Ex Machina
I recently rediscovered my desire to read comic books. In keeping with that I also discovered that anything that interests me becomes a weird addiction. With comics, it is this urge to collect. I need every issue from origin to present. I went to my shelves and found Ex Machina: The First Hundred Days, the first graphic novel in a series under DC’s Wildstorm imprint about a guy who is able to talk to machines because of a freak accident. The story begins as he decides to run for Mayor of New York in a post-911 climate. I recall that I had purchased all the issues from Volume 1 to Volume 5, and I decided I must have the rest. I ordered the rest and realized it is still being issued. That is actually bittersweet, because when you get into a comic you have to suffer the waiting for the next issue, whereas when you find a series that is complete you can collect them all and you have this sense of having a whole entity in your library.
Setting all that aside, I began to re-read the first volume to jog my memory, and then the next one, and the next.
The thing that strikes me is the medium of comics in itself. The art is so much more textured than what I remember from being a kid. The writing is mature, and the creativity of the whole genre nowadays is this electric thing that you hold in your hands.
The idea that heroism is kid’s play is not really the truth. It took me back to the imagination I seem to have left behind as an adult, and it makes me want to revive that child in me, where fantasy and yet the truth of the human struggle are all there, in incredible color and dreamlike frames. So graphic, so poignant.