Tagged: Mike Gold

Mike Gold: Bite My Twinkie

Some 30 years ago DC and Marvel produced a series of ads featuring their characters (except Superman) in one-page adventures hawking Hostess products. That campaign ran forever, so when we relaunched E-Man at First Comics I thought it would be fun to get people to do Hostess ad parodies featuring their creator-owned characters. John Byrne did Rog-2000, Max Collins and Terry Beatty did Mike Mist, Lee Marrs did Pudge Girl Blimp, Reed Waller did Omaha The Cat Dancer, and so on.

A few years later I was at DC Comics where I edited (interm-ly; Marv Wolfman was moving to the west coast and had some health issues) Teen Titans Spotlight. Mike Baron wrote a story featuring The Hawk (of the original Hawk and Dove) wherein the lead character uttered the epitaph “Bite My Twinkie!” Whereas it was completely in character, one of DC’s top-most executives took great offense at this. In an act of astonishing courage, our young photocopy-kid – who later became a full editor – demanded said executive to point to his Twinkie. That, I felt, was more salacious than Baron’s original line.

Twinkies became a metaphor long ago. Those childhood memories are exceptionally powerful: we all grew up on Twinkies and Ding Dongs and Zingers and those of us who were baby boomers routinely rediscovered that ancient passion around 2 AM after giving the nation of Columbia a boost in their GNP. In fact, Chicago’s hippie district bordered a Dolly Madison thrift shop (before the company was bought out by Hostess) and, to the best of my knowledge, it was the only said thrift shop to have overnight hours. It was a great place to meet up with friends.

So it is no surprise that last week’s sudden closure of Hostess has traumatized so many people. No matter how unhealthy the product was, those childhood attachments more than compensated. Millions of us who hadn’t eaten much of that stuff in the past four decades felt a genuine loss. My daughter is upset about the prospect of having Wonder Bread-less peanut butter sandwiches and she’s right: it will not be the same.

Sure, there’s a handful of Food Nazis who have been quoted as saying “well, now people can eat vegetables and other healthy stuff.” These people are dangerous lunatics. People who think somebody who can no longer procure a Ho-Ho will now reach for broccoli should not be allowed to operate heavy machinery.

We’d like to think that in comics we’ve progressed past the nostalgia connection, and to a certain extent we most certainly have. But the power of those childhood memories is so great that it would be ridiculous to assume they are no longer relevant. I got over the loss of Ipana toothpaste, but our culture is worse off for the absence of Shinola. It is no surprise to me, at least, that we started making “serious” comics movies when those who grew up with comics as a vital part of their childhood lives started working behind the camera.

So when I went to the local Stop and Stop Saturday afternoon and noted how the joint was totally cleared out of Hostess/Drakes/Dolly Madison products, I chuckled. Loudly.

And then I went over to the comics rack to see what was still on sale.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

Michael Davis: The Baron Of Comics

One of the best writers the comic book industry has ever seen is Mike Baron. He created two of the greatest comic book properties ever, Nexus and the Badger. Mike has written for all of the major comic book companies and handled some of the biggest characters in comics. Mike has won two, count ‘em, two Eisners and has been nominated for a slew of awards including a Harvey.

On a personal note, Mike is also one of the few people I’ve given a painting to. That may not be a big deal for you but I don’t give away art so it’s a big deal for me.

Mike is a comic book treasure.

Mike is a fantastic writer.

Mike not only writes comics, he writes kick ass novels.

Mike is also a major pain in the ass.

Yeah, Mike is one persistent pain in the ass motherfucker.

In his role as major pain in the ass, Mike wants me to read two of his latest novels, Helmet Head and Whack Job and has been on me like the KKK on Obama to do so. I have not been able to read them as of yet, just as I have not been able to produce a long promised drawing for a fan, more on that completely unrelated to this article later.

Mike bugs the shit out of me and I take it because Mike is not only a great talent he is a dear friend who I love like a brother. Yes, Mike understands that I’m swamped like a bitch with my workload and understands as much as I’d love to read one of my favorite writers latest work I need the time to do it justice but Mike could give a fuck.

It’s a great problem to have. One of the best writers the industry has ever produced wanting my opinion on his work is so damn cool I pinch myself sometimes at the sheer coolness of it. Yes, I could garb a few hours during the week and fly trough the books but I simply cannot read a Mike Baron story like that.

A Mike Baron story you have to sit and enjoy and if it’s a Mike Baron horror story you have to take the extra step of making sure you are not alone in the house while reading. That’s because it’s a certainty that at some point the story will be so scary and/or brutal you will long for the comfort of human contact.

Clearly it’s not just my lack of time preventing me from reading the two novels it’s all the prep that goes into reading a Baron novel. I just don’t want to read it, I want the time to read, enjoy and prepare for it.

Those are not excuses, they are facts. That persistent pain in the ass motherfucker is that good.

Really.

Mike, I know you are reading this so know this, I plan on reading at least one of your books during the Thanksgiving holiday this week. So stop sending me emails with the subject line; What the fuck are you doing that’s more important than reading my books?

Nothing, Mike. Nothing is more important than reading your books, please no more dead cats nailed to my door.

On a completely unrelated yet somehow I see a parallel so I’m working it in here note, I owe a fan a drawing and I have every intention of doing that drawing but if said fan keeps posting shit on Facebook trying to shame me into doing it then he is in for a rude awakening.

Mike’s not the only guy who can nail a cat. Hell, now that I think of it I’ve nailed quite a lot of pussy in my life…

Blam!!! Rimshot!! I’m here all week! Try the chicken! Read Mike Baron!

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

 

Emily S. Whitten: World of Geekcraft

So if anybody missed it, last weekend I went to Disney World and Universal Islands of Adventure. I hadn’t been to a theme park in a long time, and holy surprise parties, Batman, it was a magical thing. Seriously, I had so much fun riding all the rides and looking at all the theme park details and also, shopping for alllll the things. In fact, ever since I was a little kid I’ve loved going through the gift shops (at theme parks, national parks, whatever) almost as much as the rest of it, and this time was no exception.

The Marvel shops were also no exception, particularly the ones that featured a life sized Iron Man and life-sized Thor, which my friends and I all declared we needed for our living rooms. The one little disappointment I had was, unsurprisingly, that the Marvel stores again had disparate amounts of items available for men and women. For instance, I would have bought this awesome Deadpool “Wanted” poster shirt they had in an instant if they’d had it for women, but nary a good women’s shirt was in sight (just those ones that say, like, “my boyfriend’s a super-hero.” Siiiiigh.) But I’ve focused before on things Marvel needs to improve about its marketing, so I’m not going to rehash that here (except to note this shirt, which was sold in the shops and in which one Avenger is noticeably missing. Why, Marvel??)

Instead, since this weekend I’ve been doing some geeky crafty things, today I want to celebrate all the awesome comics crafts that people are doing, sometimes because they want items that can’t be found in the stores and sometimes because it’s just fun to craft. There are so many of them out there that I’m just going to highlight a few favorites here. Some of them are even available for purchase (oooh) so if you need something for the comics fiend in your life during the upcoming holidays, maybe this will give you some leads.

The first category of comic craft I love is the sort of decoupage style where people take old comics they don’t want and glue them onto items to make cool new things. While I cringe at the idea of destroying comics, these really look cool. My favorites, and something I so need to own myself, are the various comics high heels. A friend of mine has made a couple of pairs which are just awesome, and shares her crafting technique through a video she found that helped her figure things out, and a helpful site with Mod Podge tutorials, Mod Podge being a main material used to put the shoes together. (And speaking of shoes, these are not decoupage style, but check out these Wonder Woman shoes for another awesome way to superhero up your shoes! So pretty!). Other fun comics image things my friend has made include this Captain Marvel purse; and other neat uses of the technique include these G.I. Joe flasks and comic book bracelet cuffs. If this sort of thing strikes your fancy, this Etsy store right here also looks like it has some things that might be up your alley, or, for a bit of variation, there’s this comics paper bead jewelry as well.

 

If seeing cut-up comics makes you cry, here’s another area of crafting that might more suit your fancy: crocheting! There are a lot of fun things geeks do with crocheting, from superhero wrist warmers like these Iron Man cuffs to my favorite thing ever, Dollpool (the Deadpool doll crocheted for me by my friend Amy!). Amy’s amazing at crocheting, and came up with the Dollpool pattern herself (along with Dolliana Jones, Bat-doll, and a Captain Dollmerica in progress). There are also some adorable sewing projects out there, like wee felted Poison Ivy or Batmole, which is geeky times two since it was made for Mole Day (anyone who took Chemistry in high school, I bet you remember doing Mole Day projects too. Wish I’d gotten to make something like this!). The creator of that one linked the mole pattern, if anyone out there wants to try it themselves. And, lest we forget there are a vast number of ways to use needles and thread or yarn, I also wanted to share this amazing glow-in-the-dark Spidey embroidery and this knitted Wonder Woman sweater (with tutorial).

Of course, one of the reasons I love Dollpool is that he’s an adorable doll, and there are plenty of those floating around that aren’t cloth, too. Shockingly, I’ll first link another Deadpool favorite (and admit that I actually own a version of this, because how could I resist??) It is: My Little Ponypool! (One of several custom ponies she’s made.) Or, if you like Japanese-style kokeshi dolls, these adorable Marvel ones caught my eye, and he’s got a bunch of other Marvel and DC dolls as well. And then, of course, there’s Diana the Wonder Kitty D’awwww.

If dolls and figures aren’t really your thing, how about some crazy Avengers papercraft? I think this might be one of the most adorable uses of paper I’ve ever seen, particularly since hedgehogs are my favorite animal ever. I love that these were made by a librarian (the open book-looking style makes a lot of sense!) who hastened to reassure everyone that these were made from falling-apart comics that have been replaced in the library’s collection. Ah, librarians. Speaking of books that are falling apart, here’s a really cool way to re-bind a book in true superheroine style that I kind of want to try even if my books aren’t falling apart. Or, if you are more into a simple do-it-yourself popular style of papercraft, there are these papercraft Avengers here. These look simple enough for even kids to do, so it might be a fun project for young comics fans, with more designs at the link if you’re getting tired of the Avengers and want to try something else.

Finally, there are a ton of clever geek jewelry designs out there (heck, I’ve even made some myself), but of the ones I’ve seen lately, this little Tank Girl necklace is definitely a favorite.

Well! If you’re a crafter, hopefully these links provide some interest and inspiration (they did for me!) or, if not, maybe some gift ideas for the holidays. Or at the very least, I hope you liked looking at all the fantastically geeky creations as much as I did.

Until next time, Servo Lectio!

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

 

Mike Gold: EC Comics Fight – T’aint The Teat, It’s The Humanity

Over at The Comics Journal website Michael Dean posted an article about how the Harvey Kurtzman Estate (represented by Denis Kitchen) and Al Feldstein filed to “regain” the copyrights to their EC Comics work.

Feldstein and the Bill Gaines estate reached an agreement – undisclosed, of course – but the Kurtzman situation is more complex. Kurtzman created Mad, he wrote it, he did the layouts for his artists and he drew a modicum of the material as well. But it’s Mad and Mad is owned by Time Warner. It’s a teevee show on one of Time Warner’s cablenets. The magazine might not be very profitable any longer, but the brand name most certainly is.

Be that as it may, I put the word “regain” in quotation marks because, well, Al and Harvey never had those copyrights in the first place. EC Publications and its sundry successors in interest always held them. And, as Dean and others point out, the exploitation value of the material has been well-plundered. But we’re saddled with a remarkably antiquated, unfair and pro-theft copyright law and I think Al and Denis deserve to get in the game.

But who really should own what? This is the sort of thing that gives compassionate thinkers migraines and earns lawyers their reputations. Lots of people contributed massively to the creation of this body of material, including a great many of the most accomplished writers and artists of the time. And, in my opinion, of any time.

Wally Wood, Jack Davis, Bernie Krigstein, Willie Elder, Al Williamson, John Severin – to name simply the first half-dozen creators to come to mind. They and their co-workers played as important a function in the creation of the EC legacy as Al and Harvey. Their work was not interchangeable. The then-current artist list of, say, Charlton or even St. John Comics could not have been dropped into their place – well, they could, but you wouldn’t have had EC Comics and I wouldn’t be writing this piece.

Then again, Bill Gaines took the financial risk. He selected and hired these people. He contributed to a great many of the stories, particularly those edited by Al Feldstein. Does he (or his estate) deserve to be chilled from the long-term rewards?

Maybe. Bill didn’t return any of the original art – but, then again, in those days nobody did. However, Bill kept and archived the original art, and decades later he had it auctioned off. When he did this, artists were getting their work back and those that had it returned whatever inventories of old art they had on hand. Bill did not do this. He gave the artist a taste of the revenue, at a price determined by him and him alone. The artists were unable to get their art back, to do with what they wish.

“Ethics” are tricky. The idea is to rectify wrongs without wronging others in the process. This is only somewhat easier than building a perpetual motion machine.

The conversation over at The Comics Journal is spirited, engaging and, in a few instances, amusingly over-the-top. These are three important elements in protracted online conversations. You might want to check it out.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

Emily S. Whitten: Marvelously Disney

When I was deciding on a topic for this week’s column, I tried hard to think about what in the comics world I wanted to tackle next – but instead, my brain just kept going, “Whoop Whoop Whoop Disney Disney Disney Alert Alert Alert You’re About To Go To Disney Wheeeeeeeeee.”

Yes, my brain really does do that. Especially when I’m about to go jaunt around Disney World (and Islands of Adventure and Harry Potter World, eeeee!) for four days straight. Between the excitement of being about to finally try real butterbeer, the knowledge that we’re arriving at Disney and Epcot smack in the middle of the Epcot Food & Wine Festival, and the fact that Universal Islands of Adventure now has four Marvel rides, including a re-vamped Spider-Man ride, I can barely string sentences together at all. Considering the last time I rode the Spider-Man ride at Islands of Adventure it turned me into Little Plucky from Tiny Toons (“I wanna do it again, I wanna do it agaaaaain!!!”), I expect incoherent excitement will also be my constant state once I get there.

But since I don’t think I could convince Editor-in-Chief Mike that jumping up and down in place while clapping is a valid substitute for a written column, I’ll try to contain myself long enough to be vaguely articulate and stuff over here. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep thinking about my upcoming trip, though. In fact, given Marvel and Disney’s close association these days (despite the fact that Universal continues to hold onto the licenses for their Marvel rides thus far), my trip is totally Relevant to Our ComicMix Interests, and I can’t help but wonder when we will start to see Marvel rides appearing at Disney World. Thinking of this mash-up of worlds has inspired me to new heights of column-writing silliness. Therefore, I give you:

If Marvel Characters had Disney Origin Stories

[Wherein we re-imagine the origin of a Marvel villain featured in an Islands of Adventure ride, with the assumption that he was born into, not the Marvel universe, but the Magic Kingdom. Surely this means his story will be full of cheerfulness and light, right?]

Meet Doctor Doom

Born into a family of Parisian gypsies, one of whom hangs around with a hunchback all the time, young Victor and his father (no mention is made of his mother, because this is Disney, and mysteriously missing a parent at a young age is common) lose track of their caravan and roam the countryside together trying to find it until, through a tragic misunderstanding, hunters searching for food accidentally shoot his father, thinking he is a deer (oh no!). Upon losing his father, Victor wanders far and wide, but comes to rest in a small country town where he makes friends with a group of stray Dalmatian puppies who bring him bits of food in exchange for him patching up their hurt paws and ears.

Unfortunately, the Dalmatians all run away after a tall lady with crazy eyes and an extreme fondness for black and white clothes wanders into their alley hideaway making grasp-y motions, leaving the adolescent animal doctor on his own to wander again. He is very sad, because he likes puppies, and now he has none. But as luck would have it, upon reaching the sea nearby, Victor encounters a kindly-seeming purple-skinned sorceress who recognizes that he is gifted with extraordinary magical abilities. Offering to take him under her tentacle and teach him the ways of magic for the low price of just a couple of toes, she and Victor have many wacky adventures (like when he tries to use her magic hat and broom to help him with the chores and the water just gets everywhere).

But just when all seems well again in the young man’s life, he discovers that his mentor was actually responsible for his father’s death – she had sent the hunters out to bring her fresh meat because she was really-super-tired of eating fish! Oh no! Enraged to learn she was responsible for his earlier loss, Victor loses control of his magic and sets a nearby oil slick on fire (thus teaching us a valuable environmental lesson about how bad it is to have oil slicks lying around just everywhere in the ocean) which sadly scorches his face. In a fit of teenage rebellion he puts on a soothing metal mask his teacher has just lying around (because who doesn’t have one of those?) and storms out of his apprenticeship, taking the ol’ sea witch’s favorite big black pot with him too, just for spite.

Now alone once more and getting thirsty, Victor tries to magic up some tea in his new crochan – but instead of tea filling the pot, a voiceless version of himself climbs out! Deciding this is better than tea, he makes enough Voiceless Victors to play a good game of football with him. Disastrously, one of the VVs kicks the ball into a farmyard, where it whacks a big white pig in the head, which makes the pig-keeper angry. The pig-keeper, whose name is Reed, vows to get even, and chases Victor all over the countryside trying to beat up his football team and break his pot. At which point Victor, parentless, mentor-less, pet-less, slightly toe-less, vaguely face-less, and still really, really thirsty, decides that he’s just about had it with this nonsense, and says the hell with it; he’s going to create an army of Voiceless Victors and take over the worrrrllldddd. And thus, a new evil villain is born.

…But he still likes puppies.

The End

This column has been brought to you by the letters M and D, and way, way too many endorphins. Please forgive it for being kind of ridiculous.

And until next time, Servo Lectio!

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

 

Mike Gold: Why I Didn’t Cold-Cock Walter Simonson

There’s been a lot of high-quality books lately that reprint classic stories straight from the original. My friends at IDW do a lot of those, so they’ll be deeply depressed that I’m not going to be talking about one of theirs. And of course there’s no reason to believe a comp list wouldn’t change my attitude.

Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear; in this case, about two months ago. We’re at the vaunted Baltimore Comic-Con – in specific, the Harvey Awards dinner. Walter Simonson had an advance copy of Titan Books’ hardcover collection of the Alien movie adaptation, as done by Walter and the late and much, much missed Archie Goodwin. This book was the exception that proved my point that doing an absolutely first-rate adaptation of a movie is a near-impossibility.

The needs and treasures of the comic book medium are different from those of the movie medium: we have total control of time and space and we’ve got a special effects budget that is limited only by the collective minds of the producing talent. Movies, on the other hand, have going for them music, motion and the benefit of the shared-experience. Apples and oranges.

The Goodwin-Simonson Alien was one of those rare exceptions; perhaps the best of those exceptions. Either way, it was and is worthy of this new high-quality format.

So when Walter was showing off his advance copy like a proud papa before an audience of some of the most talented people in the artform (Mark Wheatley snuck me in), I thought about doing what every other red-blooded comic book fan would think of doing: cold-cocking the son of a bitch, stealing his book, jumping into my Ford Focus and driving back to Connecticut, laughing hysterically while leaving my daughter to fend for herself.

I maneuvered into position in the darkened room, avoiding Louise Simonson. While I’d take Walter on, I do not have what it takes to take on any person who could be so gifted and so nice after working for James Warren. Then, and only then, did I have an epiphany.

I’ve known Walter for decades and decades. We lived near each other on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, we played on the same volleyball team. We’ve dined hither and yon – he once drew a massive prehistoric landscape on the linen tablecloth at a Skokie Illinois restaurant in order to “illustrate” a point. I respect and admire Walter as one of the nicest human beings on the planet… with the exception of the volleyball courts.

But that’s not why I didn’t cold-cock Walter Simonson. Clearly I’ve gotten old, an aging lion gumming his dinner in the corner of the cage while the younguns are preening themselves for pussy.

No, I didn’t cold-cock him because I remembered I already ordered the book. So stealing his simply wasn’t worth the energy.

But it was worth the wait. Buy it before it sells out.

Alien : The Illustrated Story (Original Art Edition) by Archie Goodwin and Walter Simonson • Titan Books • 96 oversized pages • $75.00 retail

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil, who’s also a very nice guy

 

 

Mike Gold: Vote, Damn It!

Ever since we resumed our sundry weekly columns I’ve asked our writers to keep their focus on our popular culture in general and, as often as possible, on comics in specific. I have no problem linking the events of the day to our culture; indeed, that usually brings a nice contemporary perspective to our cheap thrills. At worse, it makes for a fun rant.

I commend our ComicMix columnists for their faithful cooperation and effort. And so, now, I’m going to violate my own edict. I’ve done this little rant ever since those hallowed days of the real First Comics three decades ago. Somehow, I even managed to get away with it at DC Comics. So, true to my Ashkenazi roots, I am going to maintain this tradition.

Next Tuesday is election day. In telling you this, I’m assuming your teevee set is broken. We get to pick us all of our Congresspeople, a third of our senators, a petulance of governors, a shitload of local officials, and, oh yes, a President of the United States. All are important in that each winner will have his or her foot on our necks and his or her hands in our pockets. We are given the holy right to choose our oppressors.

“But Mike,” you might say (if you’re being polite), “if they’re just going to oppress us, why should we bother?”

Because somebody is going to win. Good, bad, and otherwise – and it will be good, bad, and otherwise – as of this writing either Barack Obama or Mitt Romney is going to win. You might think they are both jerks. Maybe so, but one of those jerks will be sworn in as President this coming January 20th. That’s an absolute fact.

And odds are overwhelming that the winner will be choosing the next member of the Supreme Court. Maybe the next two.

You know the Supreme Court. The folks who are the last word on all of our laws and who, for years now, have decided a great many things by a one-vote margin? Yeah, those folks. They even decide elections. Whoever wins the election next week is likely to bring about a fundamental change in our nation’s laws and procedures, one that will have an effect for decades and decades to come.

Are you opposed to abortion? How about our medical care laws? Corporations-as-people? Super-PACs? Incarceration of marijuana users? Next Tuesday is your big chance to put your left foot in, your left foot out, your right foot in, and shake the nation all about.

I do not care whom you vote for. Well, that’s a total lie; of course I do. But that’s not the point here. No matter whether you’re smart enough to agree with my politics or you’re some kind of stalking Neanderthal, this Tuesday get off your ass and vote!

If you decide not to do so, you lose your moral right to bitch. And that, dear friends, is among the greatest of all pleasures.

Next week, back to life’s more important matters.

Mike Gold is ComicMix’s editor-in-chief, and this was a bone fide editorial.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

Marc Alan Fishman: Everything We Do, We Do It For You

Thank you, Bryan Adams. See? More than one good thing has come out of Canada that isn’t Wolverine related. Add that to the Barenaked Ladies, good maple syrup, and Mike Meyers’ middle career, and you’ve got one great country! But I digress. I want to come back to a topic I’ve droned on about several times: the continuing story of Unshaven Comics by way of an increasing number of convention appearances.

This past weekend we had a delightful time at what we’d consider to be the best single day convention in the Midwest – the Kokomo Con, in mid-Indiana. And it was here, amidst the moderately sized crowd of fans making their way around the convention center we were privy to my favorite part of being in this business – fans. In the five or so years I’ve been toiling over scripts, pages, websites, and social media groups, nothing has felt better than having someone walk towards our table with an ear to ear smile. “Hey! You guys! I remember you from last year. Got anything new?” Heck, even typing that makes me a little giddy.

For some of the more legendary folks here with whom I share column space, it must be a far different feeling. To be clear, I don’t know if Dennis, John, Mike, or Michael have ever been on the side of the table as Unshaven has. I know they’ve obviously all had booths or artist alley tables, mind you. But I’d be remiss to guess if they ever were the ones chasing the tables, instead of being offered them. For Unshaven, the way into the industry is by hook or crook. We’ve got fiction to hawk, damnit. And for the time being? We’re not established. Our fans are few, but mighty. For a Dennis O’Neil or John Ostrander… they merely plop themselves into a chair and let the masses come to them, and rightfully so. In contrast, Unshaven Comics has cut its teeth with a generation of comic fans I dare say are more finicky, diverse, and uneasy to please repeatedly.

The show runner at Kokomo stopped by our table several times to make sure we were doing well. We were happy to relate every time that we were pleased as punch. By the end of the day, we’d increased our book sales by 20% over the year before. And given that attendance was slightly down from the year prior? This was an even more reassuring notion for our wee little team. To that effort, he quickly quipped “You guys could make a panel for artists to tell them how to be successful at cons!” Truth be told? I’ve detailed our crazy tactics before in my previous con-centric articles. What we do isn’t hard. It’s a bit shameless. But then again, our model for business was Stan Lee, and he certainly has made a living (or two) by never denying his inner huckster.

My greater point here though is this: Beyond any salesmanship we may employ at our table, beyond any marketing and networking we do, beyond any artistic fan-service we whore ourselves out for, what makes us successful comes down to one common denominator: a quality product that connects with fans. If we made bad books, no amount of smiling and pitching would show us increasing sales 10-20% every time we return to a convention. With the blistering amount of competition there is in artist alleys around the country, it’s a badge of pride when someone comes back time and again to see you. Especially when it’s with money-in-hand.

Thanks largely to my day job, I’ve been privy to a ton of extra-curricular reading (non-comic reading, boo) about start-ups. After careful consideration, it’s become obvious to me that my own studio is in fact just that. As a slow moving startup, we’ve done everything to keep costs down, while testing our product in the market. In layman terms? We don’t pay ourselves for the all the time we dedicate to making the books, we stay at cheap hotels, and only pay for dinner when Mark Wheatley, Mike Gold, John Ostrander or Glenn Hauman  say to. And with each subsequent release, we’ve managed our risk by truly listening to our fans. After our first book (horror) and our second (rated R super-hero fare), we tried the all ages genre. And, as you read a week or two ago, the fans responded happily. And now, after several one-shots, we’re dipping our toes into mini-series waters.

And if the fans continue to be happy, return in droves, and help define a following for our beardly wares, we just might end up going whole-hog and doing an on-going series. We do what we do because of the fans. When they react positively to what we put on the page, it tells us that we share a bond not only in collective fandom… but it cements to us that our commitment to craft leads to more than a single purchase and lament.

It leads to a relationship between a fan and a creator. It leads to us one day being invited to the convention instead of chasing after it. And rest assured, no matter how we come to the con, we’ll continue to do what we always do – earning one fan at a time, until the convention hall closes.

SUNDAY: John Ostrander’s Alphas!

 

Mike Gold: Mad, or Sad?

A couple years ago, Mad Magazine was demoted to quarterly release – a status it had not had since it first converted into magazine format in 1955. Shortly after, I ran into its publisher Paul Levitz and expressed regret at the situation. Paul, a major comics fan and historian, shared my feelings but said with obvious sadness “Maybe its time had passed.”

Maybe so. Mad’s return to bi-monthly status, one suspects, has more to do with the successful animated series than any publishing-revenue prerogative. Paul was right, and he’s still right: Mad’s time had passed. To his credit, it had passed back when he was still a teenager.

I came across Mad at an early age, discovering my sister’s comics stash as I was ferreting about her bedroom looking for, well, comics. And maybe spare change. Like an unbelievable number of Boomers, it totally warped my mind. Mad was part of its time: we also had Ernie Kovacs and Rocky and Bullwinkle. Steve Allen and Del Close. Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis. All assaulted a status quo that was desperately in need of destruction.

As it always is.

Perhaps these combined forces shaped me more than the average pre-adolescent. Truth to Power, there’s really no “perhaps” about it. Therefore, when Mars Attacks! came out I discovered creative people can up the ante. And Mars Attacks! ushered in the 1960s when the ante wasn’t simply upped, it grew daily and exponentially.

Somewhere along the way, Mad’s “usual gang of idiots” continued to age. Instead of hoisting our culture on its own petard, Mad sometimes turned on the latter-day iconoclasts. Not viciously, not regularly, but by the end of the decade you could hear the sound of the hardening of their arteries.

This was unnecessary, but it left room for the sons of Mad to take on the role – folks like Robert Crumb, Jay Lynch, George Carlin, Tommy Smothers, Richard Pryor, Michael O’Donoghue, Doug Kenny, Frank Zappa, Matt Groening, Mike Judge… I’m happy to say the list goes on and on. Now, the grandsons of Mad have taken over. Just as Frank Faye begat Jack Benny who begat Johnny Carson who begat Bill Maher, Mad is better thought of as a major influence than an active force.

I’m not saying Mad sucked. It continued to be funny and, often, clever. But it was totally ready for prime time. Mad was on Broadway. It became a movie (for which publisher and legend Bill Gaines apologized – in the pages of Mad). It became a television show. It became two television shows, actually, and both were more cutting-edge than the magazine had been in over two decades.

Onetime Madmen like Paul Krassner and Chevy Chase went elsewhere. If you’re in the culture evolution business and the establishment doesn’t regard you as a pariah, you’re not doing your job right.

Clearly, Paul was on the money. My inner-fanboy (who pays the rent; it’s a good arrangement) says Mad could of and should of stayed in the thick of the fray, but que sera, sera.

The massive talent of Mad was celebrated ten years ago in a wonderful book called Mad Art, by none other than Mark Evanier. It owns my highest recommendation. A new book, Totally Mad, is set for release next Tuesday, which means it’s in the “bookstores” right now. I haven’t read it so I won’t comment, but you might want to give it a look.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

Mike Gold: Little Ole New York Comic Con

ComicMix associate editor Adriane Nash and I knew we were in for it when, on Thursday morning last, there were nine other people waiting for the same commuter train who clearly were headed not to work but to the New York Comic Con. Trains run every half-hour, and ours is but one of a great, great many such stations. Do the math.

In total… one hundred thousand people. Some of whom bathed.

Sure, San Diegoans might smirk at a mere 100,000, but there are major differences between the two shows. First, it only took NYCC six years to reach the 100,000 mark. Second, the Javits Center is smaller and much more out of the way than the San Diego Convention Center. Third, the NYCC has a lot more to do with comic books than the SDCC. Actually, the SDCC barely has anything to do with comic books, despite its title and its not-for-profit mission statement. And finally, NYCC has more European artists and writers while SDCC has more Asian. Of course, this is neither better nor worse, but it is an interesting difference.

For me, there’s another important difference: I don’t have to fly from sea to shining sea to get there.

I’ll gleefully admit six years ago NYCC really, truly and totally sucked. I said so right here in this space. It was the worst planned, worst programmed, worst run major show I’d ever been to, and I started going to New York conventions back in 1968 (I cosplayed Swee’pea). It improved, slowly, and achieved adequacy in its third or fourth year.

This time around the show was very well run – although I agree with Emily’s comments about their panel programming decisions being less than knowledgeable. They should endeavor to overcome this problem.

My biggest complaint – they’re called “issues” now, aren’t they? – was rectified mid-way through the show. They had the exits blocked off, forcing the mass of humanity through narrow corridors back to the small entrance way, making it dangerously difficult to leave, particularly for those who were mobility-challenged. This policy was enforced by a part-time minimum wage crew and, while I sympathize with their difficult job, there was no reason for them to lie to us – they weren’t upholding fire laws; quite the contrary – and there was no reason to act like Cartman without his truncheon. On Thursday and Friday some acted as though it was their job to put the oink in “rent-a-pig,” but on Saturday the rules were changed and you could actually exit through some of the doors marked “exit.”

The New York Comic Con was totally and completely sold out well before the show started. While there was some confusion about the changes in registration procedures (particularly for pros, but we’re an easily confused lot), most of us who followed the rules received our badges in the mail several weeks before the show and therefore were saved from the agony of lines long enough to cause a riot at LaGuardia Airport. I don’t know how you legitimately limit the audience size and 100,000 people can barely fix into the venue; there’s some construction going on at the Javits right now so I hope they procure more floor space next year.

Personally, I had a great time. Sure, most of it was work (ComicMix had nine people there, a third focused on cosplay coverage for our Facebook and Twitter feeds) and because of the nature of my work I spent most of my time in and about Artists’ Alley, the only room that routinely had sufficient oxygen. But I saw a lot of friends – a lot – and, when all is said and done, we could take whatever energy we had left and wade into the bowels of Manhattan, which is always an entertaining and unusual experience.

A rough estimate reveals the New York Comic Con contributed over a quarter billion dollars to the local economy. We’re not just legitimate. We’re big business.

 (Our columnist would like to thank Ed Sullivan for the loan of the head.)

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

 

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