Author: Michael Davis

Michael Davis: Over and Done

back copy

I’m done.

I’m SO done trying to help anyone do anything.

I’m done with the Black Panel, the Bad Boy Studio mentor program, and Dream City my free management company.

Don’t know any of my work? Here.

My disdain started when a rumor damn near became fact. The rumor spreading like a Donald Trump lie was that Milestone stole their business plan from Brotherman. It damn near broke my heart.

But then, the show of support for Milestone was overwhelming!

I could hardly contain my tears of joy so much was the love I felt from the thousands of fans who stood by us. So with all the love shown us why was this the beginning of the end for me?

Because there was no love, the above paragraph was an invention just like the rumor.

Instead of love many, some thought to be friends, jumped on the fairytale co-signing the notion the Milestone partners were thieves. This not too long after Dwayne McDuffie passed away.

One moment the Black comic book community universally saddened over the death of one of the greatest comic book writers there ever was showed the kind of love that inspires books and movies.

The next moment there was universal hatred of Dwayne.

YES, Dwayne!

Didn’t those motherfuckers realize that if you call Milestone thieves you’re saying that of Denys Cowan, Derek Dingle, Christopher Priest, myself AND Dwayne McDuffie?

Yeah, they knew. They didn’t care. Shit, why the fuck should they have? Except for me no one and I mean no one fought those kind of battles. With not one exception no other Milestone partner old or new continually fought the rumors surrounding the company.

I kept Milestone alive in a culture where some are so dense they forget what day we celebrate the Fourth of July. Some may be OK leaving rumor alone to become fact not me. Branding Milestone liars and thieves are NOT the same as some bullshit gerbil stuck in an actor’s ass story.

No one is going deny a big time player a role even if that gerbil story is true, unprovable if it is. If promoting a movie at Comic-Con, no will stand up and ask; “What about the accusations made by three hamsters, a gerbil and Stacy Dash?” Unless said, actor decides to write a tell-all book entitled; It’s My Ass, She’s My Gerbil & I Love Her Up There, it’s safe to bet that won’t define a spectacular career.

But stealing the idea for the greatest African American comic book company? You don’t address that type of shit, and it sticks. Then when Dreamworks is looking for great African-American superhero content they are not looking at Milestone.

Yeah, it’s like that in Hollywood.

So, I made sure any and all bullshit surrounding Milestone was addressed LOUDLY.

Those who doubt that I don’t blame you. But click the link below and scroll down a bit. What are you looking for? Believe me; you will know it when you see it.

FUN FACT: The Brotherman crew got some bad information and some dates wrong. That shit happens to everyone and that includes me. They admitted as such and we’re MORE than cool.

So cool in fact a meeting is planned in the near future. Funny, we talked, we worked it out. Nobody ignored the other. They have treated me with a TON more respect and love than M2.0.

Like I said, funny.

Back to the rant, I’ve gotten no encouragement or support from the community I’ve spent more time creating opportunities for others than myself. Nobody writes me a check for my Bad Boy Studio mentor program or the Black Panel or Dream City, my management company. All of those are set up to provide access to young people of color. I charge nothing; it’s called giving back.

I write the checks to make sure young people of color get the encouragement and support they need. No support from that community was horrible slight and the spark which began this decent.

Being treated by Milestone 2.0 like I had not contributed most of the now superstar talent, oversaw the massive press and groundbreaking convention presence and created the universe of its most successful character, Static, lit the fire.

Being used and then rejected at the lowest point IN MY LIFE without a word as to why beforehand, without a word afterward or (GET THIS) without a fucking word in the almost two years since. Oh, while you’re getting THAT, get THIS, “We’re family. You’re family. We’re going to do great things.” That was said to me in front of my mother’s casket from a member of my “family.”

Then days ago delivered to Bleeding Cool’s Rich Johnson from an unnamed source, (THANK YOU MASKED MAN!) was what some would call the smoking gun.

It’s pretty fucked up.

I’d call it the big bang rather than a smoking gun. So to paraphrase Dr. Dre, FUCK COMICS YOU CAN HAVE IT BACK.

The above (all of it) was an excerpt from the article I was going to run called Michael Davis has left the building.

Then some people showed me a better way so I’m not going to do that.

I’m going to do this…

 

To Be Continued…

Michael Davis: This Is A Job For Superman

Shado 1

I had another piece all ready to go, but I’m just too anal to let stuff run if it bugs me. What I usually do when faced with a decision to let something I don’t feel like running just has a blown deadline.

I’m suffering from severe depression and not giving a hoot is easy when you actually don’t give a hoot.  The truth is I don’t give a hoot if I meet a fucking deadline or finish an article, design a poster, fix a painting, edit a chapter, respond to Comic Con or meet with anybody.

I have no motivation to do anything for myself. Especially when faced with days like this.

Today is the 21st of June, but I’m writing this the night before.

Amazing Spider-Man 101Sorry, Mike.

Two years ago in the early hours before most people go to work I’d just returned from the hospital where I had spent the night at my mother’s bedside. I still have a residence in NYC maybe 10-15 minutes from New York Hospital but was staying at Martha Thomases home which was even closer.

Yes, I loved my mother so much I elected to stay with Martha to be five minutes closer to my mom. The bonus was Martha, who took care of me by staying up watching movies, drinking tequila and talking comics. Not an easy feat as I suffer from chronic insomnia.

Depression and insomnia is a hell of a burden to have to endure, and that’s no way to live I will admit. However, let’s get real. The hardship is sometimes worse on those who are around you. Now throw in migraines and imagine the songs you can come up with.

Depression, insomnia, and migraines, oh my!

Is it any wonder that after enduring six days of sleepless nights with each of those afflictions operating in concert I put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger?

I did, but I missed the deadline.

After a shower that June 21st morning I listened to a message left for me by my mother. She told me she no longer wanted to live, and she didn’t blame me for anything. I must have gotten back to the hospital in less than five minutes.

My mother did not talk like this. Nope. My mom did not give up. This was Jean Harlow Davis, the inspiration for Static’s mom Jean Hawkins. When her mother was killed, she didn’t give up. When her daughter Sharon, the inspiration for Static’s sister, Sharon Hawkins, died she didn’t give up.

Hearing that message, it sounded like she had given up. I knew what I had to do.

This was a job for Superman.

When I was 10-years old, my mother threw out seven golden age comic books that meant everything to me. Sometime later while watching a news report about Superman #1 selling for six figures she asked me why didn’t I have a comic worth that kind of money.

I told her I did, in fact, I had that issue of Superman #1.

I didn’t. She did throw away Superman #2, but that didn’t carry the amount of weight seeing something on TV did.

I was saving the actual story for a moment when I needed her to laugh when I didn’t think anything else would do the trick.

Superman 2…Or…

I was saving it for the one and only gotcha I would ever have on my mother.

I returned to the hospital where my mom looked so peaceful in her sleep. I figured I’d go back to Martha’s grab some sleep myself and bring Superman with me upon my return. What great laugh this would be!

I found out later, the joke was on me. She wasn’t sleeping, she was dead.

Sunday was Father’s day.

I have no idea who my real father was or is. Never met him, never wanted to (unless he was Bill Gates) and couldn’t care what happened to him. My stepfather’s name was Robert Lawrence. I loved that man so much that I changed my name to Lawrence for the Shado series I did with Mike Grell.

Robert was the inspiration for (you guessed it) Robert Hawkins Static’s father.

I loved that man until one day I didn’t. I remembered something so horrible he had done to my mother I cut him out of my life. He died not knowing why I refused to see or talk to him for ten years.

My mother forgave him. I should have forgiven him. I do now, but that will ease none of the pain he must have endured wondering why I had cut him out of my life.

My thoughts of him are no longer dark. Instead, I think about the time he braved a rainstorm to get me a copy of Spider-Man #101. Man, I just had to have that book.

I forgave him the day I realized some people who betrayed me 20 plus years ago were forgiven and in that 20 years, I have done my best to be both a good friend and colleague.

That effort didn’t matter; they betrayed me again.

Earlier I said no motivation was within me to do anything, especially when faced with days like this. That’s very true, but that’s when it comes to me. When it comes to others who have been there for me, that’s another story entirely.

My thanks and love go out to those who pretend it’s easy to deal with the sort of mess I can be. I’m getting better I assure you. There are days that test you, this was one with any luck tomorrow won’t be.

Michael Davis: Shirley Temple & Bruce Lee Take The A Train

Beach 60th Street

I was 16, coming home on the subway from a party in Manhattan. It was 2 or so in the morning, and I was on the A train. Regardless of what romantic notion you may have of the A train because of Duke Ellington’s immortal song “Take the A Train,” that train is the last place you want to be at 2 in the morning.

What took my situation from bad-to-worse, the A train is (or was, this was 30 plus years ago) a local at that time in the morning. For those of you who deprived of the sheer delight – or utter dread – of an NYC subway ride, a local train stops at all stations on the line.

No matter where I boarded, I was going to the end of the line.

The “end of the line” on the A train on two occasions was not just my destination, but nearly a bad New York Post headline. One night while waiting for the A train I was stabbed during an attempted mugging.  Another time while trying to defend a young white girl some thug put a gun to my forehead, pulled the trigger, but his gun jammed.

For asking him to be cool, I almost get shot in the head.

Take the A train?  No. The Duke, a musical genius? Yes. Giver of great advice? No.

On this particular early morning, I was sitting alone with my feet up on another seat. My feet were up for a couple of reasons; the first was so I could look hard. Hard in a “do not mess with me because I’m hard and may have a weapon on me because I’m hard” kind of way.

The second reason my feet were placed on the seat next to mine was to discourage people from sitting there. Before the Rudy Giuliani era in New York, the subway was a Mecca for the homeless, and you don’t want a New York City homeless person sitting next to you.

After all these years I’m now a bleeding heart liberal, and I feel for those less fortunate than I. These days’ homeless people sadden me.

That’s these days.

At 16 what I felt for the homeless was an evident scorn. I may have felt that way because my mother, sister and I were truly just a grandmother and a paycheck away from being homeless ourselves. That perhaps hardened my heart towards homeless people. Maybe I didn’t want to be reminded that there for the grace of God go I… yada, yadda, yadda…bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, yadda, yadda and yadda.

I’m not that deep now, and I certainly was not that deep at 16.

The real reason I did not want a homeless person sitting next to me is that they stank.

You have not smelled stank until you smell an NYC homeless person. The smell is beyond horrible. Somehow NYC homeless people all manage to stink the same. The smell is indescribably bad to the point you’d almost rather die than get even a small whiff of it.

So, there I was, 16 years old at 2 in the morning riding the A train trying my best to look hard so a smelly homeless person would not sit next to me and force me to deal with my mortality.

At the Howard Beach stop a black man in his mid 20s boards the train. He made a beeline right to me even though there were plenty of empty seats. “Can I sit here?” He asked very nicely. I moved my feet so he could sit down. Frankly I was glad he asked because the train was waiting at the Howard Beach stop for some reason or another and since we were the only two black people on the train at that point I welcomed the company.

Howard Beach was known as hardcore crazy white boy territory during the time I grew up. In 1986 a young black man was beaten to death by a  mob of white boys in a racially motivated attack. There have been incidents before and since. Black people knew not to mess with those crazy white boys in Howard Beach and not just because of racist attitudes there.

Howard Beach was also the home of John Gotti, the then-head of the Gambino crime family. I don’t like fish, so the idea of sleeping with them was not one that appealed to me. This was a place where African Americans had better fear to tread. I did indeed welcome this guy’s company because clearly we were on enemy ground.

Brandon was his name, and we clicked immediately. That may have been because we were both keenly aware that any minute a gang of crazy white boys could board the train and lynch us both. Our getting along so fast, I’m sure, was due to the fact we wanted to present a united front. Both hoping that would give the illusion we were two badass motherfuckers and any lynch mob should think twice about harassing us, strength in numbers and all that.

We sat at Howard Beach for another quarter hour when the doors finally closed and we could relax a little. The next stop was Broad Channel. Broad Channel was not nearly as bad as Howard Beach – it was more akin to crazy white boys lite, but still crazy white boys.

I realize I’m throwing “crazy white boys” around a lot. Back when I was 16 “crazy white boys” were my mindset and referring to white people in an all-white neighborhood where black people feared to tread was how I saw things.

After Broad Channel was the beginning of the hood, so Brandon and I needed just to chill (chill means just to be calm, but you knew that from reruns of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, didn’t you?) until the perceived danger was past. Broad Channel came and went as did our gangster conversation.

Brandon asked where I was getting off, and I told him. Beach 60th Street. “You want to come hang at my house?” Brandon inquired. That made me a bit uncomfortable. The Howard Beach threat over, I now returned to my general suspicions of those not from my hood.

“I’ve got stuff I’ve got to do at home,” I said. Yeah, I had to get into my bed and give the impression that I was home all night before my mother got in from working the midnight to 8 in the morning shift at the nursing home this after she had the 3 in the afternoon to 11 at another job. She would be in no mood to lecture me or even hit me, after her 16 plus hour day she would go straight to the .38 and shoot me.

I couldn’t come out and say to Brandon “my mommy would kill me if I’m not home” that did not fit my hard-core persona.

“Come on. We can have some real fun.” Brandon said, his hand now on my leg. That hand was slowly but steadily creeping up. He seemed to be talking in a much softer voice and was smiling in a strange way.

Where had I seen that kind of smile before?  Shit, I know where! I’ve seen it on me whenever I happened to glance in a mirror while alone in my room with some Vaseline and a Penthouse magazine.

Now I get it!

Brandon was a faggot and he wanted to ravish my young sexiness. Yeah, I said the ‘F’ word, I was 16, remember? Unfortunately, that was my mindset then.

Brandon still had his hand on my leg, and it was still creeping up. “What the fuck are you doing?” I said, trying to sound real hard. I wanted to look thuggish, but I was scared, so my voice rose and I sounded like I girl.

Not just any girl. Shirley Temple. So, imagine Shirley Temple saying “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Come on; it’s cool.” He responded even more softly than before. “Get your motherfucking hands off me, faggot!”  screamed Shirley Temple. I was hoping, this time, he could see I was pissed and back off.

Nope. He squeezed my crouch. I guess he was into hardcore black boys from the hood with Shirley Temple voices. Then again, who isn’t?

I leaned back as far as I could on the seat and kicked him squarely in the chest. I wanted to kick him in his face but felt at the last moment if I leaned back any further I would have fallen off my seat. I hit him so hard he fell off his seat landed on the floor his head slamming against the subway floor. I may have sounded like Shirley Temple, but I kicked like Bruce Lee.

“Motherfucker, I’m not a goddamn faggot!” I shrieked at the top of my Shirley Temple lungs while looking to land my next kick right between his good ship lollipops. Brandon sat up his hands in front of him making a “no more” gesture. He looked up at me and said “Jesus, man what is your problem?”

It was with that I realized most of what I thought was going on, wasn’t. His hand was on my leg, but it wasn’t slowly but steadily creeping up. He did not grab my crouch nor had his voiced gotten softer. I had turned an innocent most likely accidental touch into a full on man rape in my mind.

So absorbed in my own horribly tainted view of the world I had imagined this was what was on his mind. To make matters as worse as they could be I then kicked away any guilt I felt at being wrong by responding; “Get the fuck away me.”

That was over 30 years ago. Today I would never use the ‘F’ word to describe a gay person. I hate to use the cliché some of my best friends are gay, but… some of my best friends are gay. My attitude towards gay people changed when I changed high schools in the 11th grade. My new school, the High School of Art & Design, had a diverse student body and being gay there was not a big deal at all. But being stupid was.

Stupid I was when I said something so gross my first week at Art & Design it could have tainted my entire time there. It was a gay guy named Frank who saved my ass by laughing at an insult giving the impression to everybody present I was making a joke. I wasn’t and Frank knew I was wasn’t.  He whispered “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Michael, grow up.”

Thank god, I did.

After meeting and getting to know many gay people in my new school it dawned on me that they were no different than I was. They just happened to like sex with the same gender. Hell, in high school outside my loving relationship with the girls of Penthouse I was not having any sex at all, so they were one up on me.

Accepting gay people, having grown up in the severe anti-gay atmosphere of a black housing project was not as hard as you would imagine for me. My mother had a “no prejudice” rule in our home. Remarkable when you know just how dreadfully bad her encounters were with racists growing up.

Changing my position on gay people wasn’t hard, but it was still a huge deal for me because of my environment. It represented the first of many sea changes for me in my existence.

When I was not in school, I was still a resident of Edgemere projects in Far Rockaway Queens, which at the time was well on its way to being one of the worst projects in New York.

I was living a double life, and I intended to keep it that way. There was no way in Hell I would have ever acknowledged that I no longer found gay people repulsive to anyone in Edgemere.

Oh no, that would certainly not do. Why not stand up for my beliefs?

In the African American community where I grew up, there was little love for individuals who accept gay people. I may as well have stood up for and proudly proclaimed the Klan as the greatest group since The Temptations. Repealing my position on gay people would have gotten me branded as such, my ass kicked or worse in Edgemere.

At 16, noble I was not. No longer being able to participate in any reindeer games would have had a profound effect on me. It did not occur to me till much later that may have been a good thing.

I don’t want to give the impression that all black people I grew up with condemned the gay lifestyle, not the case at all. Many saw gay people as having every right as anyone else. But even today unfortunately among some in the African American community I’m in the minority, at odds with those, still light years if not eons away from embracing gay people at least in public.

“I gotta find this guy.”

Dwayne McDuffie said as he and I searched the corridors of a New York City comics convention in 1992. We were looking for Ivan Velez Jr., the remarkable writer of Tales of the Closet. The book was a look at the high school lives of gay and lesbian students and what they experienced.

Exceptionally written and drawn with a simple yet effective style the book instantly drew me back to A&D and thoughts of Frank and his crew. Ivan is a man of little words outside of what he puts on the page. He’s a big, gentle, quiet soul who lets his work do the talking for him. However, when he feels he has something to say few can match his oratory abilities, so it’s best not to engage him on the wrong side of an issue.

I thought about Frank, Ivan, the creators and fans of Prism Comics and my brother from another mother Andy Mangels when I heard the news of the Orlando massacre. I thought about how it must feel just to want to love who you want and be slaughtered for it.

This outrage was an attack on Frank who I haven’t seen in 30 years, Ivan who thinks I don’t like him, Andy who knows I love him and another, Billy who avoids me but protects my future ex-wife.

A friend lost to time, another lost to differences, one here forever, and the last not a friend but I’ve got his back also.

Each has a right to live their life, regardless of their opinion of me or mine of them.

Ivan and Billy are wrong about me, but I’ll take a bullet to defend their way of life as I’m sure they would supporting mine.

I was wrong about Brandon; I was also sixteen, young, selfis,h and stupid.

In 2016 those who would deny, suppress or kill someone’s love for another have no excuse and I’d say stupid would be a step WAY up.

I thought about how stupid I was at 16 and wondered how on earth some who claim to love their God can commit cold blooded murder on his behalf. I wonder how Donald Trump could brag about predicting another attack then hours later issue a more humane statement and not express his outrage or even mention the LGBT community then blatantly lie about the murderer being born in Afghanistan.

He wasn’t. He was born in the good old USA.

So was I and as far as I know most of the people at the Pulse nightclub, that night was born here also.

This was an attack on a lifestyle, an attack on America and an attack on freedom everywhere. Yes, it was all that.

It was also an attack on Frank, Ivan, Prism Comics and Andy. It was an attack on my friends. If you fuck with my friends, you fuck with me because unlike some people I know I stand with my friends no matter what.

No matter what.

If you don’t, soon they will come for you. They will because no matter who you are or what you believe in, you’re at risk. If you let this horror go then the next before long knowing you stand for no one but yourself, then those who disagree will know you stand alone.

Malcolm X said a man who will stand for nothing will fall for anything.

And fall you will.

Michael Davis: If This Be Doom’s Day

President Lex Luthor

Remember when Obama was elected?

For me as a black man, this was one of if not the ultimate “where were you at when such and such occurred” moment.

When O.J. was acquitted, I was in the conference room at Motown. The Rodney King verdict in my office and (this is not a joke) I let all the white people on my staff go home early.

Alex Ross obamaI was in bed with a five-alarm migraine praying for death or sleep, whichever came first. It was sleep and when it came it seemed to last about a second before my phone woke me. I ignored the call but soon it became apparent that was the first of many. My phone played my “wrong nigga to fuck with” ringtone so often I dreamt LAPD had arrested me again.

I picked up determined to destroy whoever it was.

“Prince is dead.”

My heart joined my head in unbearable pain. The same kind of pain I felt while at Xenon a New York club that rivaled the famed Studio 54 for a time where I was when John Lennon was shot.

I’m sure most people can remember where they were when something earth-shattering happened. However; can you remember where you were the day after the earth shook?

I can, for one day.

The day after John Lennon died I was in Barron Storey’s illustration class at Pratt Institute. Baron brought in a small organ then instructed the class to “create something moving” in remembrance of the slain Beatle while he played Beatles tunes.

Yeah, that happened.

On 911 I was in my Los Angeles home. Denys Cowan and I, both transported die hard New Yorkers, watched the news reports all day from separate houses, neither of us capable of hanging up the phone and driving the 10 minutes to the others home.

An Atlanta Hilton was my location when the news came about the first World Trade Center attack in 1993. My wife at the time had taken her class there on a field trip that very day. Somehow I knew when I couldn’t reach her she was there when the bomb exploded.

She was.

I was unable to book a flight home and spent one of the longest days of my life terrified. At 2 a.m. she called and explained how everyone had to shelter in place until they were escorted out.

All those events remain etched in my memory. Except the first WTC bombing, none nearly etched as deep as when Barak Obama won the Presidency.

Once again I was with Denys Cowan, but this time at his home. We were overjoyed, to say the least. As it turned out, so was the comic book industry.

To say the industry was supportive would be a massive understatement. There were special editions from Marvel, Image, Devil’s Due and Fantagraphics to name a few among the many. Hell, Alex Ross did a tee-shirt many of Hollywood’s A-list wore and damn for a time that shirt was as big as the ‘Hope’ image.

The comics industry embraced Obama with a passion.

Almost eight years, two terms and 96 months of crazy shit later it’s possible the polar opposite of Obama may be elected.

One of the traits shared by politics and comics are evil opposites.

There is always an evil counterpart to great heroes. It’s not hard to spot them they tell you who they are.

“It all fits somehow, his coming here to Metropolis. And at this particular time. There’s a kind of cruel justice about it. I mean, to commit the crime of the century, a man naturally wants to face the challenge of the century. – Lex Luthor

Now that we know who you are, I know who I am. I’m not a mistake! It all makes sense! In a comic, you know how you can tell who the arch villain’s going to be? He’s the exact opposite of the hero. And most times they’re friends, like you and me! I should’ve known way back when… You know why, David? Because of the kids. They called me Mr. Glass. – Elijah Price a.k.a. Mr. Glass

Two other great comic book foils, the Reverse Flash and Bizarro, were thorns in the side to their counterparts Flash and Superman. The Reverse flash is straight up evil I have no idea if he’s still around in whatever universe DC is entering or was around in the last universe or the universe before that. I know back in the day when Barry Allen was the Flash, the Reverse Flash was a great character and genuine evil bastard.

Bizarro isn’t evil, but he certainly plays a hazardous role.

Superman JFKDonald Trump is a bigger than life character. He’s great television I’ll say that. He may not be evil but he certainly is dangerous, and that’s not just my opinion it’s a lot of the globe’s as well.

The world, for the most part, was happy Obama became President of the United States. If the Donald becomes the next President?

Not so much.

From the New York Times, May 22. 2016:“Kenichiro Sasae, Japan’s ambassador to the United States, said about a possible Trump victory; “I don’t want to see that kind of United States.”

Itsunori Onodera, a former defense minister and a member of the Japanese House of Representatives, gave a lengthy list of what he characterized as Mr. Trump’s misstatements. “I don’t think there are any Trump supporters present here.”

The industry was so pro-Obama eight years ago, so I’m wondering if his opposite enters the White House race what if anything will the industry do?

It just seems if the comic book industry and frankly a lot of the entertainment world went SO buck wild over Barack Obama we should go “oh hell no!” at the thought of a Donald Trump Presidency.

Will we?

Will unique issues be published showing Trump as evil?

Will Trump be featured with a wicked giant smiling grinning face on the cover of Spider-Man?

Will the Savage Dragon pimp slap the Donald?

Will he be depicted as more dangerous than Galactus? Will the Silver Surfer become his Herald sent to Mexico and the Middle East to make way for the Donald and his Ultimate Nullifier?

In Mexico, will he use the Ultimate Nullifier to make them build a wall to imprison themselves and pay for it with their pesos? Have to admit if Trump can make a country build a wall to keep their citizens in place that would be some awesome shit.

And if Mexico pays for what would be a standing insult and demeaning barrier?

If that happens, Donald Trump would be the ultimate pimp alas Trump fans. It will never happen. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. “it will never happen” is what most (including me) said about Trump’s road to the Republican nomination. Well, I was wrong, and it did happen.

The only real way one country can make another do its bidding is at the point of a gun. You think Trump is crazy enough to go to war so he can get that wall built? I do, but the American people won’t stand for it.

Then again, if he’s elected President talking the crazy shit, he’s talking now maybe they will.

But I digress. Peter David! Howthehellareyou?

What will the comic book industry do? Barack Obama may not be universally loved but people he’s a comic fan. That makes him one of us.

Will we do nothing?

There’s a saying: The Only Thing Necessary for the Triumph of Evil is that Good Men Do Nothing.

I am not naïve. I’m fully aware some see Donald Trump as a savior. Some see him as a confident business person and the future of America. I don’t see him that way. I see him as a very shrewd thoroughly convincing to some, egomaniac. Although I respect, everybody’s right to do what they want. As a person of color, I can’t under any circumstances support a homophobic, women hating, race baiting, KKK denying, violence inciting man who goes before the entire world and talks about his dick.

THIS IS A CNN SPECIAL REPORT:

AMERICA AT WAR!

The nightmare we thought would never occur has come to pass. America has dropped a nuclear bomb on Mexico. International reaction has been quick. The world has condemned our action. The United States of America has been kicked out of Nato as well as the United Nations. Forces are building against us, and all US citizens have been…wait a moment…we now take you to The Trump House where President Trump will address the nation.

“My fellow Americans, you know who you are. I love real Americans. Look no reason to be scared, there’s no way anyone will mess with us. Those reports of missiles heading towards us is as real as Obama’s birth certificate. The President of Spic Land, ya like that? I called it Spic land.

The President left me no choice in the matter when he insulted the United States of America. He told Anderson Cooper “Anyone who talks about how big his home is how much money he has and how big his penis is must be compensating for something.”

I hear from many many people he said his cock was bigger than mine. I told him to prove it, “Whip that tamale on out signor wetback and let’s see. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

He didn’t so I had to drop the big one on him. I only meant to get him but, well these things happen.

Far-fetched?

Donald Trump has used some of the very same tactics as Hitler. There are many, but I’ll just cite one, he blames a particular group of immigrants for our problems.

Most stood by and watched as Hitler proceeded to try to destroy several particular groups. Will it happen here? Can it? That, I admit is far-fetched.

On the other hand, is saying the first black President, vetted by the FBI, CIA, NSA is a Muslim born in Africa, but some guy found out on the internet that’s a lie.

Millions of people believed that bullshit.

Millions still do.

Michael Davis: Dan Didio, Dorothy & The Case For Kool-Aid (Uncut)

DiDio

Mr. Khosla,

I read your piece “The Case Against Dan Didio.”

I’m rarely impressed, but you wrote an impressive article. The attention to detail, footnotes, research and overall thoughtfulness you put into making your case was indeed extraordinary.

Kool-AidI’m a bit taken aback by your use of my article as the motivation to write yours. My article why are we still complaining about Dan Didio had little written about Mr. Didio. It certainly wasn’t a defense of his work nor a damning of it. He and others mentioned were only used to illustrate my outlook.

Much of what you wrote regarding my views and work can do with a bit of clarity. I fear what you’ve constructed in your narrative is somewhat unbalanced and frankly unfair.

For example, placing quotes around a word when no one is speaking gives the distinct impression you don’t believe, care or respect my resume. You choose to describe mentor as “mentor.” For the life of me sir I have no idea why you would cast such an adverse slight at me.

My Bad Boy Studio Mentor program has achieved a fair amount of success. By all means feel free to ask Bernard Chang, John Paul Leon, Shawn Martinborough, Aaron McGruder and Brett Lewis, who mentored them.

There are more whom you are welcome to request confirmation from; I’ve been very fortunate to have had a small hand helping numerous young men and women join our beloved profession.

You could also speak to Chris Claremont or director Bill Duke. Both called me looking for a talented young person to work with them.

That girl I referred to Chris was Ali Morales. Ali went on to become DC Comics and perhaps the industry’s first Latino woman editor. Tatiana El-Khouri started as Bill’s assistant and finished running his company; now she’s running her own.

Thinking of my Bad Boys (and girls) swells my heart and moistens my eyes. I dare say those who came from my Bad Boy program are some of the best of the best. It matters little what else I’ve achieved in life nothing compares with the love and pride I feel for them.

I’m sure you can now appreciate why “mentor” cut me to the quick.

Hopefully, speaking to any of the above will result in a bit of lucidity into my background If you ever see fit to write about my mentorship program again.

You sir, forgive me for saying so, were a bit heavy handed in your use of conjecture. Nonetheless, it’s not surprising you would write about me in such a manner.

Sadly, that’s the industry model these days. I wrote about such in the very article you referenced so often. The venom and hate displayed in comics today and my hope for a reversal of that trend was the point of my column.

Sir, when you have a moment I’d like for you to clear something up for me. I just can’t fathom why you would use my article to go and do the very thing I wrote may damn us and please spell your name phonetically so if we meet I pronounce it correctly.

And it’s all anyone is talking about.

I mentioned I consider you a wee bit unfair in your analysis of my words.

Please consider the following from my article: The movies making the most money are from our house. But we’d rather bitch about Dan Didio still running DC than applaud Eric Stephenson, publisher at Image Comics. Eric gave the greatest comic book speech since Uncle Ben told Peter Parker; with great power, comes great responsibility.

“I’d like to talk about the future, but first, we’re going to do some time travel, back to a time when there was no Internet, no Twitter, no Facebook, no Instagram. A time when there were no comic book stores.”

That was Eric’s spectacular opening and it got better from there.

We should still be talking about it. The industry coverage of that speech?

Almost none. Perhaps if Eric had started his speech with the following, we would still be talking about it.

“I’d like to talk about the future, but first, we’re going to do some time travel, back to a time Dan Didio wasn’t screwing up DC, Marvel didn’t suck, and there was no Dark Horse because there shouldn’t be any damn Dark Horse.”

Yep, we’d still be talking about that.

I dare say with your musings put in the manner you put them, we are.

Mr. Khosla, I don’t know you but from your writings, it does appear you are an educated man. You certainly have a passion concerning comic books and I do believe you have comics’ best interest at heart.

I’m very much at my wits end pondering why you transformed what I wrote into something I did not write with your explanations.

I wrote: I once loved the comics industry with a passion almost incomprehensible even to myself but the industry I loved so is gone. What remains is a fat out of shape ghost of its former self. A snake oil salesman selling a yearly new everything hoping fans will consider it a glorious new tune.

You wrote: This is how we’re starting a defense of Dan DiDio – by having to acknowledge that comic industry under his supervision has become an “out of shape ghost of its former self.”

Uhm. Okay. Great argument.

And the victim of comic fans, according to Mr. Davis?

Mr. Davis, eh? If you insist of addressing me so formally, please afford me the courtesy of doing it correctly. I feel it’s only fair after your “mentor” slights you address me as Dr. Davis as I have a Ph.D., please forgive me for my rudeness if this offends you, it is not my intention.

The following is another example of the slanting of my words.

You wrote Mr. Davis continues by trying to identify the culprit – not Mr. DiDio, but of course, comic fans.

I wrote What slays me and I fear will destroy us all is how we see, speak and represent ourselves. Character assassination over a creative decision. Damning a company, creator or content because someone wrote or drew something someone took issue with, rumors perceived as news, news handled like press releases were all once virtually repudiated as just being silly.

The problem with comics is the fans are not nice enough to the people who make them.

That is patently unjust my friend and even more so given life for me these days have been incredibly unfair. I won’t burden you with my many tales of woe. However, I do think the following incident is somewhat appropriate to share with you.

Within the last year, I’ve lost three dogs. I cannot express to you the pain that caused me. No, you have not caused me any pain sir. That’s not the reason I’m sharing that with you.

After some time, I intend to get another dog. To that end it just so happens your article appeared on the day I was wondering when the next time I’d have to teach another little bitch not to shit in my house.

It seems that day is today and the time is now.

We interrupt this professional rebuttal for a word from the wrong nigga to fuck with:

Motherfucker, where the fuck did you see Dan’s name anywhere near the quote you used? Where did you read I blamed the fans?

Nowhere. It’s not there. You made that up.

I’m simply amazed how you pulled that “response” to my article off. No one points out the level of bullshit that you shovel down their throats. Sure, I’ve seen people disagree with you, but I have yet to see anyone take you to task for the little fact that nothing you contribute to me exists anywhere in the article.

Nowhere. Like the emperor, the little bitch has no clothes.

The industry is eating up what is the comic book equivalent of weapons of mass destruction. Just like Bush, you picked a target to attack because it was convenient and you made a convincing case by writing smoke and mirrored attack on me.

Just like Bush, there was nothing there. It didn’t exist it was all bullshit.

I didn’t defend Dan’s leadership at DC anywhere in my article.

I also didn’t dismiss Dan’s leadership at DC anywhere in my article.

I don’t write in riddles my friend; don’t write leaving room for interpretation and I don’t write in some vague style, so later I can wiggle out of what I said.

Within my writings there is no need for deliberation, you don’t have to ponder shit nor is there any reason to think there is a hidden meaning. I write what I mean; say what I mean. You used me and my work to advance your agenda.

That was a bad idea.

I could give you a list of people and companies who tried that and but for one they all wrote me a check. The one that hasn’t got a pass up to now.

Relax dude; I’m not going to sue you. You’re a hell of a writer. That’s not a backward dig I mean that. Where you need help is in reading comprehension

Help is here, Bitch. Get out a pencil and paper because you’re about to get schooled.

Math

How many words were there between “I once loved the comic industry with a passion almost incomprehensible even to myself but the industry I loved so is gone. What remains is a fat out of shape ghost of its former self. A snake oil salesman selling a yearly new everything hoping fans will consider it a glorious new tune.”

And Dan Didio may be the most hated man in comics and for what?

  1. 325
  2. 6
  3. 9

The answer A. 325.

How the hell did you tie the two together? Oh wait, you used the weapons of mass destruction technique. Attack somebody who had nothing to do with the attack you wanted to make. Like Bush, you thought you could get away with it.

Surprise.

If I may paraphrase the immortal words of Bill Duke, bitch, you know you done fucked up, don’t you?

How many words are there in the entire article?

  1. 2564
  2. 10,000
  3. 1278

The answer is A. 2564

You gave every impression I’d devoted all my article to Dan. Apparently the people who backed you did not read what I wrote, or they are drinking the stupid flavored Kool-Aid.

Of the 2564 words how many words were written about Dan?

  1. 2563
  2. 2567
  3. 190

The answer is C. 190

I’ve heard about it but never tried it. How is the stupid Kool-Aid?

Geography

Using the following paragraph below show where Dan first appears.

“I once loved the comic industry with a passion almost incomprehensible even to myself but the industry I loved so is gone. What remains is a fat out of shape ghost of its former self. A snake oil salesman selling a yearly new everything hoping fans will consider it a glorious new tune.”

Where is Dan first located?

  1. 325 words before
  2. 325 words after
  3. In the same paragraph

The answer is B – 325 words after the quote.

Can you get addicted to Kool-Aid?

History

When did Michael Davis stop working with DC?

  1. He never stopped working with DC
  2. 1993
  3. 2016
  4. The day DC realized he was black
  5. The day he told a DC executive to suck his dick
  6. The day he refused to shut up about how fucked up DC was treating him while at Milestone.
  7. The day a VP at DC tried to prevent him from becoming President & CEO of Motown Animation and Filmworks
  8. The day the Earth stood still
  9. The day Abhay Khosla realized Doctor Davis has no goddamn reason to kiss DC’s ass, never has, never will.

The answer is late 1993. That’s 23 years.

Fun fact: E, F, G, and H are all true. You think perhaps there was no love lost between DC and me?

Rich Johnson changed my original title, which was “What’s Love Got To Do With it?” Why are we still complaining about Dan Didio is all Rich and being the Johnson that he is he knew full well someone would take his bait.

I like Richard. He’s an important part of our industry. He’s got his critics, but a man without critics is a man with no success. I let what he does slide because he knows his audience.

But, like anyone else if I have an issue with him I voice it, and I have two. Editing my work, so you get F**K instead of what I wrote and that so-called comics power list.

But I digress. Peter David! Hey! As always I look forward to seeing you at my annual Comic-Con party!

Your article paints me as defending Dan with a passion; I didn’t. In fact, I gave an example of how I stood by him when he was at ABC and he, for whatever reason, has not shown me the same courtesy since being at DC.

That to me is a dick move but if that’s how he wants to be let him be that. I got other shit to do, and I certainly don’t need DC Comics to pay my mortgage. Yeah, I’d like to work with them again and on paper, I should be.

I have a long albeit novel relationship with Dan. I met Diane Nelson when she was still at Warner Consumer products, and we still exchange the occasional email. Lastly, Jim Lee and I have been in business together it was Image who published my Machineworks imprint.

I think fondly of the 3 am meeting I had with Image at the Hyatt during Comic Con way back when. I bare no one at DC any malice, and I’m glad to see each of those people whenever our paths cross.

Fun Fact: DC Comics is still my universe of choice, and I’ve said that regardless of the state my relationship is with them.

But, like I said I got other shit to do.

Why’d you do it? Nothing in my article was interpreted correctly so again, why’d you do it?

The first step is to admit you have a problem. It’s the Kool-Aid isn’t it?

My clearly made point was this; all this negative energy spent on Dan would be best spent trying to create a forward movement for the industry. People have been trying to get Dan fired for well over a decade.

How the fuck is that working out for you?

I’m always amazed when someone’s goal in life is to fuck up someone else’s.

You’re like a guy who desperately wants to date a girl. When she repeatedly says no you set out to impress her even more. Flowers and candy don’t work so you post something sweet on her Facebook page a poem. Danielle is her name and your name for your little limerick.

She blocks you.

You then embark on a campaign to make her pay. Your poem becomes a book-length attack designed to shame, sadden and hurt her.

You post, The case against Dan Didio, I mean Danielle secure in the knowledge this will destroy her.

She laughs it off. She laughs you off.

Soon you realize a cruel irony. Like Baum’s Dorothy who wanted nothing but to find a way home, she realized the way was her.

She became her way home.

The thing most wanted from “Danielle” is what you’ve become.

A little pussy.

The truth that you damn well knew unless you’re a fucking idiot was Dan made a minor part of an extensive article.

Nothing you attribute to me concerning Dan, fans and my point of view is accurate. The article’s use of my work is not just inaccurate Zero is written remotely slightly, somewhat or vaguely like you describe.

I’m a simple guy I don’t write in riddles I don’t write with conjecture as my primary source. I never blamed the fans for anything.

Bottom line. If you want to pick apart something I’ve done, criticize something I wrote, have at it just don’t rewrite it to suit your personal bullshit.

I wrote While many in the industry continue to turn on each other, some even creating another tempest of hatred once the last storm has lost the wind that propelled it Len Wein just writes another story creates another character all done without a hateful word towards his fellow creators.

Did you skip over that?

Or

kitten-1You’ve just being a dick?

Pick a side, pussy? Dick? Which one are you? You can’t be both, unless you pronounce your last name Kardashian.

Oh, and one more thing about being a “mentor” you might want to check with Walt Simonson as well. Walt came to my studio to see how I ran my mentorship program after accepting a teaching position at the School Of Visual Arts.

Fun fact: Rosamond Bernier did the same when she decided to add a young adult series to her career. I never assume anything, but I have a feeling you’ve never heard of her.

Google her; that may give you a small window into who you’re dealing with and at what level I operate.

You’re passionate about the industry I get that. I’ll be the first to tell you I’ve made many mistakes, and I own up to them.

Many years ago I labeled Bob Chapman a racist. I was young and hotheaded and saw things through a lens of bigoted pain. Bob isn’t a racist he and his family are the salt of the Earth.

I wrote and published Bob an apology the very next week when I was proved wrong. When next I saw him I did so in person then I found his wife and then so again. I was young and hotheaded, but I was not stupid. I was wrong, and I owned up to it.

You are wrong. Do the right thing.

You may think I’m writing this in anger. I’m not, this is far from reaching my level of rage.

I’m saddened by the amount of work you put into this was used to fuel yet another fruitless attack on for better or worse one of the leaders of our industry. You’ve added another reason comics get no respect. Hollywood should be our partners, but instead, we are their bitch.

Lastly, if you want to get black boys into your van, it’s easy. Simply tell them you’re a little pussy.

Michael Davis: Back In The Day

donaldfuckCOMICMIX3

Lois LaneBack in the days of “I am Curious Black,” a 1970 Lois Lane story about Lois using a machine to become a black woman; she does so to see what it was like to be black.

Back then the good folks at DC did not think twice about a black artist or writer. Now, if a story with a black character comes down the pipe, the net is in an uproar if black creators are not involved.

Me? I say the white boys have at it. A good story, like a good character, is colorblind. Trying or even wanting to ban white people from writing black characters is as horribly short sided, stupid, and as prejudiced as banning Muslims from America.

A white writer telling a story featuring a black character is one thing. Telling a story where they try and define the black experience on some level is quite another. To do that… well is not easy.  However, it can and has been done. Stephen Gaghan pulled it off in the film Traffic. That is a textbook example of the black experience written wonderfully by a white person.

On the other hand, the English writer Mark Millar, one of the great comic book writers of his or any generation, gave us Tyrone Cash. Tyrone started out Dr. Leonard Williams, a renowned, brilliant African American scientist who figures out how to gain the powers of The Hulk while retaining his intellect.

What does Dr. Williams decide to do with his newfound power? Why, he does what any black brilliant scientist would do after figuring out how to gain the power of the Hulk yet retains his intellect.

He changes his name to Tyrone and becomes a drug dealer.

As a child, I was happy to see black people in a comic book. Happy even after my mother read the Lois Lane story and asked me, “Why didn’t they make Superman black?”

“Because it’s Lois Lane’s comic!” I said with pride, I mean duh.

If this was such an important story, then why indeed didn’t they make Superman black? That’s what she was saying that my eight-year old brain couldn’t grasp. Seeing such, she moved to the next best thing.

“Why don’t you make a black Superman, Michael?”

“Because DC Comics would commence a legal proceeding against me for copyright infringement. They have the means and the will to do so. My God, woman perhaps you should stop working seven days a week at those silly two jobs and get with the program.” I said.

Yeah, right.

I didn’t say that I was eight. To me copyright meant copy something right.

What I did say was “Because Superman is white.”

Turns out decades later I co-created Icon, a black Superman if ever there was one.

Icon, Static, Hardware and the Blood Syndicate were met with overwhelmingly positive reviews from most. I heard ‘its about time’ so often I was convinced people thought the books were about a black Doctor Who.

Many met these heroes with a deep anger and resentment. Nobody talks about the hate mail received but as always when black people make significant inroads into a category once denied then made difficult there’s always a “stay in your lane nigger” component when finally, people of color arrive at then enter the door.

Those letters were scary, but what was scarier was the attack those heroes took from other black creators, attacks that were brutal, horrible, and damaging. The company line was never to respond. I didn’t agree then, and I do not agree now. I feel you cannot let others define you.

That’s why I’ve spent the last 20 plus years setting the record straight.

I realized something the last time I spent part of my weekend in jail.

Yep, you read that right.

I was in a restaurant in a lovely neighborhood – mine. Two white guys ran across the floor and attacked me. Little known fact: although it’s called something different, California has a stand your ground law not unlike what they have in Florida.

I stood my ground, and I was arrested.

I realized something while I was unjustly locked up (again, yep again) I realized no matter why we were there, we united like brothers. Black or brown, it didn’t matter.

There was no beef between anyone; no one acted like they owned the place and no one pulled rank. A few hours later, a well-dressed white kid around 20 was let into the cell. It had taken around 12 minutes before he was beaten to a bloody pulp.

No. That did not happen.

The white kid was led to a private cell, we all stopped and looked as the guards walked him pass. “No handcuffs.” Someone noted. I said “They only make them in black or brown.” Even the black guard bringing us our grill cheese and diarrhea sandwich laughed then said; “Maybe if you used that quick wit for something you wouldn’t be here. Ya think?”

Or maybe the powers that be could look at the video and listen to eyewitness accounts instead of arresting the black guy who was defending himself.

Ya think?

No one got upset when the white guy was given a private cell, although nothing would have happened to him if placed in with us. Why would it? No one was upset the white guy received special treatment because we all knew this was the way it was.

Back in the days of Lois Lane’s “Black Like Me” moment DC and Marvel gave little if any thought to black creators when deciding to do a story about a character of color. They didn’t have to; they do now.

I am glad they do now if Marvel and DC would stop giving the general pubic the impression they are the kings of diversity that would be nice. The so-called black Avengers, black Captain America, black/Latino Spider-Man, black Batman, black Superman and the rest did not issue in the modern age of diversity.

Icon, Static, Hardware and the Blood Syndicate did that, 23 years ago and Brotherman did it 25 years ago.

Notwithstanding a full quarter century of remarkable black content, the perception among most black and white young fans is still, if Marvel and DC don’t do it, it matters little if at all.

That’s important; I’ll revisit that later.

There exists a serious movement among some in the black comic book community to bring black comics to black and mainstream audiences. Notable among those fighting the good fight, Mala Crown Williams and MECCA Con, the Black Age of Comics Convention, Ryn Ryonslaught Fraser and his wonderful World of Black Heroes website… and no one works harder than John Jennings. Still, there also exists an insufferable discord among some black creators.

Now is the time for that shit to stop.

Back in the day when successful black comics received hate mail black creators were in charge of their voice. If we responded or didn’t, we had a choice to do so or not. That was our right. That a right many of us take for granted

When DC Comics ran the Lois Lane story “I am curious Black,” that was a noble attempt to show people what life was all about in the community. DC Comics spoke for us because we had no voice to do so.

Yeah, we had a ‘right’ but no voice within comics to speak for ourselves.

I had little choice but to love seeing Lois Lane as a black woman. Love it or leave it was my only option there was nothing else out there for me.

Some choice exists now in comics for kids, and I’ve always had a choice rather or not I’ll be arrested again.

I can stay out of restaurants where I’d be one of a handful of people. I could avoid specific concerts, plays, sporting events or anywhere where being an African American man would be an issue.

I could just stay home.

That’s my choice and the choice of every man. But I have a right to live where I want, eat where I want and do what I want within the law. That sounds grand, but the reality is the ‘law’ hasn’t worked for me.

I love America and “truth, justice, and the American way” is a nice slogan, but the sad truth is I think twice about running for a bus. I expect no justice, and the American way is a myth to me.

The comic book industry, such as it needs to face some serious certainty. Yes, we can voice our opinions but even today those of us who create African American content for the mass market are taken less seriously unless it’s from Marvel or DC.

Bitch all you want. Them’s the facts.

Donald Trump has a real shot of becoming President. Once thought of as a joke that joke is no longer funny. However, it’s not Trump that scares me. What scares me is the massive support of a man who denounces the KKK only after days of defending reasons he didn’t denounce him.

He’s insulted Mexicans, Muslims, African-Americans, women and the physically challenged. He’s never once apologized for insisting President Obama show his birth certificate which is just another way to have a nigger show his papers.

Who supports that kind of person for President? An awful lot or people.

That guy may become President we may be well on the way to the days when Lois Lane and Superman have to speak for us again because what little voice we have now will be even less. What little power we have as comic book creators will be even less than that.

I was in jail six hours before my lawyer got me out. The guard first walking to the white guy’s cell assuming he was “Davis.” When he finally got to me I said “I’m mistaken for short blond white guys often.” No laughter this time.

Leaving the cell, I felt instantly less empowered. You would think I’d feel more empowered. Nope. Locked up, I was part of a group of people who regardless of why they were there were united. Out of jail, I can’t run for a bus if a white lady is ahead of me doing the same.

Regardless of our differences, the comics community would do well to consider what we have to lose if there are so many who want Trump to win.

One last word about Tyrone Cash. Millar should be forbidden to enter America until we figure out what’s going on.

 

Michael Davis From The Edge: All You Need Is Love

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My mom died thinking she threw away a copy of Superman number one from 1938.

Yes, I do indeed realize just how lame that must sound, and it would be if I gave a flying fish about that book with regards to my mother. I don’t but it’s important to the story I’m trying to write and just so I’m crystal clear, I’d happily burn the last copy left on Earth to spend just a minute more with my mother.

It was Superman number two she tossed out, and you can read the whole story entitled A Comic Book Tale on ComicMix.

I told her it was number one while trying to make the point that she should never throw out another comic book of mine, ever, and she never did. I have been keeping that my secret weapon for when I needed a real ‘gotcha’ to use on my mom. She was always just to quick for me when it came down to… well… to anything.

I’m a funny guy, but she was funnier and smarter than me, and I’m a smart guy. Despite what you may have heard, I am not a loud mouth, thug, tasteless or immature. Bizarre is a matter of opinion as is nauseating and although a 160 IQ does not preclude me from being stupid (been there, be back soon) I’m nobodys’ moron.

I know. I didn’t believe it either.

All my life my mother said goodnight to me one of two ways: “Goodnight genius child of mine” or ” Goodnight Bartholomew.”

“Bartholomew’ was my mom’s way of stopping me from asking the same question repeatedly, such as “Why don’t I have a middle name?”

The last time she said goodnight to me I was in her hospital room during what would turn out to be her last two weeks on earth. “Michael, you are a genius. However, I have forgotten more than Scooter ever knew. So keep that in mind.”

That was brutal. Mortal Combat fatality, your 90-year old sweet as sugar grandmother, shouts Ooooooooh Shit all up in your face, brutal.

Scooter, the childhood nickname for my world renowned artist cousin William T. Williams.

Scooter once told me he had forgotten more than I would ever know. He said this to me after I refused to concede a point during a discussion about Picasso.

“Picasso can’t draw!”

I boldly told this to a man whose paintings hang in some of the world’s greatest museums. So badass is he when DC’s long-time publisher (and former art critic) Jenette Kahn found out he was my cousin she insisted on meeting him. In my defense, I was 12 or so when I threw down such stupidity, but the fact of the matter is his statement made today would still ring true.

In those two weeks with Jean (yes I call my mother Jean) I’d let her have her fun recounting my childhood antics then, always before any visitor departed, I’d hit them with the Superman #1 story. That tale always brought a smile to Jean’s face, and she would follow with an embarrassing story of my youth.

Without fail those accounts began with her patented; “Mike and those comics of his…”

It turns out a great many of my mother’s favorite stories had to do with my love for comics, like the time my sister got me to cease my evil little brother antics for an entire week after her friend Yvette promised me ‘lots of new comics.’

Damn Yvette and her evil lying demon eyes!

I was amazed at the amount of remembrances conjured up in that hospital room with comic books the lead or supporting a narrative. I always thought my comic book hobby was, like me, a wee bit annoying to my family.

It appears I was not paying attention.

My cousin named one of his paintings Batman, which at the time, I considered the coolest thing ever and that’s saying something because that was the year I discovered girls. One day I had a choice between seeing Sadie Jackson’s boobs or debating with Julian Butler, my then-best friend, why Swamp Thing was much cooler than Man-Thing. I choose to argue with Julian who I thought would forever be my best friend.

Then one day he just punched me in the face and ran away. That’s true, and I had no idea why. Damn, that keeps happening to me and still no explanation or Sadie Jackson titty action.

I never realized how comics played a part with others in my family.

It was my mom who turned me onto the original Captain Marvel and taught me the art of the comic book deal, buy two, trade one. It was another cousin, Greg, who sold me seven golden age comics including that Superman number two for a buck.

Those and other memories, once among my most cherished are now painful to relive. Without my mom to co-sign, my trip down that lane brings little joy these days.

I once loved the comic industry with a passion almost incomprehensible but that industry I loved so is gone. What remains is a fat out of shape ghost of its former self. A snake oil salesman selling a yearly new everything hoping fans will consider it a glorious new tune.

But it’s the same old song.

I watch as new universes are considered original ideas and wonder who else thinks the same characters in a different setting, i.e., ‘universe’ isn’t new?

Tom Sawyer in another setting is a new story to be sure, but it’s still Tom Sawyer. You make Tom a black kid and he’s still Tom. You put Black Tom in another setting where he’s painting a fence; he’s shot by the police who take his white paint covered brush for a gun, but he’s still Tom.

It’s most likely just me but that ‘new universe’ thing now feels fake and a lazy way to avoid trying anything new. No, originality is not dead in comics, but most of what are unquestionably original concepts are happening far, far away from where I live which for better or worse is DC and Marvel.

That same old song is a problem, but it’s not the problem.

Some of the brightest people in entertainment are in comics, so this too shall pass I’m sure as it always does.

What slays me and I fear will destroy us all is how we see, speak and represent ourselves.

Character assassination over a creative decision. Damning a company, creator or content because someone wrote or drew something someone took issue with, rumors perceived as news, news handled like press releases were all once virtually repudiated as just being silly.

Like the once King of Rock & Roll, I fear comics have left the building for perhaps the last time and like the king will die on the bathroom floor face down in the shit we’ve made.

Dan DiDio may be one of the most hated men in comics and for what? For doing his job? Back before Dan was running DC, he was a network executive at ABC. I sold Dan and his partner at ABC Linda Steiner an animated show called “Monkey But…” That’s not a typo – that’s how the title of the show is spelled; it was a nutty idea. The best way to describe it was how I pitched it: Animaniacs on crack.

Dan and I spoke every day and got pretty friendly. Then Disney bought ABC and Dan, and Linda’s jobs were in play. The Hollywood game was to wait until Disney settled on whoever would be running ABC Saturday mornings, I made it clear I wanted Dan and Linda on the MB team even after it became apparent Disney did not.

When Dan and Linda were let go, I called to offer support keeping in mind talented people always end up somewhere else. Dan ended up at DC Comics and although we’ve had two project meetings getting them were, let’s say, not as easy as you would think given our history.

Yeah, that sucks.

I thought he and I had become friends and have the emails to back that thought up. I thought the same of Bob Wayne, who for a brief moment in time was my DC Comics running buddy, until he wasn’t.

In today’s comic industry climate, I’ve ample reason to dislike or even hate Dan, Bob, Paul Levitz and others if I rolled like that… but I do not.

Dan brought a TV series from me; Bob took me to the single best convention ever in Texas no less… and Paul was an extraordinary mentor and friend.

I couldn’t hate these people if I were paid too and trust me people have tried. I’m just not that guy. That’s not who my mother raised. Each of those men represented a piece of my comics’ journey, and largely it was good.

weinI’ve voiced what issues I’ve had with each of them at some point but hate them because of such? I’m an adult with what I hope is a bit of integrity so, no.

Dan, Paul and Bob all love comics, in fact, I know not one single person who got into comics just as a job. Everyone I know who writes and draws comics got into it because they loved comics.

A few months ago I had dinner with Len Wein and his lovely wife, Christina. Anyone looking would have thought it was just three friends having a meal.

But across from me sat the man who has created more iconic characters than anyone with the possible exception of Stan Lee. Stan usually gets the nod outright, and his work is the work of legend to be sure. That said consider the following, Len has created A-list characters both at Marvel and DC. Although he ran Marvel for a year, most of his creative output as a writer had to find a home whereas Stan’s creation already had one.

Stan is still the man the man his mark on comics and pop culture so high it’s doubtful anyone ever reaches it. The same could easily be said for Len. Len’s been in the game for over 40 years; I’ve known him about 20.

Marv WolfmanIn all that time I’ve never heard Len rant against anyone, and if anybody has a right to pitch a fit, it’s Len Wein. Whatever issues Len has if he voices them the goal is never to harm anyone. Len still talks about comics as if he were still a kid going taking the DC comics tour with his best friend, Marv Wolfman.

Both were hoping against hope that they would be discovered and start to work in comics. They were, and few creators can match what these two have done in comics.

What they haven’t done is take offense to someone’s work because they don’t agree with the person who did it. They don’t call creator’s horrible names or damn an entire company because they don’t like what one individual is doing.

Len, Marv, Mike and Paul all still talk about comics as they once did, with love and respect for the medium. Those guys have done more for the industry than every hater who is talking shit combined.

Be you a new fan who brought your first comic today or a superstar creator in the industry for 40 years jumping on a bandwagon of hate, bitching about something other than story or art adds nothing and takes away much from an industry already thought of as childish and immature.

I understand and support if attacked then by all means have at it. But piling on a creator because it’s the flavor of the month? It’s that sort of thinking that keeps us Hollywood’s bitch.

The movies making the most money are from our house. But we’d rather bitch about Dan DiDio still running DC than applaud Eric Stephenson, publisher at Image Comics. Eric gave the greatest comic book speech since Stan Lee told Peter Parker that with great power comes great responsibility.

“I’d like to talk about the future, but first, we’re going to do some time travel, back to a time when there was no Internet, no Twitter, no Facebook, no Instagram. A time when there were no comic book stores.”

That was Eric’s spectacular opening and it got better from there. We should still be talking about it. The industry coverage of that speech?

Almost none. Perhaps if Eric had started his speech with the following, we would still be talking about it.

“I’d like to talk about the future, but first, we’re going to do some time travel, back to a time Dan DiDio wasn’t screwing up DC, Marvel didn’t suck, and there was no Dark Horse because there shouldn’t be any damn Dark Horse.”

Yep, we’d still be talking about that.

I believe, and I could be wrong its love that motivated the modern comic book industry. We live in an age where artists and writers have become publishers and owners; love guided them in, and it’s that love that’s been forgotten.

The love my mother showed by indulging my comic book passion became clearer to me during those two weeks with her. She explained how happy my reading made her and happier still when comics lead me to art. No easy thing to co-sign for a woman raising two kids by herself in the projects.

The Jon Cnagy; learn to draw art set was an early art gift from Jean. Soon I graduated to Dr. Martin’s 16 color starter kit, black bound sketch books and about a thousand Rapidograph pens. Not essentials by any means but my mother made sure if I wanted something for my artwork I had it.

A career in art wasn’t on the list of jobs that would lift you out of the ghetto. But it was all part of the plan to keep me off the streets and alive. Comics lead me to art which brings me to apprentice in my cousin’s studio which leads to a career in professional art.

I once loved my profession with a passion, now not so much and that just fucking sucks. I can use as much love as I can get these days, hell who couldn’t?

Like I said, I think it is love that’s missing from our industry. Love of our craft, love of our history and most importantly a love of ourselves.

No idea how to fix it, but somehow I’d very much like to get back to feeling about comics the way I did when I teased my mother. The way Len, Stan, Paul, Marv, Eric and yes Dan still talk about comicsL with love and hope for the future.

Bitch and moan all day about the work that’s the right of anyone who buys comics. That right does not extend to slandering, threatening or spreading rumor as fact, leave that to the Donald.

While many in the industry continue to turn on each other, some even creating another tempest of hatred once the last storm has lost the wind that propelled it Len Wein just writes another story creates another character all done without a hateful word towards his fellow creators.

That’s not to say Len can’t create a storm. He has. She’s in the X-Men.

Michael Davis: Cosplay & Vampires & The Brotherman Revelation

comicmix2day

Most may think my creative output over the last few years has been little more than bitching about that company that must not be named. Not true. Not true at all.

I have been busy creating some of the best work of my career…only to have them stolen.

Stolen I say! Taken from me by those who have duped you all into thinking it was they who created such masterworks.

My first creation, the Overstreet Guide to Cosplay says on the cover it was written by Melissa Bowersox, Eddie Newsome and Carrie Wood.

Ha! I say ha! I’ve been cosplaying since I was a young boy growing up in the south back in the 1930s. I remember when I came up with the idea to cosplay; I was around oh I don’t know some age when I said out loud; “I have invented cosplay.”

Melissa Bowersox, Eddie Newsome and Carrie Wood were walking by the Trump Plantation where my family had worked for decades teaching the Trumps’ real estate at just that very moment.

They heard me and started being nice to me. They picked my brain of all my cosplay knowledge and once I told them I was going to write a book they made sure I told no one but them of my brilliance. And brilliant it is! With well over 200 pages of just about anything and everything you want to know about my invention, Melissa Bowersox, Eddie Newsome and Carrie Wood have stolen. A great book indeed!

Alas, I wish I could say they were the only people who ripped me off but, no, my genius has been pilfered yet again!

While vacationing in Cuba in the 1950s after realizing the mistake my family made teaching the Trumps real estate (which we only did as a way to teach them to read), it occurred to me I should create a black superhero that would set the standard for all black superheroes.

I was some age at the time and remembered, first I would create the “graphic novel,” then I would create Brotherman, then I would combine them using my talent to write, draw and color.

I did so and the result was Brotherman Revelation.

This massive volume contains a long awaited return to Big City and continues the saga stolen from me by Dawud Anyabwile, Guy A. Sims and Brian McGee. I can’t tell you how I trusted those three believing them when I was told they just wanted to “…hear what I had in mind…”

What I had in mind was a graphic novel truly worthy of the the medium and I achieved it only to have it ripped away from me as if I had nothing whatsoever to do with it!!

They cleverly waited 50 plus years to release my work under their names. My original work was set to be published in 1954 but was not to be. The House Un-American Activities Committee prevented my ground breaking work by blacklisting me!!

So hurt was I by this it took me until 2016 when I was this age to once again venture into my creative mind. But this time I would be smart. This time I would tell some friends my idea and they would work with me to protect it!

So, I created A Vampire in Hollywood! An incredible romp through the world of Alanna Wolff and Jeff Byrd lawyers to monsters! Genius! I know, I’m a genius!

This time I’m going to get my due! I told no one but Batton Lash and Jackie Estrada…

Michael Davis On Being Loud and Smart

Milestone Founders May 2011

Some weeks ago a Hilton manager made a very big mistake. Once Hilton Corporate realized who and what they were dealing with, I was asked what I wanted. This question, always asked in situations where litigation is an option, is a ploy devised to test you. Your answer determines their resolve, your intelligence and rather or not a hotel offers you $50.00 off your next stay or $50 million for you to go away.

Back in the early 2000s two people swore I was at the DC booth during the San Diego Comic Con loudly calling DC racist. So loud and vulgar was my purposive verbal assault the result was to kill a merchandising deal I had with Warner Bros. Consumers Products.

I don’t want to give the impression DC Comics acted against me as a collective in a conspiracy to take me down. They did not. It was a different time and they were a different company and shit like this was handled a different way.

DC Comics is and was under no obligation to be in business with me. It was and still is their house. Almost a decade before the SDCC “incident” I joined Denys Cowan, Derek Dingle, Christopher Priest and Dwayne McDuffie in setting up shop at that house. The original Milestone deal with DC was considered groundbreaking and it was. It was also terrible for Milestone.

Except for editorial, every move inside and outside comics DC had to approve. I didn’t sign that deal, that deal was as crazy as some say I am. I can’t prove I’m not crazy. I could prove I was in NYC the morning I was supposed to have been that nigger at SDCC. Whoever wanted to set me up looked at the SDCC program and surmised I was still in town because I was listed as a guest on a Sunday panel.

Amateurs. Fucking amateurs.

Consequently, when it became clear the loud mouth person who loudly called DC, racists, wasn’t me (or even existed) once again I was asked “What do you want?” What did I want? I wanted black kids to play with a Static Shock action figure.

“I just want the deal reinstated.” Easy, right? No harm no foul. All is good in the world, right?

It wasn’t, because DC said no.

Why on earth kill a deal that would generate revenue? Brand Milestone and DC in the black ad space? Create an action figure based on the mega hit TV show Static Shock? Certainly spark a lawsuit? Last and most important to me, give kids of color a hero to play with? Who knows? I never got an answer, but my top guesses are:

1) Because they could. It was their house. I was loud.

2) That was then, now Milestone has another deal at DC and again they don’t want me.

3) I’ve been loud. I am loud. I’ll be loud.

Some at DC or even Milestone may have floated the rumor that I can’t be vetted for future business when asked to explain my absence. Saying my loud persona and profanity-laced opinions will drive serious business away.

That’s just plain silly. Those profanity-laced opinions have been very very good to me. In fact, they have been very very good to every single Milestone partner past and present.

Then there’s the matter of my resume, my resume doesn’t add value?

Negros, please.

Combined, the Milestone partners have not reached the markets or generated the revenue in comics I have by myself.

Here’s reality. Until revealed otherwise, Milestone’s core business is comic books. Without Diamond (via DC) they have no distribution outlet. My distribution for my educational imprint, The Action Files, reaches American schools via Pearson Learning. Pearson, the biggest educational publisher on earth, likes very much what I have done. My Guardian Line imprint has direct distribution into African American churches that additionally gives me direct access into the black household via Urban Ministries Inc.

UMI is king in the Black Christian space. Think Diamond but with its own comic book line.

My relationship with Pearson is in its 20th year and I just celebrated my 10th year with UMI.

Combined that’s 30 years of cash, resources, brand building and maintainable customers Marvel, Dark House, Image, IDW and DC would love to have.

Pearson Learning matters. Urban Ministries matters. Simon & Schuster matters. Those are no joke playa’s. The moment it was suggested DC come in as a possible partner, (and it always does) out DC went as a possible partner. Nothing bad was said, all I said very quietly was “no.”

Those deals were and are my house.

How’s that for loud?

The church is the most powerful force in Black America. Milestone’s distribution into the very market Denys created Milestone for was assured when I was in the mix. I didn’t need Diamond or DC to reach the educational or black market on a grand scale nor did I need Milestone. And as evidenced by their actions, they clearly think they don’t need me.

But they do, to get into the African American space directly on this scale, they most certainly do.

Only an idiot would dismiss those markets willingly without as much as a word as to why. It doesn’t take a genius to know those guys are not idiots.

No, there is another play here.

They do need me, they just don’t want me. Something is brewing and they see a problem with my involvement. Could some guy still hate me and have sway over at DC? Could that be the reason?

Maybe.

I could see that but just how much of a little bitch would you have to be to let that be a factor? Nah, there’s s something else, something big that negates comics and uses a different gage to reach African Americans.

The play? I’m thinking TV & film.

Or maybe it’s a Milestone partner who thinks I’m too loud and causes to much trouble. Happened 23 years ago; why couldn’t it happen again? Makes sense right?

Here’s the problem with that argument I don’t cause trouble. When that shit was pulled then I ended up running Motown Animation and Filmworks and Milestone jus… ended.

Trouble kills deals, I close deals. Trouble loses money, I generate revenue. Trouble drives away talent, I find and nurture talent.

Now what about being loud? What about my language? Ok, let’s say I’m loud. So fucking what?

Name a black creator or any creator who has worked harder and contributed more than I to bring people of color into comics. Not inspired it, or talked about it or sold a series of books marketed for it. Name any creator with an educational imprint (not book, imprint) at two major mainstream publishers and another at a Christian publisher.

I’ll wait.

…and SCENE!

That rant is just a few high and mighty “look I’m great” and some “so fucking what” thrown for my hard core fans. Think of my stuff like an old Marvel or DC comic after a while you wonder where the fight is. I’m sure some were wondering where all the ‘fucks’ were.

DC wrote me a check which covered my lawyer and little else. That’s what I wanted when it became clear DC would rather risk a massive lawsuit than give me back my deal.

I was livid and was about to bring the noise when I realized something. The two Warner Bros. people who brought me into the deal were at a real risk of losing their jobs. So, to protect them I settled for little of nothing. As a result, nothing is what happened with Mattel and others.

Yeah, I am loud. That’s so people hear me. I have a singular goal, reach as many kids of color and help them realize their worth. What I absolutely will not do is play stupid when faced with stupidity and because of such some see me as a problem after they have used my resources that is, however I’m not the problem. The problem is one Black Hollywood has had for years.

The problem is fear.

Fear of drawing attention to subjects best left alone or risk looking less professional or less white, take your pick. Black Hollywood has arrived in comics and with it the pursuit of the dollar above all else.

Milestone has closed ranks to avoid or minimize a lawsuit, but they can’t. Nobody can. Can they win? Can I? Winning a lawsuit at this level really comes down less on who’s right and more on who’s willing to go to the wall screaming; “I don’t give a fuck” and has deeper pockets.

I’ve been told Milestone is under the impression my resources are limited which is why I won’t sue. They arrived at that notion I assume because I haven’t sued. I’ve also made no secret I don’t care about money so I must be broke.

I don’t care about money. That’s true, however, the banks that hold my mortgages won’t take food stamps nor will any other lender or service. Membership does have its privileges until you miss a payment. All that said, I can’t compete with the kind of bank the Milestone partners would bring to the table, not even close.

Could I sustain a lawsuit with my current resources? I’d wager better than they could. How so? Because my hourly billing from one of the most feared law firms in the world is a hug as my representation is free. I’ve always said I know good people it just so happens I’m related to some also and the firm believes in her and she believes in me.

So I could go to the wall screaming “I don’t give a fuck” but as evident by my actions that I do give a fuck. I didn’t sue DC, I didn’t sue the Hilton when I had them dead to rights some weeks ago and I’m not suing Milestone. I don’t operate on that level. The only benefit would be to me. Black kids wouldn’t be reached but I’d be able to buy some more shit I don’t need. I don’t need any more shit in my life, I needed a call from three guys but that ain’t happening.

I’ve reached out to Milestone 2.0 from day one of this bullshit; still not a word. So, I’m done. Except for an interview I’ve asked be held up on the off-chance I’d hear something, this will be my last public statement about Milestone.

I’ll go my way and they will go their way. Pity, another riff between two black playas. No wonder we can’t win at this game, seldom are we on the same side.

There will be those who believe me a fool for taking this stance, well that may be true. It’s also true that without Paul Levitz there would be no Milestone. Paul and I butted heads, but the fact remains: no Paul no Milestone. It would be easy to change that narrative for personal gain.

Reggie Hudlin has wanted to be part of Milestone since Day One and I’ve defended him against claims he just jumped on the bandwagon after Dwayne died. No Paul, no Milestone. Reggie down since Day One – that’s the truth and that’s what I say.

My Milestone history is written down and public. Once completely co-signed by Milestone now (no doubt fear of litigation) it’s being rewritten. That is a bad move. A very bad move, because I will go to the wall screaming about that. Both the talent program and the Static Shock Universe were created by me and like everything I write I can prove.

The thought of having to do so is sickening and was 23 years ago when I gave Milestone a gift. It was sheer stupidity that turned that gift into a lost.

I’m not motivated by much these days in fact my Bad Boy Studios and Static Shock family legacy may be all I give a fuck about. Keep the fucking money; leave my mother and sister my mother and sister.

23 years ago I foretold what would transpire and I was right. I see this future also and wish it was not to be but it already is. Like I said, pity.

I still want Milestone to succeed. I would still help them do so but I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not.

What I am help create it, who I am won’t help destroy it.

Milestone Forever.