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Many, it would seem, believe him to have had a a great influence upon the world of comics. I disagree. By all accounts the man merely mooched upon the skills of his collaborators. Men such as Steve Ditko and Jack Kirby.
I know that many of you will call me a fool or a blasphemer. I don't particularly care what you Marvel zombies may thing of me. My point is proved by the power of science. Logic vindicates me.
Consider: most -- if not all -- of Stan Lee's creations for Marvel comics were created with the aid of collaborators. They have been largely successful. But what about the creations that he created without the help of collaborators? How successful have they been? Where is the massive popularity of Striperella? How many people are lining up to see the Governator?
Even if you claim that Stan Lee was responsible for the success of his Marvel creations then you must admit that the man has list whatever mythical "touch" he may have had. He is now little more than a joke. And so I laugh derisively at him.
Such is the way of super-villainy. And besides, he ripped me off when he created Magneto...
Now, do not take that the wrong way. I have neither attended nor do I intend to attend a performance of the Spider-Man Musical. No, the theater of which I speak is the theater of the plummeting disaster that is multi-million dollar excuse for art.
It should come as no surprise that I often take delight in the suffering of others. After all, before my semi-forced retirement I was an active super-villain. Super-villainy is not something you simply give up. It stays with you, like being a doctor. Which I also am.
But I digress. I have eagerly watched as the house of cards that is "Turn Off the Dark" collapsed in the stiff breeze that is reality. There is no greater pleasure for one such as myself than watching the work of conceited directors and self-important rock stars fail -- and fail spectacularly.
There is also the additional joy that is the Marvel connection. I have always despised Marvel and its pathetic attempts at villainy. There is little to be impressed with there; Marvel's villains don't seem particularly bright. I have often wondered why those excuses for "super-villains" do not simply move. After all, nearly every single one of Marvel's "heroes" are in New York).
Again I find myself drifting off-topic. My point is this: I do not like Spider-Man and am glad to see him fail. And not in a "hero" versus "villain" kind of way. Spider-Man is beneath my notice. He would not make a worthy adversary, even compared to Hal Jordan. I am simply pleased by the sheer entertainment value of seeing people I hate suffer thanks to their own hubris. Truly, are there any finer things in life?
The guys in the comic book store today asked me if I was "excited to find out who dies." I just sort of looked at them then replied "have you seen my pull list?"
Unsurprisingly I don't care about which member of the Fantastic Four has or hasn't kicked the bucket. But then, I rarely care when a DC character dies either. Usually it isn't someone I care about, and if it is -- like say Batman -- I still can't muster up outrage/sorrow/interest.
I know this topic has been overdone (I almost said "done to death") but I it bears repeating again. Despite what the mainstream media seems to think whenever a comic book character dies, death in super-hero comics is not news. Death is simply another storytelling tool in this genre.
Now, we could argue on an on whether or not it's crass or clever or whatever. But the fact of the matter is that "death" is in the super-hero writer's toolbox. It's not going away and that's fine. And generally I think they use it sparingly enough for it not to get too crazy.
Still, at some point writers need to ask themselves if a major death is really the most effective tool for whatever story they want to write. There are so many tools that nobody uses any more. Just look at the Silver Age... Inter-dimensional criminals, alternate future doppelgangers, super-pets... It's a wide world out there.
The Comics Code is dead.
In ancient days the Comics Code almost killed comic books. But it seems that in the the end comic books have emerged from the dust as the victor.
The comics code has been pretty toothless and irrelevant since 2001, when Marvel decided to stop putting it on their books. But it carried on -- albeit in a limited form -- as long as DC (and to a lesser extent Archie) continued to use it.
Earlier this week DC announced that they would stop putting the stamp on their comics. Archie followed suit today. DC is instituting its own ratings system and Archie never really needed such a system in the first place.
What does this all mean? Honestly not a whole lot. In all honesty, the death of the Comics Code will make it easier for people to decide what comics to pick up from a company like DC. The Code had become so toothless and nebulous that there was no way to really tell what its being on the cover boded for the inside of the book.
Still, finding the Comics Code stamp on the cover of your comics was an iconic part of reading for around fifty years. Heck, there have even been Comic Code t-shirts. But in the long run, I'm not sure many of us will miss it. Or even notice that it's gone.
Okay, this is going to be one of those days where I directly address the "distinguished competition." Now, I obviously don't work for DC Comics. But that's pretty much all I read (at least in super-hero comics) and Marvel's stable of characters has never "clicked" with me.
Plus, I've always had a problem with the way some people at Marvel present themselves. There have always been the backhanded compliments and the snide remarks. By and large DC seems to have avoided this kind of stuff (but they are by no means immune). Marvel, however, seems to love taking potshots at DC. A popular one in the past has been to claim DC is somehow purely "corporate comics" that are solely beholden to their nefarious overlords at Warner Bros.
I had hoped after Marvel was bought by Disney that that crap would come to an end. I mean, it's not like Marvel wasn't "corporate" comics before. A huge amount of their output was geared towards supporting their burgeoning film properties. Which is perfectly fine.
But this kind of crap really should have stopped after Disney bought Marvel. But it looks like it hasn't. Tom Brevoort, a newly minted Senior VP at Marvel was asked what he thought about DC's "Hold the Line at $2.99" initiative. He had this to say:
"I think that if it works for them, and they can run their business and make their money on that cover price, good for them. But I know for certain that we can’t, so I must assume that they’re still in the traditional DC position of not really having to earn a direct profit in publishing, since they’ll get a credit for all of their licensing and so forth on the Warner’s ledgers. That’s not a luxury that we have–or really, that we want."
Unsurprisingly there's another backhanded compliment in there and a snide remark directed toward DC's corporate masters. But then he goes on to insinuate that DC not having to make profits -- an assertion of which he has no proof -- means that they aren't putting out comics that people want to read.
Does Brevoort really think we're buying this? Does he think we've forgotten that Marvel was recently bought up by one of the biggest entertainment giants in the world? And that his publishing company isn't just as much a cog in the machine as DC has ever been?
I think DC's attempt to keep the prices of its comics down is a good thing. Remember, we're losing two pages of story to that price line (which is not necessarily a good trend). As far as I can tell, this isn't simply a case of the company being able to keep around comics nobody reads (if that were so, they wouldn't have canceled Azrael!) but really a case where they've tried to listen to what the fans and retailers want.
But what do I know? I'm an optimist like Superman. And as we know, there is little room for those in the Marvel Universe.
You disparage the writings of comic bloggers as "knee-jerk reviews and cut and paste blogging." Never once have I cut or pasted a large block of text. My opinions on the news and comics of my day are mine alone. Such opinions are powerful enough to stand apart; they serve as a shining example for others.
I have no need for "knee-jerk" reviews. If I believe something to be unworthy of my attention I will dismiss it -- it need not be mentioned at all. And if I consider a work to be a masterpiece I will say so. When I do, I shall express myself eloquently and at length. With correct capitalization and punctuation. Unlike some popular Marvel writers I might mention.
I am not alone in this. Recently the great and powerful Scipio has returned to blogging at his bastion The Absorbascon. He is intelligent and articulate, informing and enlightening us on comics, their history, and the very nature of the medium. Without much thought I could name many others who would put your ill-supported claims to shame.
And know this, Bendis: never once have I demanded payment for my services. Years of efficient bank robbery and extortion have left me comfortably well off. No, I write purely for the joy of it. And the chance to prove fools like you wrong.
Imagine my surprise when she chose Iron Man 2. I knew it to be an adaptation of some sort of Marvel drivel. I had not seen Iron Man 1. But I assented to her choice.
Overall, I was pleasantly surprised. There was a fine quantity of action and some degree of "shenanigans" on the part of one Tony Stark. The special effects were quite good and I did enjoy the pleasing "clang" sound that Mr. Stark's head made every time it hit something. It reminded me of the skull of one Hal Jordan.
I was, however, disappointed in the villain. He seemed a bit petty and foolish. Why did he not simply use his awesome magnetic powers to crush the "Iron Man" like a bug? Why did he insist on going through a complicated, unnecessary plan to get reven...
Ah, I see that I have answered my own question. Complicated, unnecessary plans for revenge justify their own existence. Still, Russians as villains are passé...
Apparently some word has started to spill about the possible Christopher Nolan produced Superman movie. The most interesting news to me is the clear demarcation between the Superman and Batman universes.
Personally, I don't know if that's all that good of an idea. Though I agree that they should definitely have their own universes, I'm not convinced that they should totally rule out a possible crossover.
One of the strengths of the recent spate of Marvel films has been the interconnectedness of them. It's not overt, but it is there. They may never get around to making that rumored Avengers film. But they've left to the door open for it to be possible.
By the same token they need to leave that door open for a possible Justice League film. Though it may never see the light of day, we need the hope that it could. Super-heroes are about hope after all...
I had a very awkward encounter yesterday.
It happened while I was walking to class in the morning. This is usually uneventful, and I'd say that yesterday more or less follows along with that. It's important as well for you to know how I dressed. As is occasionally the case, my clothes were largely comic inspired. I was wearing my Flash t-shirt and my Superman stocking cap. So I was rocking it DC hard.
As I walked I noticed another fellow coming at me from the opposite direction. He was also dressed in comic attire, namely and Avengers hooded sweatshirt. Now, this presented a conundrum. Obviously the pair of us were kindred spirits of a sort. After all, he was dressed in comic attire and he most certainly was not you typical average non-comic reading person who sometimes wears a Batman or Spider-Man shirt.
But as already mentioned, he was wearing a Marvel shirt. It would be like a Cubs fan and Cardinals fan passing each other on the street (actually, that's happened to me before too). We sort of glanced at each other but didn't say anything. We both seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact. It was obvious that something tied us together. But as much as that might have sparked a friendship there was something else -- something even more important -- that kept us a part.
We passed each other and I imagine I will never see that fellow again. What a weird experience.
I noticed something today when I was picking up my comics at the local shop. Take note of this Spider-Man cover:
You'd think a guy would plan for that occurrence. But no, Peter Parker constantly has to be pulling up his mask for smooching. You know who doesn't have this problem? This guy:
I'm a bit concerned about what's going on with the whole "New Krypton" thing. Specifically, I'm worried that it's becoming a bit too Marvellike.
In what way, you ask? Well, my biggest concern comes from how the "average" person on the street seems to be reacting to this whole thing. They're starting to get a wee bit too close to the way Marvel civilians react to superheroes. By that, I mean they're being easily fooled and stupid.
Now, to be fair the people trying to trick them are a lot more powerful and intelligent than any of the so-called masterminds of the Marvel Universe. And I can understand people being wary of Supergirl, considering that she's done a whole heap of stupid things up to and including recently.
But I never thought I'd see the day that the people of Metropolis lost their faith in Superman. Sure, we've seen similar stories where something like that happens. But never to this degree. People believe in Superman. They always have. And I thought they always would.
In all honesty, I have very little of interest to say about the acquisition of Marvel by Disney. Since I don't read anything Marvel produces and have very little interest in their movies or other properties.
That said, I hope this will finally put to rest the tired old canard trotted out by some Marvel zombies that Marvel is somehow more "pure" than DC because it isn't (or rather wasn't) owned by a bigger corporation.
Of course, they'll probably find a way anyway..
From time to time I check the statistics for this blog. I find it interesting, especially the search terms that end up directing people to the various pages in my archives.
Not surprisingly, I sometimes find that people looking for one thing end up finding another. For example, I'm always getting hits from people searching for information on Prometheus, the character out of myth. I'd love to see the look on their faces when they find an in depth history of Prometheus, the JLA villain.
But then, sometimes the searchers get exactly what they're looking for. Right now a significant plurality of searches that lead to my blog are "I hate Wolverine."
I imagine they'll be pleasantly surprised...
Some of the people at Marvel -- guys like Joe Quesada -- like to talk big. They love to go on and on about how much better they are compared to DC. They like to talk things like "Marvel is more realistic." They'll often cite things like Marvel comics taking place in "real" cities and how the president in the Marvel U is always the "real" president as opposed to whatever pitiful fake president they think DC is using.
Here today I call them hypocrites. They don't get to claim that their comic universe is more realistic and a reflection of the real world when they make J. Jonah Jameson mayor of New York. That would be the height of hypocrisy.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that this move is a bad idea. I'm sure that it will open up many interesting story possibilities. In much the same way that a fictional president might. Or a fictional city for a hero to call their own. But you are not allowed to bash your competition for such things and then turn around and do it yourself.
You can't have your cake and eat it too. You have to pick one or the other. Either you're the "realistic counterpoint to your fantasy rivals" or you're "just as fantasy as your fantasy rivals."
Not that it really matters to me. I'm sticking with the non-watered down original version full of capes and fictionopolises anyway...
This won't win me any fans, but I've got to say that I still can't stand Spider-Man. I mean, look at this guy:
I see the face of Peter Parker and I want to kick him in the shins. It rubs me the wrong way, every time I see it. And it's not just that, either. It's everything about the character. I just can't stand Spider-Man. I loathe him with an intensity far beyond the rational.
I'm going to go throw up now.
I have a bone to pick with "geek icon" Joss Whedon. I read this article where Mr. Whedon talks about why he thinks that DC hasn't been more succesful at getting their characters to the screen. And I have to say that he's dead wrong.
He claims that the reason the characters aren't making it to the big screen is because they're "gods" and not "real people." Whedon doesn't know what he's talking about. The fact that the dials go up to eleven in the DCU is irrelevant. The main reason why DC characters have hit so many roadblocks on their way to the big screen is simple: DC Comics has no control over DC movies. Marvel has near complete control over their movie properties. DC Comics has none.
But that's all a story for another day. This isn't about Joss Whedon's mischaracterization or misunderstanding of DC's characters. I want to talk about this little snippet:
" Their characters didn't living (sic) in mythical cities, they lived in New York. They absolutely were a part of the world."This really burns me up. I hate it when Marvel people declare that somehow Marvel is more "realistic" because it's set in the "real" universe.
Marvel comics isn't set in the real universe. It's not even set in a universe. It's set in New York. Spider-Man lives in New York. Daredevil lives in New York. The Avengers are based out of New York and I'm pretty sure Tony Stark was from New York. I know Captain America grew up in New York.
My point is that almost every character is built up around a single city. It's a real city, sure. But you know what? It's no more real to me than Metropolis or Gotham. I've never been to New York City. But I've been to Chicago. And with DC I can imagine that Gotham is like Chicago. And thus it becomes more real to me than Marvel's New York has ever been.
The other glorious thing about DC's fictionopolises is this: they allow the universe to breathe. There is an individuality that reflects their heroes that you can't get from sticking the hero in New York. Look at James Robinson's Starman. It is widely considered a masterpiece. Would the comic have worked it if had been set in New York City? Or Los Angeles? Or Seattle?
Can you imagine a world where Batman fights crime in Central Park or a Metropolis without that beautiful Daily Planet planet? These cities are individuals like the characters that live in them. These cities aren't simply landscape. And they are not handicaps for DC; they are among their comics' greatest strengths.
Joss Whedon may be a popular guy, but it's clear that he doesn't really get DC comics. And I guess that's okay. But whatever he says I would much rather spend my time in the amazing, larger than life cities of the DCU than the real life mundanity of a New York City...
I said a little bit about Final Crisis #7, but I wanted to go a little more in depth on my thoughts about the series as a whole. There were some questions about my declaration that I "liked" issue number seven. Well I did like issue seven. But I also didn't like it.
The final issue had a lot to like. It had President Superman, Wacky Japanese Guy, Aquaman, the Zoo Crew, Flash Facts, and 50 Supermen. Those were the panels that made me smile. But those were just a few pieces of one part of the series. As a whole? Final Crisis was a bit of a mess.
It seemed to have a lot of those Grant Morrison "let's throw crazy shit in and see how people flip out" moments. But by and large, it didn't make a lot of sense. Or it makes sense, but only to the fevered brain of one deranged Scotsman. And that's okay. Those are the kind of stories he wants to write and there is a place for them.
But are those the sorts of stories we need in our big blockbuster crossovers? (if we need big blockbuster crossovers at all!) As much as I am loathe to compare my beloved DC to their competition I'm afraid must. Because sometimes you have to give some tough love.
Let's compare some of Marvel and DC's recent crossovers. Now we're not going to compare the minutiae because for these purposes those things aren't important. Civil War may have been a mess as well, but the point I want to make here is about ease of transmission. To the casual reader (if he or she exists), to the lapsed fan, and to the outside world. Consider these sentences:
Civil War tells the story of two factions who fight over the right of the government to regulate super-heroes.
Infinite Crisis tells the story of a number of refugees from a twenty year-old series, two of whom are alternate universe Supermen who along with an alternate universe Lex Luthor decide that our world's heroes are corrupt because they let magic get out of control, chaos erupt on a distant planet, villains unite, and Batman builds a crazy satellite.
You see how complicated that is? I haven't even scratched the surface of Infinite Crisis there. You cannot describe it in one sentence. The title doesn't really mean anything. Civil War -- much to my chagrin -- does a better job of telling you exactly what it is in once sentence. And in a single two word title.
Next up:
Secret Invasion tells the story of a secret invasion of Earth by shapeshifting aliens.
Final Crisis tells the story of a war among the gods which leads to the universe falling apart and... I got nothing. I can't do it. Maybe if I threw in the word "metatextual" it would make sense...
This is the problem with what DC has been doing with its crossovers. They are far to insular. They cannot be understood without being steeped in years of DC history. I won't pretend that I don't like that stuff sometimes. I'm one of a select number (probably including all you reading this) who do know that DC history. But a casual reader couldn't pick up Final Crisis and keep his head on straight. He or she could pick up Secret Invasion and know what it's about simply by reading the cover.
Now, this whole thing has very little bearing on the actual quality of the stories. Final Crisis wasn't my cup of tea, but I thought Infinite Crisis was a rollicking good yarn. And I understand that Civil War was as much of a mess in the eyes of some as Final Crisis turned out to be. But again, you can pick it up and know what it's about by reading the cover.
If DC wants to recover some of that market share that Marvel dominates they need to reevaluate the way they do big crossovers. Maybe Blackest Night is a step in the right direction. After all, "Blackest Night tells the story of dead super-heroes rising from their graves to take revenge upon the living" is both concise and kickass.
