Just saw The Avengers, and it’s a good movie.

This is the part where comic fans bite my head off – “What?! Not Great?! What are you smoking?!”

No, not great, and for one good reason…

CHRIS ROCK.

In his 1996 HBO special “Bring the Pain,” Chris Rock said, “Niggas always want credit for some shit they supposed to do. A nigga will brag about some shit a normal man just does. A nigga will say some shit like, “I take care of my kids.” You’re supposed to, you dumb motherfucker! What kind of ignorant shit is that? “I ain’t never been to jail!” What do you want, a cookie?! You’re not supposed to go to jail, you low-expectation-having motherfucker!”

Not long ago, I started noticing how we credit people, applaud and cheer them, for doing what they are supposed to do, for what’s expected of them. As an audience, we are so constantly disappointed, by everything, that when someone actually does something that makes sense, we are amazed.

I told myself; no longer would I applaud “the norm.” I’m not going to lose my mind over Robert DeNiro’s portrayal of an Italian gangster. I’m not going to go wide eyed because James Cameron delivered a good sci-fi action movie.

And, I’m not going to applaud The Avengers movie because filmmakers delivered a good, by the numbers, comic book movie when they had over 60 years of material to draw from.

The Avengers #1 1963

NOTE: The Avengers was first published in 1963. That’s 49 years and 4 volumes of story and character development.

I’m not going to be amazed that Joss Whedon was able to direct a good action movie that gave everyone their moment in the sun when he’s been doing that for 23 years on large and small screens, and comic books.

I’m not going to applaud Marvel for deciding, after licensing their characters in live action productions as far back as 1977 to disastrous results, to finally do it themselves, using comic book creators in the production, and reputable filmmakers.

I’m not applauding that Chris Hemsworth (Thor) delivered the same character he played last year, or that Robert Downey Jr. knows how to do a damn good Tony Stark/Iron Man after two movies, and a third soon to come.

No, I’m not applauding. I’m saying “It’s about fucking time. Now, where do you take me from here?”

That’s right! After years of asking Marvel (and Hollywood) “What have you done for me lately?!” I left The Avengers asking what’s next. What are they going to do now? Where are they going to take me, or do I look forward to more of the same four or six years from now?

The Avengers did deliver some unexpected things that should be applauded…

Chris Evans deserves massive respect for, finally, ditching his goofball performances, and showing massive acting chops many didn’t know he had. Let’s not forget, this is the same performer we thought couldn’t deliver Fantastic Four’s Johnny Storm in 2005. Now, he’s giving us the “Sentinel of Liberty,” and I have to fight the urge to stand and salute when I see him.

NOTE: Did you notice Chris Evans actually looks like Jim Cheung’s Captain America?

See what I mean?

I will join the applause for Mark Ruffalo who nailed a damn good Banner/Hulk. I regarded Ruffalo in the same way I did (Alfred) Molina as Doctor Octavius/Dr. Octopus in Spider-Man 2 (2004), and was pleasantly surprised by both. Ruffalo is an actor, producer, writer, and director who I don’t remember “lighting up the screen” until now. He got the ball, ran with it, and I hope they give it to him again in his own production.

The biggest surprise from The Avengers is…

HAWKEYE.

I’ve never liked Hawkeye.

I never liked his suit.

I never liked his name.

I never liked his collection of trick arrows.

I’m not surprised Jeremy Renner kicked action movie hero ass, just see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, or go back to SWAT (2003) to see him do that. No, but he made me care about a character I’ve written-off since I was 10yo. I walked away from this movie, not just loving Hawkeye; he is my favorite Marvel character now, second only to Nightcrawler.

NOTE: Yes, I am well aware this new incarnation of the character is thanks to Mark Millar’s work on The Ultimates, and you have no idea how that urks me. I’m choosing to ignore it.

I’m also surprised no one has made a Samuel L. Jackson/Nick Fury spoof yet, where they inject “motherfucker” in his dialogue.

Done.

The Avengers is worth the money, and the long waiting in IMAX lines, but let’s not lose our heads. Remember, we want more. We deserve more. We want to be amazed and surprised by the unexpected (i.e. Nolan’s Batman movies), or else we can stay home and watch the Blu-ray for $25.

Nuff said.

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As much as I would like to think that youtube is a couch potato’s dream realized, I also believe that it serves as a preservation device.  It preserves those things (thoughts, words, and ideas) that might have been lost had a forum like this not been created.  But, getting back to the basis behind this blog…ah yes..inspiration.  Well, I searched youtube.com for thoughts and words from an artist that I really admired, the late great Jack Kirby (who better for a comic artist to hear from right?).  I really didn’t know what I would find, considering Jack Kirby had passed away in 1994.  But, to my surprise, I found quite a bit on him…and not just some interviews, but also a documentary, and some personal memories shared by other great artists and writers in the comic book field.

As much as people like to throw his name around and idolize him (as I do), I don’t think people ever really get a chance to get into the mind of the man who helped to forge this industry and learn what he really believed.  They never really understand that Jack Kirby was a no nonsense guy who saw comic books not only as art, but as a business.  It is a business that he excelled in as a storyteller, using his talents to provide for his family (while leaving the rest of us with a wonderful legacy).

Jack Kirby came from a different era where he was both artist and salesman, and he used his self knowledge of this to make himself invaluable in the field.  He had street smarts and book smarts, and he was both tough and gentle at the same time.  He was definitely a genius, but he was humble as well, seeing himself as he saw the rest of society.  He could see the flaws in himself, and in humanity, but he still believed in the best of himself, and in the best of us.  That is what he put down on paper every day he drew…and what he created was something far above what comic book fans could imagine at that time.  Even still, he believed that we could all do the same if we strove to do the best we could.  So without further wait, I have posted a couple of the videos that I watched below.  Some of these are in several parts, and I only posted the first ones of each, so you will just have to leapfrog along to get to the rest.  But I have a feeling, that once you start watching, you will get hooked.

JACK KIRBY documentary – Part 1 of 5

Jack Kirby Interview – Part I

Am I wrong for not being excited about Avengers vs. X-Men (dubbed “AvX” for short)? As much as websites, interviews, and journalist have pumped this up to “Event of the Year” status, I’m just not feeling it.

I know I may not have my finger on the pulse of comic book fandom, but I can, usually, still feel when something is truly huge. DC’s New 52 was that way, it was a really big thing, and it took some time before it tapered off.

I can understand why I, and any long time comic fans, may not be hyped to see this crossover, because we’ve seen it many times before. The X-Men and Avengers have been clashing since Uncanny X-Men issue # 9, way back in the 1960′s, when the mutant “hippie” teens went up against the parental “square” super team. I can still remember Silvestri’s 1987 mini-series, another time when Magneto had joined the team. In that, “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” wanted Magneto for his mutant terrorist crimes, and the X-men fought to protect one if their own. And, before that, it was the X-men vs. the Fantastic Four four-issue mini, maybe in the same year.

What about the new fans, though? Are they looking forward to this? I don’t hear much from new readers, now that I think about it. Or, they’re not open about being new, preferring to blend in with the rest.

So, is it me, or is this just not as big as Marvel and the press are making it out to be?

I was up late, working, getting my ducks all in a row. It’s good to periodically put your notes in order and sync everything up. When you begin working, you start with a foundation, but then creation takes hold, the character comes alive, tells you what to do, and you end up changing things. You need to sync up the creative process with the editorial work.

It never fails, when I do research, where I start will lead me to something better, or something good I never knew existed. With GORYO DOG, I’ve learned so many new and exciting things about mythology, spirituality, Japanese folklore and culture, martial arts, manga, and anime.

Case in point, I’m updating my listing for GENYOSHA, a major antagonist for Willie and his crew, who I first classified as a “dark onmyoji.” An ONMYOJI is an occultist, specializing in magic, divination, and using shikigami (spirit familiars). But, with writing and development, that no longer fit the character, he’s more of a dark sorcerer, but what’s that in Japanese?

Bust out the translator…

SELECT: English to Japanese

TYPE-IN: Dark Sorcery

RESULT: Kurai Majutsu

Now, because we all know how translator programs can get things wrong, I hit-up Google to see if there’s any legitimacy to what I’ve learned. I confirm majutsu means magic or magical, and kurai can mean dark or gloomy, but I also find listings for something else, a manga named TOARU MAJUTSU NO INDEX, an ongoing manga since 2007 in Monthly Shōnen Gangan, adapted from a novel series, and turned into a three television series, an OVA (original video animation), game, and (as far as I can tell) at least one sequel, and two spin-offs. The story is perfect for a shōnen junky like me…

(From Wikipedia)

“Toaru Majutsu no Index is set in Academy City, a technologically advanced Academic city located at western Tokyo which studies scientifically advanced superhuman students with powers, but is also set in a world where magic is real. Tōma Kamijō is a student in Academy City whose right hand, the Imagine Breaker, has the ability to negate any supernatural powers, but also his own luck. One day he finds a young girl hanging on his balcony railing named Index. She is a nun from Necessarius, a secret magic branch of the Church of England, and her mind has been implanted with the Index Librorum Prohibitorum—103,000 forbidden magical books the Church has removed from circulation. His encounter with her leads him to meet others from the secret world of science and magic and an adventure with his friends where science and magic collide. Tōma’s unusual power places him at the center of conflicts relating magicians and science-based espers in Academy City. As Tōma tries to help and protect his friends, he learns the people he knows are not as they appear and begins to attract the attention of magicians and espers alike as they try to unravel the secrets of Academy City and Index.”

Magic, psychics, and a techno advance school for the supernaturally gifted – what more can you ask for? With BLEACH coming to a close, and the rumored ending to NARUTO not far off, I’ve been looking for something to fill the void they’ll leave behind.

The anime looks nice too…

Just shows you, research can be fun!

I just saw TWILIGHT: BREAKING DAWN (PART 1) and I didn’t like it, but instead of ranting on about how bad it was, I’m going to change the pattern. I’m going to admit the reason I didn’t like it, is because I couldn’t like it, because, it wasn’t made for me. I promise, this won’t be entirely negative.

I’m a 40 year old husband and father of two. I’ve been married almost half my life (at this point). I’m a pop culture, genre geek; I’ve seen movies, television shows, read more books, comic books, short stories, and listened to audiobooks more than the average person. On top of that, I’m a genre writer, meaning, I’ve read more about where fictional characters come from than the average fan.

I’m pretty much everything that wasn’t considered when TWILIGHT was written and adapted.

As a husband who was faced with the question of marriage, pregnancy, and the decision of choosing my wife over the life of a fetus, I would always choose my wife. I can always have another baby, biological or not.

As a father, the idea of my daughter having such little esteem and strength to give up her identity for an ordinary boy, let alone a monster of myth and legend, terrifies me. I devote my life to teaching her every day to avoid those emotional trappings that predators and abusers of women rely on. In the case of my wife, as a husband, it is also my duty to make certain her responsibilities as a mother do not consume her. She was her own person before she chose to become a wife and mother, she still is that person, and I respect that, not letting it be forgotten.

As a genre fan, I can’t forgo generations of creative history, and what doesn’t make sense, even in the world of fandom. You can tell me vampires are heroic, but you can’t make me believe they glitter in the sun, are dead, but produce semen to impregnate a human.

Finally, as a writer, I try very hard to make my work(s) believable. I know that a good story is a believable story, one a reader can connect with. One way of doing that is closing plot holes, things that break the flow of story; the reader disconnects, separates themselves, and goes “Huh?” A fictional writer deals with extraordinary circumstances, but the reactions to those circumstances are still rational, for the hero, if no one else. That’s what separates the hero from the others, while they panic and submit, the hero or heroine thinks their way through, makes (obvious) choices, the same you or I would likely make, and we want to see what happens.

A comedy writer does the opposite. The obvious, rationale way out of a problem eludes them, things multiply, and the farce begins until things get so out of hand, there’s no way to stop, but to do the rational thing that could have stopped troubles before they started.

So, it’s hard for me to read or watch TWILIGHT, handling conflict as a comedy, but insisting it’s an action/adventure/drama. And, as I sit, watching, wondering if I’m mistaken, my wife and daughter erupt into laughter during the most dramatic part of the movie, as Bella is allowed to make another insane choice.

TWILIGHT was not made for me, but who was it made for? I mean, do writers really have to try that hard to write smart stories anymore? Has the gimmick become the story? James Cameron’s AVATAR was a technological wonder, but a mediocre story seen a hundred times. Still, people walked away from theaters with tears in their eyes because “it was so real, and did you see those colors?”

I can understand the fandom of HARRY POTTER, because most have read the books, and excuse the dumbed-down movies. I had a bone to pick with the franchise for a while, mostly because I’m a BOOKS OF MAGIC loyalist, and speculated Harry to be a Tim Hunter clone. After listening to the audiobooks, that went away, and I became a fan because the stories and characters are that damn good. The characters are believable, the situations are intelligently orchestrated, and the plot holes are covered.

But, what if the love for HARRY POTTER just comes down to having magic in it? What if TWILIGHT fans just care that it has vampires, werewolves, hybrid babies? What if STAR WARS wouldn’t be around all this time, if not for laser swords? The older I get, the more I see, the fewer genre stories have any weight to them; about nothing but a beautiful woman squeezed to a vinyl bodysuit, given trench coat, two guns, and line like, “I am a death dealer.”

TWILIGHT fans, in answer to dislike of the series, will respond that it’s not for those people, it wasn’t written with them in mind, and that’s why they don’t get it. I will begrudge them that. As one of “them,” I am not a romantic teen girl or a woman who dreams of a prince who sees her beauty despite social convention. But, I’m also not a hobbit. I’m not a young wizard who goes to an exclusive school of magic, I wasn’t bitten by a radioactive spider, and I’m not Kryptonian. Yet, I can relate to those characters, believe their stories, and be moved to tears of concern for them, regardless of my age, gender, how real it looks, how beautiful the colors are, how gorgeous the cast is, in 3D, or not.

But, I do like the wolves.

Myoho-Renge-Kyo.

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Battle Scars (2011) #6

Word on the net is Marvel has found a way to bring black Nick Fury in to their main universe via their Battle Scars mini, and its protagonist Marcus Johnson. Bleeding Cool was the first to speculate this was so and recent events lead to Marc being the illegitimate, interracial son of Nicholas Fury of the Howling Commandos, Agent, and former head of S.H.I.E.L.D. Marcus even has his eye taken out! What are the odds?

Okay, here’s where I start asking the question, “WHY?”

What stories can you tell with a black Fury that you can’t tell with the original, trademarked character Marvel’s had since 1963? (Oops! I originally thought the date was 1959 – my bad.)

 And, here’s where a lot of people ask me, “WHY NOT?”

Why not? Because it’s cheap; isn’t that enough?

It’s the publishing equivalent of saying, “I’m not a racist. I have black friends.  I work with black people.”

It’s treating a minority like a commodity. That means, as soon as the profits drop, things go back to the way they were.

But, most important, I quote the words of Malcolm X…

“Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you’re a man, you take it.” – Malcolm X, Malcolm X Speaks (p.111) 1965

Comic books fans are not going to find racial equality, equal representation, in comics until enough creators establish its value using art, not capitalism. Until then, taking handouts from publishers like Marvel and DC isn’t solving the problem because, just as easily as characters die and come back in comics, they can change color too.

“You can’t have capitalism without racism.” – Malcolm X, Malcolm X Speaks 1965

Myoho-Renge-Kyo.

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Hunter_S__Thompson___Paranoia_by_gonzonl

“The greatest mistake you can make is to say that your work is better than a lot of the shit that’s out there. No doubt. But being better than shit is not exactly a shining credential.” Dave Sim, “Cerebus Guide To Self-Publishing “(1997) (p. 30)

“Kids, the fiction is the truth inside the lie, and the truth of this fiction is simple enough: the magic exists.” Stephen King “IT” (1985)

Two

The second part of “Fear & Loathing and Comic Books” is overdue, but the distance was necessary. Writing part one, I really looked into my views on comic books because I was starting to question if I like them at all. The result of my sabbatical was my learning how much I do love them, perhaps too much, and wonder if that’s what gets me into trouble.

I wrote how comics were never taken seriously by anyone, but the fans, and how things have changed. Now, comics are not taken seriously by anyone, and those that do are looked at like recluses, or disgruntled freaks.

The veterans of a long forgotten war to legitimize comic books are scoffed at now. We’re made fun of by youngsters who know nothing that came before Marvel’s Ultimate Comics. We’re the “look at him” person they snicker our exit rings the “there’s a customer” bell. We’re the one who dumbfounds people with information about character continuity that stretches ten years, or more, when asked “What’s happening with Spider-Man?”

We’re weird because we care too much, and we care because half of our lives and thousands of dollars were spent connecting with something, an ideal, of how the world and people could be if they tried to be humane; that men and women could turn tragedy to triumph, and evil need not go unopposed.

We bought into the notion that a nerd boy could become the savior of New York City, and despite the deaths of love ones, find love himself (with a super model). These stories of the absurd forged the beginnings of real life heroes; men and women who would grow to become police officers, firemen (and women), doctors, lawyers, or just good, honest mothers and fathers who don’t bail on their children.

Those old geeks, what that word was derogatory, fought a war to legitimize comic books because they were no different than the great works of literature that taught the same lessons – Le Morte d’Arthur, The Count of Monte Cristo, Robin Hood, even the Bible. We spent years crying, yelling, getting into debates with teachers, professors, bullies, even friends. We fought our parents and dug in dumpsters when they threw our comic books out, declaring them “nothing, but trash.” I guarantee you, somewhere there is a man or woman that has not spoken to his parents for years because they threw away his or her comic book collection.

Fast forward a decade or two later, and what did we fight for? Avengers Disassembled? X-men: Schism? It looks like comics have become the equivalent of reality television; what crazy thing can the publishers do next, and how many people will still buy it (+ sales tax). Suddenly, and without a memo, we’re not to look for deeper meaning in comic book anymore. Comic books are entertainment – no more or less.

But I still love comics. Despite watching them fall into hedonism, I still love comics. I love them like a father who watches his child succumb to teen pressure, drugs, premarital sex and pregnancy. I love them like parents whose daughter one day tells them she’s gay, and they act like they’ve always known because the loss of a “normal life” is better than losing a child’s love. I love comics like the wife who stays with her husband, no matter how many times he cheats, drinks, or hits her, because she knows “deep down, he’s a good man.” I love comics like a priest who knows he has no business around children, but God’s will be done. I love comics because I’ve loved them too long not to.

How can I not love comics when so many things I wished for as a child are happening – movies, television, video games, toys, and attractive, physically fit, big busted females in comic book super hero cosplay. It’s too hard being angry at comics now, and it only makes me look like a hypocrite when I watch The Avengers or Amazing Spider-Man movie trailer for the 19^th time. It doesn’t matter that they’re not “my Avengers” anymore, all that matters is I lived long enough to see it happen, comic book superheroes on the big screen, followed by LED in 1080p Blu-ray to enjoy over and over again.

I remember when super heroes were hard to come by, now they’re everywhere. So many to choose from, it no longer matters what DC or Marvel does anymore. Can’t find a comic that’s you like right now? Then play Cole MacGrath in inFamous, watch Person of Interest for a Batman meets The Shadow fix, watch Star Wars: Clone Wars, Young Justice, Ben 10, or Generator Rex. And, if that’s not enough, create your own heroes (and villains) in the DC Universe Online. Or, if you actually want to read something, you can go backwards, find a comic book you overlooked. I recently bought a copy of Green Arrow: Year One by Andy Diggle and Jock from 2007 and it’s the best comic I’ve read in a long time, just took me five years to get so bored I’d try a Green Arrow book.

I always refer to comic book fans as “junkies,” but I’m no different. I just hide my addiction a bit better; the bartender who doesn’t drink at work, or the cocaine dealer who prefers heroine. I’m an addict too, searching for that virgin high. I’m sure that has something to do with my chosen profession. Masturbation done comic book style; if you can’t get what you want from others, get it yourself.

That’s the “deep down” about comics, and that’s why I still love them, because anyone can make them. NO matter how hard it is to do it now compared to ten years ago, it’s still true – ANYONE CAN CREATE AND PUBLISH THEIR OWN COMIC BOOK.

Maybe the war wasn’t about legitimacy, but being free to choose. To choose what we liked; what we want to read and believe in. It could be an invisible man who magically had a son who sacrificed himself for us, or an alien who landed in the middle of Kansas with the powers of a god, but choose to wear blue pajamas, save kittens, and live as an accident prone journalist.

That freedom means you gotta love it all, good and bad. You can’t have one without the other. You wouldn’t have the New DC 52 without the new Marvel, and you’re not getting the new Superman and Action Comics without having suffered through WB/CW’s Smallville.

The war is over, and we vets have to deal with coming home, and things have changed. The world is different. The girl we loved married the guy we hate, and they have children we wish were ours. We can be angry, or find a life for ourselves; get married, have kids of our own, have family get-togethers with our ex and her new hubby, become best friends, laugh over old times, rediscover how much we love each other and have an affair that destroys both lives.

I think that’s a New Avengers storyline.

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I miss you H.S.T. – I never would have known you if not for comic books.

ONE

I was driving north on the 15 freeway when reflection took hold…

I was on my way to work – you know, my real job, the one that actually pays – when my iPhone blew up. My webmaster was texting me, frantic about a response I received from Paul Allen to my last blog.

Paul was gracious to respond to a previous post regarding my take on Ultimate Spider-Man #1 (vol. 2). That time, as with this one, my webmaster had hit me up insisting I respond to Paul’s comment. I didn’t want to. And, as always, if I don’t want to do something a) my brain shuts down so I can’t think of how to go about doing whatever I’m trying to do, resulting in my b) being blatantly honest in order to get the job done fast, end my discomfort, and possibly diffuse (almost always negative) ramifications from said honesty. As expected, action begs reaction that begs more reaction, and…

“You got owned on your own website!”  My bluetooth shouted.

“What?” – I was doing 80 while merging from right to left between big rigs in rush traffic when my webmaster decided to answer his phone. I keep my bluetooth volume amped in case of bad connections and it picks just the best moments to come in loud and clear.

“What was that?” I repeated.

“Paul Allen wrote back, man.”

“Okay,” I said “And…?”

“He basically called you a cranky old man.”

“Not bad. I expected worse,” and I was really surprised. I wasn’t waiting for a response, but after implying a general “someone” getting a figurative mouth full and swallowing, you expect something more than “cranky old man” as a retort. “Read me what he wrote.”

“Okay, verbatim: ‘To me it’s not about changing anyone’s mind, but presenting an alternate / unconsidered viewpoint and trying to clarify yours for myself. But since you’re obviously cranky about this (and a lot of things!), I won’t bother going any further.’ Dude, don’t get owned on your own website,” my webmaster said.

Real or imagined, I could feel being edged on to do something about this even though I couldn’t give a damn. Responding when I didn’t feel a need got me into this mess to start with, now I could feel the nudging against my back and taunts by schoolyard instigators pushing me into action. But as I thought about Paul’s remark, I settled into the fact that he’s right. I am cranky. I am a cranky old man. Really, I’m more than cranky, I’m just plain mad at comics.

Why shouldn’t I be, when comics have turned into the street whore of reading, all bright and flashy, peddling empty promises, making sure they get the money first and finish quickly; a whore bath and perfume spritz later, it’s back on the streets.

Why shouldn’t I be pissed when what used to cost 75 cents is now $3.99 hard or soft, taxed, but less enjoyable?

Paul speculated my comments from last week imply I want fewer “characters of color” in comics, and maybe I do. Why would I want them associated with comic books – an industry that perpetuates its readers believing they can’t relate to heroic people of color, responsible married men, or females who don’t look like porn stars, models, and playmates? Better minorities further their social acceptance in the real world, where it matters.

I’m mad about comics and why is that bad. Being angry brings change, and after a quarter century of reading comics, I’m used to being outcast. I’m an outsider amongst social outsiders on the low rung of pop culture. I don’t like Marvel over DC; I think Bendis was better as an independent; and “The Big Bang Theory” is Chuck Lorre putting a carnival geek show on television.  But, dammit, I’m starting to like that fucking show – Sheldon is funny as shit!

I’m calm in my anger, righteous, because I know when I come from as a comic book fan, where comic books were headed, somewhere so much more, real, and fulfilling than where they are now. Comics were seduced by money and manipulated into the “oldest profession.”

Twenty-four years ago I read Watchmen, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns and saw the light at the end of the tunnel when comics and comic book fans were victims of constant ridicule.

I discovered comics through book and grocery store spin racks. I bought Marvel from two different convenient stores, read Golden Age DC handed down by my older half-brother’s mother, and stole from libraries and the waiting room when visiting the doctor. I traded comics with friends for the experience of reading, not hording for profit. I held on to issues because I loved the story, not monetary value. I loved comics for the same reason I loved The Hobbit or those Choose Your Own Adventure books you bought from the book sales at school. No bags or boards because they were rolled up in my back pocket, the cover fallen off from multiple readings. No matter how much enjoyment was had from every issue, it was marred by judgment that grew worse as I aged.

Comic book readers were more openly punished for our reading choices in those days. Comics were confiscated by school teachers and principals as “inappropriate” and “immature.” Comics were not literature, and graphic novels took everyone not in the scene by surprise – “Egad, man, funny strips that look like books?!”

“Comics aren’t books,” were the constant remarks from the literate, while the non-reading “cool people” just thought we were weird, not just for reading, but reading about superheroes. It was synonymous with buying toys and watching cartoons beyond the age of 16.  Things were bad back then, but in the secret places comic book readers gathered, there was a movement brewing. It was based on the dream comic books will be recognized as parable and literature, on the same level as Shakespeare and Dickens. No longer would we be scrutinized and shunned by our English teachers. That was the dream.

And I was lucky enough to see the beginning of that dream becoming a reality with Neil Gaimen’s Sandman, James O’Barr’s The Crow, and Quinn/Vigil’s Faust: Love of the Damned. These books transcended the direct market, more commonly found on the shelves at underground music stores. The books themselves were infectious. When I read them in public, instead of scorn, there was interest and excitement. Who knew comics could be that adult, sexy, violent, poetic, and rhythmic? We, the fans, knew, and when you removed the capes, cowls, and tights, other people saw it too.

Sure it was cheap how the books won people over. How could Goths not like Gaimen’s dream god and his sister, Death, when they looked like The Cure? O’Barr quoted Iggy Pop and The Doors while David Quinn and Tim Vigil’s Faust applied the limitless possibility of comics to graphic sex and violence providing sublime masturbating material. My favorite issue of Faust has the villain’s psychopathic girlfriend,  Jade – a hot, psychotic black haired hardbody Courtney Love lookalike – fucking a pommel horse topped with a dildo, tastefully drawn by Tim Vigil.

Then Image, Youngblood, and the Rob Liefeld 501 commercial, DC Vertigo, Rebel Studios, Chaos! Comics, Evil Ernie, the death of Brandon Lee (RIP), and “The Crow” movie – people started talking about comics, or being intrigued anyway. Comics became artistic. They were underground punk, gothic cool, misunderstood hip.

And then the speculation market ended…

TO BE CONTINUED

Myoho-Renge-Kyo.

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The new issue of Ultimate Spider-Man featuring Miles Morales, the new black – sorry, Puerto Rican – Spider-Man, hit the stores yesterday and the reviews have been good. David Pepose, a Newsarama contributor, wrote: “Where do I begin? Well, the biggest victory that Bendis scores with Miles Morales is that he makes us care about him, and care about him quickly.”

Uh, no he doesn’t.

Joseph’s Snap Review: It’s more of the same post Cosby Show bullshit in comics.

Miles Morales is a good (or so it’s implied) inner city kid who wins a lottery to attend a charter school. We don’t know anything about his parents, who look okay, but just them being together is something different when 54% percent of African Americans between the ages of 24 and 34 haven’t married (Karen Peterson, USA TODAY, 2000). The uncle is a crook, of course, but not a common one, as he was able to loot the ruins of Norman Osborn’s lab, where one of the same mutated spiders that bit Peter Parker climbs into his bag to and bites Miles later on.

I ran into the problem I always have with stories trying too hard to be non-stereotypical, they’re stereotypical. If the NAACP announced to combat the stereotype “all black people eat watermelon” African Americans are now eating mango, overtime, the stereotype would then become “all black people eat mango.”

 It was the same thing I saw going to private Catholic high school; the more parents sent their bad kids there, thinking it would change them, the worse the school became. While the public school, by comparison, became less unruly and produced better students. Fast forward twenty years, the “prestigious high school” is in the shitter while the public schools are winning awards.

I keep seeing this scenario play out and I see it again here. The more you try to diversify, the more you end becoming “One of Us.”

I saw the same with Milestone Comics. I even had an internet back & forth with creator Dwayne McDuffie in a forum when wrote how I thought, not all, but some titles, specifically “Icon” were derivative. It sucks that my only real communication with him was negative. More weird is I had the honor or meeting him in person for five seconds in 2009 at the San Diego convention. Not knowing who he was, and he not knowing who I was, he walked by my table; I saw him as a customer and I pitched him Lazarus. He said, “That’s a good television pitch.” And I walked away happy because I suck at pitches.

Despite feeling a loss from his passing (RIP), I still hold to my thought s on Milestone, and books that follow that model, trying so hard not to be stereotypes and landing in the same hole. This is not 1974; the Evans Family from “Good Times” is no longer the only black ethnic stereotype. Thanks to Bill Cosby and the success of the” Cosby Show” (circa 1984, because there were two) the “intelligent middle class black family” is also a stereotype.

But how do you fight it? I have the weird idea the only way to combat this is the same that got us into it, do the opposite of what’s expected. If there was once a time when black people in comics were always crooks with a heart of gold, then it changes so they’re all law abiding college grads who become scientists, then go back to the crooks with the heart of gold scenario.

Why does Miles Morales have to be a decent kid with decent folks who goes to a decent school? Wasn’t that Peter Parker, minus the parents? So, your answer to killing Peter Parker is the switch him with a brown skinned version? Oh, and don’t get me started on the first five (5) pages where Osborn talks to a new up & coming scientist who just happens to be black. At first I thought it was Miles’ dad, so it was relevant; dad works from Osborn, brings home mutated spider, spider bites son, new Spider-Man is born. Thanks to the incredibly detailed art of Sara Pichelli, you can see it’s not Miles’ dad, so then you’re just asking yourself why the blatant placement.

Here’s when I show how weird I am by stating I think it more interesting if the new Spider-Man was a crap student and juvenile delinquent whose divorced parents, partly to blame for his behavior, put him in the same school as Parker, while his father and uncle, a breaking and entering duo, jack Oscorp. The spider crawls into the bag, the father visits the son on a non-visitation day, and the son gets bit by the spider.

Do you care about the boy? Fuck no and that’s what’s different. If anything, the boy pisses you off for the first few issues because it’s the reverse power fantasy, the school tool, instead of the loser, gets the power. If anything he’s more like us because if we had powers we’d take advantage and be too selfish to see the connection when our “Uncle Ben” got hurt because of it.

Now, think how much more interesting it’ll be to watch this kid, the delinquent, become a hero, see the connections, and learn “with great power comes great responsibility.” Instead of Peter’s inaction causing someone’s death, make our new Spider-Man’s actions do the deed. Add to it Peter’s friends going to school with the new Spider, trying to find out his identity, not even suspecting the school asshole. Then have MJ or Gwen learn the truth and a relationship starts – hate downgrades to dislike, then comes to grips with understanding, turns to admiration and friendship that becomes attraction and love. The difference between Peter and Miles – the delinquent, street smart kid can handle his shit a whole lot better.

The lesson here is nothing in Hollywood ever changes. Life changes, and our stories may look like they change, but they don’t. Joseph Campbell taught there were only so many stories to tell. No matter how different one may seem, it’s only a variant. Sadly, color, gender, orientation may change, but that’s just dressing. The characters remain the same, especially when it’s an IP that needs protecting.

Open your eyes comic book readers. Wednesday is Ground Hog Day, and it’s getting more expensive. Don’t buy the bull.

Here ended the lesson.

Myoho-Renge-Kyo.

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Of course you don’t.

Because, odds are, you don’t care. But, there are a lot of people out there, who don’t work in the industry, who do care. They’ve collected comic books for years and don’t know what they would do if that were to stop, not suddenly, just forever.

The state of comic books is this…

I have two kids; one is eleven, the other is six. They love superheroes. They watch the old eps of Justice League Unlimited. They love Avatar: The Last Airbender. They love any Spider-Man cartoon I show them. And, they become incredibly focused whenever anything related to Batman, live action of cartoon, is on. The Incredible is their favorite Pixar movie. They both have characters on DC Universe Online. My kids love superheroes.

My kids will not read comic books. And that, my friends, is the sad state of comic books today.

I have an entire room, an office of sorts, but more of a library, filled with comic books, graphic novels, manga, and art books. My kids flip through the art books, actually read the manga, but don’t touch the comics.

One day, I took ten comic books, a mix of their favorite characters, and presented them to my kids in an effort to a) get them reading while school was out for summer, and b) lead into a family trip, exploring our local for comic book stores in the area (we moved from LA to IE where there are practically no comic book stores), and hopeful turn DC’s new relaunch into a family event. My eleven-year-old gave it five minutes of attention before being pulled elsewhere. My six-year-old is too young to know the importance of humoring your parents and ignored them immediately, begging for the Nintendo DS. This continued for twenty minutes, with me resorting to bribery to get them to read comics for a week, earn points, and collect rewards at the end of a week. Nothing; they were not interested.

I see comic books and cigarettes in the same conundrum; their customers, the people who’ve bought their products for years, can’t live without them, are dying off and there’s little to no new interest.  Difference is, smoking is more versatile. Smoking can help you lose weight. Smoking can relax you, or help keep you warm on a cold night. Smoking is a social tool that draws people to you or allows you to fit in easier. And, while some of these things are also true about comic books, it’s not significant enough to matter. You can’t go to a party, know no one, pull out a copy of Superman, say, “I’m going outside for a read,” and have two or three people follow you. People still smoke on television. People smoke in movies. They smoke in video games, cartoons, manga, novels, and in comic books. Hell, I started smoking (again) thanks to the British comic book invasion of the 90’s. Comic books don’t have that kind of exposure. They’re not converting anyone.

My kids are more likely to be smokers than comic book readers!

So, the current consumer base for comic books is dying off, literally, with little to no newcomers running into stores. Not after the latest comic book movie. Not after the new cartoon series premiers.  No one wants to read comics books.

Perhaps all the exposure comic books have now has worked against it? Why read Captain America when you can play the game? Why read Spider-Man when you can watch the animated series and feature film. Hell, there are people who separate a character, its media variations, and choose which they prefer. I knew a fella who loved Superman, but only the movies, and only the Christopher Reeve movies. He didn’t read the comics, didn’t have any interest in the television shows or cartoons, just the Christopher Reeves movies.

I sometimes think the state of comics was better when superheroes were harder to find. There was a time, twenty – thirty years ago, when the only comic book related thing on television was “Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends.” I remember being a kid and riding my bike a mile to the nearest liquor store to buy my copies of the “Longshot” mini-series, my first exposure to Art Adams. And, the convenient store across the street from that, sold the Uncanny X-Men and X-Factor. When my friends saw where and how far I was riding, they wanted to know where I was going and why. They tagged along, and we all started reading comics and trading with one another. As a teen, I still had to ride my bike an hour from my house to buy from the sports card shop; I bought my first copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles there. Comic books were harder to get, you saw them less, and when you pulled one out people took interest. No one gives a shit now. Not even kids… Kids?! Instead, we have grown men and women reading stories meant for kids, that kids won’t read, about men and women in capes, tights, fighting villains in clown make-up, and this is what they do after work when their kids are at home.

You know, I used to like going to nude bars, until I realized nine out of ten strippers think the men that go there are losers too stupid not to hand over their hard earned money for just a look at a woman’s body. I saw how pathetic I was, and how bitchy the women were, but mostly I gained more respect for the money I made and decided not to just give it away. Funny thing is I started seeing comic books the same way.

Cigarette smokers get cancer and die, or realize their lives are in danger and stop.

Comic book readers do the same; we die, or come to our senses…

Man, do I want a cigarette.

Myoho-Renge-Kyo.

JPG.