Sunday, October 08, 2006

The Joy of Being Unstuck in Time
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O.H. Krill is a name synonymous with UFOlogy. His, or hers, paper "Our Aquisition of Advanced Technologies and Interaction with Alien Cultures" has been circulated and discussed since the earliest days of the Internet. Apparently, Krill also has a rep as an electro-deejay, if my research is correct.
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The problem is, O.H. Krill is an enigma whose true identity is as much a subject of speculation as are his/her/their works. It doesn't matter--O.H. Krill's speculations, reportage, fictions--whatever they are--remain fascinating and provocative.
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In Montauk Babies (or The Many Lives of Al Leedskalnin), Krill looks at life in a world that is literally falling apart. Lavishly illustrated by renowned comics creator and designer John Malloy, this is a graphic novel only in the broadest sense, at least in the popular definition. What Krill and Malloy have created here is a work that transcends categorization. In a story that is part science fiction, part road trip, part conspiracy theory, part social commentary and part quantum philosophy, Montauk Babies ultimately emerges as brilliant satire.
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It's 2011, and Al Leedskalnin and Peabody Freeman are travelling cross- country in a '73 Buick Riviera, living off fast food and sleeping in whatever Motel6 they encounter. Theirs is not a typical roadtrip, however--the potholes they encounter are inter-dimensional, and cross time and space in a single bound. Al, once a subject in the Montauk, Long Island government experiments of the fifties (which may or may not have actually happened) and Peabody, a quantum physicist, are on more than a drive through the desert, though. Theirs is nothing less than a mission to keep timespace from imploding on itself.
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It's a disjointed tale, vaguely reminiscent of Vonnegut and Harlan Ellison in its non-linear storytelling. Al and Peabody keep coming unstuck in time, warping in and out of the continuum as they try to maintain their mission. The pacing is breakneck, enhanced by typographical layouts that force the reader to move at whatever gait Krill intends. Too, Malloy's illustrations work as visual recaps of Krill's sometimes maddening prose stylings. The thirty full-page, black and white wash renderings, often perplexing, stand alone as pristine examples of graphic design.
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Montauk Babies, at a little over a hundred pages, can hardly be considered a novel. But as a novella, it explores our obsession with technology and pop culture, and the consequenses that result from them. It's a fascinating tale that's never preachy and always entertaing. It is anything but a comic book. I'd file it under "social satire," but O.S. Krill may be dead serious here.
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Whatever the author's intention, Montauk Babies is worth a read. It's a story that will stay with the reader for a while.