The JAM Portfolio by S. Clay Wilson & Jon Gierlich __—— “We thought if two artists could drop their egos and not have a pissing contest, they could create a body of art." S.Clay Wilson “JAM Portfolio" co-creator 'Gross'comics critique 1970s society, politics BY MELANIE MENSCH No one flinches these days when a parental advisory label is slapped on a CD, movie or television show. But a comic strip? Cartoon lovers, beware: These aren’t your Sunday comics. The “JAM Portfolio by S. Clay Wilson and Jon Gierlich” resem ble hellish versions of “Where’s Waldo,” oozing so much societal stench, it’s gross. But that's the point. Raunchy sex, violent rape, futuristic warfare and terror, excessive boozing, protruding nipples and bulging crotches replace the usual feel-good quality of cartoons with a grotesque profanity only seen in underground comics. Using their drawings as arsenal, Wilson and Gierlich took direct aim at American social and political excesses in the late 1960s. Wilson, a Lincoln native, met Gierlich in the mid-1960s while studying art and anthropology at the University of Nebraska Lincoln. Their friendship led to a more creative relationship after their college days. During the 1970s, the two artists collaborated on cartoon strips via mail and sent the drawings back and forth. “We thought if two artists could drop their egos and not have a pissing contest, they could create a body of art together,” Wilson said. Wilson called it a “graphic chess game.” Tm* $hsmin*mn i&Hoxtf, itfty««A»c»s •** 7** m*i they wtu flfcfcvc* ***« orn** o>*t <*► eiosT^wce. ...r-.—.—..-...~. &C£*A ifo 1h£ itiftfcfe Mjftltfof iNfc fl££-Filtf-2k)£-*i>^y^ fe^£/feRof These untitled pieces of the “JAM Portfolio* were created In ink and watercol or.The project was cre ated asa comment on 1970s society. Gierlich, who then lived in Washington state, sent his pre liminary sketches to San Francisco, where Wilson added to the cartoons. Originally titled “JAM ...,” the portfolio exhibited 21 frames of drawings at the And/Or Gallery in Seattle. “It's an art-style jam session,” Wilson said. “If musicians can play together, why not let a bunch of artists get together and draw?” Judi Gierlich, Gierlich’s ex-wife who sold the artwork nearly 25 years ago to the Sheldon Memorial Art Gallery, called the collection "timely today, even after 30 years.” Using visual and textual narrative, the “JAM Portfolio” serves as a powerful critique of political, economic, religious and social institutions, Wilson said. Daniel Siedell, the Sheldon’s curator, said the drawings were unusual pieces of the gallery’s permanent collection. “A forgotten aspect of art is the audience is not necessarily us,” he said. “These illustrations were relevant to society in the 1970s. It’s important to see these as a part of a moment in a cul ture.” The "JAM Portfolio” still makes an impact on its viewers 30 years after its conception, Wilson said. “A friend called to tell me that a few high school kids were going ape shit in the gallery where the comics are,” Wilson said. “The kids were sitting on the floor holding their own JAM ses sion. “It’s good to get feedback and reaction like that. It's like a fresh breeze.” Bizkit love softens angst BY ANDREW SHAW It’s Limp Bizkit’s comeback album. All you TRLers out there may say, “But they’ve been here the whole time!” Yes, they’ve done their time with Carson and even might refer to him as a “friend.” But the Limp Bizkit on “Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water” is the rock band I fell in love with four years ago, not the TV-friendly, pass your-buck-my-way hip-hop band of the last two years. I’ve been in college 2 Vi years; I’m into the relaxed schedule of classes and video games without worrying about much, but upon the first listen of “Chocolate Starfish,” I was reminded of why I was rebelling for all those years in high school. I can still find novelty in a band who finds 54 places to use the word “fuck” in one song. But this Limp Bizkit doesn’t just play the novelty card any more. Yeah, we all did it for the nookie, but Fred Durst, the front Bizkit, shows signs of intelligence on "Chocolate Starfish.” He knows he’s preaching to the offspring of fans of the Who and other art-rock bands, and it's no mistake that the anthem of angst on this album is “My —Cme: Generation.” Durst even stutters his “g-g-generation" like Roger Daltry on the 1967 original. But “My Generation” isn’t a cover, it’s this millennium's expla nation of tiie abuse that teens per ceive from adults. “Go ahead and talk shit about me / go ahead and talk shit about my g-g-genera tion.” The aggression is the musical outpouring of what we all felt when we were ignored and placat ed in our high school social stud ies classes, and it speaks to the hearts of our younger siblings’ experiencing it now. This album is not just filled with incessantly powerful and vio lent songs. Limp Bizkit shows its "soft” side on uncharacteristic songs such as “The One,” a love song with lyrics directed toward an unknown woman. In the song, Durst says this woman may be “the one” but that he’s still feeling unsure. Whoa, Freddy! This display of affection seems out of place on a Limp Bizkit album but is very wel come. If “The One” exhibits any thing, it is that happiness can find its way, even in a world seemingly filled with hate and anguish. This comment shows a matu ration of the band, allowing its facade of tough-guy rock stars to fall temporarily into real emo tions. Don’t be dismayed by “Significant Other,” Limp Bizkit’s sophomore album, because the real band is back, ready to kick ass and show that it has more to offer than the hate-mongers of the industry. Clumsy boyfriend drops movie into familiar humor BY GEORGE GREEN In a clean and simple fashion, “Meet the Parents” tickles bursts of laughter from audience members’ bellies throughout the entire movie. Ben Stiller plays Greg Focker, a young man plagued by a humorous last name. (It’s pro nounced exactly the way it is spelled.) He wants to ask approval from his girlfriend’s father to marry her. Focker, as all characters affectionately call him, gets whisked away with his girlfriend, Pam Byrne (Teri Polo), to meet her parents and attend her sister’s wedding. As soon as the young couple pulls up to Jack Byrne’s (Robert De Niro) house, it becomes apparent that poor Focker is in for a long week end. Following the style of other great actors who stumble into trouble, such as Chevy Chase in “Christmas Vacation,” Stiller manages to cause some seriously hilarious damage during his 72 hour visit. His clumsy, good-guy role is similar to the simple-and-loving admirer part he played in “There’s Something about Mary.” In both cases, Stiller is a big-hearted bumbler whose cards will not fall the way he wants them to. And when his cards happen to land on the table, something embarrassingly funny shortly follows. Perhaps Stiller has a taste of chronic screw-up syndrome in real life; he plays poor Focker remark ably well. But Focker’s inadequacies don’t account for all of the audience mem bers’ giggles. De Niro does a good job playing an overly protec tive and para noid father. He snoops into Focker’s miserable life using techniques he learned while working as an inter rogator for the CIA. Byrne warns Focker that he is always watching. Byrne drives his old-man’s luxury sedan, com plains about Focker’s behavior and meticulously plans his daughter’s wedding in a way that only a bitter old man could understand. But he does it in a way that makes the rest of us explode in full-body laughter. De Niro and Stiller accentuate each other’s roles well and have launched “Meet the Parents" into the No. 1 movie spot in America. From its perch atop the movie billboards, “Meet the Parents" promises to keep audiences rolling with laughter for weeks to come.