The Many Stages of Building LEGO as a Grown-up
By Dan Brown Last weekend I put together a LEGO set. It was a time. Here, for the benefit of readers, are the 12 steps one goes through as an adult while making a LEGO Mars Rover. Just in case you’re thinking of doing the same thing. For the record, I built the smallest, cheapest Rover that goes for less than $20, not the other massive Mars vehicles the Danish toy company sells for hundreds of dollars. I thought the small one would be easy. STEP ONE: Carried along by memories of boyhood fun with friends and your brother, you eagerly rip open the plastic package, being careful not to lose any of the pieces that spill onto the coffee table in your living room. “Really?” you think, “That dinky little toy has so many components? There’s gotta be a thousand of them.” Regardless, you still look forward to what you anticipate will be, at most, 20 minutes of mindless fun. STEP TWO: With your spirit bolstered by pure enthusiasm, you pull out the construction instructions to unfold them. It dimly registers that there are 18 stages, printed on both sides of a wide glossy sheet, plus a large number of those stages have sub-stages. That’s a lot of work for a vehicle that’s not much bigger than a baseball! But you are not daunted. STEP THREE: Mashing a few small pieces together, you begin to suspect LEGO instructions are kind of like IKEA furniture-building directions. Since LEGO is a global brand, despite its origins in Denmark, the instructions are necessarily vague pictograms you are finding less and less helpful as the afternoon stretches on. In particular, you curse the colouring as you try to make the small pieces fit together, noting you can’t tell the difference between black and grey components on the instruction sheet. There are a lot of each colour. STEP FOUR: You stare at the instructions, your eyes growing blurry. Damn, this is more difficult than you thought it would be! STEP FIVE: You feel your thumbs growing raw from handling the tiny, unforgiving, sharp-at-the-corners plastic pieces. Your mind wanders. You find yourself pondering the length of time it takes for calluses to form on your fingers. STEP SIX: You run your rough hands over the pieces on the coffee table, once more trying to sort them by shape and colour. Not for the first time, you swear the makers of this particular package of LEGO must have left out that one crucial component you’re searching for. Desperate, you ask your wife, seated beside you on the couch reading a paperback romantasy, if she can see it anywhere on the table. STEP SEVEN: Just as you run out of hope, your feeble eyes spot it. Like every other time you swore a piece was missing, it was not. You decide it’s time to take a break. Your shoulders have begun to ache and you feel as though you’ve been hunched over for a couple hours – because you have been. You know you will benefit from getting some mental space. You go into the bedroom to play with your two cats, dozing without a care on the bed. STEP EIGHT: Back from the bedroom, you lock a few more pieces into place. You fear making this tiny toy is slowly, inevitably becoming a career for you. STEP NINE: Time for a booze break! You ask your wife if she will join you for a shot of something strong. She chooses a whiskey from the nearby liquor cabinet that is infused with the essence of black walnuts. You scarf the shot down, hoping it will fortify you with courage until the LEGO building is done for the day. Back at it. STEP TEN: You’ve pretty much given up consulting the instructions. Instead, you rely on the photo plastered on the ripped-open package for guidance. Your wife notes one of the key pieces you added 20 minutes ago is in the wrong place. You take this in stride, knowing your marriage is built on a solid foundation of love, respect, trust, and walnut whiskey. STEP ELEVEN: You throw in the towel for good, letting your wife know she is welcome to complete the final stages of this particular LEGO build. Sweetheart that she is, she seems to have little trouble doing so, finishing up in short order STEP TWELVE: Staring at the six-wheeled model in your hand, you realize you also bought two other LEGO sets, which are waiting patiently in their packages to be assembled. Does it ever end? Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Pop Culture: Will 2026 Be the Year It All Happens?
By Dan Brown Like a cornered she-wolf protecting her pups, the New Year is upon us. This week, I’m in the mood to look ahead and ask – what’s going to be the biggest thing in pop culture in 2026? What event, person, or product will define the next 12 months? Will movie theatres sell even fewer tickets? Will Taylor and Travis tie the knot? Will people continue to exit social media? What will the song of the summer be? What will the most-popular film, meme, TV series, book, and podcast be? Only someone who is deluded or dangerous would give answers to those questions with 100 per cent certainty. So while I don’t have an all-powerful crystal ball, I do have some thoughts. For starters, AI. If last year is any indication, the advocates who are pushing artificial intelligence on the rest of us will crack on. Their goal: Making the general public think AI is inevitable. But from what I’ve seen so far, I’m not impressed by tools like ChatGPT and Gemini. I’m a skeptic on this one, so the question for me is: What are the odds the AI bubble will burst before 2027 a la the dotcom downturn of the 1990s? Merriam-Webster Dictionary got it right when their editors chose “slop” as the one word that defines 2025. If present trends continue, perhaps the word of 2026 will be “crap” or “crud.” At the movie theatres, people are buying fewer tickets. The entertainment data firm EntTelligence, quoted in the Los Angeles Times this week, says there were 800 million theatre tickets sold in 2024, but 760 million sold in 2025. (Those figures are for the U.S., I’m assuming.) Even the higher figure doesn’t match pre-pandemic levels. There may be more people watching movies this year, they just aren’t watching them at the multiplex. One motion picture that I am looking forward to seeing on the big screen is Christopher Nolan’s adaptation of The Odyssey, which is not a prequel to 2001. It arrives July 17. It could be interesting. As for the much-memed Avengers: Doomsday, I’m still on the fence. Other questions on my mind: Which entertainment figure will the Trump administration go after, as the U.S. President did with Jimmy Kimmel last year? What effect will Trump have on the proposed sale of the venerable Warner Bros. studio to Netflix? (He’s already said he will be involved in the federal government’s approval process.) You also can’t discount the stuff that happens in any given year that nobody saw coming. The obvious example from last year would be the December slaying of director Rob Reiner, whose filmography included one of the best motion-picture comedies of all time, This is Spinal Tap, as well as The Princess Bride, When Harry Met Sally, Stand By Me, and Misery. What will the big concert tour be? Which comedian will survive being cancelled? Will a seeming generation of stars – last year it was Robert Redford, Diane Keaton, Brigitte Bardot, and Ozzy Osbourne – pass into history before our eyes? Will something as simple as an album cover provoke controversy, as Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend did last August? Whatever happens, I will be here to document it all. And here’s hoping 2026 brings us more happy surprises than tragic ones! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
The Year in Comics, 2025 Edition
By Dan Brown Another year gone! That means it’s time again to pick out the highlights from the last 12 months in the comics and graphic-novel world. As I always say when introducing the annual list, the categories are entirely my own invention, the choices reflect my tastes and no else’s, and I would love to see you chime in with your own picks! Best graphic novel of the year: Contenders include Jeff Lemire’s 10,000 Ink Stains (more of a memoir than a graphic novel, I know), Guy Delisle’s Muybridge and David Petersen’s Mouse Guard: Dawn of the Black Axe (yes, I know it will be several weeks before it appears in collected form), but I am going with D. Boyd’s Denniveniquity, which recounts the creator’s misadventures growing up in 1970s New Brunswick. I was transported back in time to a different Canada, and the book’s central character made me laugh! Best comic of the year: I’m going to say the J.Michael Straczynski-written Doctor Doom & Rocket Raccoon No. 1, in which the Latverian ruler drafts the genetically engineered rodent to help him travel back to a time before the Big Bang to understand the purpose of the universe. It includes a Jack Kirby-inspired collage, which got me excited. Local comics coming on strong: With offerings like Scott Wojcik and Jeff McClinchey’s Probed and Loaded, as well as Jeff McClinchey and Scott Brian Woods’ Black Helm Saga, it was a strong year for local creators. Speaking of which, Byron comic creator Jeff Lemire took over art duties on Skottie Young’s I Hate Fairyland this year! Best graphic novel I read this year not from this year: The second volume of Chip Zdarsky’s Public Domain came out in February, collecting previously published issues. As I wrote, “it’s a sophomore collection that enriches the storyline of an ongoing comic series, putting the characters in new and surprising situations.” Best comic adaptation of the year: The Sook-Yin Lee version of Chester Brown’s Paying For It came to London in 2025, and it stayed with me long after I saw it last winter. Brown himself sat a couple rows over. Most underwhelming comic adaptation: This is a tie between this summer’s Superman and Fantastic Four: First Steps. There, I said it. These movies were popular for about one second, and consider this: The best character in Superman is Krypto, the superdog. The most intriguing character in Fantastic Four is Doctor Doom, who is in the thing for like half a second. Blerg. Comic adaptations still hanging in: Despite all the talk of superhero fatigue, there were four such motion pictures in the domestic box office’s Top 12 for 2025: Superman (No. 3), Fantastic Four (No. 7), Captain America; Brave New World (No. 10), and Thunderbolts (No. 12). What was cool for comic fans is that for Superman and the FF movie, magazine-sized digests were published showing the stories that inspired each movie. Most confusing comic marketing: As part of the industry crossover involving the two biggest comic companies, DC released the one-shot Batman Deadpool and Marvel released Deadpool Batman. Got it? These were two different things. Creators involved with the making of these titles had to take to social media to combat the resulting confusion. Best local comics-marketing move: Joe Ollmann helped put together Bonk’d Volume 1, which collects work from Hamilton-based and -connected comic creators (Ollmann also has The Woodchipper coming out next year, his latest collection of short stories, which I am eagerly anticipating). Comic villain of the year: Alberta Premier Danielle Smith took aim at graphic novels in school libraries, particularly the ones depicting LGBTQ relationships. I thought we were done with comic witch hunts in the 1950s, but apparently not. Biggest comics-adjacent development of the year: Netflix’s animated movie K-Pop Demon Hunters has caused quite a stir, although I have yet to see it. Now, it’s over to you! Tell me in the comments about your picks for this year! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
A Small Thing but an Important Thing
By Dan Brown I miss “the wave.” What I’m talking about has nothing to do with standing up at the right time at a sporting event, I don’t mean that wave. What I’m referring to is a tiny gesture that has everything to do with courtesy on the road and making our divided world just a little more humane. If you’re a veteran driver like I am, who has had a license for 40 years, you likely have seen “the wave.” It goes like this. Let’s say you’re stuck in busy traffic and some car from a side street is trying to ease into your lane. Good Samaritan that you are, you stop going forward to let them in. As they pull into the path ahead of you, they stick a hand out the driver’s side window and motion in your direction. That’s “the wave.” And it’s disappearing. Which is a sad comment on where we’re at as a society. The wave, as I call it, is more than just a gesture. Sometimes it’s accompanied by a smile from the other driver, who is acknowledging that by letting them in you have done them a solid. It’s a way, from one stranger to another, of wordlessly saying, “I appreciate you, man, thanks!” After all, you don’t know that other driver. Allowing them some space ahead of your vehicle is not something you’re required to do by law – I do it because I recognize they may be having a tough day, and it costs me almost nothing, maybe a few seconds, to be courteous. And some day, I’ll be in the same position. I’ll be the one having a rough time who needs a small break from the universe in the form of a kindly fellow commuter. Many people have said chivalry is dead, and the wave is one way of acknowledging the chivalrous spirit. It’s the opposite of road rage – it’s road gratitude. (It reminds me of another driving habit, flashing your high beams to oncoming cars when you pass a police speed trap, but that might be a country thing.) There’s even song about small driving kindnesses by the group Geggy Tah, who sing: All I want to do is to thank you/ Even though I don't know who you are/ You let me change lanes/ While I was driving in my car. The wave is like saying, “Thank you” when the person ahead of you holds a door open for you when you’re entering a building. They weren’t mandated by law to do that. I hope I don’t overstate the case, but it’s one of those tiny things that makes life in a city such as London tolerable, enjoyable even. And I’m worried, since I haven’t seen it for some time. I haven’t been keeping detailed notes, but I would say in the last year or two I’ve let a fair number of people in ahead of me in traffic on my daily drive to and from work. But something’s missing. No wave. That’s why I’m troubled. Those other drivers don’t appear to feel any impetus to wave anymore. I think I’m being just as gracious a driver as I’ve always been. And I’m driving as much as I always did. But I suppose it could be my fault. Perhaps people fell out of the habit during the pandemic. If so, screw you COVID-19. Or maybe distracted driving is such a problem that people aren’t paying enough attention to lift their hand for just a second or two. Maybe tinted windows play a part. Or perhaps those drivers feel entitled to butt in ahead of me in traffic. All are possible. In fairness, I will say there is one group of drivers who can still be counted on to give the wave: School-bus operators. If you want to see another human being light up on your morning commute, obey the law and stop when a school bus in the other lane has its lights flashing. And those bus drivers certainly don’t have to wave to you! Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Merc With A Mouth Crashes Into Dark Knight’s World
By Dan Brown There’s nothing unusual about someone hiring Deadpool to carry out a contract killing. But when his latest job takes him to Gotham City, that’s when comic fans know this is no ordinary assignment. Deadpool/Batman is the latest comic-industry crossover. It shows what happens when the Merc With a Mouth (a Marvel character) crashes into the world of Batman (a DC creation). Both companies are probably hoping that by joining forces they can introduce a new generation of comic readers to the concept of industry crossovers, thus cross-pollinating different fandoms. There’s a long tradition of superhero crossovers going back to at least 1976, when Superman fought Spider-Man for the first time. Since then, they’ve become a comic fixture. (And a cultural fixture – just check out the movies like Alien vs. Predator or Freddie vs. Jason.) The story, illustrated by Greg Capullo and written by Zeb Wells, begins when Deadpool leaps through the very manor window where a bat once appeared, inspiring a young Bruce Wayne to avenge his parents by donning a batsuit. Unaware of Wayne’s secret identity, the fast-talking Deadpool explains to Wayne he has been hired to off the Dark Knight: “Some guy who dresses like a bat? Which I’m assured is grim and creepy even though that’s clearly hilarious?” (When the mutant assassin eventually comes face-to-face with the Caped Crusader, he admits he was mistaken. “Batman! You’re . .. terrifying. I hate myself for saying this, but the bat thing? It works.”) Fans of Deadpool will be happy seeing him wield a katana in each hand, and Batman devotees will be satisfied to see him brooding. It’s quite a clash of tones. In fact, those fans might find themselves questioning the book’s premise: These two don’t seem to have a lot in common, at least on the surface. Why have them become partners? Doesn’t the crazed Deadpool have more in common with someone else in the Batman pantheon . . . his nemesis, the insane Joker? Yup. Without giving too much away, the Clown Prince of Crime does make an appearance, with Deadpool labeling him a villain whose “brain is a neurospicy dopamine goblin with task paralysis and a lack of object permanence.” In other words, Deadpool and the Joker are perfect for each other. There are also backup features in this book that pair more DC heroes with Marvel protagonists. Wonder Woman teams up with Captain America, Green Arrow with Daredevil, Frank Miller’s Batman with Old Man Logan, and so on. The funniest moment among these pairings comes when Rocket Raccoon tries on Green Lantern’s ring: “Brightest day, blackest night, yada yada. Green flame on!” the genetically engineered woodland mammal cries. Considering the main story is only 25 pages long, what I would have liked to have seen is for the publishers to devote those extra 16 pages to fully fleshing out the title team-up. (There is also another crossover published at the same time as Deadpool/Batman called Batman/Deadpool, which I haven’t read yet.) With more pages, they could have expanded what is essentially an appetizer into a full-fledged meal. Also, unlike the crossovers of my childhood, the current ones are published in a regular-size comic format, so they don’t feel as special as the jumbo ones of old. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
Slow is the New Fast
By Dan Brown In our fast-paced world, doing things slowly is not just a luxury, it’s also the ultimate power move. You’ve probably noticed we live at a moment in human history when it feels as though everyone on the planet is rushing around with their hair on fire. Just look at online retailers (think Amazon) or delivery services (like Skip the Dishes), that promise faster and faster service. Then there’s the employers who don’t want slowpokes. Bosses prize workers who can move like lighting. They hire employees who can keep to a schedule by meeting tight deadlines. In 2025, no one wants a slow hand, as the Pointer Sisters once did. “I wanna go fast,” singer Demi Lovato pleads on her comeback single, out now. Everyone everywhere wants to move quickly, to get to the next thing before too much time has elapsed. Making the most of your day no longer means savouring each moment, but packing as many moments as you can into each hour, minute, second. No one has time to waste. So is it any surprise those who move at a slower pace stand out? The first place I noticed it was on the road. Driving around London, I would get stuck behind cars that were going painfully slowly. Usually, these vehicles travelling slower than the minimum speed limit were pimped-out machines. It didn’t take long for it to hit me: Clearly, going slow is the cool thing to do. Cool people don’t rush. (Another place you’ll see this principle at work is in Grand Bend with the cars that cruise the Strip at a snail’s pace.) If you want another illustration of this truth, check out any speech on YouTube by former U.S. president Barack Obama. His trademark style was to speak deliberately, with lots of pauses. What he was saying without saying it out loud was: “I’m no fast-talker like other politicians. I choose every word carefully. I’m no fool.” He was trying to make people hang on his every syllable. Understanding Obama’s message required an attention span. He was no influencer on Tik Tok. Going slowly in today’s fast-food, fast-everything world is a power move because being slow on purpose projects a message. It says, “I’m not in a hurry, like all the normies. I’m not a slave to the clock. I’m too important to rush around. I’m not shackled to a schedule, I’ll arrive when I arrive.” People who have the superpower of being slow are above common concerns the rest of us share. They don’t have to be at the party on time, or – heaven forfend — early. Is there a bigger faux pas than arriving before all the other guests? The slow among us are our modern-day Ferris Buellers. If you recall, Bueller struck a blow against the tyranny of the clock in 1986 by goofing off for an entire school day. "Life moves pretty fast,” he said. “If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." I don’t know about you, but I would love just one extra day to do nothing in particular, not having to worry about using my time efficiently. If it’s true life is a race to the grave, then not hurrying is also a way of resisting mortality itself. The heavy-metal group Blue Oyster Cult tapped into that idea in their 1981 song Burnin’ For You, which is partly a meditation on time: Time is the essenceTime is the seasonTime ain't no reasonGot no time to slowTime everlastingTime to play B-sidesTime ain't on my sideTime I'll never knowHaving time to burn to indulge such silly impulses as actually listening to B-sides is the ultimate luxury today. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I really should get going. I’m on a tight deadline. Dan Brown has covered pop culture for more than 33 years as a journalist and also moderates L.A. Mood’s monthly graphic-novel group.
