Read The Manhattan Projects Vol. 6 by Jonathan Hickman Free Online
Book Title: The Manhattan Projects Vol. 6|
The author of the book: Jonathan Hickman
Date of issue: June 9th 2016
ISBN 13: 9781632159311
Format files: PDF
The size of the: 8.72 MB
Edition: Image Comics
Read full description of the books The Manhattan Projects Vol. 6:A friend of mine who is getting to know my tastes pretty well was like, "Hey, you know that series you tried and didn't really like? Well, they basically ended it but kept the name and now it's this story about a guy and his dog travelling through space."
And I flipped through it and saw that it was mostly weird aliens for characters and I was like, "Yes, I will read this thing."
I did enjoy this volume of Manhattan Projects better than the previous volume I'd read, but only a smidge better, so it still gets three stars. The weird aliens are great and whatever the hell they're all doing to each other is hilarious. I was not at all invested in any of the characters, and despite the fact that it's the kind of book designed to communicate the idea that Space is Awesome, the characters all pretty much seem to feel like Space is Lonely and Not Awesome. Which is kind of a bummer. And the end is sad and also a bummer.
I feel like Manhattan Projects, even as a space adventure, still demands things of me as a reader that I don't have to offer. It demands that I don't really care about characters because most of them will die violently, and it demands that I get off, somehow, on this constant stream of death. And I mean, hey, I liked X-Statix as much as anyone, but at a certain point the schtick gets pretty fucking tired.
Manhattan Projects also asks that I ignore the fact there are no female characters -- ANYWHERE -- IN ALL OF FUCKING SPACE. It was one thing when Vol 1 was some sort of 50's sci fi parody, in which a bunch of talking man-heads stand around saying man-things. I mean, I didn't like it, but it sort of made sense. But now we're in MOTHERFUCKING SPACE and even though everyone is either a robot or a sentient orb or a robot or a six-eyed two-faced superintelligent muckymuck, SPACE IS ONLY FUCKING DUDES.
Oh, maybe the dog was a girl. I don't know.
Anyway. It's an attractive book with some fun sci fi stuff, and I didn't totally feel like I knew what was going on and I'm not sure if I'd read the four volumes I haven't read that I'd have any better idea of what was going on. I get the sense that no one involved is trying very hard, and all it makes me think is that we live in an age of very exciting and very disposable comics. Not 'disposable' like back in the 40s when little kids paid a nickel for some cheaply-made funnybooks. Disposable like we live in an age in which the big guys are just churning this shit out, and we're lapping it up, anyone can do anything and everything is so fucking cool and no one stops to ask if anyone has felt anything, at all, in fucking years, about any fucking thing whatsoever, at all, and no one can remember the last time that they just read a thing made by another person and that thing fucking meant something.
And I don't mean "meant something" like, I dunno, a fucking koan or a parable or some shit. I mean, just like, a person is in the pages reaching out to a person that is still left inside of you.
Manhattan Projects is a book that makes me feel hollow, like I am living in a time in which there's something important that I have lost. Space is lonely. Books are forgettable. The world is full of dudes.
Read information about the authorIt’s no small thing to die and be born again.
After a certain amount of time you get tired of wasting talent. Of being part of a fraudulent profession — or actually being a fraud. And, most importantly, not living the life you are capable of having.
I remember the first night I went out with my wife. It was raining, she was beautiful… it was a normal, ordinary, intentionally uneventful, date. But at some point during that evening I had, I don’t know what you call it, a vision, a moment where time collapsed in on itself… regardless, I knew that I’d marry her. And so I did.
Because sometimes everything in the universe briefly aligns to show you how things should be — the total commitment to change that follows means all the things you think it might: honesty, amputation, reinvention and renaissance. Jonathan Hickman was born in South Carolina in the year 1972.
He was reborn in March of 2006.
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