Tourist Lanes - Jeff Greenspan

After Mayor Bloomberg gave his thumbs up on the idea of tourist lanes on New York City sidewalks, some Improv Everywhere performers decided to take to the streets to enforce the pedestrian penalties, making sure New Yorkers always have the right of way.

Dressing up as Department of Transportation workers, the team delegated the titles to passerbys and directed them to the appropriate lane. Tourists could now feel free to stop mid-stride in order to consult their map, window shop, or take a snapshot of their vacation outside a Starbucks.

They even went so far as to poll those test subjects for this experiment and most of the responses were in favor of citizen seperation. The video below shows Improv Everywhere, the notorious public assembly pranksters, as they show us the New Yorker's dream come true.

This idea may've been floating in the minds of many of the minds day in and day out, especially for those of us who've worked in Times Square, but it was one concerned citizen by the name of Jeff Greenspan that took to the streets to do something about it.

As a native New Yorker, Jeff knows about crowded sidewalks, whether it's in Park Slope where he was born, or in the East Village where he's lived for the last several years.

The neighborhood that was once a bohemian jungle is now the victim of capitalism and tourism dollars. Fancy boutiques and upscale restaurants tucked on old neighborhood blocks draw the out-of-towners.

So Jeff took his idea, bought a toy linemaker (later replacing it with a wheeled field marker) and a can of spray chalk, with two stencils he ordered online: NEW YORKERS & TOURISTS.

Having kicked off his idea that was part street art and part suggesting statement on Rivington in the Lower East Side (across from trendy restaurant Schiller's), he then took off for Elizabeth Street, East 3rd, and Houston, usually doing his work at 1am.

The statement got noticed and began circulating around blogs such as Gothamist, to the pages of the Daily News, to CNN online, with mentions on NY1, the Times and on the Wall Street Journal's site, the Huffington Post and Boing Boing. It was going viral.

With the first images of tourist lanes going international, Barcelona joining in on the friendly suggestion, the idea is still growing. A concept that Jeff fully embraces.

"Not only do I want to encourage others to go and draw their own lanes (in removable landscape chalk) I also want to set up a website where people can request a lane on their block."

Jeff would rather this be seen as a helpful service though, rather than a cynical statement. If Bloomberg would issue permits he'd gladly take to the busy sidewalks and draw a line in the sand.

Duffel bag, security, intent to clean.
Tourist manners, learn the language, learn the flow.
DOT apology.
PIT theatre. Bush Booth, Chicken vs Egg.
Banksy. Walkright.
Colloborations.
Shepherd Fairey.

Mercury University

Flash monthly superhero

All-Flash anthology
Mercury University
(John Fox, Jesse Chambers, Max Mercury, Xs, Tornado Twins, Cobalt Blue)

Wally in DCAU
(Walter West, Kobra, Abra Kadaver)

Impulse all ages
(Inertia, Jai West, Linda Park, Joan Garrick, LOSH)

Time travel. Cosmic Treadmill. Speed Force.
Vibrations & chemicals. Old school. (Pre school)

Rogues as elemental forces of the world
Alchemical mix, speedforce the bio-electricity, life itself.

***

Green Lantern
Green Lantern Corp

Explosion of Universe

TOURIST LANES

Jeff Greenspan
East Village
Born in Park Slope
Raised on Long Island

Shepherd Fairrey - bodyguard street art
Copywriter
Viral

NY is crazy w/tourists, Times Square
Nothing against tourists
LES, Rivington
Elizabeth St
E3rd St
Houston
1am, late night

Charlie Todd Improv Everywhere
Theatrical, Dept of Transportation
Focus group
Segregation, anti-tourists
But not

Brooklyn born, NYer.
Lots of similar minded
EV, gentrification
Bistros, cafes, tourists
Lost bohemia

Attach to tourists

Rent vs East Village life

Wash Sq Park, Times Square, Herald Square
Bloomberg Approved
Website street requests

DOT apology
Helpful service vs cynical statement
Battle for space, subway seats, sidewalk stride
Speedwalking.

Sudden stopping, caution may make sudden stops t-shirt

Map open beeping. Human Tetris.
Prevent injury.

Linemaker soccer field
Landscape chalk, spray Rust-Oleum
Grass, dirt, concrete, gravel
Stencils made online.

Duffel bag security
Surgical gloves
Orange vest, clipboard

Chalk designs on sidewalks
Two gal of cleaning fluid
Intent to clean
Vandalize, improve city

Go to another country to learn the language, learn the flow of New York City.

No previous street art. Art piece/public service.
"Next project, solve chicken vs egg, ordering from NY restaurants."

Crowdsource it. NY, community involvement.
Jeffgreenspace.com
Which comes first.com

Bush Booth
6 hour Bush video of him listening, vent to president, have him listen to our complaints, NYC, Chicago, Amsterdam.

Room for expression here, streets, galleries, restaurants.

Help solve problems or be more aware of the world around them. Art and humor to solve problems.

Cops stopped and got ice cream on 5th Ave line. 2:30 PM. Improv Everywhere.

NYers laughed. No complaints, happy to comply, agreeable. We can all get along on the streets of NYC." Not a fan of segregation, just a fan of traffic flow.

Two Tourists, rolling luggage, twice as much room taken up. 39th & 9th. Lunch break. Impossible to navigate, ban rolling luggage.

Toy linemaker, not straight line.
Never get attention that it did. Barcelona. At least make people laugh, or help people get there faster.
Comedy, news, blogs. Mark Armstrong. 5th ave.

Bowery Boogie, Rivington. EvGrieves. Time Out Tumblr.
First lines. Blogs. 99% positive comments.

Gothamist. To DN & Post. NY1.
CNN online. NY Mag. AP, San Fran, Maryland, Times, Wall Street Journal website. BoingBoing.
Huffington Post. Observer.

Anonymously famous. Embraced it. Performance.
Banksy, genius. 70's WalkRight. No made lanes.

PIT Theatre, Bush Booth, art galleries, launch from humor into art.

Great ideas, someone should do that, act on that idea, seeing it embraced, great colloborations, good intention, falling into place. Going international, sharing it, remained only an idea. Encourage take an idea and put energy behind it.

Chicken vs Egg ideas.

Humor as philosophical art.
Thatguyimet.com
Jeffgreenspan.com
Film, toughest question

Encourage people make their own lanes, surrendering the idea, borrow equipment. Extra stencils, lots of spray chalk. Open to colloborations. Permit.

New Yorkers/Terrorists
Duffel bags breed suspicion. Ski-masks. Duffel bags fill with ski-masks.

Progression of viral.

Apologies to DOT. Cleaning. 30 days. Hands & knees scrubbing it. Enviromently green.

No negative aspects. Mayor's embrace. Grant from Bloomberg. Help out the city. Request a lane.
Locals vs tourists.

Streets are a place to express themselves. Traffic did move faster that day, studies to show speed improvement. Agent Cody...

Focus group, into the idea.

News Desk / Night Shift / The News / Breaking News

A newsroom. A night crew. A web editor, a photo editor, and sports. Quiet night. Discussions of the average days stories. Mockery of celebrity, dismissal of disasters, groan at government. Packing it up for the night. Last minute checking the wire.

A skirmish in the Middle East. Major casualties. Devastation. A city we've never heard of. Annoyance at having to work on a last minute story. Text editor reads the screen, a look of horror crosses his face. Cut to photo editor, from behind we slowly pan in, looking at the pictures of utter destruction from afar. Large clouds, shapes, a great distance. Sports guy watching Spike TV.

Step by step we have them yelling back and forth as new information comes in. The ticker stops, goes blank. A few minutes pass. They huddle around one computer, looking for more and more info. Twitter is the first with photos. AP. CNN breaks video.

Reports are starting to sound like it's one person who broke free and has gone on a rampage, but that's ridiculous. They discuss superhumans, comicbooks, life & death. Mental powers. The ticker kicks back on.

Worldwide state of emergency. The phones start ringing, the chaos of a newsroom erupts, the flow of information overwhelming. They try and figure out who has information and who just wants answers. Few and far between, they find someone with answers. Their boss Ethan. He's got information that the attack is being made by a flying man.

He's rushing and on his way, catching a cab from over by the UN where he lives. Blown up, the line goes dead as a rumble, a slight tremor shakes the room. They try and call him back over and over, when suddenly a video is shown on TV. A helicopter hovers over a destroyed UN, a being standing in the middle of a crater. We get a shot of the world's first superhuman, a middle eastern man, glowing and ripped.

A energy flame whips across the screen and the figure is gone. The reporters try to explain but aren't sure. They all begin to look up information. A twitpic here. Video on youtube. Viral information flow. Drawings of the man, interpretations, theories on the energy beam. Another superhuman?

A flash of light in the high windows, vibrating glass panes, they huddle up. The power goes out. They light their lighters and head towards the exit. The newsroom rumbles. They run out front, and look down the street. Right next the the Empire State Building they see an energy flame smashing into a golden glimmer. With each crash a pulse of energy shoots out. Car alarms go off. People are running down at the end of the block behind them, running downtown.

The energy swats the glimmer and it smashes into the Empire State Building and then into the Post Office, before skipping down the street towards them. The sports guy dives to the side, pushing them aside just as the figure smashes into the pavement.

An energy glow slowly lights up the scene a bit as the trio step closer to the crater. The light passes over them as a being drops down, drifting above the fallen golden figure. Their lights play off each other like competing flames. We see the creature as the photographer lifts his camera and we see in the viewfinder for a moment and it clicks.

It turns into a still picture with the newspaper logo on the cover which becomes a giant framed cover they put on the wall, and the text editor's byline is right on front. They're telling the story as they walk along, finally telling a wounded Ethan how the creature just poofed away in the end. The sports guy's eyes glow as they walk away, him with no glory. But he's okay with that.

Addendum - Underwater Lounge Open Bar

Whiskey open bar right around the corner, so I swing by. It's the exact type of place I fucking hate. Smooth electronic r&b and plush seats, douchey clinetele, and clueless losers behind the bar. Thankfully it's about empty so there's really not that much to despise at the moment. But the open bar runs til 11pm, so let me get shitfaced before anything resembling a crowd shows up.

The bartender and this jackass with a backpack have an exchange about the bartender's 'Where the Wild Things Are' t-shirt, which he assures us that he "bought before the movie came out" as if to proclaim his originality and non-herd mentality. Obviously he's 'old school'. Hah, he's barely 21 himself and I don't remember the book that well being 12 years his senior.

I get my whiskey on the rocks and rant on my handheld phone, as you are currently reading. The "DJ" is clicking away on his laptop, hitting us with dope jams, which is fucking pathetic. Lame muzak versions of hip songs from 20 years ago blare from the speakers as strobe lights slide across the "dancefloor". The Yankees and Twins duel on the flatscreen at the end of the bar to keep the simple minded male occupied as his girlfriend scans the room for a hotter mate.

A sad, old, bald dude sits on my left, swishing his straw in his drink. I imagine he wonders where it all went wrong. At least I look 25 and still am rocking a full head of hair. I'm not him, yet. But I could be, spend a few years stagnant, still scouring MyOpenBar.com to make plans to get drunk for as cheap as possible. Still clinging to the remnants of a 'scene'.

But there is no scene. Not here. It's sad on an epic level. A hefty, sweatshirted heffer sits to my right talking way too loud to a tattooed dude who has his back to me. They have a cold plate of mostly devoured fries between them. I wonder if they are a couple, but I don't think they are, despite being unable to come up with another reason this guy could be sitting beside this beast on a Saturday Night.

Shit, I totally wrote Saturday Night on instinct, even though it's Thursday. Shows how fucked up my work schedule is. I have nothing else to even say about this place, that's how horribly boring it is. But they are providing me with free whiskey (one dollar tip) and I'll be damned if my broke ass will pass up that kind of deal.

Happy Hour Movie Review: Kick-Ass

Reporting live from the Loving Cup in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where the happy hour is all you can drink Miller High Life, well liquor, and wine from 6-9. There's also killer $2 sliders and tacos.

Beer #1.

I just got back from Union Square, where I watched Kick-Ass, the newest entry in the comicbook superhero action genre. Unlike most other superhero movies, this isn't a DC or Marvel creation (per se), it's the creation of the mad Scot, Mark Millar, who's been on a streak with controversial mainstream (Ultimates, Fantastic Four) and independent (Chosen, Wanted) comic book works, and the Marvel progeny John Romita Jr., who's made his name on Spider-Man & Daredevil, but has drawn it all.

Millar and Romita Jr. released the comic series through Marvel's creator owned imprint, Icon. I heard it was originally pitched as a movie, but when they couldn't get any bites, they went and did it as a comic, which of course got Hollywood interested (surprisingly seeing as Wanted, Millar's Top Cow series, was a bomb at the box office).

Matthew Vaughn (L4yer Cake) directed it, and it was a fairly independent production, all things considered. Which makes sense when you witness the carnage that they pull off in the movie, and the indie comic cred (non-partisan to DC or Marvel), with Dark Horse posters in the local diner/comic store (why don't these exist? Who wants to open one with me?)

I'll save the spoilers for later, but right now i'd just like to say how well crafted a film it is. It has moments where it "jumps the shark" or gets a bit heavy handed with the "comic book movie" tropes, like the narration text boxes that read MEANWHILE, or the motion comic origin of Nic Cage's 'Big Daddy' character. The former happens only once or twice, while the latter was just so cool I didn't mind it. Very awesome seeing a 3D rendering of JR Jr.'s artwork.

Beer #2

Big Lebowski starts up on the wall, projected while Motown and Soul pipes in from everywhere. I've ordered sliders, one chicken & one burger, just to start. I actually really love this place, nice dark atmosphere, great music, always a classic film playing (last week was The Graduate which was appropriate for my viewing on (500) Days of Summer the other day.

But back to Kick-Ass. I've never actually read the comic, and rather than read it before the movie to be that much cooler, if only in my own mind, I decided i'd go in blind & dumb, and judge it on its own merits as a film. It's so rare that I get to do that with mass media comicbook projects, so I cherish every opportunity.

I have it ready to read and will follow this up with a review of that in a few days. But for now, the movie was a lot to digest. It defied conventional formula, although it did have its standard action movie and superhero moments. But I found myself unsure of the direction and plot of the movie, which is also a rarity after seeing almost every worthy (and many unworthy) action movie, foreign or domestic.

Speaking of foreign movies, normally I am drawn to Asian cinema as they have this quality, this boldness and visceral feel to them that make me, force me really, to acknowledge the screen violence that most American movies have left me numb to. There's a rawness and imaginative aspect to their films that really sparks my creativity and inspires me.

Sliders. 2. Beef & Chicken.

I try a bite of the chicken one. So good. It's small but so tasty. A slice of avacado on top, with a piece of cheese. I'm not quite good enough to place what kind. And some sort of sauce that just adds that touch to it. Nom. And the size makes you really stop and enjoy each bite, rather than slave over massive mastication. I stretch that one into four bites and each one is equally satisfying.

A bite of the half a slice of pickle cleanses the palate, reading me for the burger. I save that one for second because it's just that kick-ass, for lack of a better term. A sip of beer and I'm ready to nom. A perfect piece of bacon juts out on either side, the meat just charred enough, a tad dry, and flavored with epic awesomeness.

A girl with awesome hair and glasses (prescription or not? I vote not, though she has a Alternative Nation Kennedy vibe as I wear my oversived ratty sweater I somehow picked up in my youth in the 90's) sits down at the bar a few stools away. I glance up at the dude, and somehow know everything will be okay. We all abide.

I finish the beer and hope that the swank bartender that thinks he's working at a hotel bar serving drinks up to a hipster Humphrey Bogart notices and gives me another. A nod, a point, a mumbled phrase, the transaction is complete. I have more beer.

Beer #3.

Two girls sit down on the other side of me, two stools over, and order their drinks. I polish off the slider, enjoying every moment as it passes over my teeth and brushes up against my tongue. Wait a second, John's texted me. Allow me to respond.

John: What are you doing?

Kurt: At Loving Cup in Bk. Drinking & eating in Wburg. Prob going to a beer garden on LES at 9.

I'll be meeting Lia & Mike who I work with at Lorilei's down on Staton? Or is it Rivington? I know the area, a German bar with massive beers that list percentages next to the absurd names. There's an awkward exchange with Retro Bartender and 90's MTV Kennedy; she ordered sliders and tacos came instead. I almost take the tacos. Instead I make a lowkey gesture and wait til later to order them.

Back to Kick-Ass, part two. It was violent. People got cut. Lots of knife action, a ton of blatant headshots, and brutal beatings. Every action scene drew you in and satified you, whether you were watching Kick-Ass take a hit, and another, and another, and get back up to crack someone else with one of his batons, or you were watching Hit Girl flip through the air, gunning down thugs.

I forgot what beer I'm on, not that it matters. Did I get a new one? Ahh, whatevs. Did I mention that I love that Kick-Ass costume? I totally do. It's ugly and awesome all at the same time. Part Olympic event apparel and part retro Kirby-esque design. Green with track suit lined yellow.

John: I'm at a bar in soho drinking frustrations away. I can always meet up with you-let me know.

Kurt: Dude, totally. Best drink I've had in over a year right now. If you want to meet me in the LES, I'm just meeting two co-workers for some beers.

That's a lot of backstory into my life right there, but suffice to say it involves my horrific living situation and Lady Gaga's DJ. At least James Brown's 'Make it Funky' has come on. James Brown has always made me feel better ever since I saw the Blues Brothers as a child.

Maude Lebowski is lowered from her harness where she flies through the apartment throwing paint at a canvass. Fucking Julianne Moore rules. Go through her IMDB and watch it all. It's all quality. The fact that she's chill and cool, so I hear, and can play a total goofball with a Boston accent as on 30 Rock, well, that's the icing.

But I digress. Nicolas Cage. He ruins everything you like about him with a certain role (Ghost Rider) and then can just kill it with another that makes you love him (Adaptation, Raising Arizona). His turn as Big Daddy makes you kind of love him again. Bad moustached daddy to young Hit Girl, he puts on a Ward Cleaver "aww shucks" sensibility when acting with his daughter, channels Adam West when in costume, and then delivers in dramatic turn in the inbetween spots.

Beer #4?

I ordered tacos. One chicken, one beef. John texted back. Gotta look up the address before I send it to him, so let's finish up this review shall we?

McLovin nails the rich kid, stuffed up nose, wannabe whiny boy without every becoming a caricature. In fact, none of these characters (except the love interest who thinks Kick-Ass' secret identity is gay), ever fall into over-the-top, cartoonish misrepresentations of actual people, but you're still aware this is a world seperate from our own.

Real world violence rules apply, but it also slips into stylized killing strokes without missing a beat. And it all satisfies. A good action scene should snag your attention, give you chills, and the make you go 'Oooooh' or 'Ackk!"

Tacos.

They appear small but that is so utterly deceptive. They are damn filling. One bite of the chicken taco, some sort of sauce drizzled over it, and I remember why I enjoy eating sometimes. Every bite is damn good. A tad spicy, a little bland, the soft taco shells are perfect. A bit of fresh salsa on top, all green and chopped up.

All the performances in Kick-Ass were great, but whatever his name is who plays the lead was outstanding. His voice cracks in just the right way, he can shift from total dork (convincingly, and I'm a harsh judge as I grew up with true dorks, dweebs & weirdos) to heroic with just a costume change. The real world, pop culture mentions are great. A Myspace page to advertise his heroic services? Of course.

Beef taco time. It's gotten a tad cold as I typed away, front windows still open as the sun goes down. I hope you appreciate this, damn you. I definitely need to finish this taco and then break the seal. If this is beer four then my $12 has already paid for my buzz. Next up is whiskey.

The girls have cleared the bar, everyone's met friends her and engage in conversation where I hear "Do you like Animal Collective?" Yeah, about three years ago, which was still way too late. Missed em when they palyed South Street Seaport for free too dammit. But yeah, they're alright considering no one asked me.

Shit, bathroom break.

Whiskey #1 when I get back. Now the drunks gets going. But yeah, Kick-Ass was pretty...kick ass? It had violence, drama, wish fulfillment, was really well directed, never got too gimmicky. It had its own universe which begs to be explored further. Red Mist was originally set up as the villain of the sequel so I recently read. Could be good.

Watching McLovin and the other dude battle it out like two comic geeks would actually fight (I should know, I did it with Tim often when we were teenagers) as the young girl from (500) Days of Summer did some of the most impressive fighting moves I've seen in an American film ever.

And that's the controversy right? Extreme violence committed by an 11 year old. Is it right? Should Nic Cage be okay with shooting a child? Is it okay that the final battle is a brutal bruhaha between a badass Mark Strong bald mafioso and the "cute-as-a-button" girl that I don't know her name? It did feel a little odd, but it played into that wish fulfillment badass killer instinct. Girls are always going to be portrayed as more Kick Ass. (See Mr. & Mrs. Smith)

I prob need a smoke, as I have 25 mins left of this happy hour. I guess I can hold out long enough to finish this review. It was fucking awesome. It was a pretty decent movie, it had satisfyingly violent scenes, played up the comicbook vibe and never got too predictable.

It was a good movie, a badass violent action movie, and oh yeah, it was a pretty honest superhero movie. It really makes me curious what the comic is like. I read a Body Bags One-Shot by Jason Pearson today and it totally prepared me for what I was going to see tonight.

Cartoonish violence that still held an impact as shit hit the fan and got ridiculous, it still held a human aspect to it that never let it get to the realm of unreasonable, even as Kick-Ass flies in with a gatling gun jetpack (I told you there'd be spoilers...)

Whiskey #2.

I'm just about done here. I ate my food. I killed time/my bitter loneliness, by writing this review. The movie was good. The fact that it wasn't a mainstream superhero book is impressive. Millar's second Hollywood movie with a director that is pretty rad (see Nightwatch & Daywatch for the director of Millar's other concept WANTED) is significantly better than his first, even though it explores the same themes (totaly loser becomes badass).

What other comic book writer can say that he's got two of the most inventive action movies put out by Hollywood in the past decade, aka ever, to his credit? He sat down and wrote those scenes, that an artist drew, then they sold it to a producer, who hired a director, then casted it and shot the damn thing, and both are (fairly) close to the originals.

At least I assume so as I prepare to read Kick-Ass: the comic. Well, that's enough from me. 13 mins left to happy hour, go see Kick-Ass if you even remotely like superheroes or action movies, as it's one of the best that have ever been put out.

Thank that insane Scotsman and the NY ginzo creative team.

K

Mercury University

So I want to try and pitch this to DC as a back-up or as a pretige edition maxi-series, something like 12 issues.

Where do superspeedsters go to learn the ropes? At Mercury University, a school at the end of time, DC 1,000,000's universe.

It'll follow the adventures of Max Allen, the son of the great Bart Allen, the Flash of the 21st Century, an era that is revered in Flash history. If Jay Garrick is Greek Myth, Barry Allen is Classic Literature, and Wally West the Pulp Paperback, the Bart Allen's life as the Flash is the thing of Classic Rock Pop History.

Max has lived as Kid Flash, sidekicking to his dad for awhile, and is now of an age to attend the superspeed school on Mercury in the distant future. Young, and still somewhat new, we get to learn who Max is outside the costume in an environment where everyone is the Flash, living between seconds.

Max makes friends with Turtle Boy (slow kid, son of 25th Century Flash, who's influencial and rich), who has no powers without the technology from his dad and a girl from the Legionnaires 30th Century, descendent of the Quick Family, and fan of all things Flash.

The faculty is plucked from all across time as well. John Fox is the Coach, wounded vet and all around nice guy and great teacher, who is mostly ignored because of his injury.

Jesse Quick from our near future, grown into the role of teacher, she emits calm and experience.

A younger Jay Garrick teaches basic maneuvers, Max Mercury teaches the fundamentals of superspeed science, a young Savitar is a new teacher, eager and optomistic, but darkness dwells in him.

The Rogues also plague the fastforward community that lives at mach 10 on Mercury. Pop culture becomes instant culture, iC, and is immediately processed, the entire planet hooked into a wireless hive mind. This leaves certain individuals living on the outside that move too slow to even notice.

Cold. Heat. Mirror. Tricks. TopSpin. Magic.
The outlaw rebels of Mercury, they loot and plunder, left in the dust of society. The Flash has to slow down to even percieve them.

The Flash of the era, that has replaced John Fox after Despero shattered his leg, is a living energy field, barely human and nearly unable to stop moving long enough to speak. He has given up his consciousness to a greater good.

A plan has been set into motion, and like the falling of dominoes, every moment moves all of Mercury into the descent of the consuming Sun, the Speedforce folded in on itself causing a massive black hole supernova mutant Sun Eater. Sentient, yet unable to see the devouring of all reality as a bad thing.

Max & friends must learn the lesson of moving slow, to stop and look, to process information and see the patterns, identifying the trouble that speeding your way through life makes sure you miss. All of Infinity & Eternity rest on their shoulders.

We watch as Max goes through year after year at the school, learning and growing, from emo-ish, long haired, shy and sensitive, hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. He's tall and thin, dark brown hair hanging in his face.

Turtle is the baseball cap wearing nerd, interested more in tinkering in his lab with experimental futuristic technology, than being cool. He doesn't have time to run with the popular crowd. He thinks slow and is picked on for it, but it's his greatest strength.

Jane Quicke. Tomboy, old school Legion fan, historical geek, spends hours at the Flash Museum sketching. She's often too in her own head to pay attention, so is always dodging at the last minute, surviving by her instincts, whether she knows it or not.

John Fox always wears his jacket. His clothes are more loose, dressed down and casual. He was the Flash through some insane days, a founding member of JLA 1,000,000, although always looked down upon, discriminated by his un-evolved TwenCen biology.

Jay Garrick is oblivious, all young and full of spitfire, nothing gets him down. He's a throwback to the dawn of superheroics. An ancient relic who usually gets made fun of by cynical students, only he's so slow, comparitively, that he doesn't get it, but he's no dummy. Sharper than he lets on. 40's style, organic material, no sheen, just cloth.

Jesse Quick is no-nonsense, business skirt, the ultimate female role-model, very passionate with a dose of feminism. She commands respect by her walk and stature. She dresses modestly, but her presence makes it sexy.

Savitar is the detached, aloof, teacher. Only there to access the mysteries of speed, spending all his waking moments consumed by formulas and theories. He's dishevelled, but seemingly harmless. A true academic, and yet, something seems off. Too in his own head.

Max Mercury, who Max Allen was named after, is a legend, a master, a whisper that kids share exaggerrated tales about. No one knows what he's doing, or where he's gone, but he's waiting & watching. This is Max Mercury before he retires to his first appearance in Flash vol. 2 as a subway vendor. He's middle aged and handsome. A George Clooney in spandex, completely in control of his surroundings, calm and at peace, co-existing in a flow with all things.

Think Harry Potter for the Flash family. The unfortunate reality of being born before 30th Cen (at least) is the prejudice of the times. All of Mercury pride themselves on beinging faster, smarter, more connected. Our main cast is part of the "slower school" of pre 30c people.

However some people remember that millenia as the last true ago of heroes, so they are included in, but most Mercurians don't have the patience to learn anything from them at such slow speeds.

Max Allen will learn that stopping and observing, the critical mind, is the strength of being a Flash. He uncovers a plot, with hired merc Rogues doing the dirty work in plain sight, everyone too busy to care.

When the speedforce finally consumes itself, will it destroy all of DC 1million's reality? Or can Max and his slow friends save the day?

Sometimes being the Fastest Man Alive doesn't save the day.