-Here's a question related to yesterday's post. As almost all of you know, there's a dedicated community of bloggers who write about the portrayal of women in Marvel/DC comics. Though I think they're absolutely right and I greatly appreciate their efforts, this nevertheless seems like an exercise in frustration. Reading these various blogs, I'm under the impression that many feminist bloggers are still reading books which portray women in a sexist or even misogynistic light. I'm not suggesting that these bloggers take the advice of fanboy apologists ("if you don't like it, just don't read it and shut up"), because I think it's enormously helpful that someone is confronting Marvel and DC with these issues. Still I wonder, what exactly keeps you going? Why not write off these books and move on? Are you following them in a journalistic way, keeping up with them in order to monitor the portrayal of female characters? Is it an attachment to the superhero genre? To these particular characters? Do you enjoy other aspects of these series enough that, on balance, you'd prefer to keep reading them despite their problems? What books have pushed you to quit buying them or following them online via spoilers or, uh, whatever means available?
-And here's a question for everybody. Which is more egregiously sexist and/or misogynistic: "mainstream" comics art or "mainstream" comics writing?
-Johanna Draper Carlson calls Robert Kirkman's writing "pedestrian and perfunctory." Is "perfunctory" really the right word there, or did Carlson just like the alliteration? It's an odd choice; if forced to use it to describe mainstream comics writing, I would probably choose Warren Ellis' superhero work at Marvel or Chris Claremont's entire body of work since the second Reagan administration.
-What the fuck is "concern trolling?" Also, are people (read: men) really trying to woo other (female) bloggers somehow? Wouldn't that be kind of expensive in terms of airfare? Or is there a whole cross-country internet-enabled hookup scene I'm too old to know about?
-The design on these upcoming Vertical releases are incredible. I certainly hope there's a market for non-Tezuka classic manga. I guess Drifting Classroom is doing pretty well, though Museum of Terror really hasn't. Reprints certainly seem to be doing well at Fantagraphics, IDW, and D&Q. Hopefully Vertical or other publishers will take a chance on releasing some vintage material from names less familiar to American readers.
-I've been there, sadly. Except it wasn't grass, but hair.
-Greg Rucka likes the Tomb Raider games, or at least one of them. He also praises the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic games, which really are pretty swell. But still...Tomb Raider?
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
DC and its woman problem
-Greg Burgas is a brave man. Mr. Burgas seems to be under the impression that, since DC and Marvel appeal almost exclusively to adult men, that there's no problem with Michael Turner's uh, idiosyncratic depictions of women. That certainly seems to reflect DC's publishing strategy, which is basically in three parts: (1) Maintain intellectual properties so that they can be mined for use in other media. (2) Produce works featuring said intellectual properties which appeals to a narrow but devoted audience. (3) Appeal to new readers via alternate imprints targeting specific demographics. This strategy assumes that (1) and (2) are in some sort of cycle; new readers will learn about DC's superheroes via movies and cartoons, thus encouraging them to buy DC's mainline superhero titles. In turn, the stories published in these comics (2) will serve as R&D for future projects (1). Of course, there's a tremendous energy seepage involved here; a minuscule percentage the people reached by projects (1) go on to read comics (2).
I mention this strategy only because it's in such stark contrast to Marvel's. Marvel has abandoned any pretense of (3), with the exception of its kids-oriented Marvel Adventures line. But unlike Vertigo, CMX, Minx, or some of the Johnny DC titles, the goal isn't to serve a different demographic. Instead, Marvel hopes that readers of its Adventures line will grow into readers of its regular line. The mainline Marvel titles are the top of the heap in terms of sophistication; there's no parallel line such as Vertigo. DC can appeal to non-comics reading adults or adolescents readers through its various imprints; Marvel has no similar avenue. This is why events like Civil War are so important to Marvel. Civil War appealed to potential adult readers with a story alluding to real world events. Infinite Crisis did not. There was some mainstream media coverage of it, but I was under the impression that DC was targeting lapsed readers rather than trying to create new ones. (For the record, I doubt Marvel roped in too many new readers with Civil War, and I kind of think they didn't expect to do so. But they at least made a credible effort.)
The fundamental appeal of DC's superhero universe has always been that it's a rich, immersive fictional reality. In contrast, Marvel's appeal was that it reflected the real world quite a bit more. (I really think Quesada is on the level when he says that he's trying to return Marvel to this state through all the drastic changes we've seen throughout his tenure. Whether it's possible to arrest the momentum of years of continuity and fan expectation is an entirely different matter.) DC is essentially escapist, more interested in its own mythology than anything in the outside world. It appeals to readers wanting this kind of experience.
So really, I'm shocked that there isn't more of a Turnerian visual style to DC's titles. DC does seem to be angling for a 90s retro house style (if its flagship book, Justice League, is any indication). Unrealistic bodies, male or female, seem to be just what the typical DC reader wants in his comics. It reinforces the fantasy, guaranteeing that reality will not intrude on the reader's escape into comics. This sort of art also provides a degree of wish fulfillment, as the typical male reader projects himself into the ridiculously steroidal bodies of the male heroes, engaging the impossibly pneumatic female heroes as equals or (better yet) superiors.
Burgas essentially argues that there's no problem with this, since any male reader who can't discern reality from fantasy "doesn’t deserve an actual woman anyway, and they should die alone." I find this sentiment troubling, but I'll set it aside for now. What about the atypical reader? DC seems aware that there are women who read its superhero comics, yet the majority of its comics exclude them from the DC fantasy world. One might ask why women don't project themselves into the bodies of its female characters, as men do with the male characters. The reality is that male body image problems are not identical to female body image problems. This is not to say that men aren't anxious about their bodies, or that images of impossibly muscular men don't affect them; psychological studies indicate otherwise. But even if this body image anxiety affected men and women equally (and it doesn't), DC isn't sexualizing male characters in the same way that it sexualizes female characters. How many superheroes cavort in their underwear? How many of them have their costume ripped down to a G-string? Think about the wang debate of last week! But, since women are probably 5% of the readership at best, DC and its apologists choose to ignore these complaints.
What about Marvel? Well, as I mentioned above, Marvel has always tried to portray itself as a more realistic superhero universe. Tom Breevort and Joe Quesada both have recently criticized the "616" designation for its superhero universe, as it undermines the sense of reality they wish to create. Truthfully, though, the Marvel universe is really a fantasy world with a haphazardly applied veneer of reality. The initial characterization at Marvel might have prevented absolute fantasy projection; Spider-Man was a loser, Hulk a dangerous monster, the Thing an abomination, Daredevil was blind, Captain America a man out of time, etc. Over the years, however, these characters have become more and more heroic, better receptacles for the wounded psyche of the perpetually adolescent male. And Marvel certainly has its share of balloon chested super-heroines. Of course, many of the most obvious examples are decidedly non-human; it's unclear what kind of body image issues are provoked by the likes of Tigra or She-Hulk. But still, Marvel is no paragon of realistically proportioned women; this is the company that employs Greg Land and Frank Cho, after all. If the current Ultron isn't an example of pandering, what is?
Having said all that, I still think DC is currently a worse offender than Marvel. Turner is drawing covers for both companies, but his work at Marvel has been relatively understated (still bad, but not as screamingly bad). Marvel has no equivalent to Supergirl, Wondergirl, or even Stargirl; its teenage superheroines dress like Victorian schoolmarms in comparison. There's a sort of trade-off here. Marvel's superpowered women (with the possible exception of Jean Grey) lack the cultural significance of DC's. The most prominent superheroines at Marvel are cognates or confirmed B-listers; none of them are as important as Spider-Man's female supporting cast. None of them are as important as Gwen Stacy, who died before I was born! And that's exactly why Michael Turner's depiction of Power Girl is so frustrating to so many people. DC is in a much better position to produce comics featuring powerful, self-actuating superheroines. Yet it can't, since this would alienate much of its fantasy-craving readership.
I mention this strategy only because it's in such stark contrast to Marvel's. Marvel has abandoned any pretense of (3), with the exception of its kids-oriented Marvel Adventures line. But unlike Vertigo, CMX, Minx, or some of the Johnny DC titles, the goal isn't to serve a different demographic. Instead, Marvel hopes that readers of its Adventures line will grow into readers of its regular line. The mainline Marvel titles are the top of the heap in terms of sophistication; there's no parallel line such as Vertigo. DC can appeal to non-comics reading adults or adolescents readers through its various imprints; Marvel has no similar avenue. This is why events like Civil War are so important to Marvel. Civil War appealed to potential adult readers with a story alluding to real world events. Infinite Crisis did not. There was some mainstream media coverage of it, but I was under the impression that DC was targeting lapsed readers rather than trying to create new ones. (For the record, I doubt Marvel roped in too many new readers with Civil War, and I kind of think they didn't expect to do so. But they at least made a credible effort.)
The fundamental appeal of DC's superhero universe has always been that it's a rich, immersive fictional reality. In contrast, Marvel's appeal was that it reflected the real world quite a bit more. (I really think Quesada is on the level when he says that he's trying to return Marvel to this state through all the drastic changes we've seen throughout his tenure. Whether it's possible to arrest the momentum of years of continuity and fan expectation is an entirely different matter.) DC is essentially escapist, more interested in its own mythology than anything in the outside world. It appeals to readers wanting this kind of experience.
So really, I'm shocked that there isn't more of a Turnerian visual style to DC's titles. DC does seem to be angling for a 90s retro house style (if its flagship book, Justice League, is any indication). Unrealistic bodies, male or female, seem to be just what the typical DC reader wants in his comics. It reinforces the fantasy, guaranteeing that reality will not intrude on the reader's escape into comics. This sort of art also provides a degree of wish fulfillment, as the typical male reader projects himself into the ridiculously steroidal bodies of the male heroes, engaging the impossibly pneumatic female heroes as equals or (better yet) superiors.
Burgas essentially argues that there's no problem with this, since any male reader who can't discern reality from fantasy "doesn’t deserve an actual woman anyway, and they should die alone." I find this sentiment troubling, but I'll set it aside for now. What about the atypical reader? DC seems aware that there are women who read its superhero comics, yet the majority of its comics exclude them from the DC fantasy world. One might ask why women don't project themselves into the bodies of its female characters, as men do with the male characters. The reality is that male body image problems are not identical to female body image problems. This is not to say that men aren't anxious about their bodies, or that images of impossibly muscular men don't affect them; psychological studies indicate otherwise. But even if this body image anxiety affected men and women equally (and it doesn't), DC isn't sexualizing male characters in the same way that it sexualizes female characters. How many superheroes cavort in their underwear? How many of them have their costume ripped down to a G-string? Think about the wang debate of last week! But, since women are probably 5% of the readership at best, DC and its apologists choose to ignore these complaints.
What about Marvel? Well, as I mentioned above, Marvel has always tried to portray itself as a more realistic superhero universe. Tom Breevort and Joe Quesada both have recently criticized the "616" designation for its superhero universe, as it undermines the sense of reality they wish to create. Truthfully, though, the Marvel universe is really a fantasy world with a haphazardly applied veneer of reality. The initial characterization at Marvel might have prevented absolute fantasy projection; Spider-Man was a loser, Hulk a dangerous monster, the Thing an abomination, Daredevil was blind, Captain America a man out of time, etc. Over the years, however, these characters have become more and more heroic, better receptacles for the wounded psyche of the perpetually adolescent male. And Marvel certainly has its share of balloon chested super-heroines. Of course, many of the most obvious examples are decidedly non-human; it's unclear what kind of body image issues are provoked by the likes of Tigra or She-Hulk. But still, Marvel is no paragon of realistically proportioned women; this is the company that employs Greg Land and Frank Cho, after all. If the current Ultron isn't an example of pandering, what is?
Having said all that, I still think DC is currently a worse offender than Marvel. Turner is drawing covers for both companies, but his work at Marvel has been relatively understated (still bad, but not as screamingly bad). Marvel has no equivalent to Supergirl, Wondergirl, or even Stargirl; its teenage superheroines dress like Victorian schoolmarms in comparison. There's a sort of trade-off here. Marvel's superpowered women (with the possible exception of Jean Grey) lack the cultural significance of DC's. The most prominent superheroines at Marvel are cognates or confirmed B-listers; none of them are as important as Spider-Man's female supporting cast. None of them are as important as Gwen Stacy, who died before I was born! And that's exactly why Michael Turner's depiction of Power Girl is so frustrating to so many people. DC is in a much better position to produce comics featuring powerful, self-actuating superheroines. Yet it can't, since this would alienate much of its fantasy-craving readership.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Request Day
-Request Day part one: Chris from Two Guys Buying Comics has suggested I comment on Keith Giffen's recent list of things related to the end of 52. Chris is particularly interested in Giffen's comments re: Greg Rucka, which might be considered playful, cranky, or both. Actually, I was much more interested in Giffen's comments about the art. The relevant comments:
"38) About our anchor artists, the three Bs: I’d been a fan of Bennett’s and Batista’s work long before 52, but Barrows took me by surprise. He was a Wacker inductee and thank God for that.
...
37) Why we didn’t make more use of Phil Jimenez and Dan Jurgens is still a mystery to me.
...
30) As a goof, in the breakdowns, I drew that new Zatarra kid in Zatanna’s fishnets-and-corset getup. The penciler actually drew him that way. My pleas to let it go through like that went unheeded.
...
3) I still think Wizard should give some serious props to the 52 artists. For that matter, so should DC."
It's kind of universally accepted that the art was one of the weakest (maybe THE weakest), elements of 52; this almost seems like a reaction to these criticisms. Strangely, Giffen seems to have escaped blame, even though he laid out every issue. Does he deserve to get a pass? Try comparing his layouts to the finished project. Giffen's work is frequently superior to the finished art. His panels are much more tightly composed, his action more dynamic, his character work more expressive. The composition is the big thing, though. The finished art frequently lies dead on the page, as though the pencillers didn't account for negative space or eye movement or any of those things you're supposed to learn in high school. Which is frankly baffling, given that Giffen's involvement was presumably intended to prevent just these sorts of problems.
You know, this whole thing has actually increased my respect for Giffen. He was producing these layouts at an exhausting pace, but they're much, much better than the composition one sees from artists who labor over their work for much longer periods of time. 52 would have been a much more satisfying reading experience if the artists had followed his layouts more closely, or at least spent more time thinking about the decisions Giffen made. We'll see if the Countdown artists learn from this lesson.
-Request Day part two: An English teaching friend from the (literal) old school tells me that he's seen a lot of educational graphic novels in the vendor's area of a couple of recent conferences. Unfortunately, they're bad. Real bad, like. The art is terrible and the word balloons hastily and sloppily constructed using a Times Roman-type font. (Kind of sounds like Cracked, c. 1989, so far.) The subjects are certainly educational--examples include George Washington Carver, Trail of Tears, and Atlantis (I don't get that last one either)--but the execution is so bad that they might poison the well for future efforts. I might add that being forced to read bad comics in school might make it even less likely that kids will try good comics.
Anyone familiar with these products? I assume that the Center for Cartoon Studies-produced books published by Hyperion are partly intended to compete in this market. I'm sure they compare very favorably to the products my friend describes, but I wonder if the damage might already be done.
-That terrible college newspaper top five comics list is really making the rounds. The comments on Blogarama (that's my new name for it) are worth noting, though, because the one and only Avi Green shows up with his own unique list:
"– Marvel Two-in-One #91, featuring the origin of the Sphinx, Anatha Na-Mut.
– The Flash: Terminal Velocity.
– Asterix and the Roman Agent.
– Avengers: The Kree-Skrull War.
– And I enjoyed the whole storyline featuring Terra, who infiltrated the Teen Titans, from beginning to end."
Awesome. My own list:
1. Deathmate: Yellow
2. The collected lettercolumns of Who's Who, first edition (there's an awesome running debate about how to pronounce "Ra's Ahl Guhl")
3. The issue of Marvel Team-Up where Reed Richards zaps off Spider-Man's black costume, and Spider-Man has to go home wearing an old Fantastic Four costume with a paper bag over his head, and I think also a "Kick Me" sign which the Human Torch affixed to his back.
4. The entire first wave of Dark Horse's Comics Greatest World--you know, the ones that were all $1 each--except Hero Zero, cause it featured art by Eric Shanower, whose values clash with the sense of morality instilled in me from reading Marvel Team-Up and Deathmate.
5. Antique Bakery
I defy anyone to find fault with that list.
-Related: Does Avi Green know the difference between Brian Bendis and Ed Brubaker? Someone needs to track down Jesse Baker for me. I've got an idea for a weekly debate column featuring these two. I think I'll call it "Fuck You/Counter-Fuck You."
"38) About our anchor artists, the three Bs: I’d been a fan of Bennett’s and Batista’s work long before 52, but Barrows took me by surprise. He was a Wacker inductee and thank God for that.
...
37) Why we didn’t make more use of Phil Jimenez and Dan Jurgens is still a mystery to me.
...
30) As a goof, in the breakdowns, I drew that new Zatarra kid in Zatanna’s fishnets-and-corset getup. The penciler actually drew him that way. My pleas to let it go through like that went unheeded.
...
3) I still think Wizard should give some serious props to the 52 artists. For that matter, so should DC."
It's kind of universally accepted that the art was one of the weakest (maybe THE weakest), elements of 52; this almost seems like a reaction to these criticisms. Strangely, Giffen seems to have escaped blame, even though he laid out every issue. Does he deserve to get a pass? Try comparing his layouts to the finished project. Giffen's work is frequently superior to the finished art. His panels are much more tightly composed, his action more dynamic, his character work more expressive. The composition is the big thing, though. The finished art frequently lies dead on the page, as though the pencillers didn't account for negative space or eye movement or any of those things you're supposed to learn in high school. Which is frankly baffling, given that Giffen's involvement was presumably intended to prevent just these sorts of problems.
You know, this whole thing has actually increased my respect for Giffen. He was producing these layouts at an exhausting pace, but they're much, much better than the composition one sees from artists who labor over their work for much longer periods of time. 52 would have been a much more satisfying reading experience if the artists had followed his layouts more closely, or at least spent more time thinking about the decisions Giffen made. We'll see if the Countdown artists learn from this lesson.
-Request Day part two: An English teaching friend from the (literal) old school tells me that he's seen a lot of educational graphic novels in the vendor's area of a couple of recent conferences. Unfortunately, they're bad. Real bad, like. The art is terrible and the word balloons hastily and sloppily constructed using a Times Roman-type font. (Kind of sounds like Cracked, c. 1989, so far.) The subjects are certainly educational--examples include George Washington Carver, Trail of Tears, and Atlantis (I don't get that last one either)--but the execution is so bad that they might poison the well for future efforts. I might add that being forced to read bad comics in school might make it even less likely that kids will try good comics.
Anyone familiar with these products? I assume that the Center for Cartoon Studies-produced books published by Hyperion are partly intended to compete in this market. I'm sure they compare very favorably to the products my friend describes, but I wonder if the damage might already be done.
-That terrible college newspaper top five comics list is really making the rounds. The comments on Blogarama (that's my new name for it) are worth noting, though, because the one and only Avi Green shows up with his own unique list:
"– Marvel Two-in-One #91, featuring the origin of the Sphinx, Anatha Na-Mut.
– The Flash: Terminal Velocity.
– Asterix and the Roman Agent.
– Avengers: The Kree-Skrull War.
– And I enjoyed the whole storyline featuring Terra, who infiltrated the Teen Titans, from beginning to end."
Awesome. My own list:
1. Deathmate: Yellow
2. The collected lettercolumns of Who's Who, first edition (there's an awesome running debate about how to pronounce "Ra's Ahl Guhl")
3. The issue of Marvel Team-Up where Reed Richards zaps off Spider-Man's black costume, and Spider-Man has to go home wearing an old Fantastic Four costume with a paper bag over his head, and I think also a "Kick Me" sign which the Human Torch affixed to his back.
4. The entire first wave of Dark Horse's Comics Greatest World--you know, the ones that were all $1 each--except Hero Zero, cause it featured art by Eric Shanower, whose values clash with the sense of morality instilled in me from reading Marvel Team-Up and Deathmate.
5. Antique Bakery
I defy anyone to find fault with that list.
-Related: Does Avi Green know the difference between Brian Bendis and Ed Brubaker? Someone needs to track down Jesse Baker for me. I've got an idea for a weekly debate column featuring these two. I think I'll call it "Fuck You/Counter-Fuck You."
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Also, our neighbors nearly burned down the building Sunday night and we slept through it
Sorry for the lack of posts lately. Nothing's really riled me up lately for whatever reason. I guess the Super-Penis Follies were just too intense, leaving me depleted and flaccid. (Actually, as soon as I'm good and sure that the topic has finally died down, I'll spring a series of Penis Polls on you folks. First up: Doctor Octopus or Alfred the butler--whose is bigger?)
I was thinking about saying something about Johanna Draper Carlson's recent ax-grinding session, or maybe her possible attempt to provoke a feud between John Cooke and his former publisher TwoMorrows. But the former led me to write a brief-yet-boring essay on why it might not be the worst thing in the world for young manga readers to pick up some Marvel and DC comics (the short version: I would hope that it would convince these hypothetical readers that they like the medium of comics, regardless of format or genre, thus perhaps encouraging them to eventually try the kinds of comics published by Fantagraphics, D&Q, First Second, etc.). As for the latter, I didn't really have anything to say at all, other than I'm pretty sure I saw that Comic Book Artist cover earlier this year, leading me to think that Cooke is probably not trying to sabotage his former publisher.
Anyway, other than continuing phallocentric discussion and my getting irritated with Carlson, there's not much in which to sink my fangs. Of course, whenever I've made a post like this in the past, it's usually followed by a bunch of crazy shit which provides material for days and days of lazy posting. Perhaps posting a musical-type clip will hasten this process.
This is for you Johnny Bacardi!
I was thinking about saying something about Johanna Draper Carlson's recent ax-grinding session, or maybe her possible attempt to provoke a feud between John Cooke and his former publisher TwoMorrows. But the former led me to write a brief-yet-boring essay on why it might not be the worst thing in the world for young manga readers to pick up some Marvel and DC comics (the short version: I would hope that it would convince these hypothetical readers that they like the medium of comics, regardless of format or genre, thus perhaps encouraging them to eventually try the kinds of comics published by Fantagraphics, D&Q, First Second, etc.). As for the latter, I didn't really have anything to say at all, other than I'm pretty sure I saw that Comic Book Artist cover earlier this year, leading me to think that Cooke is probably not trying to sabotage his former publisher.
Anyway, other than continuing phallocentric discussion and my getting irritated with Carlson, there's not much in which to sink my fangs. Of course, whenever I've made a post like this in the past, it's usually followed by a bunch of crazy shit which provides material for days and days of lazy posting. Perhaps posting a musical-type clip will hasten this process.
This is for you Johnny Bacardi!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Since this wang thing seems to have legs...
Here's a project for someone more tolerant of Alex Ross than I am. I've read several arguments that Ross painted Colonel Steel with a bulge only because his model had one. I have no idea if this is true, because I really don't pay much attention to Ross' art. (I mean, at the risk of undermining my credibility I will admit to owning a copy of Kingdom Come, but I don't feel like spending Saturday afternoon looking at Ross' drearily realistic depictions of intellectual properties who have no place in reality.) But for those of you who do pay attention to Ross' art (or who are willing to do so), I have formulated a rough plan for a study of his phallic leanings (does that count as a pun?):
1. Does Ross have a habit of painting men with realistic genitalia, or was the current painting in question an aberration?
2. Is there any pattern to his depiction of bulges?
3. If there is a pattern, does it reflect the genitalistic diversity of his models, or does it reflect Ross' perception of which characters should be well-endowed? If my suspicion is correct, I'm guessing that a certain Green Lantern is putting this Steel fellow to shame.
(I suppose it's also possible that Ross has simply become more comfortable with the male body over time, or perhaps has developed a sense of humor, or has become sympathetic to those of us who are annoyed with the depiction of women in comics, or maybe he's just looking to bait some fanboys. But I'm betting on the Hal Jordan Hypothesis)
Let me know if any of you are interested! I'll send my copy of Kingdom Come as a reward for the first person who produces a study that meets my approval.
1. Does Ross have a habit of painting men with realistic genitalia, or was the current painting in question an aberration?
2. Is there any pattern to his depiction of bulges?
3. If there is a pattern, does it reflect the genitalistic diversity of his models, or does it reflect Ross' perception of which characters should be well-endowed? If my suspicion is correct, I'm guessing that a certain Green Lantern is putting this Steel fellow to shame.
(I suppose it's also possible that Ross has simply become more comfortable with the male body over time, or perhaps has developed a sense of humor, or has become sympathetic to those of us who are annoyed with the depiction of women in comics, or maybe he's just looking to bait some fanboys. But I'm betting on the Hal Jordan Hypothesis)
Let me know if any of you are interested! I'll send my copy of Kingdom Come as a reward for the first person who produces a study that meets my approval.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Oh what the hell: Hate Poll
So I've been floored by the overwhelmingly negative reviews for WWIII, and decided to (temporarily?) resurrect an old feature.
The case against WWIII: "So the problem isn’t really that World War III is little more than a 90 or so page clump of continuity porn. The real issue is that it’s gonzo continuity porn. As in, there’s only forty-five seconds of repartee, if that, before those discrepancies start resolving."
The case against Civil War: Frontline: I think there was something about Youtube. It's been a while, I can't remember.
Yes, I know I'm begging to be called a hypocrite by mentioning Civil War, but (at least re: said miniseries) it seems like the blogosphere is finally napping quietly after throwing a month-long, blue-in-the-face temper tantrum.
Oh, here's a feedback type poll:
(Hey, now I'm kind of remembering why I quit doing these; the constant edits to make sure all my ducks are in a row. Awesome!)
The case against WWIII: "So the problem isn’t really that World War III is little more than a 90 or so page clump of continuity porn. The real issue is that it’s gonzo continuity porn. As in, there’s only forty-five seconds of repartee, if that, before those discrepancies start resolving."
The case against Civil War: Frontline: I think there was something about Youtube. It's been a while, I can't remember.
Yes, I know I'm begging to be called a hypocrite by mentioning Civil War, but (at least re: said miniseries) it seems like the blogosphere is finally napping quietly after throwing a month-long, blue-in-the-face temper tantrum.
Oh, here's a feedback type poll:
(Hey, now I'm kind of remembering why I quit doing these; the constant edits to make sure all my ducks are in a row. Awesome!)
Anyone have a cheap video card for sale?
-So here's my new theory for Marvel and DC: since there's a vocal segment of their readerships who have no interest whatsoever in art, why not start a line of horrible, faux pulp novels for these readers? Let Fabian Nicieza write his Thunderbolts For Advanced Continuity Fetishists (or the solo adventures of Baron Zemo, whatever), Peter David his Hulk Hate Stupid Therapy, Dan Slott his I Can't Believe It's Not Marvel Two-in-One, etc., in this format. You might say these would be pretty terrible books, but they were pretty terrible comic books too. The advantage to the Terrible Book plan is that DC/Marvel wouldn't have to pay for artists, plus impatient fans wouldn't have to worry about stupid artists holding up their monthly fix with blown deadlines. (Yes, I'm reasonably certain that any of these writers squeeze out a 250 page novel every month; it's the artists who have screwed everything up, after all.) It's a win-win situation! DiDio, what are you waiting for? This might save your career! Quesada, maybe this is what you need to do in order to get in these particular fanboys' good graces (which is, after all, the most important single concern facing the editor-in-chief of the largest comics company in America). If you choose to use this idea, I'll take my usual consulting fee.
-Via Flog, a great Richard Sala interview:
"I know it makes me seem a hundred years old to say that, but when I was little, Dick Tracy was on the front page of the Sunday comic section (in Chicago) and I got hooked at a very early age. It was the first thing I ever saved -- I cut out strips and put them in scrapbooks -- even before I began saving comic books. The Tracy strips from the 1960s and 1970s seem to get a bad rap sometimes compared to his earlier work -- but I was perfectly happy with them -- they were crazy and lurid. They had stopped being like police procedurals and instead were about -- well, to this day I'm not sure what those later strips were about! Good and evil maybe? Who knows? But you really never knew what would happen next. They could certainly never be in daily newspapers today -- not just because of the violence (which was gloriously over-the-top) but because in its twilight years it often appeared to flirt with becoming seriously unhinged."
I can't remember if I'd heard Sala talk about his Gould influence before, or if it just makes perfect sense in hindsight. I'm immediately reminded of the rogue's galleries in the back of the collected Chuckling Whatsit. Anyway, Sala also makes some good points about the difficulty in classifying his work. I can't help but think it would do well with fans of Jhonen Vasquez, but somehow I just can't see Delphine being sold at Hot Topic.
-Will Bahlactus (sadly not his real name) ever explain to us the process by which he determines whether calling someone a "chickenhead" is appropriate? I've asked ever so nicely. Please let us know, cause it doesn't seem any better than calling someone a "cocksucker," which is something I generally avoid for reasons I'll describe in detail if anyone is interested (though, truthfully, it's nothing particularly revelatory).
-I always knew the Asorbascon (NIM) wasn't written for people like me, but I really didn't know just how not-for-me it was until I read this (or, to be more accurate, the first and last five lines of it). What the fuck was that about? More importantly, when are we going to get another hissy fit? That's the only reason you're on my Google Reader thing, dude.
-Kind of interesting, at least to me. Bear in mind that my brother and I used to buy and read old issues of Marvel Age and that, instead of writing and drawing comics like most kids, I made my own mock versions of MA for my imaginary comics company.
-Via Flog, a great Richard Sala interview:
"I know it makes me seem a hundred years old to say that, but when I was little, Dick Tracy was on the front page of the Sunday comic section (in Chicago) and I got hooked at a very early age. It was the first thing I ever saved -- I cut out strips and put them in scrapbooks -- even before I began saving comic books. The Tracy strips from the 1960s and 1970s seem to get a bad rap sometimes compared to his earlier work -- but I was perfectly happy with them -- they were crazy and lurid. They had stopped being like police procedurals and instead were about -- well, to this day I'm not sure what those later strips were about! Good and evil maybe? Who knows? But you really never knew what would happen next. They could certainly never be in daily newspapers today -- not just because of the violence (which was gloriously over-the-top) but because in its twilight years it often appeared to flirt with becoming seriously unhinged."
I can't remember if I'd heard Sala talk about his Gould influence before, or if it just makes perfect sense in hindsight. I'm immediately reminded of the rogue's galleries in the back of the collected Chuckling Whatsit. Anyway, Sala also makes some good points about the difficulty in classifying his work. I can't help but think it would do well with fans of Jhonen Vasquez, but somehow I just can't see Delphine being sold at Hot Topic.
-Will Bahlactus (sadly not his real name) ever explain to us the process by which he determines whether calling someone a "chickenhead" is appropriate? I've asked ever so nicely. Please let us know, cause it doesn't seem any better than calling someone a "cocksucker," which is something I generally avoid for reasons I'll describe in detail if anyone is interested (though, truthfully, it's nothing particularly revelatory).
-I always knew the Asorbascon (NIM) wasn't written for people like me, but I really didn't know just how not-for-me it was until I read this (or, to be more accurate, the first and last five lines of it). What the fuck was that about? More importantly, when are we going to get another hissy fit? That's the only reason you're on my Google Reader thing, dude.
-Kind of interesting, at least to me. Bear in mind that my brother and I used to buy and read old issues of Marvel Age and that, instead of writing and drawing comics like most kids, I made my own mock versions of MA for my imaginary comics company.
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