Bluntman and Chronic,’ Dini creator-owned project debut May’s Oni Double Feature #12 promises to bring big-name talent. Do Kevin Smith and Paul Dini ring any bells?

“Chasing Amy” filmmaker Smith’s “Bluntman and Chronic” make their comic debut while Dini, co-producer of “The Batman Adventures,” rolls out a new creator-owned project in the issue.

“People have wanted Kevin’s ‘Bluntman and Chronic’ from the beginning,” Joe Nozemack, Oni co-publisher said. “We’ve eased readers into Kevin’s work over the last year, and thought now would be a perfect time to give them what they’ve been asking for.”

So Smith and artist Mike Allred (Madman) have produced a 15-page story. The plot? When a punk decides to rob a jewelry store in Smith’s hometown of Red Bank, N.J., “the town gets turned into a war zone,” Nozemack said.

Jay and Silent Bob must become the heroic (but bungling) Bluntman and Chronic to save the day.

“And,” Nozemack added, “you’ll get to see the Bluntcave.”

Also in the issue, Dini will debut the first chapter in his two-part story “Honor Rollers.” Newcomer Tom Fowler will be drawing a story where three loser, party-hearty kids in a prep school plot revenge against a teacher who’s thrown out one of their buddies.

“They come up with a great plan to get the teacher fired, they iron out all the details…and they blow it,” Dini said. “They screw up beyond their wildest dreams. These guys—regardless of all their plans and dreams—are screw-ups.”

Dini says he has more stories with Oni Press lined up, including a Christmas-themed character, Jingle Belle. And Bluntman and Chronic? “We’ll see more of them somewhere, sometime in the future,” Nozemack said.

—Chris Hutchins

Spent the first week in LA, working on ‘Coyote Ugly’, which was offered to me as a directorial assignment as well. I passed, of course, sighting the usual ‘I didn’t originate it’ code-of-conduct. It was tempting, but a man sets up a few guidelines for himself early on, he oughta adhere to at least a few of them (to wit, other guidelines I’ve NOT followed were ‘I’ll only cut on film’ and ‘Video tap? That’s for sissies who don’t trust their d.p.!’). All in all, I think it’ll be a good flick. I’ll let you know who signs on to direct when I hear about it.

Went to Malcolm’s AFM premiere as well. I’d say it was a success. The entire cast showed up (Jake Busey, Breckin Meyer, Denise Richards, Tanya Allen, Elizabeth Berkley, and Lisa Marie, paramour of Tim ‘Kryptonite’ Burton). It went over well, I believe they just closed a deal with an American distributor (which I’ll let Malcolm fill you in on later). The weirdest moment had to be Berkley coming up to me and doing that ‘Showgirls’ dance move I ripped off for ‘Amy’. Strange. Anyhoo, congrats to all involved.

The second week, I was secluded up at the ranch where our awesome mix team of Gary, Tom, and Ethan designed some killer sound for the flick. We’re under the aegis of Richard Hymns (the two-time Oscar winner who’s up for another this year for ‘Saving Private Ryan’), who’s now started working on ‘Fight Club’ – the new Fincher flick. These guys have lifted the movie to a new audio level for Askew flicks (though in deference to all those mixers on our previous flicks, we never had a film that warranted this much wall-to-wall sound). I think you’ll all be impressed.

And while we’re on the subject, ‘impressed’ describes me as I watched – open-mouthed – the new ‘Episode One’ trailer (which our boy Gary mixed).The producer, Rick McCallum, invited me over to check it out, and shit, is it great. Makes you want to see the movie the instant it ends. After the trailer, I shot fanboy question after fanboy question at Rick, who answered them all gracefully and candidly, spilling dirt and spoilers galore (the only one of which I’ll hint at – and has been hinted at on other sites – is that a certain armor-clad wookie-scalp collector will be featured prominently in ‘Episode 2’).

The next day at lunch, I said hello to Rick and his friend – some guy in a beard who owned the joint. I think his name was George or something…

I’m sure most of you have seen the animated series news. ABC, hunh? Go figure. Let’s see if it takes (I’m optimistic, but I have my doubts too; lots of them). Mid-March, Dave Mandel (exec-producer, along with me and Mosier) comes down, and we’re going to churn out the first six scripts. Dave’s a great guy who did time at ‘SNL’ and ‘Seinfeld’ (he did the ‘Bizarro Jerry’ episode), and ‘gets’ the flicks and the comics. The only downside to this whole development is that Mosier and I kicked and screamed four years ago to do this show, back when it was just ‘The Simpsons’ out there, and we were told animation wasn’t viable. But I guess ‘To everything there is a season…’ and all that.

From the moment I got back, we’ve been working on the Stash-Bash – getting everything in place and ready. Sadly, Affleck won’t be attending, as he’s starting rehearsals on ‘Reindeer Games’ (but you can catch him tonight on ‘Dennis Miller Live’, I think). The guest list is comprised of the usual gang of idiots (myself included), and a few new ones (Jimmy and Joe, if their schedules permit). However, there may yet be an ace up my sleeve.

Unfortunately, that ace is going to reserved for the later groups (we have to make up for the last two tours being at night, with low visibility on some of the outside stuff). Not counting any chickens here, but there may be somewhat of a surprise in store (no pun intended).

I hope you’re all going to enjoy the modest outing we’ve put together. It’s no ‘Vulgarthon’, but I think it’ll be something to remember and talk about. Besides – I’m saving my call-in chips for the next big event: the free ‘Dogma’ screening, sometime in the fall, which we’ll open to a lot more than just three hundred or so, but still reserve for board-posters only (so post, people; POST!… but make it relevant, or Smalls will beat you to death with your mouses… or mice… or meeses… you get the idea).

See you ticket-folks on Saturday.

Andrew Jackson won the greatest naval battle of the War of 1812 two weeks after the peace treaty had been signed but before the armies could be informed. We’ve certainly come a long way since Old Hickory whacked all those Limeys at the Battle of New Orleans — and not such a great way, if you ask me.

Don’t be alarmed, you haven’t picked up a copy of “George” with the wrong cover on it. The editors of “Flaunt” have asked me to offer my thoughts on the nature and essence of celebrity, and I think this historical metaphor bears some significance on the topic. You see, it’s all about “Springer” these days. We live in “Montel”‘s world, where a whip-quick media-Internet conglomerate runs the Weather Channel 24 hours a day. We have a national daily paper, and a celebrity gossip program runs several different shows a day on a dedicated entertainment-gossip station. What’s about to happen is already old news. And if the news is your trade, you better stay six steps ahead of what’s happening tomorrow if you want to feed your kids. With all these heads talking and not all that much that truly warrants talking about, even Warhol would be amazed. Almost everybody is famous. A tone-deaf, cross-dressing, Satan-worshipping, modern-day minstrel (who couldn’t turn out a buck-twenty on a subway platform) names himself after a model and a serial killer and becomes an international star and a multi-millionaire overnight. Forget being the next Sojourner Truth, Thomas Paine, or even Horace Mann. All you have to do is get stuck in a hole in the ground and you’re a lock in the morning paper. Do a Diet Coke commercial and you can end up in “People” where 30 million loyal weekly readers can hear all about the lean years and your dog named “Ralph.” Sleep with your teacher, write a jingle, get a movie made with your buddy from back home — it doesn’t take much. Rikki Lake owns the world and most of us are lucky if we can make the rent.

The line between celebrity and actual achievement got deeply blurred –and somewhere along the line Oprah rubbed it out. There’s a whole truckload of tabloids and local WB affiliates bickering and hardscrabbling over a smaller and smaller piece of the bored-housewife-who-can’t-have-an-orgasm pie. The size, smell, and shape of the presidential semen stain can only get you so far. Unless it vaguely resembles Jesus in the Shroud of Turin in a 3-D poster kind of way, there really isn’t too much more to say. This may help explain the modern form of yellow journalism. Our freedom-of-the-press advocates wave copies of Voltaire and declare the public has a terribly important right to know about what’s really going on with Frank and Kathy Lee, Rosie’s kid’s discipline problems, and who slept over at Clooney’s last night. Remember the Maine, indeed.

The problem is, once we’ve hastily ushered all these folks up onto public stage, they have to merit the attention. So what do we do with ’em? That’s what Jerry figured out. Keep a few spare lesbian pygmy brawlers at the ready and get ’em out there before the last cuckolded Floridians have stopped bawling — or brawling. Because after conferring deity-dom on these folks (who, after all, are just the same hapless chumps we all are — or went to high school with) all there is to do is find old pictures of them and marvel at how they’ve “had some work done.” That’s why everyone listens to Howard Stern. He’s the kid in HeadStart who, after the other kids spend all that time building the Lego house, comes careening madly in and gleefully brings the whole thing crashing down. And isn’t that really the fun part?

So what if famous people aren’t really special after all, but just the same goofy kids with snot in their noses we knew in sixth grade? (For further evidence, see the photo of Julia Roberts in the first issue of thismagazine.) With phlegm in the nose and head in the stars, we’ve got our eye on our “celebs.” ‘Cause let’s face it, the best part is when he finds out she’s really a “he” and pummels that snot right out of him.

Somewhere out there Old Hickory is surely shaking his old gray head. But hey, at least he’s watching.