Author: Mindy Newell

Mindy Newell: A Psychic and a Bunch Of Spies

Spy Vs Spy

Allison Dubois (Patricia Arquette): It’s 9:00. How am I supposed to know you’re OK? How do I know you’re not lying dead somewhere? • Joe Dubois (Jake Weber): If something had happened, somebody would’ve called. If I were dead, who are we kidding, you’d be the first to know. • Medium, NBC and CBS, 2005 – 2011

She sees dead people.

From January 2005 until January 2011, Patricia Arquette played the role of Allison DuBois, wife, mother, would-be lawyer, and Medium to the Phoenix District Attorney Office. Brought to television life by Glenn Gordon Caron, who had also developed and produced Moonlighting, the show that kicked off Bruce Willis’ career – the show was based on the story and exploits of real-life psychic investigator Allison DuBois, a Phoenix native who worked as an intern for the city’s D.A. and who wrote a book called Don’t Kiss Them Good-bye.

I’m not here to argue the truth of (the real) Ms. DuBois’s ability – though I have a very, very dear friend whom I believe definitely has a “gift” – but just to tell you how much I loved the series when it first ran and which I recently discovered available on Amazon Prime.

Patricia Arquette, who won just about every award possible for her 2014 performance as the mother in Richard Linklater’s Boyhood, is one of those actress whom I will watch in anything she does – from the first time I saw her in an episode of Thirtysomething to her turn as an aging prostitute in a 2012 episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit – because she is, im-not-so-ho, a natural actress, inhabiting her roles so thoroughly that I (and you) forget it’s a performance.

The charm of Medium, aside from the series’ science-fiction/fantasy genre elements, is that it also belonged to another popular television genus – the family drama. It wasn’t just about Allison DuBois’ crime-busting extrasensory abilities furrowing out the bad guy of the week, but also about her families, both personal and workplace, their traumas, their joys, and their lives; I think that Medium’s success was based on its “ensemble” approach to telling its stories, so that even those who avoided anything even hinting of “supernatural” or “magical” watched it. Like Buffy, it was a story about life

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” • Michael Corleone, 1990

Tonight, as I write this, is Sunday and so it is the second episode of the fifth season of Homeland. So I can’t talk about that because I haven’t seen it yet. But the premiere:

It’s two years (in Homeland time) since Carrie Mathison (Claire Danes) made a mess of being station chief in Pakistan. She has left the CIA, and is working for a German millionaire philanthropist as his security consultant. Yes, we are in Berlin, everybody. On the surface everything seems fine for the bi-polar ex-spy: she is a happy working mom – Frannie, Brody’s daughter, is with her; she is in a stable relationship and living with her lover – uh, oh, first clue the past isn’t really in the past: the guy looks an awfully lot like Nicholas Brody, with reddish hair and a beard; and she’s even a frequent-flyer at church.

Uh-oh, second clue the past isn’t really in the past: Carrie’s boss wants to go to Lebanon to see what he can do to help all the refugees fleeing from Afghanistan, Syria, and Iraq (just to mention a few fucked-up states in crisis mode). Like Lebanon is the most stable country.

And meantime, two “accidental” hackers into the CIA’s server have discovered that the “Company” has been illegally spying on German citizens for Germany, since that country’s strict constitutional privacy laws prevent that kind of “homeland” surveillance.

Uh-oh, third clue the past isn’t really in the past: A free-lance journalist tries to show Carrie these classified printouts, wanting to get her affirmation about them before the journalist publishes them–although Carrie refuses on the grounds that it would break her “exit-interview” agreement with the CIA to not get involved in any way with “Company” matters. (The journalist says she’s going to publish them whether or not Carrie can verify that they really do belong to the CIA.)

There are a lot more clues, the groundwork has been laid; Saul and Dar Adal are in Germany to address the hacking and Germany’s response, and so is Quinn, still doing what he does best – killing and blowing up things, which he’s been doing for the last two years all over the Middle East, with the sanction of the CIA.

But now he has been “officially” cut loose. And like Jim Phelps in Mission Impossible, if he is “killed or captured, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.”

But I think that Peter Quinn still wants out. And that Carrie wants back in.

I think it’s going to be like the old strip in Mad Magazine:

Spy vs. Spy

Mindy Newell: B’more Of All That You Can Be

Frank_zappa_doberanThere is a saying in Baltimore that crabs may be prepared in fifty ways and that all of them are good. • H.L. Mencken

“There is only so far that you can push people into a corner… We’re frustrated and that’s why we’re out there in the streets.” • Charles, Member of the Crips gang

“I would never want to live anywhere but Baltimore. You can look far and wide, but you’ll never discover a stranger city with such extreme style. It’s as if every eccentric in the South decided to move north, ran out of gas in Baltimore, and decided to stay.” • John Waters, Filmmaker and Writer

“This is a skewed portrayal of the protests; it is what the media chose to portray – the media that consumers bewilderingly seem to want. The real revolution is thousands of people across America standing in solidarity against police brutality. The real revolution is youth activists using their voices and their fearlessness to fight for the future of their generation. The real revolution is people of different races walking through the streets of inner city Baltimore, arms locked, chanting ’All night, all day, we will fight for Freddie Gray.’” Leah Eliza Balter • Student, Baltimore Community College, Op-Ed in the Baltimore Sun

Detective William Moreland (Wendell Pierce): I’m just a humble motherfucker with a big-ass dick. Detective Lester Freamon (Clarke Peters): You give yourself too much credit. Moreland: Okay then. I ain’t that humble. • The Wire, HBO

Guess what?

This isn’t a column about the Baltimore Comic-Con!

Yeah, I didn’t make it down to Baltimore. I’ve never been there. I’ve never been to Camden Yards, where the Baltimore Orioles play, or the Ravens’ M & T Stadium. I’ve never been to Fort McHenry, where soldiers prevented the invasion of Baltimore by British troops during the War of 1812, which inspired Francis Scott Key to write The Star-Spangled Banner, which became our national anthem in 1931(!) – I thought it was much older than that, as our national anthem I mean. But I have driven through the Fort McHenry Tunnel – according to the Maryland State Government website, the largest underwater highway tunnel, as well as the widest vehicular tunnel ever built by the immersed-tube method – on my way to Washington, D.C. I’ve never been to Pimlico to watch the Preakness States, the second lap of the Triple Crown – although I remember watching Secretariat on television as he came out of the gates in last place to take the lead by the first turn and win by 2½ lengths like some impossible super-horse out of legend made real.

I never went to the Maryland Film Festival, held in Baltimore each May, but I do know that Meg Ryan’s character in Sleepless in Seattle, Annie Reed, lived in Baltimore. One of my favorite films is Avalon, directed by Barry Levinson, who grew up in Baltimore, and is part of his “Baltimore” film series, which also includes Diner (another favorite of mine), which every football fan – including me – remembers as the movie in which Steve Guttenberg, as “Eddie,” tells his fiancée that he will not marry her unless she can pass a quiz about his beloved Baltimore Colts, the team that, as every football fan knows, absconded in the middle of the night on March, 1984 to Indianapolis, causing a flood of 911 calls and emergency room visits by apoplectic fans of the iconic team that was one of the founding members of the NFL team. Then in 1996 the Cleveland Browns – another iconic NFL team – did the same thing to its city and fans, packing up and moving to become the AFC’s Baltimore Ravens.

And speaking of Baltimore football, I was only five years old but I remember going with my dad to The Greatest Game Ever Played, when the Colts played the New York Giants – my team! – at Yankee Stadium for the 1958 NFL Championship. The game went into sudden death overtime, something that had never happened before in a playoff situation. Final score: Baltimore by 6 points over the Giants, 23–17.

I don’t come from Baltimore, but Babe Ruth did. As did Edgar Allan Poe. So did Eubie Blake. And Frank Zappa. And Billie Holiday. And Mama Cass. John Waters and the aforementioned Barry Levinson are Baltimore natives. So is Ed Burns. Politically speaking, Spiro Agnew and Alger Hiss are Baltimore natives. So is Nancy Pelosi, but I didn’t want to list her with Agnew and Hiss.

Who is Ed Burns? To answer a question with a question, remember Detective John Munch? Played by actor Richard Belzer, he was a pivotal character on the Baltimore-set series, Homicide: Life on the Streets, which ran for seven seasons on NBC, won numerous awards, and was co-created by Burns, a Baltimore homicide detective and public school teacher. He and his writing partner, David Simon, used city again in two more series, both on HBO: The Corner, and The Wire.

Unbelievably, The Wire never won any awards; but the show was a critics’ and fans’ darling, and hailed as one of the greatest dramas every to appear on television. Simon said of it: “[It’s] really about the American city, and about how we live together. It’s about how institutions have an effect on individuals. Whether one is a cop, a longshoreman, a drug dealer, a politician, a judge or a lawyer, all are ultimately compromised and must contend with whatever institution to which they are committed.”

Baltimore. Also known B’more. And Smalltimore. More macabre nicknames are Bodymore, Murdaland, and Mobtown. But it’s also been called Charm City, The City of Firsts, Crab Cake Capitol of the World, The City That Reads, Clipper City, Monument City, and The Greatest City in America.

As a New Yorker, I take issue with that last one.

But what the hell…

B’more, I’ll see you next year.

Mindy Newell: Two Doctors Walked Into A Bar….

Porky In WackylandClara Oswald (Jenny Coleman): “We’re not a team.” Missy (Michelle Gomez): “Of course we are! Every miner needs a canary.” • The Witch’s Familiar, Doctor]. Who, Episode 2, Season 9 • Written by Steven Moffat • Directed by Hettie Macdonald

It was the Missy and Clara show on Saturday night on BBCAmerica.

Yep, the second episode of Season 9 of Doctor Who – The Witch’s Familiar – was a classic “buddy” movie writ large within the parameters of the Whovian universe, a twist on Thelma and Louise with Michelle Gomez and Jenna Oswald brilliantly playing off of each other like a well-oiled comic team of old (Abbot and Costello, Martin and Lewis, George and Gracie) – with a dollop of sociopathic menace and Dalekian evil plans thrown in for good measure.

And how disturbing was it when Clara was inside the Dalek? Talk about a callback! I was waiting for her to say, “Run, you clever boy. And remember me.” Which makes me ask: Does Clara have any memory at all of her previous lives?

Yes, a crackin’ good episode, I would even say fantastic, except for one thing:

No more sonic screwdriver?

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo!!

Yes, Peter Capaldi looks absolutely kewwwwwl in those “Googlized” Ray-Bans, not to mention devastatingly handsome, but the sonic screwdriver is as iconic in the Doctor Who universe as is the TARDIS. But I shouldn’t be worrying, right? Probably the Doctor reclaimed his screwdriver after he “Exterminate[d]!” the Handmines and took li’l Davros home.

Yeah, those Handmines. Another brilliantly creepy concept there; and another callback to the scarily intimate power of touch in Doctor Who – the Weeping Angel taking hold of River Song’s hand in The Angels Take Manhattan, and Clara herself being the “thing” under the bed who grabs the ankles of the crying boy who will grow up to become the “bloke with a box.”

“Ben Carson Says He’d Consider Religion As Probable Cause For Searches on ABC News This Week with George Stephanopoulos • 12:01 P.M. September 27, 2015 • Samantha Page • ThinkProgress.com

I read Martha’s column (New and Diverse) and clicked on the link about DC Comics. It’s really, really sad that “affirmative action” or “positive discrimination” or whatever the hell you want to call it is still needed. I have just a few questions:

Not withstanding would-be professionals showing their wares at conventions to the editors of DC, how will an editor know what the pigmentation of the skin is of the person who sent in that utterly terrific story submission with examples of dialogue or art boards of totally beautiful sequential art? Are they just going to come out and ask, “What color are you?” before they offer any work, or at the least, an appointment to meet?

And isn’t that illegal?

Not to mention kinda insulting?

It reminds me of when you go to interview for a job, and you have to fill out one of those “non-discrimination” or “census” or whatever the hell they’re for – the U.S. Department of Labor? – papers where you’re asked to check off your gender and race – and Jesus Christ, people! When the hell are we going to stop using that word? We are all one race! If we weren’t, we wouldn’t be able to make babies with each other! A simple biological fact! If the Department of Labor, or the U.S. Census Bureau has to classify people, why can’t they use ethnicity instead of that word?!

Anyway, every time I fill out one of those things I think of quotas. Like the ones colleges and universities used to have for Jews. My uncle was not able to get into medical school because of his religion, until the University of Arkansas made him a deal – if he could get to the University by a certain date, because they suddenly had an “opening,” they would have a seat for him in the medical school. The date was only 24 hours away, and they obviously thought they were getting away with something, because how could a boy in the middle of the Depression make it from Bayonne, NJ to Fayetteville, Arkansas in one day? But my Uncle Ruby packed up and “rode the rails” with the hobos down to the South overnight – the admission board sure musta split a gut when he showed up on their doorstep, and, yes, they kept their promise.

Yeah, so whenever I fill out that paper I feel a bit suspicious – “What do they want to know for? Because I’m white and a woman and 60-going-on-61 am I going to be disqualified on the account of skin color, gender or age. Yes, all of you young’uns, ageism is out there, and it’s waiting for you. It’s the one discrimination nobody can avoid – if you live long enough.

Seems like the only thing they don’t ask is your religion.

But the way things are going in this country, I wouldn’t be surprised if that shows up, too. The way some of these Repugnantcan Presidential candidates talk, their wet dream is that the UnitedSA will soon be the ChristianSA. To paraphrase Dr. Ben Carson (but not by much): “A Muslim will only be President when you take this gun from my cold, dead hands.”

Ahh, what am I worrying about?

Like Sinclair Lewis wrote, “It Can’t Happen Here.”

 

 

Mindy Newell: Wibbly Wobbley Timey Winey Stuff

Doctor Who

As most of us Whovians and ComicMixers know, BBC America became the All Doctor Who All The Wibbly Wobbly Timey Winey Stuff network this past week in honor of the premiere of Season 9 – which, as I write this, airs tonight, Saturday, September 19. So I pretty much kept my TV tuned to channel 101 (the BBC America station on my cable system), except for some episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, Hardball with Chris Matthews – oh, and the first half-hour of the Repugnantican debate on CNN, of which the less I have to say about that sorry affair the better, except that it disgusted me, and I returned to the All Doctor Who All The Wibbly Wobbly Timey Winey Stuff with relief.

So here’s a rundown of my opinions of random episodes in the lives of the Doctor.

Most Heartbreaking

There have been a number of emotion-walloping episodes since the reboot 10 years ago – see below – but The End of Time “had me at hello.” Much of the credit goes to the absolutely smashing and brilliant Bernard Gribbins as Donna Noble’s grandfather, Wilfred Mott; there were so many moments, but two stand out for me: Wilfred’s tearful pleading and urging to the Doctor to kill the Master and save himself – “Now you take this, that’s an order, Doctor. You take the gun, you take the gun and save your life. And please don’t die, you’re the most wonderful man on earth! I don’t want you to die!” – and his final salute to the Gallifreyan at Donna’s wedding.

Don’t worry; of course I’m not ignoring David Tennant. His acting chops came to the fore here, from his rage and bitterness towards Wilfred, the man he had just told he “would be proud if he were my dad” for being the instrument of his end – “Cause you had to go in there, didn’t you? You had to go in there and get stuck, oh yes. ‘Cause that’s who you are, Wilfred. You were always this, waiting for me, all this time…But me…I could do so much more…So much more!…But this is what I get. My reward…But it’s not fair!” – to his last poignant visits, his last literally life-changing gifts to the people who had journeyed with him through this regeneration: Martha and Mickey, Sara Jane, Donna, Captain Jack, and, of course, the woman he loved, the woman he could never have, Rose Tyler. His last encounter with her, that last promise of “I bet you’re going to have a really great year” was both an acknowledgement that, because of WWTWS, for Rose it was just starting, but that for him, it was truly over. And yet… “I don’t want to go.”

Best Exit of a Companion

Or, in this case, companions. The Angels Take Manhattan rated a close second as “Most Heartbreaking,” as Amelia Pond, the “girl who waited,” became the “woman who refused to wait” – “It’ll be fine. I know it will. I’ll be with him like I should be. Me and Rory together.” – grabbed at the chance of a life in the past with the love of her life, her husband, Rory Williams (synchronally speaking, “the man who waited”). Yes, it broke Matt Smith’s Doctor’s hearts, but still she managed to let him know they were okay with no regrets, trying to offer him some comfort and reminding me that she and he were not over, because of all the WWTWS:

“Hello, old friend, and here we are. You and me, on the last page. By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. So know that we lived well, and were very happy. And above all else, know that we will love you, always. Sometimes I do worry about you, though. I think once we’re gone, you won’t be coming back here for a while, and you might be alone, which you should never be. Don’t be alone, Doctor. And do one more thing for me. There’s a little girl waiting in a garden. She’s going to wait a long while, so she’s going to need a lot of hope. Go to her. Tell her a story. Tell her that if she’s patient, the days are coming that she’ll never forget. Tell her she’ll go to sea and fight pirates. She’ll fall in love with a man who’ll wait two thousand years to keep her safe. Tell her she’ll give hope to the greatest painter who ever lived and save a whale in outer space. Tell her this is the story of Amelia Pond. And this is how it ends.”

Hmm, here’s a WWTWS question: Did little Amelia Pond wait so long – 12 years! – because the Doctor was off having adventures with the grown-up Amy and Rory? Was everything that we saw actually a repeat of everything that had already happened?

Best Return of a Companion

Sarah Jane Smith in “School Reunion.” Elisabeth Sladen was my first companion (with Tom Baker), and for me she set the standard – and I believe for everyone who followed her. She broke the mold of what had come before. Rather than transcribe their meeting, here’s the link to the YouTube vid. And in honor of the late Ms. Sladen, here’s a link to her.

As always, YMMV.

Best Introduction of a Companion

Jenna Coleman as Oswin Oswald in “Asylum of the Daleks” – or is that as Clara Oswin Oswald in “The Snowmen” – or is that as Clara Oswald in “The Bells of Saint John?” Yep, it’s “The Impossible Girl,” who has saved the Doctor in all his incarnations since the very beginning, when she guided him to the right TARDIS: “Sorry. But you were about to make a very big mistake. Don’t steal that one; steal this one. The navigation system’s knackered, but you’ll have much more fun.” Here I am proud to announce that I guessed the identity of the Doctor’s (upcoming) new companion in a phone call with Editor Mike, even though you tried to tell me I was wrong, Mr. Gold. Yes, you did. No matter how you try to deny it, it is a fact.

Best Confrontation between the Doctor and the Companion

I’m watching it rerun right now. Clara Oswald, in the penultimate Season 8 episode, “Dark Water,” demands that the Doctor prevent her boyfriend, Danny Pink, from being killed in a car accident, blackmailing him by throwing the keys of the TARDIS, one by one, into the lava pit of an active volcano…sorry, I have to stop writing for a second…

Okay, I’m back.

Best Recurring Character

Make that “Characters,” with an “s.” Im-not-so-ho, the Paternoster Gang: The Silurian lizard lady, Madam Vastra, (Neve McIntosh), her human wife (who masquerades as her maid), Jenny Flint (Catrin Stewart), and the “Mr. Potato Head” Sontaran Strax (Dan Starkey), their butler. Hah! I bet you thought I was going to say River Song.

Runner-up to Best Recurring Character

Jemma Richardson as Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, first seen as UNIT’s (UNified Intelligence Taskforce, nee United Nations Intelligence Taskforce) Head of Scientific Research, and later its Director. Hah! I bet you thought I was going to say River Song.

Bravest Loss of a Supporting Character

Danny Pink, the soldier, killed in a car accident, turned into a Cyberman by Missy, and yet rising above his programming to turn certain defeat into certain victory in “Death in Heaven.”

Saddest Loss of a Supporting Character Runner-Up

Kate Stewart’s assistant, the asthmatic Osgood (Ingrid Oliver), became an instant fan favorite when she was introduced in the 50th anniversary special, “The Day of the Doctor,” sucking down on her inhaler and wearing the Fourth Doctor’s (Tom Baker) scarf, which she either knitted herself or “borrowed” from the archives hidden in UNIT’s Tower of London headquarters. We caught up with her in Season 8’s finale, “Death in Heaven,” in which she’s still sucking down on that inhaler, but now wears the Eleventh Doctor’s (Matt Smith) bow tie – again, she either went out and bought it or “borrowed” it from UNIT’s archives. But our reunion with her was brief, because The Mistress, a.k.a. Missy, The Master’s female incarnation, kills her.

But wait! It has been revealed that Osgood will be back in Season 9! How? Is she really the Zygon impersonator from “The Day of the Doctor,” or will be more WWTWS?

Best The Master

John Simm, especially in his last arc (“The End of Time.”) In his portrayal as the Doctor’s “Professor Moriarty” in “The End of Time,” Simm heartrendingly played to perfection the other side of the poor, wrecked mind of The Master; we got a glimpse of “what might have been.” Instead, it was revealed that The Master was a pawn of the Time Lord President Rassilon (Timothy Dalton) – who was responsible for the drumbeat in The Master’s head that drove him mad and onto the path of his many lives. Sorry, Missy fans, she’s okay, but I’m just not that into her.

Best Season Finale

“Death in Heaven.” Im-not-so-ho, this one had everything. Life and death, hope and resignation, love and hatred. There were final reunions and final sacrifices. And a season-long question was answered – “Am I a good man?” But the best part? Brigadier Sir Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart finally got that salute from the Doctor.

Mindy Newell: The United States of Theocracy

wonder_woman

I am angry.

Just finished reading School Daze, Martha’s latest column.

I clicked on her last link.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Everybody knows about Kim Davis, but how many of you know about Charee Stanley, the United Airlines ExpressJet flight attendant who refuses to serve alcohol because she is a Muslim? The problem was handled a while by the other flight attendants who shared flights with Ms. Stanley; they served the drinks while Ms. Stanley did other duties. But eventually another employee filed a complaint, and ExpressJet suspended Ms. Stanley (administrative leave for 12 months without pay) for not fulfilling her expected duties; if there is no satisfactory resolution by the end of that time period, Ms. Stanley will be terminated. She has filed a complaint with the EEOC (Equal Opportunity Commission).

Newsflash, people. The United States of America is not a theocracy.

So the simple answer to Kim Davis and the flight attendant is “Get another job.”

But is it so simple?

Aside: Though my gut reaction is to say, “yeah, it is simple, get another job,” I was born on the cusp of Libra, (Justice) and Scorpio, (The Scorpion). So although my gut reaction, my stinger, is to say, “yeah, it is simple, get another job,” my intellect is constantly balancing the scales.

What if a superhero refused to do his or her job because of religious reasons? I have previously stated that I believe that Wonder Woman, for all her stature as a modern feminist icon, is firmly in the anti-abortion, pro-life camp, owing to her own miraculous birth on an island where the usual biological procreation of children is impossible, and has been since the Amazons arrived on Themiscrya. How conflicted would Princess Diana be in upholding Roe vs. Wade? Very, I think.

And let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Kitty Pryde has become shomer Shabbat, which in modern lingo means a Jew who has “returned,” after living an assimilated or non-practicing life, to following the commandments honoring the Sabbath and God as laid down in the second book of the Torah (Deuteronomy), i.e., an Orthodox Jew. Would Kitty be right in refusing to aid the other X-Men in a fight against the Brood if it happened to be a Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath, or Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year in Judaism, spent in fasting and prayer?

Uh, actually, no. The preservation of life, the act of preserving life, is, in fact, the most important principle of Judaism superseding all others and all commandments. “The Mishna says: “’Whenever a human life is endangered, the laws of the Sabbath are suspended’. The more eagerly someone goes about saving a life, the more worthy he is of praise.” (The Babylonian Talmud, tractate Yoma, page 84b)

So what’s the answer?

I don’t know, but I’m glad I live in a country in which Amendment I of the Constitution states that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”

And I’m glad I live in a country in which Article III, Section 1 of the Constitution says that “The judicial Power of the United States shall be vested in one supreme Court…”

Despite what Mike Huckabee says.

Mindy Newell: Labor and Comics

LaborLabor Day. It sounds like a day when we all should be out there laboring our asses off – or, if you’re an expectant mom, the day you give birth. (Now that’s labor!) Instead, it’s a national holiday on which we all un-labor.

The United States Department of Labor defines the holiday as “Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.”

There’s no mention of the bloody Chicago Haymarket Square Riot on May 4, 1886, or of the Pullman strike in that same city almost exactly eight years later, or of the appalling conditions in which ordinary workers, i.e., laborers, had to struggle to make a living wage. Three-day weekends? Are you kidding me? As the Dowager Countess (Maggie Smith) of Downton Abbey asked, “What’s a weekend?” Not only were there no weekends, there were no 40-hour weeks, no overtime, and no benefits. The unionization of industries was looked upon as a plot of anarchists, communists, socialists, and “foreigners” intent on destroying the fabric of American society.

It wasn’t until 1935 and the National Labor Relations Act that the right to organize and bargain collectively, i.e., to unionize, for better wages, hours, and working conditions, especially the safety of employees, had the bulwark of the U.S. government behind it. But immediately corporations en masse fought against the Act – which was progressively weakened until, in 2009, the corporate community used modern media tools and millions upon millions of dollars to create new lobbies, with “New Speak” names like the Workplace Fairness Institute and the Coalition for a Democratic Workplace. The bottom line is that these national lobbies and individual state “right-to-work” laws have effectively killed unions in this country–which claimed that any legislation protecting the right of unions to exist would take away workers’ right to vote for or against unionization in a secret ballot.

And then there’s outsourcing…a product of President Bill Clinton’s North American Free Trade Act (NAFTA). Everybody knows that the manufacturing industry has fled the United States. Basically, the corporations said, “if you can’t join them, fuck ‘em,” and moved their operations to countries where:

  • The minimum wage is $3.00/hr;
  • There are no child labor laws;
  • The work week is expanded to whatever the corporation decides;
  • Health and safety laws are non-existent;
  • Unions are banned; and
  • Environmental protection laws do not exist.

So. What does all of this have to do with comics? Well, there was an effort to unionize, back in 1978.

In that year, a group of then A-list writers and artists banded together as the Comics Creators Guild – which is sort of like a union, but for freelancers who are given work but not on an on-going basis. Led by Neal Adams, the group included Cary Bates, Howard Chaykin, Chris Claremont, Steve Ditko (which I admit is surprising to me since he was a follower of Ayn Rand’s Objectivism), Michael Golden, Archie Goodwin, Paul Levitz, Bob McLeod, Frank Miller, Carl Potts, Marshall Rogers, Jim Shooter, Walt Simonson, Jim Starlin, Len Wein, and Marv Wolfman.

Janelle Asselin of Comics Alliance wrote on May 11, 2015, “One of the things the group did was put together a list of recommended rates for publishers.” These rates were (and thanks to Janelle and Comic Book News for this):

Fees for First North American Publication Rights

  • Art Work, per page: $300.00
  • Script, per page: $100.00
  • Lettering, per page: $40.00
  • Coloring, per page: $70.00

Fees for foreign first publication rights were to equal 25% of the first North American publication rights, and fees for reprints would be 50% of the first North American publication rights. In addition, any work used in licensing agreements would result in payment to the “talent” equal to the first North American publication rights.

Janelle wrote, (and thanks for doing the math, Janelle!) that adjusted for inflation, these rates would be $1080.00 for artists, $360.00 for writers, $144.00 for letterers, and $252.00 for colorists. I am assuming that these are “entry-level” rates, by the way.

I remember talking about the Comics Creators Guild with Paul Levitz and Marv Wolfman when I worked at DC in the 80s; I never really understood why it failed, except that perhaps it is because that, on the whole, creative types are ornery loners. And that there are – despite the growth of other markets and web comics and independent press – still hosts of eager-beaver young talents willing to accept pittance and give up any rights to their work in order to write, draw, letter and color Marvel and DC’s four-color heroes. Still, Hollywood, that bastion of creativity in America (say that with a smirk on your face) is a union town. In fact, you cannot work in the television and movie industry without a union card, and that includes extras, or a guild membership.

Which led me to this thought:

Now that Marvel and DC are firmly in the land of La-La, perhaps the fact that Hollywood is a union town will influence and lead to today’s (and future) comics creators to form a union that lasts. Or perhaps one of the unions and guilds already established will take them under their wing, such as the Writers’ Guild of America – West.

We’ll see. Because, for at least right now, Hollywood is just about the only place in America where unions still have real power.

Mindy Newell: Late Sunday Night Ramblings

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Went out to dinner tonight – that’s last night now – with Editor Mike, where I discovered that Mr. Gold does not like broccoli rabe. It’s a case of false advertising, people – Mikey, it turns out, does not eat anything. Personally, I think he’s nuts. Give me a plate of broccoli rabe, a loaf of fresh-out-of-the oven crusty Italian bread, a nice Merlot or Pinot Noir, and that’s what I call a meal!

Watched the trailer for Trumbo over the weekend, starring Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad), Ellie Fanning, John Goodman, Diane Lane, Alan Tudyk, Louis C.K., and Helen Mirren, which is hitting theatres in October. One of Hollywood’s greatest screenwriters, Dalton Trumbo’s early credits included Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo and Kitty Foyle. He also wrote the classic anti-war novel, Johnny Got His Gun. In 1947, Trumbo was one of the Hollywood Ten who refused to testify before the House of Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), and so was blacklisted from the movie industry – although he “unofficially” won two Academy Awards – for The Brave One and Roman Holiday – during this period, the first under the pseudonym of Robert Rich, the second through a “front.” It wasn’t until 1960, when Kirk Douglas publicly announced that he had hired Dalton Trumbo to write the screenplay for Spartacus and Otto Preminger went public in revealing that Dalton Trumbo was the true writer of Exodus, that the blacklist started to crack.

When President John F. Kennedy crossed the American Legion picket lines protesting Trumbo’s involvement with Spartacus and entered the theatre to watch the film, the blacklist was over. But it wasn’t until 1993, after the screenwriter had died, that the Academy awarded him an Oscar for Roman Holiday, and it took until 2011 that the Writers Guild of America gave Trumbo full credit for the screenplay.

Bottom line, guys – go see this movie.

Regarding comics, I’m currently reading two with the same title: Strange Fruit. Yes, one of them is the comic that caused all the “hub-bub” a few weeks ago, even though that particular comic was not about Waid and Jones’s work but about political correctness and how I find that offensive, although I admit that got lost in the translation of my thoughts to the keyboard. The other is a graphic collection of, as the sub-title says, Uncelebrated Narratives from Black History. It’s by Joel Christian Gill. Stay tuned for my thoughts about both – political correctness will not be required, nor, do I need to say, should not be expected.

Listening to a soundtrack titled Doctor Who Epic Soundtrack 50th Anniversary Music Mix, which I found on YouTube and was complied by Juan Sam. Big Shout Out!!!!! to this guy. Running two hours and change, it is absolutely fantastic… as the Ninth Doctor would say. I heartily, strongly, robustly urge you to seek this out. Not only is it fabulous to write to – along with a nice buzz from that nice dinner Merlot – but also a tremendous means to get your Whovian mojo up and running for the September 19th premiere of Capaldi’s second season as our favorite Time Lord. And btw, just “Who” is Maisie Williams playing?

The Doctor: You…

Maise Williams’s Character: What took you so long, old man?

Is it possible that she is Susan, the Galifreyan’s granddaughter?

Opinions are welcomed and valued.

I haven’t gotten into any political rants lately, unless you count the “hub-bub” column, and I do have a lot to say about Mr. Trump and Ms. Clinton and Mr. Biden, et. al. But like the title of this column says, it’s late Sunday night and my buzz is wearing off, so it’ll have to wait. Not to worry. I’m sure the shenanigans that we call our elective process will continue to give me lots of fodder in the coming weeks.

See ya!

 

 

Mindy Newell: Old Dog, New Tricks

Super-Pets 1962

My family went to the Turtleback Zoo yesterday – great zoo, by the way, may I suggest a visit if you live anywhere near West Orange, New Jersey – and driving home I thought about the Legion of Super-Pets. A very strange connection to make, but that’s the mysterious way in which my mind works.

You young ‘uns out there (very much) probably don’t know what I’m talking about, but once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, in a time that would come to be called the Silver Age, incredible tales of fantastical dreams and magical possibilities were told – of lost planets, of cities and their populations living inside bottles, of an alien and his doomed love for a mermaid, of traveling through time in a bubble, and of astonishing heroes gifted with the powers of the gods. And among these tales there was the story of these heroes’ pets, a band of animals also gifted with the powers of the gods, who one day saved the planet Earth from the evil Brain-Globes of Rambat.

Okay, I know, a little too much purple prose there for these cynical times.

Created by Jerry Siegel and Curt Swan and first appearing in Adventure Comics #293 (February 1962) – and no, that’s not a Twitter hash tag, kids – the Legion of Super-Pets consisted of Superboy’s dog, Krypto; Supergirl’s cat, Streaky, and her horse, Comet; and Beppo, a Kryptonian chimpanzee who had been the “test pilot” for one of Jor-el’s early trial flights of a rocket before the destruction of Krypton.

The concept of a Legion of Super-Pets could never sell today, unless the innocence of that Silver Age was twisted into something brittle and corrupted, sarcastic and mocking, distrustful and dirty. Krypto gets rabies, kills Superboy, and goes on a mad rampage, finally dying in a horrific epileptic fit caused by the disease. Comet, a pedophiliac centaur turned into a horse by the Goddess Diana when he raped one of her Vestal Virgins, is now ridden by Supergirl instead of him, uh, “riding” her. Streaky is a malevolent cat vomiting up radioactive hairballs all over the Earth. And Beppo hunts down and kills the poachers who killed Dian Fossey.

I actually approve of that last part. Go, Beppo!

It’s actually not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll work on it.

Superboy: “Heel, Krypto.”

*grrr*

Superboy: “I said Heel!”

*snarl*

Superboy: “What the fu–!!!”

Sometimes it’s a little scary, the things my mind comes up with.

Mindy Newell: The Essential Doctor

the_waters_of_mars_by_mitashade

Don’t blink. Blink and you’re dead. They are fast. Faster than you can believe. Don’t turn your back. Don’t look away. And don’t blink. Good Luck. • The Doctor • “Blink,” written by Steven Moffat

Adelaide: But you said we die. For the future. For the human race!

The Doctor: Yes, because there are laws. There are laws of time. Once upon a time there were people in charge of those laws but they died. They all died. Do you know who that leaves? Me! It’s taken me all these years to realize that the laws of time are mine and they will obey me! • The Waters of Mars, written by Russell T. Davies

Like you, John, I’ve been in the midst of the summer doldrums eagerly awaiting the return of new episodes of Marvel’s Agents Of Shield, Downtown Abbey, The Flash and, of course, a certain alien from Gallifrey.

Saturday night I tuned into BBC America to watch the first two episodes of The Doctor’s Finest, the network’s lead-up to the premiere of Peter Capaldi’s second year as the Time Lord, otherwise known as Series 9 of the modern era Doctor Who, or the 52nd year of wibbly wobbly timey wimey…stuff. (A bit more on those five little words a few paragraphs down.)

Hosted by Hannah Hart of My Drunk Kitchen on YouTube, and with “special guests” and “behind-the-scenes” interviews, the next four Saturday nights will feature two “essential” episodes of the Doctor’s story – “essential” in this case meaning that in some very important “essential” way these stories have contributed to the still-evolving mythos of the Whovian universe.

First up was Blink. Here’s a brief synopsis:

2007. In an abandoned house on the outskirts of London, photographer Sally Sparrow – the absolutely terrific Carey Mulligan – finds statures of weeping angels, and an even creepier message hidden under the wallpaper: ‘Sally Sparrow. Beware the Weeping Angel. Love from The Doctor (1969).’ The next day, Sally returns with her friend Kathy Nightingale – who suddenly vanishes. As Sally looks for her in the house, a man delivers a letter addressed to Sally from his grandmother, who has recently died. The grandmother’s name? Kathy Nightingale. And she has a message for Sally.

Meanwhile Kathy’s brother, Larry, who owns a DVD shop, has been tracking down “easter eggs” found in 17 unrelated DVDs, featuring a man with glasses who seems to be having a conversation with the viewer. The man is the Doctor – David Tennant – trapped in 1969 without his TARDIS. And the “easter eggs” are for Sally.

Blink, written by Steven Moffat and based on his short story “‘What I Did on My Christmas Holidays’ By Sally Sparrow” in the 2006 Doctor Who Annual, is essential because it introduces the Weeping Angels, im-not-so-ho the creepiest and scariest of all of the foes and “monsters” ever seen on Doctor Who. They also appeared during Matt Smith’s run as the Doctor in the two-part “The Time of Angels/Flesh and Stone” and, most notably, as the adversaries responsible for the “deaths” of Amelia Pond and Rory Williams in “The Angels Take Manhattan.”

The episode is also the first time we hear five essential words as the Doctor attempts to explain the concept of time to Sally: “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint – it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly…time-y wimey…stuff.”

Blink won the 2007 Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form. Steven Moffat won two BAFTA awards for Best Writer. Carey Mulligan won the Constellation Award for Beset Female Performance in a 2007 Science Fiction Television Award. In 2009, readers of Doctor Who Magazine voted it the second best Doctor Who story ever.

My Saturday night Whovian feast continued with the 2010 special The Waters of Mars, which won the 2010 Hugo for Best Dramatic Presentation, Short Form, and was Russell T. Davies’s last episode as writer/showrunner.

November 21, 2059. The first human colony on Mars, Bowie Base One. The Doctor – David Tennant – is there on this pivotal day in history, when the colony is destroyed in a nuclear blast. But it is precisely this disaster that inspires the granddaughter of the mission’s leader, Captain Adelaide Brooke (Lindsay Duncan), as well as the rest of humanity, to continue their journey into deep space exploration and colonization.

The fixed point in time is an “essential” concept in the Whovian universe – and it is in The Waters of Mars that the Doctor is brutally taught that not even he, the “Victorious Time Lord,” as he refers to himself towards the climatic moment, is capable of changing it.

For it is not precisely the destruction of the colony that is the crucial event, but (SPOILER ALERT) Captain Adelaide Brooke’s death that is the necessary, critical, fundamental and central point – a fixed point in time – on which the future of humanity rests. If she does not die, her granddaughter, Susie Fontana Brooke, will not pilot the first faster-than-light spaceship to Proxima Centauri, nor will her other descendants, nor humanity, follow her into space. And so Adelaide accepts her fate, and confronting the self-congratulatory Doctor who has saved her – “I don’t care who you are…the Time Lord Victorious is ‘wrong’.” – walks into her home and kills herself with her laser gun.

“Your song is ending…he will knock four times.” The Doctor has been running from a prophecy of his death (“Planet of the Dead,” “Planet of the Ood”) as a fixed point in time. This episode (though not “officially” part of the final arc – “The End of Time” – leading up to the regeneration of Tennant into the 11th – I mean the 12th – Doctor, Matt Smith) is essential in its portrayal of Tennant’s Doctor’s dark side.

He is the last of the Time Lords, and in his arrogance he no longer believes that he has to obey the rules. Two rules especially – the first being that he cannot change a fixed point in history, and more important, and more personal, that he must die and regenerate. Just as he refuses to accept the death of Adelaide Brooke and her mission mates, he refuses the prophecy, even going so far as to deliberately electrocute one of the mutated members of the Mars mission to stop him from “knock[ing] four times” on a bulkhead door.

“I don’t want to go.”

But he must.

Time is not just a wibbly wobbley time-y whimey ball of stuff.

Not even for a Time Lord.

And that is the essential lesson.

 

Mindy Newell: Politically Incorrect

Strange FruitSaturday, I met a very nice young man named Moses in my local comic books shop. We got into a conversation about *duh!* comics and he was very frank in stating that he was not buying many DC comics because – and I’m paraphrasing here, since I didn’t happen to have a tape recorder on me – everybody in the office is white so it’s impossible for them to understand the black experience. I told him that I didn’t agree with any part of that, but that is Moses’ perception, and perception is everything. Isn’t it?

Yesterday, I read Marc Alan Fishman’s latest column here at ComicMix, Affirmatively Actionable Comic Equality, in which he referenced J.A. Micheline’s August 4th piece over at Comics Alliance titled Why I’m Boycotting Marvel Comics, which I linked to and read. In her own words:

“Marvel, you and I are taking a break. It’s not me; it’s you – and you made the decision really easy. In the past two to three weeks, I have watched you disrespect and disregard marginalized voices and I’ve had enough.”

Then I Googled “diversity of comics creators” and found an article by Laura Hudson published over at Wired on July 25th of this year: “It’s Time To Get Real About Racial Diversity In Comics.” She writes:

“July in particular has been an interesting month to ponder that question, thanks to a series of recent events that offered a prismatic lens on the complex friction between race and representation in the field. Not only did the Marvel variants spark discussion, but this month, DC Comics announced that Milestone Media – an imprint created by black creators and focusing on black superheroes – would be returning to the larger DC Comics fold, along with most of the black artists and writers who had created it. Meanwhile, Boom! Studios released Strange Fruit, a comic made by a white creative team that dealt with racism in the American South, prompting discussions about when works by white creators are erasing the voices of the people they’re writing about.”

Jon Stewart asked us to do something on his last show: “If you smell something, say something.”

Okay, Jon, I will.

It’s about fucking time that people stopped creating these stupid fucking artificial lines.

To be brutally forthright – and quite politically incorrect – I don’t give a damn what color, what religion, what ethnicity, what nationality, or what sex a creator is.

The only thing I care about when I’m reading a story, the only reason I’m reading it, the only reason I continue to read it, be it comics or prose, is that I’m enjoying it, that I’m sucked in, that I can’t put the goddamn thing down, whether that means reading it at work while on a break, or at home while eating dinner, or reading it on the toilet wherever that toilet may be.

So Strange Fruit, a series about racism in the South, was written and drawn by Mark Waid and J.G. Jones, two white guys. So what? I think they should be applauded for writing about it. I think the premise, about a super-powered alien who looks like a black man in 1927 Mississippi, is great, and I’m putting it on my list to buy. And by the way, Quantum Leap did an episode in the very first season in which Sam jumped into the body of an elderly black man in the pre-Civil Rights South (“The Color of Truth”). Nobody objected that it was produced by a white man and starred two more white men.  

And if a story about racism was so important to you, African-American creators, why didn’t you go out and create it?

Oh, wait. You did.

Maya Angelou. James Baldwin. Octavia Butler. Amiri Baraka. Toni Morrison. Ralph Ellison. Zora Neale Hurston. Lorraine Hansbury. Langston Hughes. Richard Wright. Alice Walker. Alan Paton.

Oh, you mean comics?

Christopher Priest. Michael Davis. Damion Knight. Matt Baker. Reginald Hudlin. Darryl Banks. Denys Cowan. ChrisCross. Kyle Baker. Jamal Igle, Malcom Jones III, Mark (M.D.) Bright. Billy Graham. Keith Pollard. Brian Stelfreeze. Ron Wilson. Larry Stroman.

Dwayne McDuffie.

Okay, what’s wrong with this list?

No women.

But they do exist.

Charlie “Spike” Trotman. Carol Burrell. Barbara Brandon-Croft. Afua (Lakota Sioux) Richardson. Alitha Martinez. Cheryl Lynn Eaton.

Yes, I admit, these women were a little harder to find. And that’s bullshit, too.

Still, obviously, I managed.

You could, too, if you wanted to.

I could write a whole column about that. But then I might be accused of being a white Jewish woman who has no business writing about the black woman comics creator, because, you know, that’s not politically correct.

But if any of these women would like to have a dialogue with me on these pages, you’re very welcome to get in touch with me. In fact, I’ll ask Editor Mike to be our liaison (mike@comicmix.com).

See, I think making it in a profession that is your passion takes talent, sweat, blood, tears, aggravation, patience, aggressiveness, stick-to-it-iveness, and luck.

A whole lot of luck.

The truth is that luck is the goddamnest wild card.

And that’s a truth that is politically incorrect to say out loud.

 

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