When you’ve spent an entire life paving your own path there’s no reason to change the approach all that much at this point. It’s a lesson John Jackman has lived by over the past several years while following his instincts and bringing comic book characters to life through his own imagination.

His current recreations of the past will surface in boxes of Spider-Man Archives Trading Cards, due out on Oct. 28. Sketch cards featuring actual artwork from over 80 other artists, including some of the most well known names in the game, will be sporadically placed in random cases of printed cards for collectors. The set features characters that appeared in the first 100 issues of the classic Marvel comic, The Amazing Spider-Man.

(Above and bottom): John "Jax" Jackman fine-tunes some of the original hand-drawn sketch cards that will be inserted into the Spider-Man Archives Trading Card set due out in October. (Below): Randomly selected pieces of artwork Jackman has produced.

As busy as Jackman, a.k.a. JAX, has been with this current project, the self-taught artists says it all started with the simplest of maneuvers – getting more involved in the industry as a whole.

“In this industry it’s all about who you know and whose artwork is good,” said Jackman. Apparently his efforts and enthusiasm have not gone unnoticed.

He’s since made plenty of contacts throughout the comic art community over the years and credits a chance encounter with members of the Vicious Circle Project, as well as many others he’s met at conventions such as MegaCon and FX, for kickstarting his foray into the professional scene. Those relationships helped lead Jackman into a number of random projects such as a 24-hour comic book collective drawing session in Tampa, his first comic book contribution, and a chance to take part in his first illustrated card set a few years back.

“It’s all because I stuck my foot in the door and said ‘hey, I’m here’,” he said. “It was time to get off the coach and get out and do something.”

The first big project for Jackman came in 2006 when he produced 240 cards for The Complete Avengers (1963-Present) card set released by Rittenhouse Archives. As impressive as those turned out to be, despite the rush job he was up against (a production deadline of less than three weeks), the 150 Spider-Man Archives sketch cards currently being finished up proves he’s taking his craft to a whole new level. The world will soon agree.

In a community of grass roots, do-it-yourself artists, there are many places to turn and give thanks when it comes to recognizing how people help people land these types of opportunities.

Among the names that come to mind, when Jackman thinks of lasting relationships, influences and respect he has for other artists, are those of Jason Sobol, James Bukauskas, Adam Hughes, Phil Noto, Joe Pekar and Rhiannon Owens, among countless others. They are all individuals who have a particular style and go about things in their own unconventional ways.

“When you’re doing stuff that nobody’s done before it makes it unique,” said Jackman of continuing to learn and fine-tune his style. “I’ve learned a lot of things, not classically, but I get to try them out and experiment and I think that’s the benefit of never having been told ‘this is how you’re supposed to do it’ because then you end up making stuff that looks like everyone else.”

If nothing else it’s helped make putting his own twist of the villains, bit characters, and guest appearances in the upcoming Spider-Man card set that much funnier to create.

• James Brown – “There Was A Time”

• Lupe Fiasco w/ Jill Scott – “Daydream”

• The Roots w/ Chrisette Michelle and Wale – “Rising Up”

• Primus – “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver”

• Rob Zombie – “American Witch”

• Xzibit – “Thank You”

• Jay- Z w/ Mary J. Blige – “Can’t Knock The Hustle”

• Bob Dylan – “Forever Young”

– “Feel Good Hit Of The Summer 2″

• Feel Good Hit Of The Summer 2

– “C’mon”

• C’mon

– “White Noise”

• White Noise

– “Millie Fell Off The Fire Escape”

• Millie Fell Off The Fire Escape

– “Mother’s Day”

• Mother’s Day

– “They Always Know”

• They Always Know

You know them. They’re everywhere. Maybe they live next door to you, and through your paper thin ghetto-ass walls you can hear them scream at the top of their lungs at their poor girlfriend to get the screaming little shit of a kid because “I’m playing Xbox!” Maybe you actually heard one of them say to a 3-year old during the fireworks extravaganza you attended earlier this month “thanks a lot for ruining my Fourth of July. I guess I got beer at home to take care of that!” Maybe this makes you want to carry around abortion clinic business cards and stab pro-lifers with coat hangers. Either way, a couple of these fuck-hole members of society should be neutered or spayed faster than autistic alley cats with syphilis.

The first group is the parents with 11 damn kids at the Dollar Store. Every damn one of them running through the store with Big Gulp Code Red Mountain Dews, the world’s stickiest lollipops, and one of those fucking slimy/sticky-hand things from the bubblegum machines out front (which somehow already looks like it’s touched more carpet than Dick Cheney’s daughter.)

Now I have lot’s of friends with children, and all of them, until they get old enough to discover video games and text messaging, are always coated with some sort of brightly-colored flavored corn syrup/mud mixture. And I know when I hug them that I will be forced to go home and change my clothes. But these are my friend’s children. I love them. I don’t give a fuck about your slow-class kids who will no doubt grow up to invent the next generation’s crystal meth or potato gun. So please, next time leave them in the car, preferably with the windows rolled up under the hot sun, instead of keeping them close enough to play Spiderman with the back of my shirt in the checkout line as your personality-challenged ass ignores them all and reads fucking Us Magazine. Those are the typical bad parents. They almost get a pass. They probably had typically bad parents themselves and they just don’t know any better. Bless them.

The next group though is even worse. They are the parents of tomorrow’s suicides. They are a rarer breed, but one that you can spot nearly everywhere if you keep your eyes peeled. They are the over-the-top socially anxious parent. These parents are so goddamned afraid of human interaction that if their child so much as sneezes in public he’s out of dessert until Jesus comes home.

Now, I was recently down in Morehead City, North Carolina taking in some sun and human fuckery with old friends (shout out TimS with a big MC EIHT JEAH!) when I spotted this breed. As I ate a great dinner on an open patio with my back to the beautiful Crystal Coast I was nearly floored by the disgusting act of parenting that I witnessed. Our table was having a good damn time, snapping pictures, making jokes, and enjoying what my crew back home calls “good laughs” when the little man sitting next to me must have felt like it was his turn to join in the festivities, by turning and burping at me. That’s it. Just some silly little mouth gas and a smile.

Now this isn’t exactly good manners, or how he should probably behave, but judging by his mother’s reaction you’d have thought he committed a moral sin against God. This simple bitch proceeded to snatch little dude by the arm, drag him three feet down the bench, and snarl “say excuse me” in a voice that reminded me of Christian Bale as Batman. A little over the top I guess, but still, at this point I’m not ready to choke-slam the hooker. Nor am I about to put any of my limbs within striking distance of her mouth either. Not until she digs her nails into his thigh, and with tears in little dude’s eyes, says with that same snarl, (only whispering now) “You feel that? those are my nails!… you keep it up and…” Now I didn’t exactly get the rest of the threat, maybe the blood flowing into my head from the anger impaired my hearing, but all I know is it took everything I had not to Russian-sickle that dumb hoe into the ocean.

This sorry excuse for life really just dug her nails into her poor son’s leg while threatening him in public with more violence and somehow thinks in her simple fucking brain this is less of a scene then the little burp and a smile? Young man, if by some fucked-up event of fate you ever come across this rant floating around on the internet when you’re older (and searching for some identity), you run far, far away from that bitch. Immediately stop trying to gain her approval and run, dude. It’ll never happen, I barely met her over a half-hour dinner and I can tell you that will be one miserable cunt until the day she dies. Run!

This man is currently one of the best, yet one of the most underrated beatsmiths doing it. He dropped an amazingly dope album White Van Music last year on Rhymesayers Entertainment and has an upcoming album in the works with Freeway (that shit is gonna knock!!!!!). He has the great ability to produce for all types of artists. These are some of my favorites…

De La Soul – “Rock Co.Kane Flow”

• De La Soul – Rock Co.Kane Flow

This is that shit! From one of the most criminally slept on albums of the last 10 years, De La’s 2004 The Grind Date, this song pulsates with the weird brilliance that both De La and guest MF Doom have made careers of. But the star of the song is Jake’s production.

Freeway – “Blauh”

• Freeway – Blauh

Everyday last December the “Philly Freezer” murdered a beat in his Month of Madness series and the chemistry these two developed on this, and another song, led the way to the collaborative album I mentioned earlier. I don’t know if this was made for Free, but it fits perfectly. Set the tone and let him go.

The Gift of Gab – “Rat Race”

• The Gift of Gab – Rat Race

To many people have never heard this song, or even the 2004 Gift of Gab album Fourth Dimensional Rocketships Going Up, for that matter. So have a listen.

Freeway & Brother Ali – “The Truth”

• Jake One – The Truth

Freeway and Ali over some rock-hard Jake One production!!! This song will still be as dope 30 years from now as it is right now as it’s being played. This is hip hop – simple, straight forward and infinitely better than anything you ever thought of doing. Off of the 2008 Jake One album White Van Music.

Prodigy – “Shed Thy Blood”

• Prodigy – Shed Thy Blood (w/ Un Pacino)

I’m a lyrics guy, but sometimes a beat completely makes up for lackluster rhyming. Case in point, this song from the 2008 album Product Of The 80′s. Seriously, turn this one up.

]]> http://jointcontrast.com/2009/07/the-jukebox-%e2%80%93-produced-by-jake-one/feed/ 1 http://jointcontrast.com/2009/07/till-the-casket-drops-malice-is-on-his-vlog/ http://jointcontrast.com/2009/07/till-the-casket-drops-malice-is-on-his-vlog/#comments Wed, 15 Jul 2009 10:54:35 +0000 J. Charles http://jointcontrast.com/?p=2332 By – Steve P.

Shortly after former Clipse manager, Anthony ”Geezy” Gonzalez, was charged with running a $10-million a year drug ring, one-half of “crack rap’s” dynamic duo started blessing us with the greatest video blogging (VLOG) series in the history of hip hop.

Malice, the often overlooked and completely underrated brother of the best duo in rap (yes, they’re the best until Andre 3000 is kidnapped by the Dungeon Family and forced to rap again; or Pimp C rises from the dead) began releasing these brilliant mini-movies that challenge every stereotype ever thrown at hardcore hip hop.

Intelligent and insightful, not to mention ridiculously entertaining and well-shot, these VLOG’s, as well as the Clipse music, are giving the hardcore heads cause to be proud of their genre as well as incentive to never have to listen to whiny, off-beat nerd rap again when searching for intellect in our entertainment.

If you don’t have time to watch them all, be sure to check out Episode 2, it’s insane. Also, be sure to check for Till the Casket Drops late this summer dropping on Columbia Records. Rick Rubin (co-chairman at Columbia) is rumored to have produced a few cuts for the album!

Malice Video Blog 1 from Malice of the Clipse on Vimeo.

Malice Video Blog 2 from Malice of the Clipse on Vimeo.

Malice Video Blog 3 from Malice of the Clipse on Vimeo.

Malice Video Blog 4 from Malice of the Clipse on Vimeo.

Malice Video Blog 5 from Malice of the Clipse on Vimeo.

Please, stop me from rambling on and on if you’re already familiar with this particular automobile device. It blinks, to the left and to the right, with the idea of alerting other drivers on the roadways of your intentions to either turn or switch lanes.

Ironically enough, it’s called a turn signal. It’s conveniently located in front of you as you drive, and happens to be more vital to your safety then even the seat belt. But evidently most people have no fucking idea where to find it, much less know how the fuck to use it. Thankfully, it’s quit simple to find though. Even easier to use. Join me as I walk you through a short tutorial.

First, sit your retarded ass in the driver’s seat of any car you shall choose and stare at the steering wheel in front of you. (The fact that you immediately buckled-up really pisses me off, by the way.) We’re not going anywhere. Just stare at the fucking steering wheel. (I’m now realizing that seatbelts were originally created because of people like you.) Assholes such as yourself have been causing accidents for far too long. So pay close attention. What you are about to learn is vital to the well being of the rest of us driving around.

You see that object sticking out to the left of the shaft behind the steering wheel? It might also have the controls to your headlights, which I hope you already know how to operate. Well, simply put, before you ever decide to turn the car left (or even think about swerving to the left, in your case) push that thing down towards the floor. Likewise if ever you need to make a right turn (or even think about swerving to the right.) Just flip that thing towards the sky. An arrow should begin blinking before you, indicating which command you happened to choose. On the outside of your car other drivers, such as myself, can see the blinking too, in effect giving us a fair chance to avoid your should-not-be-permitted-to-drive-ass from causing an accident.

See how easy that is? Maybe next time I won’t have to pull up beside you and inadvertently teach your kids some new cuss words and watch your wife’s jaw sag down below her breasts in disbelief, after nearly rear-ending your dumb ass in a 45-mph zone.

Now, I’ve got a pretty good idea what you might like to scream back at me at this very moment, if only you had the balls to. “You were driving over the speed limit and riding my bumper!” Well of course I was, you piece of shit. I’ve got places to be. And as usual, I’m running late. So get the fuck out the way. Or at least give me the heads-up first (with a turn signal) before you actually do plan to let me get by.

Oh, and for the record, I didn’t realize you had kids in the car with your unsafe ass. Otherwise I may have settled with simply spitting a loogie through my passenger window, into your face.

Besides, by following these simple rules (which you should have learned way back before you were even issued the permission to drive) you might just save your own life. Or at least avoid the road rage from civilized assholes such as myself.

I wrote this whole thing on my Blackberry. I’ve been so fucking lame about writing and JC is such a slave driver that I was able to fuck off for weeks. My fans nearly rioted.

I’m at my friends Mike and Megan’s house, fat from some wicked seitan and rice. My vegan soul satisfied, I’m buzzing to The New Lows‘ practice session. CD release show means extra practice. For me, it means a free meal and loss of hearing. Good times.

I’ve been struggling to be inspired to write. Nothing new really. It’s cyclical. My cycles are stretching for longer and longer periods. (Is writing better as a flowing but thought-through stream of conscious or should clever metaphors and witty reasoning, however contrived, define better writing? Guess which wave I’m riding. Seriously, that was not a clever metaphor.)

So here I am, Red Stripe and tree-powered, Jamaica fully represented in my white veins, trying to break out of a writing slump by trying something new. The keys are small, but I can still type fast. I’m dazed enough to not know yet if this sucks. I’m sure it can’t be worse than someone lifecasting.

Weird reference.

No doubt something is wrong. So little cursing. I think I’m too at ease. Even the Supreme Court ain’t lookin’ too bad these days. Sure, plenty’s fucked (yes!), but it’s not like the military kidnapped our president, tossed him in a helicopter and dropped him in Costa Rica. Honduras, represent!

So, I don’t know. Maybe I’ve lost my edge. I doubt it. It’s temporary. It better be. It will be. The band’s done practicing. My thumbs are tired of this. I’m glad to be back.

Hop on the bandwagon while seats are still available. United States Soccer is the talk of the sports world (or should be) now that they wrapped up their first-ever trip to a world final in improbable fashion on Wednesday. It goes without saying though that many didn’t believe the U.S. had much of a chance against the best soccer team on the planet before the two faced off in the FIFA Confederations Cup in South Africa.

Against Spain, the U.S. was matched against a team riding a world record 15-game winning streak, one that had not suffered a loss over the stretch of their last 35 matches. In short, the doubters were proven wrong to some degree. And Team USA saved themselves the embarrassment of explaining why they were even in the semifinals in the first place.

That the U.S., ranked No. 14 in the world, managed to back their way into this final-four matchup against No. 1 Spain was a miracle in itself. The fact that they backed it up with a 2-0 win to advance to the Confed Cup Final should go a long way in creating some excitement back here in the States before next year’s World Cup rolls around.

But should fans expect these types of wins on a regular basis? It’s unlikely that they will.

Despite how they got there, the U.S. showed signs of being a worthy opponent. But by capitalizing on two of just nine shots, the American team played with its back against the wall most of the way. Yet somehow it worked. Goalkeeper Tim Howard received plenty of help from teammates to help hold off Spain, who went for 29 shots on goal and 17 corner kicks.

As unnerving a sport as soccer can be, where every touch on every possession could play a deciding role in the outcome of any game, there was a feeling early on that whoever scored first will have netted the game winner no matter how much time remained.

For the American team, that came in the 27th minute when 19-year old Jozy Altidore peeled a defender from his back and sent a shot that deflected off the keeper’s hand, which then bounced off the left post and into the goal to give Spain it first deficit of the tournament. They never recovered.

As the numbers showed, Spain proceeded to miss out on opportunities time and time again throughout the remainder of the game. Even so, with each attempt at heckling the U.S. goalkeeper with shots you got the feeling that they would somehow find a way to eventually knot the score. That was until the 74th minute when the game all but came to an end once Clint Dempsey cleaned up on a deflected Landon Donovan shot for the underdog’s second goal of the game.

Such a sweet victory for a team that has managed only a handful through the years. This moment in U.S. Soccer ranks right up there among the brightest in the program’s history, alongside the likes of the 1950 World Cup win over England (1-0), 1994 World Cup win over Columbia (2-1), 1998 Gold Cup win over No. 1-ranked Brazil (1-0) and the 2002 World Cup wins over both Portugal (3-2) and Mexico (2-0).

Spain advanced to the Confed Cup semifinals by sweeping through group play (against South Africa, Iraq and New Zealand) behind the efforts of David Villa and Fernando Torres. Both lined up against the Americans having already scored three goals each. They left the pitch after hardly playing a factor.

The U.S. squad went a lousy 1-2 in group play, dropping matches to Brazil and Italy by a combined 6-1 margin. They advanced to elimination play, over the Italians, based on an improbable goal differential tiebreaker after Italy lost by three goals to Brazil and the American team defeated Egypt by three goals a couple days earlier.

Take a deep breath and process that for a moment. For now, the U.S. is assured its best finish in the Confed Cup after previously wrapping up third-place efforts. They’ll meet up in the championship game against the winner of Thursday’s Brazil-South Africa match on Sunday at 2 p.m.

A couple muggy nights ago, as I made my way home from a long road trip, I decided to make a quick pit stop at the most widely known of all fast food joints, McDonald’s.

I try not to frequent such places anymore but every now and then I choose convenience over cautiousness, forgoing healthier alternatives for an oversaturation in culinary heroin.

Guess I’ve been away for a while. Mickey D’s has a newer, bigger burger for drive-thru nation to overstuff their cheeks with. And they seem pretty proud of these burgers made of Angus beef, for whatever that’s worth to the unsuspecting consumer. These new creations come in a noticeably larger box and are an overserving of a one-third pound of livestock. More meat, more bun, and of course those two pieces of cheese that fast food crack heads can’t get enough of.

Of the three Angus choices available I decided to try the mushroom-swiss burger. This, after staying committed to chicken and fish from my “normal” dinner menus as of late. But then out came the cup from behind the counter with my receipt, and the reality that I not only was getting the burger, but a soda and fries to top it all off. Guess everybody needs a Value Menu in these tough economic times.

I remind the lady behind the counter “I only wanted the burger,” though to no avail. Keep the line moving, I figured. Apparently nobody orders just a sandwich these days. On to filling up my cup with soda. “Sorry for the wait,” she says as the food finally lands on the counter. Her last words being “it’s new, we had to make it fresh” (with a smile.) I knew I should have waited until I got home to eat.

Yet what did I do? I stuffed my face like any good American would. Although, I only made my way through half of that Angus meat before pitching the rest of the dead cow in the trash. Bigger isn’t always better, so the saying goes. I can’t imagine these things becoming a permanent fixture on the menu. But then what the hell do I know? At least the fries were nice and hot.