Mantalo [Ongoing Series]

Foreword

I’d never quite understood the allure of writing fan-fic. Truthfully, I’d always regarded it as a waste of time. Why write about someone else’s characters when you could use it as a jumping off point for original stories of your own? I was certain I’d never sully my hands with such things, that is until I started seeking publication.

You see, there are two stories you’re bound to hear at any writers’ conference or work-shop. The first is about J.K Rowlings, who was supposedly living as a vagrant until publishing the Harry Potter novels and sky-rocketing to fame. Having found myself a regular in the unemployment line as of recent, this story was initially inspiring to me. However, getting published isn’t something you just show up and do on a free evening. Even if you go the self-publication route, there’s an extraordinary amount of editing, rewrites, not to mention marketing that goes into getting your wares discovered. 

The second story that inevitably will find it’s way to your ear is about E.L James, author of “50 Shades of Grey”. Legend has it that this author originally got attention for herself by writing a Twilight Fan-fic. It is said, that this fan-fic was so resplendent, that an agent (or publisher, the stories vary a bit) immediately signed her and the rest my friends, is history.

I can’t vouch for the authenticity of either of these fables. Nor have I read 50 Shades of Grey. I mean no offense to James or her fans but the subject of sexual domination just isn’t my cup of tea.

I haven’t read Stephanie Meyers “Twilight” either, though I hear good things. I suppose my hesitance comes from the fact that the characters involved are high-school students, and truthfully, I can’t say that my high-school years are ones I’d want to relive. Those poor sparkly vampires, I honestly can’t imagine anything pleasant that might result from eternal condemnation to a teenage body. It’s actually the subject of a recurrent nightmare I have…but I digress.

The beauty of writing a fan-fic, as I have now discovered, is essentially this; you are given the opportunity to display your writing style without sacrificing your original characters to the cesspool of plagiarism that is the internet.

My interests are far less…well, sexy than E.L James. Eroticism is not something I’m well acquainted with. Chalk it up to lack of experience I suppose. Honestly, I would think it perfectly inconsiderate to inflict my rather homily self upon someone else’s bed-chamber. Even if I were to relent, there seems to be a great deal of awkward posturing, sweating and a tremendous sacrifice of personal space all for the benefit of experiencing a tingling in the crotch for a matter of mere seconds.  No, I’m not conversant in the language of romance, yet it seems that such matters are the very bread and butter of fan-fic in general.

I instead chose to busy myself with decidedly less sensual fair. I’m fond of old Hanna-Barbera cartoons, slap-stick comedy, comic-books, dirty-jokes, jazz manouche, bossa-nova, 80’s rock (and damn near anything with a horn section.) I’m an aficionado of sci-fi in all it’s many flavours and bad shark movies. It’s a melange of great tastes that taste revolting together, sort of like vomit.

Still, I’m always up for a challenge, and from this mental hodge-podge I was able to cook up something I hope you’ll find vaguely palatable, or at least amusing.  With a surprisingly minimal amount of shame I have decided to post my uncompromisingly bizarre Jabber-Jaw fan fic. Yes, Jabber-Jaw, the cartoon from the late 1970’s which falls into the meddling kids genre. I’ve transplanted it into the universe in my novel series, “Sewage In The Bloodline” flash forward 179 years into the future.

For the uninitiated, JabberJaw was more or less a hybrid of Josie and the Pussycats with Scooby Doo. Set in 2076, it’s a fine example of 70’s retro-futurism. However unlike so many visions of tomorrow, which employ outer-space as their backdrop, Jabberjaw proposes a future where domed underwater habitats and submersible vehicles are the norm. It’s certainly a more pragmatic approach.

Of course where it was truly innovative was in the inclusion of the titular character, Jabber-Jaw, a shark who played drums, talked like Curly Howard and quoted Rodney Dangerfield. What’s not to love?

These epic tales of daring do were released in the French language as a series of comic-books, where Jabber-Jaw was re-christened Mantalo. This is the name you will see predominately in use here. I also elected to use the band instrumentation depicted in a Cartoon Network Short, still in circulation of the Boomerang network, view it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn1pf0Xi3nU I can suspend my disbelief for a talking shark, but I simply cannot fathom a band, where one member is tasked with playing the tambourine exclusively (as was the case with Shelly LaMarine in the original 1976 incarnation).

Why Bother?

While the assertion may strike you as silly, in hindsight Jabberjaw was actually was a major advancement in efforts still underway to combat the demonization of sharks in the social consciousness. Images of sharks as violent, malicious creatures, perpetuated by films such as Jaws, have made it difficult to gather support for protecting the various species in our waters. Sharks, being an apex predator, serve an important role in the preservation of our ecosystem.

Ironically enough, and this is my own observation, the current trend of creating B-grade shark cinema, such as Sharktopus, Two Headed Shark Attack and Sharknado seems to have countered the Jaws-effect. The cartoonish, slap-stick level of viciousness, rivalled only by Godzilla epics, seems to have endeared sharks to people. These latest incarnations of everyone’s favourite cartilaginous fish are one step away from dropping anvils on their victims and the audience is eating it up. I am at least.

If you are a shark lover, or are ready to become one, check out http://www.sharktruth.com/ for more info on saving sharks from extinction.

So without further adieu, I invite you into the gritty, post-apocalyptic world of Mantalo.