I'm not sure if it was the difficulty in finding an emotional connection in just a few quick pages or what the deal was, but with the exception of Shaun Simon's killer opener, the pieces were all totally forgettable the second you were done reading them.

Marco Castiello's art is helped along in the aesthetic consistency department with nice color from Gabe Eltaeb, and even lettering from Michael Heisler (the team from the "regular" Brian Wood Star Wars), but the art itself is littered with awkward proportions and weird posturing.

Matt Hawkins has clearly done his research, everything from legal defenses around dissociative episodes, to the perception of PTSD as "weakness" in military culture, all embodied in the plight of Navy SEAL Morgan, the guy who helped save David a while back. This is a well-intentioned issue, a good cause, a decent issue that sees David trying to do something to help vs. just weaponizing all of this R&D technology. Hawkins is even donating 25 cents of every extra dollar for this 68 page thing, and that's all admirable, but I still felt that as a single comic, it was a bit all over the place.

Injustice stands completely outside the continuity of the dreck New 52 and the results are highly-charged action with serious consequences. The integrity of the writing jumps up because of that, the excitement inherent in it all jumps us, and it's just better

With the sort of ronin theme underlying things, it's hard not to make the obvious comparison to Lone Wolf & Cub, then just throw in a dash of Saga, since events are narrated from the POV of the infant baby in retrospect. It's one of the (few) things I love about Saga, so it was a welcome hook to see that play out as No meets Hope. I'm on board for this ongoing series.

I still maintain that WB will be crazy for not exercising their built-in option on Vertigo properties and milking The Wake; Scott Snyder has delivered a cool world-build surrounding an alt future America, which has the right level of pop for an adaptation to film.

Yet another obstacle (again, I'll blame Marvel Editorial) has been interruption of some of Wood's intended story throughlines by company crossover events. It feels now as if the title is getting back on track, sort of resetting Wood's original ideas while gearing up for another conflict, and in the process addressing things like Jubilee's vampirism, the true nature of Shogo, and John Sublime's relationship with Rachel and the rest of the team. I'm curious to see how these things resolve.

It doesn't always feel cohesive, but there's something still oddly compelling about Casey's willingness to substitute repressed sexuality for superheroics in a post-action treatise on "what happens after the shared universe concept?"

In the meantime, this was one of the strongest issues to date! Dolph and Cha-Cha steal the show, manipulating Junior in such a devastating way. It's a sequence guest-illustrated by Chris Peterson that's smartly wedged into their grand gestures in the pits of a club. Junior does pull a bit of a Season 4 Tyrion, if you'll pardon the expression, but overall it's another solid issue that showcases Saturn City as a living breathing entity full of many moving parts and players.

The Fuse is an ideal stepping stone into Johnston's larger body of work, come for the high concept hook, but stay for the quality of craft on display.

It's a bit of a talky issue, but we get to meet Klem's son and the complications that brings, more of the FLF is explained, and there's even some notes in the letters about gender politics in pop fiction. Justin Greenwood's art seems to grow and evolve with every project, here it's the backdrops in Central Park, with a sense of depth and layers that were perhaps missing from some of his very early work, visually extending Antony Johnston's already strong world-build. Ralph wanted to further indoctrinate himself in the intricacies of Midway culture, and uhh, be careful what you wish for! #SpringRolls

As great as the writing is, a lot of the razzle dazzle in this issue comes from artist Justin Greenwood. Specifically, he's killing it on panel layouts. Now, some of this might be scripted, but he really nails the static emulation of video feed in the Boo confessional. It sort of scrolls right off of a full bleed page. I also really enjoyed Klem's memories flooding back to her when she's holding a bottle of pills. It's the kind of thing we've all experienced, something more easily done in film with voice over sound clips, but takes a special talent to pull off on a comic page.

It's getting a little old hat to continually express how consistently enjoyable this title is. Although Brent Anderson is absent this issue, the inclusion of artist Graham Nolan is a nice aesthetic fit, and it doesn't stop Kurt Busiek from doing what he does best, showcasing alt POV stories that push hard on world-building. The story of the Gentleman Bandit is just such a tale, one that fleshes out stray corners of the universe, while capturing a tone of regret, brushes with fame, and a compulsion to do what the heart wants, despite the brain knowing better.

The unapologetic and unflinching nature of the writing is matched in tone by Mike Dowling's versatile art, able to pull off the gritty details or the intense emotions, working on the small sale or with very grand displays of immense power, like the battle at sea. There's a real sense of consequence to Death Sentence, something desperately missing in this genre.

I've been championing this series down at the LCS as one of the best books of the year, and encouraging people not to dismiss it as a Hollywood vanity project just because Alyssa Milano's name is attached. Hacktivist is the real deal. With only one issue left, I'll be sad to see it end. But, here's hoping that Archaia will collect it in a swanky hardcover with their lush production values, and it'll experience multiple lives, first in the book market, and then for the horde at SDCC this year.

With recent developments around the world, glossed over bits like US Aid's so-called "Cuban Twitter" losing out to air time in favor of pap like Kim and Kanye, Hacktivist is one of the most socially relevant works out there at the moment. I'm sad to see the series go at just four issues, though the way it ended certainly leaves it open for further adventures in the future. I'm also happy to see that Archaia will have a swanky hardcover collection out in July (ideally in time for SDCC), with an introduction by Twitter's own Jack Dorsey, thus exposing the work to throngs of new fans. I'll certainly be upgrading to the hardcover for my bookshelves, and encourage the SDCC horde to do the same.

It's rare that you feel you have no idea where a series will go next, and that's part of the high I get from Letter 44. I'm really excited to see the next one-shot issue, with art by Joelle Jones.

Starlight sort of reminds me of something like The Last Starfighter, a piece of pop culture that embraces the camp of its own tropes and just charges confidently forward.

From singular events like a bomb in downtown San Francisco, to genetically manipulated foods and mass extinction, the world-build has the characters agonizing over every decision, and creating a taut drama for the audience.

Joshua Hale Fialkov seems to be a rising star, and when he's paired with stylish artists like Joe Infurnari, the results are pretty great. Infurnari has a sketchy quality to his art that captures the tenuous grip on reality that the characters must be feeling. There's a sequence here where Heidi is depicted in a washed out white color that emphasizes the emotional void she must be feeling too. It's a smart book that has the potential to be one of the great modern mysteries.

I see that thread in The Woods as characters' strengths and weaknesses start to emerge, and the story identifies the alpha members of the group and the more passive followers. I think this is going to be good, so come for the sci-fi hook of the premise, but stay for the interpersonal dynamics that form a thrilling high-stakes drama.

We essentially follow Scully and his young companion Wynn on their trek across the ice to find food, shelter, and basic survival. Dixon is sure to drop in little world-building nods to their location, like the Panama Canal in this issue, that really amp up the amount of change present in their reality, and suck readers like me right in, people who are predisposed to gravitate toward tales centering on when the world just flat out breaks. Guice is a perfect addition to the series, with a style that takes all the harsh environmental qualities of someone like Steve Lieber, but inhabits them with softer lines for the figures, in order to really draw out the emotion.

In the Arrochar Mountain Ranger sequence, there's a small goof where one of Luke's speech balloons is attributed to a Ranger, but otherwise this was an extremely solid issue that shows success is about more than equipment and brave pilots, yet without adequate tech being used as a tool, victory can also be hampered. There's a precarious balance to warfare, and the creative team captures the feeling of the rebels being perpetually on the run against great odds, politically, personally, and militarily.

This issue mostly advances the plot machinations of the dubious dealings of some of the Arrochar factions, and leads right up to a very rousing cliffhanger promising loads of frantic action. There's apparently only 3 issues of this run left, so I'm curious where the arc will end.

This run is the last great Dark Horse contribution to the Star Wars property, and I'm already sad to see it go.

There's a slightly, let's call it "not-quite-supernatural" turn that the story takes, but I'm still in. One can only hope that the hordes of fans who dug Aaron's Marvel work and followed him to Southern Bastards will go back and read Scalped, which was his breakout creator owned book before creator owned books became all the rage.

Jason Aaron is smart to address the motivation of Earl. It's not just mindless country violence, Earl needs a purpose, to live for something, whether it's stepping out of daddy's shadow, or not just going trough the motions of his life in Birmingham, and he's even coming to terms with that: "You're dead." "Nah. For the first time in forever" I don't think I am." Well, cast my vote for Tad as my favorite new sidekick. If that all isn't good enough, there's even a Country Fried Lettercol and a Fried Apple Pie recipe courtesy of Mama Aaron!

Dead Body Road also earned some credibility with me because it lives in the gray space between absolute morality and polarized villainy. There's no sense of "bad guys" and "good guys" to be found alongDead Body Road, not really. There are men who do some bad things, but they can also be fair with the awful shit they're capable of, some sort of twisted "honor among thieves" ethos that pervades this world of memorable but human criminals and conflicted cops. In a nutshell, Dead Body Road feels like Ed Brubaker meets Quentin Tarantino. It's modern noir with high-interest style points. I'll never get tired of saying this, but Image Comics has another hit on their hands.

Pretty Deadly has the epic and emotional sweep of a book like Saga, but with the mystery and intrigue of East of West, that willingness to engage readers to work for clues in a post-apocalyptic setting that leverages more dusty dirty western elements than sci-fi infusion.

One need only look at work like DMZ and The Massive to know that Wood has dealt in things like global economic collapse, global climate change, or military adventurism run amok. And while that tendency toward the post-apocalyptic crashing down is present in Starve for contextual reasons, Wood is smart to ground the story in personal struggle. It's fabulous world-building.

I enjoyed the investigative slant to the arctic poppies bits (and that whole set, that whole cast, by extension), but it's important to note that's just one of several continuing vignettes the series is offering. Taken holistically, all of the sequences are essentially representative of the effects the trees are having on global life, impacting social and political structures as much as they're altering weather patterns and flora and fauna.

There's no omniscient narration, no characters talking at the audience, the clues are there if you want to interact with them. Why would you want it any other way? It's the kind of fiction I like to consume. It's an intelligent writer treating his writing as if intelligent people are going to consume it.

Individual comics are sometimes treated as throwaway items by even the people who create them, but Johnston, Mitten, Boyd, and Mauer treat them as lost artifacts of some depth, as a tactile objet d'art which can be pored over, line, verse, and panel, inviting the audience to linger for the enveloping experience.

Well, the end of the first arc comes to a close (brief pause as the trade comes out next month, and then issue #7 hits in July!) as Rascal and company apparently head out of Strakhelm to deal with the Oculus, and I'm already excited to see more of this new world.

I think it's Eisner Nomination time for Thomas Mauer. I've been astounded by the magic symbolettering in previous issues, and here it's the subtlety of the letters fading out, and then back in as Rascal is transported to the Umbral.

Manifest Destiny is a good example of how to play up true horror, wherein one of the scariest things imaginable is the unknown, and what your mind will involuntarily create to fill the void. The last page has a ridiculous amount of detail, and it just shows how much the creative team has invested in the building of this world. It's a clear passion project, the results of which have a tremendous impact.

Despite their heavy losses, the Corps trudges forward essentially reliant on their burgeoning American Spirit, a sense of the hopeful amid the horrific. The creative team also indicates that the narrative plan is to move the Corps of Discovery all the way to the Pacific Ocean and traverse back across the Louisiana Purchase for what should be an extended run. I couldn't be happier about all that story left on the horizon. This is good comics, and if you're not checking it out, you're missing one of the best books of the year.

The work of Chris Dingess, Matthew Roberts and Owen Gieni is one of those rare examples of composed parts working in perfect harmony to create something greater than themselves. It's what happens when all of the cylinders are firing in perfect sync. It's the ring of accuracy to the historical fiction writing, the way the impressive art and some of the best coloring happening in the industry right now creates stark contrast between the metals and bold colors of the soldiers in relief against the greens and browns of the natural world, the hook of the high concept hook, the invention of the zipline(!), and how one big fucking mosquito create one of the best series of 2014.

Ryan K. Lindsay's backmatter about Near Earth Objects is an interesting stand-in for any foreign object which has an impact on the kno n world, and caps off an OMFG cliffhanger that'll that'll leave you fist-pumping until the next issue ships.

I continue to be impressed by the combination of Johnnie Christmas' art and Shari Chankhamma's color, I mean, just look at the noses, it's all about the noses! The way they glow warm from the cold environment, the lighting on them is just superb. Christmas is able to carry so much emotion in the facial characteristics, just look at wild-eyed Victoria trying to plead her case. I also really enjoyed the nuclear primer in the backmatter by Ryan K. Lindsay, which essentially debunks the realities of post-nuclear detonation. It's a crime that this book was not nominated for Best New Series in the Eisner Awards this year. #TeamVictoria

At the end, Lucas tries to recapture some of the moral high ground, and with only 6 issues remaining, I've never been more excited to see how it'll all unfold.

I've always enjoyed Ed Brisson's writing on Sheltered, but I have to say that I've been consistently captivated by the strength of the art, particularly the great pairing of Johnnie Christmas and Shari Chankhamma. They just have a way of bringing such a warm glow to the page, and it's so pleasing to the eyes.

A Voice In The Dark is one of the surprise hits of the year, a truly hidden gem in the marketplace. I highly recommend it, and this could be the best issue of the series to date.

I don't think people realize what an important book A Voice In The Dark has grown to become in the space of just seven issues. It plays with taboos, from relatively tame consensual bondage kink, to the mix of violence and sexuality, to the depiction of female leads in fiction, to heteronormative stereotypes about the female figure and beauty, to just what the hell is going on in the minds of our Gen Y Millennials these days.

As if Marcus didn't have enough going on, he gets in the middle of Chico and Maria, creating a literal threat to his life, and a more figurative threat to his developing feelings about another character. With some bonus process backmatter, this is the best issue of the series to date. It has action galore and finally bears a strong thematic constant. It's existential meaning amid an adrenaline-fueled fight or flight episode. #SorryT

Wes Craig might just be my new favorite artist, with interesting camera angles (the high overhead shots really do it for me) and crisp figure work that stays so sharply on model. It'd be easy to get lost in the satisfying action and violence, but those things are empty gestures without some emotional core to hold onto. We get that emotion in the final sequences of the issue, the narrative centering on five characters with a solemn bit of introspection that weaves in what I assume are autobiographical elements from the writer. This was a fantastic conclusion to the first arc, some real artistry on display, and I'm highly recommending it.

One of my favorite single issues of all time is called "Eternity In An Hour," and appeared in The Spectre #13, by JM DeMatteis & Ryan Sook. Wasteland #52 is similar in the way it marries Antony Johnston's free-floating text with the stark lustrous imagery of Christopher Mitten.

There's something to be said for this level of passion and dedication. Wasteland is sadly a dying breed of the comic book species.

I've never been more excited about Wasteland, something crazy to say about any series at #54, because the anticipation building for years is all paying off in spectacular fashion.

It's a selfish move, but I want to give Johnston some static for not making Michael's #7 designation #13 instead! I've loved this book from the start, but I love this issue more than most in recent memory. Honestly, it's a shitty time to jump onto this book with only 4 issues remaining, so do yourself a favor and grab that first trade!

The Massive is built in the grey zone between action and the justification of action. Everything in this series is conflict and in conflict -- dichotomies all the way down. For a bunch of characters bent on protecting the planet's dwindling resources, the amount of tolerance the crew aboard The Kapital shows philosophically and on a daily basis fits in a thimble. Their justifications are nothing more than their own personal politics masquerading as code.

Mary intimates that we all have our own histories, and that foreshadowing echoes what’s to come, the ripple effect of personal histories that will play on the present. I especially liked the dialogue in this issue, not only because it starts to answer some of the questions – or initiates the right conversations at least, but also because the characters act like adults trying to resolve conflict with other adults they either fear, respect, or care for. They’re not petulant kids or silly capes who kick and curse and spit and call each other motherfucker with empty bluster. The conversations between Cal and Yusup, or Cal and Mag, or Cal and Arkady, there’re so many choice options to pull from, are all direct and reasonable as the Arkady plot thread gets resolved. Dealing with history allows the crew some forward motion. Cal does a deed, admits he was wrong, is direct about his health, and there’s something of a new b

Jordie Bellaire deserves some special recognition for her work on this arc. Her colors are very crisp over Danijel Zezelj's art (if you made me pick my favorite art collaborator for Wood, I'd consider him for sure), which I think is tough to do when he slathers on so much rich ink. She sure deserves an Eisner Award.

Brian Wood continues to make a series of suggestions like this in a startling montage sequence in this issue. Danijel Zezelj kills it in that sequence, capturing grandeur and power and sadness, as we witness man's "progress" on Planet Earth.

There's an image of Mary crawling out of the sea as an infant which is basically the key to understanding the entire series. It's perhaps an unlikely signpost indicating where The Massive sits in genre terms, the notion that it's probably not (just) post-apocalyptic despite its obvious trappings. Ultimately, it's a sci-fi story, and like a lot of high-quality, high-interest sci-fi, it's a parable about lost opportunities, squandered potential, and a general warning about The State of Things. If you're one of those pop culture consumers who was frustrated by the finale of Battlestar Galactica, then maybe(?) you're not going to enjoy this thread of The Massive.

It's really heating up, and we're finally starting to see the big picture of what the series is actually about.

As for the "mansions" of Eel Mansions, my mind turns to Simonides and his memory palaces -- a devilish mnemonic device to remember things, real or imagined, I suppose. Eel Mansions is an expansive place filled with many rooms, some cavernous, others cupboards, many turn to cul-du-sacs and all, fascinate. My favorite part of Eel Mansions exists (like many things in this book) outside of the margins and in the gutter. It reads: "To Be Continued."

This issue maybe works a little more straightforward than many of the singles, in that it's focused pretty tightly on a couple vignettes, with father-son dynamics, Death's "deal," and his subsequent search. I liked the Sea of Bones as a spiritual and physical no man's land, and it's always a treat to see wolf and his female companion doing their animorph bit. I'm starting to pay more attention to the color-coding, like the de-saturated colors in the flashbacks, and how that shapes the mood.

East of West remains one of the most imaginative books on the stands, in that I never know where it's going to go next, but it never fails to delight when it gets to its destination.

I really enjoyed the way people's value can go from waste to serf based on their abilities in this weird organic community that's been created on the march. It's no surprise around these parts that I have a thing for post-apocalyptic morality plays, and Lazarus is certainly in the top grouping of that genre, illustrating current social fears by extrapolating them to the extreme. With its commentary on resource scarcity and the rapidly expanding divide between the haves and the have nots, it's an important book that could easily be studied at the collegiate level.

While the next arc looks very intriguing and suggests a fleshing out of more families in the East, I was a little disheartened to see that in exchange for upping the price point from $2.99 to $3.50 per issue, all you get is a 5-week publication schedule instead of a 4-week turn around. Booooo. Does this mean sales of the singles are slipping? Lazarus is essentially 100% critically lauded from what I see, so that's a shame if the sales aren't corresponding because all of the punters are still favoring crap like Forever Evil instead of Forever Carlyle.

Brian Wood and Greg Smallwood's Moon Knight is a strong continuation of the Warren Ellis and Declan Shalvey incarnation, one which adds their own unique characteristics, both aesthetically and thematically. It's delightful, refreshing, and just plain cool. I think that Wood may have finally found his home in the Marvel Universe, applying his outsider ethos and indie voice to a property with mainstream appeal and rich potential. Warren Ellis and Declan Shalvey would have been a tough act for anyone to follow, but Brian Wood and Greg Smallwood have done it with grace and style.

McKelvie also seems to be stretching his already glorious abilities, infusing the clean austerity of his lines with more static and chatter in scenes like the delightful descent to the underground, and the very nature of The Morrigan. There's also one of the best renditions of Lucifer this side of him abdicating the throne, tossing Morpheus the key to the gates of hell, and just... leaving in Sandman (which will forever be one of my Lucifer Portrayal Gold Standards).