for what will be a fun collective universe of multiverses, a playground for potential adventures, team-ups, & take downs are all available. If the rest of the line is as high quality production value wise and anywhere near as fun and full of high impact POW! then Iām on board with POWERVERSE!
TWENTYSIX: the Chase
A THRUSTisHere Short Story Series Circa. 2007.
I teetered on the edge of the mammoth and archaic building outside City Hall. The streets were nearly empty three hundred feet below me. But from up here, with the warm breeze pounding upon my back, I could see the teeming masses parading through Chinatown. Looking forward and down, I dropped, face first towards the speeding pavement below. People whipped out their digital cameras and video phones and recorded my plummet as I soaked in the free-fall adrenaline rush. I'm not sure but I think underneath the gasps that escaped from the lips of the passersby, I heard several disappointed exclamations, such as "AW MAN! I wanted to see him go splat!" My magnetic field throbbed to life as my feet slowly lowered towards the ground. With a subtle tap of the tip of my kicks, the field that caught me, launched me back up. Twice as fast as I had dropped, I began to soar straight up, rocketing into the warm winter sky. I lifted myself high above the city, punching through a low passing blanket of clouds and I saw it all at once. Every piece of matter below me was simultaneously working in unison to create this higher ideal, the city god we call New York City. My thrust had carried me thousands of feet up and I began to drop once again. The earth came screaming towards me with the mind numbing intensity of certain doom. I let my powers wane for the plunge until the very last moment, when, with a spin and a gentle kick off the spiralling columns of the monolithic building, I fired myself along the magnetic waves that pulsed all through this great and sprawling metropolis. Guided by my gleaming, mental unicorn horn, I weaved my way like a pinball, ricocheting off ledges, taxis, and newsstands. I removed my army hat and let my hair whip with the winds. Surfing the wavelengths I soon had roared through all of downtown at a heart-racing pace. I may make it to work on time after all. I had found myself a little bored lately having captured that speedy minx I call Velocity Girl. Bouncing around the city had become tiresome as I had already mapped out the strongest pulses of power that could carry me all over the island, from the uptown museums to the downtown bars and back again. Velocity Girl had eluded me since I first developed my powers. It was her visage that I had first seen when I sent my mind along the etheric river. Shot upstream as if from a cannon, I had instantaneously glided around the entire moebius strip that comprised our reality. And there she was. She was turned away from me but I could see her beauty shining with a quicksilver shimmer. With a glance over her shoulder I knew I had seen the most perfect female I could ever imagine. Her ghostly muscles tensed and relaxed like a perfect machine, pumping and pushing her ever forward and away from me. My hands lunged out and I could feel her misty hair as it flowed free from my fingers. The cosmos had slapped my forehead and I could feel my entire being sucked back into my body. An upturned corner of her mouth was the last I saw of her. I had crashed back into flesh and she was long gone. When my powers began to develop it was like I could sense her at times. Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of her as she passed invisibly through a girl getting off the subway, or a woman laughing in a restaurant. It was all about timing. I would need to strike just as she passed through another female. I began experimenting with my powers and found that I could strip myself of my magnetic field and use it to create a trap. So with a concentrated effort I closed the field around her as she passed by. I don't know if it was the girl she was trapped in, or Velocity Girl herself, but it was nearly impossible to contain her. Our opposite polarities made us simultaneously drawn together and violently blown apart. Over time I was able to calm the fields so that they vibrated in sync with each other, yet remaining separated by their innate polarity. My leaping and soaring days were long over, but it didn't matter. We were together. It's hard to put into words the way that I experience love. It's like we all have these fields and they carry little snippets of us, culminations of our experiences. And when these fields are in prolonged contact they begin to merge and change each other. Empowering and devouring ourselves in a closed circuit loop of mutual co-existence. I had hardly missed my powers, except those times stuck on the subway or waiting at the bus stop on the cold winter nights. I did miss the battle aspects though of pitting my powers against someone else's. And the team-ups and crossovers... So I was bored. And Velocity Girl began to look like an ordinary girl nowadays. Her flighty spirit had been contained and drained and her glow had all but dimmed completely. I had learned to care for this girl that housed the essence of this lunar goddess. I told myself it was for her sake that I released the field and absorbed it back into myself. But the truth was I wanted the chase again. The field had come slowly off of her, then suddenly crashed about my person. The shock-wave threw me back into the far wall of our small apartment. Something within my girlfriend instantly exploded into a spectacular luminous Amazon. Velocity Girl had been reborn in a glorious golden explosion. My own powers throbbed and pulsated around me and by the time my eyes had adjusted, she was gone. Light years around the cosmos and back again, circling the fringes of our minds, she was soaring through the ether. She was gone. When I had regained my senses I spoke to the girl I had trapped Velocity Girl in. We talked for hours and hours, feeding off the electromagnetic high. Sitting there indian style on the floor, staring at each other for hours as we both jabbered on about everything and nothing. We collapsed under the dawn's rays, the sunlight glistening off our sweaty, naked bodies. And just there, as I glanced over, I saw a golden shimmer in her eyes fade into stark reality. Then we slept for ages.
TWENTYSIX - āRUN FOR YOUR LIFEā
A THRUSTisHere Short Story Series Circa. 2006. NYC.
"For Christ's sake Artemis, just drop it! Let me track Velocity Girl on my own, please!" I dropped and rotated through a multitude of realities until I found this one. I don't mean to run away from our fights but I just can't stand it anymore. I'm sitting in silence as she drones on and on about some nonsense that can't possibly apply to me. I'm a goddamn hero honey. No, no, please let me wash the dishes while a universe perishes under the might of Sol, the Sun God. Soaring straight, and up, I look for another reality, one with a bit more pep. "You can't run forever Raptor! That's my job!" Great. Now she's flying off into the night sky and I can't even get a word in edge-wise. Sometimes this whole thing just seems impossible. Reminds me of Eve Impossible. Beneath all her disguises and gadgets there was no discernable personality, just a daddy's girl, eager to please. Vibrating inwards I land on the WorldCycle and lose myself in shot after shot of carbonated quantum particles. This go-round she's the bartender and I can see she's preparing the 'you're-cut-off' speech. Omniman materialized as he molecularily collided with the empty space next to me at the bar, possibly drawn by the vapors of my dimensional wake. "Omniman! Now there's a motherfucker who knows what he's doing." I shot my arm out towards the bartender, pointing wildly in her direction. "This bastard saves every single one of us every moment of every day, and not ONE goddamn complaint. Fucking hell mate!" Omniman stood silently on the edge of my mind, blurry yet stoic. "I'm not Omniman. I'm you." I wiped the quasars from my eyes and saw myself for the first time. "You've spent your life running. Ducking and dodging the beam. You kept shifting away from us for so long that you lost touch with those around you, lad. Come back to us. Run towards something." My eyes raced around the scene examining it molecule by molecule, picking up every proverbial stone and looking under. "What is going on?" The light caught me unawares and slapped me in my frontal lobe, smooshing it inwards and then snapping again forward, sprouting out a Unicorn's horn, dripping off into the ether as a single, solitary drop. I landed in her arms, the cold desert air around us. She was cradling my head as we sat upon the sand. The air was crisp as it chilled the warm earth beneath us. "Don't worry baby. I've got you. Come back to me." The sun blazed defiantly behind us, Ayer's rock doing its best to eclipse it's power. Before us lies the moon, reflecting like a silver puddle shimmering in the dusky horizon. "It's the drugs baby, not you. You can beat this." Her words came into focus and my superheroic exploits blurred around my mind. I had found my way home.
āSUPERMAN, SAVE THEIR MINDSā
THRUST!! First Short Story
"Hey man, let me tell you, the Multiverse...it isn't a place. It's a state of mind." Thrust slid through the air as though soaring through zero gravity. Magnetic pulsar sheen shimmered in his wake as he tore down the city streets. His glowing red converse came down to the ground in a slo-mo warp, and with a subtle push off the pavement he skipped across our simulated world. Twisting and turning in a high-velocity spin, he slams his fist, now resonating with thundering force, into the robot's midsection. "The key to superpowers is all in your mind. The entire fabric of reality and the myriad of dimensions exist simultaneously in the same exact location, only separated by the alternating vibrations of god's voice. Change your wavelength for mental elevation, trigger your meta-evolution." The other robots quickly adapted to Thrust's speed. Their internal mechanisms were powered by the Atomic Perceptual Motion Machines which sat firmly planted in their chest cavity. These wicked machinations helped the machines expand their reach into the very Wonderverse itself. Thrust quantum-slid across the magnetic fields, flexing the very bonds that held reality together. Time and space became space in time and before the robots could register it, the charcoal glow of his crimson sneakers had sliced through the atomic symbol stamped upon their chest plates. He landed with a delicate and soundless drop into a tight crouch. His eyes glowed bright white from behind his aviator sunglasses, flashing outwards in pulses. Above and behind, springs and levers ticked, tocked, and suddenly sprung forth in a violent spray of oil and gears. "Take your illusion and make it real. Feel that twang against your horn of light, protruding from your third eye, and running divine energies down into the reservoir at the base of your lizard brain, deep into your spine." The sunglasses whipped off and sparking, milky light erased another robot from existence. The glasses returned to his face without his pupils being exposed for a millisecond. A quiet flopped upon the scene, freezing the last of the robots in its place. Motionless, it struggled with the impossibility of its seemingly defunct state. Thrust stood up and stretched out his back. He drew several deep breaths, filling his lungs with fresh oxygen before speaking again. "Rise to the SuperEgo and unite the ID. Only you can do it. And its so much easier with superpowers." Thrust was gone in an instant, leaving behind a human-shaped crackling warble in the dead center of the robots chest.
āUNTOUCHABLEā a superspeed short story
A glass falls. It starts with an instinctual clenching of the fists. A popping of the knuckles. A slight twitch in the neck and flickering of the eyes. Weird how the eyes seem to be last. I suppose eye sight can't keep up with the rest of the reflexes. The glass tumbles through the air like a balloon traveling on its final remnants of helium. If only you could just let your arm fly out and stop it. But instead you watch it dance its spiraling path to the floor and explode into a thousand glittering shards. And this happens at least on average of one hundred times a day. Your instincts and reflexes roaring at you to leap out and save countless dinnerware, hot cups of coffee, and ice cream scoops. It's only after a few broken bones, rheumatoid arthritis contorting your body, and a thousand hours of meditation tapes that you are able to stifle those impulses with just a flexing of all your muscles in unison and a grinding of the teeth. After a year or so you forget to watch these seemingly endless moments of personal disaster. You remain low-key and withdrawn. Living entire lifetimes in your head as life crawls by. Your subtle tremors help you keep your distance physically from the people around you. You shirk from a girl's touch. Under a bully's shove you throw yourself backwards, a mere inch from his touch. No punch has ever been thrown that you didn't know was coming. After years of dulling your senses the snap back into hyperspeed creates an instant migraine that feels like your brains were blown out the back of your head. The fist that is six inches from your face and closing, despite the fact that you're traveling backwards as fast as you can possibly move, is incomprehensible. You didn't even see it coming. So much for being untouchable.
Above Selfie via my T-Mobile Sidekick in 2003
āUNTOUCHABLE: RUN!ā a superspeed short story
The air screams as you tear backwards, though the sound won't hit your ear drums until the fight is over. The fist that impossibly rockets towards you is getting closer as everything else around you slips into a shiny molecular blur. Time parts as you slide from its grasp and seemingly float backwards in a daydream sonic burn. The inertia of the attacking fist sends ripples of power echoing through your bones. Surging pulses of divine energies resonate and renew your muscles. The moment is an orgasm of power as years of mental blocks come crumbling down. This delicate moment is eternal. Lost in the moment, the fist grazes the tip of your chin. Your feet have just found the ground again and you've pushed back off. Riding the wave of force your advesary is radiating, you turn to run. Your senses, unable to handle the stress of hyper-perception, begin to slip. Time rushes in and fills the gaps between movements. Your vision stretches and bends and snaps into place. Your boots scrape against the gravel and your center is sent soaring ahead.
Above Screen via my T-Mobile Sidekick in 2004
āUNTOUCHABLE: FLIGHTā a superspeed short story
Your vision reaches out to an indefinite point stretching out past the horizon. Everything comes streaming from that point in a watercolor haze. Colors are drastically muted as there simply isn't enough time for your eye to register the sensory input. A bizarre effect takes hold of you that makes it feel like your whole body is being stretched out. Your mind feels like the sun and your feet are iron weights dragging miles behind you. Your foot stomps against the concrete leaving a solid imprint from the sole your boot. Your heart leaps out of your chest and you surge forward again. Like a stone over the surface of a lake, several steps and you have skipped miles across the surface of time and space. People, places, and things become abstractions of no more consequence than an anthill on the side of the road. You're speeding along, free from everything. Cognitive thought is nearly impossible. You can't remember who you were before you started running. An entire life, an identity, and all concerns are left behind just like your afterimage fading from the optic nerves of your friends. Your entire self melts away in an euphoric daze. All that matters is sustaining this incredible feeling of ultimate freedom.
Above Skyline via my T-Mobile Sidekick in 2003
THRUST - 90ās style
Hereās theĀ earliestĀ design of Thrust, the superhero persona I was dubbed by my roleplaying gang back in High School. I knew his powers were based around propulsion as a means for transport, rather than just having traditional superspeed, but an original superhero name is hard, especially for a speedster. Heād also be wearing a royal blue leather jacket over this costume as was so awesome about 90ās superhero costumes.
This is also an accurate depiction of my long hair in the 90ās though not the size of my head.
The very first iteration of THRUST!! from 1993, exactly twenty years later I would become my own superhero persona. I did have a penchant towards wearing superhero costumes when my friends and I were younger, once staging a Darth Vader vs Batman & Robin battle at various stores around Suburbia.
My very first superhero, or super-vigilante, persona was RED MASQUE, who had various superpowers such as speed, strength, stamina, but could only use one at a time so a balance had to be found. Inspired by the Black Hood from Impact Comics in the 90ā²s I made my own mask and took some photos with my friends around the train tracks.
THRUST!! was my first real SUPERHERO persona as I realized the Grim & Gritty Comics of the Modern Age didnāt really appeal to me anymore. Donāt worry, itās a water gun above. Iām the most pacifist person I can imagine and so I would lose the mask & guns for electromagnetic propulsion, which meant moves like Spidey with the Speed of the Flash!
All of reality begins to warp as mutant powers run amuck this Weekend at VILLAIN in Williamsburg! Good thing THRUST!! & !CAUSALITY! are on the scene to investigate & rescue any potential powerful people from themselves!
Check out the Interactive Art Exhibit going on all weekend before the premiere of LEGION on FX Feb 8th!
Kurt āKCā Christenson,Ā Comic Book Creator
Let me help you Make Comics!
I live in Brooklyn as a Writer/Creator with 15 years experience with writing, scripting, editing, lettering, color flatting, graphic design, prepress, photo editing, social media, marketing & PR, event producing, & performing.
Iām the co-creator of @powerplaycomicā inventing Guided View Native digital comics with ComiXology, the author of THE TOWER OF BRAHMA, and former writer for Entertainment Weekly & NY Daily News.
Find me on FIVERR & TWITTER
Visit @kingscountycomics for more!
POWER PLAY is the comic project I worked on with fellow TenTonStudios Founder & Marvel Artist, Reilly Brown, which led to the foundation of KINGS COUNTY COMICS! Click below for a preview of the NYC Comic Series!!
FACEBOOK FREE PREVIEWĀ / Ā COMIXOLOGY FREE PREVIEW
From the heart of NYC comes the original digital comic book seriesĀ POWER PLAY, co-created by Marvel artistĀ Reilly BrownĀ & writerĀ Kurt Christenson.
Presenting the firstĀ ComiXologyĀ comic to refine what has now become known as Guided View Native Digital Comics, a series that utilizes the technology developed to read comic books on your smartphone, tablet, or web browser, while maximizing the story-telling potential of this new medium.
Power PlayĀ is about New Yorkers with superpowers, but rather than fight crime, they don makeshift costumes and form an underground streetgames league. From all across theĀ Five Boroughs,Ā competitors come for a chance to claim the League Cup, for fortune, glory, or for the free year of beer at their neighborhood dive bar.Ā
Power PlayĀ is a love letter to the diversity of New York City with each character satirizing the stereotypes of the locals, with a wink & a nod to their various neighborhoods. The scenes in the comic are MADEinNY, drawn from photo reference of actual New York locations, monuments, bars, etc. so that you can experience the city first hand, building on those of us who know it well, andĀ introducing it to those whoāve yet to visit.
Drawing inspiration from early Spider-Man, Archie Comics, & Sports Manga, Reilly and Kurt have created a new, accessible, fun comic book story thatās a fresh take on superpowers, mixed with the obstacle courses that only the Greatest City in the World can provide!
There is aĀ FREE preview on our Facebook FanpageĀ as well as on the number one digital comics provider,Ā comixology at:
https://www.comixology.com/Power-Play-0/digital-comic/12727
Hereās the line-up for the GOWANUS GAMES!!
(L-R: Nico Teen, Katheine, Max Voltz, Jew-Jitsu, KNITWIT, Scarves Canarsee, Frankie the Roach)
(L-R: RyuKyu the Kenpo Kid, Larry the Ladle, MAC WASHINGTON, COLE BURNER, Veganne, STICKY FINGERS)
(L-R: Hellās Kitchen Pigeon, Pretty Kitty Fantastica [FATCAT], DOUBLE DRIBBLE, Barnaby the Bionic Banker, Sea Scorpion)
(L-R: WHISKERS, Odette Odile, Mighty Bro, HawtDawg, AnarChris)
(L-R: Luna Neptune, Pixiedust, KA-PAO, Cindy Blox, Sal āSlapballā Skully, Red Hook, Plunja)
What neighborhood do you fight for?Ā Whatās your SUPERPOWER?!
PowerPlayComic.com
THE LAST STAND of TEX MONDAY!!
Co-Created with @fiverr artist: https://www.fiverr.com/brinarendra
The Weird Wild West is Patrolled by the Mysterious Mecha, the Steam-Locomotive Lawman known only as TEX MONDAY!
His tale sets the stage for an alt.history mobile game, animation, and comic book experience. After #FiveWeeksOnFiverr I came up with the basic character designs above via different artists I found on Fiverr.com and within the budget of $125 I created the above concept.
Right now Iām working on bringing it to the next level with graphic design and logos, setting this as the backstory to as well as creating the future transforming racers and maps of REX-AMERICA!
If youāve got a comic book concept youād like to develop please get in touch via my @fiverr Comic Book Creation gig! Starts with FREE advice and then we can work on everything from finding the right artist to editing, scriptwriting, publishing, social media, and beyond!
https://www.fiverr.com/kurtchristenson
#FiveOnFIVERR by kurtchristenson
My name is KurtĀ āKCā Christenson, founder of kingscountycomics! Iām also the co-creator of the Original NYC comixology Comic Book SeriesĀ powerplaycomic with reillybrown. Iāve written for entertainmentweekly & unwinnable as well.
I had been trying to launch my new comic book series when I stumbled into producing live comic book events. It had become easier to have my performer friends and I dress up on stage and act out comic book adventures rather than finding an artist who could commit to working on a comic book project past a few sketches, even if there was payment involved.Ā
I had met a few artists on tumblr but fiverr has made it so those artists can now market themselves at whatever price range they feel is appropriate for themselves, and now as an editor/creator/producer I can make sure my artists deliver on time and it completely alleviates the awkwardness of discussing business with artist friends. Everything is set up ahead of time, and the Extras on the Gigs can make it so the artist can set up tiers of work, and I can get what Iām looking for.Ā
For the last ten weeks I have been commissioning artwork of my characters THRUST!! vs. LORDZERO & Velocitygirl. Besides just illustrations, Iāve commissioned logo & sticker designs (as well as actual vinyl stickers), 3D modeling (looked into 3D printing), and moving towards motion graphics. In total I have spent just $500 on 50 Commissions. More traction made in just over two months, than in just over two years! Plus, Iāve found a handful of artists that I am now working with on a consistent basis, working towards the Kings County Comics Launch at newyorkcomiccon!