Tagged: New 52

MARTHA THOMASES: Superhero Fashion Inaction

Columns
September 30, 2011

My pal Heidi MacDonald, has done a great job of covering the critical discussion of DC’s depiction of female characters in The New 52. Thanks to her, I read this awesomely thoughtful analysis by Laura Hudson, and this terrific bit of snark.

So there’s not a lot I can add from a political perspective. Instead, let’s talk about the fashion.

By fashion, I don’t mean the clothes you see on the runways or in the magazines. I mean the choices humans (and, in this case, women) make every day before they leave their homes to go to work, run arounds, or hang with friends.

If you’re a woman with super-powers, and you have a public role fighting crime, or saving people from disasters, it stands to reason that you’d want to wear something eye-catching. That allows you to be seen by people who need your help. It also makes sense that you’d want to wear something form-fitting, because you don’t want a lot of extra fabric to get in the way of the work you’re trying to do. There are many who think the superhero costume was inspired by circus acrobats, and that is certainly an occupation that would require costumes that fit these criteria.

But then what?

Let’s consider Starfire, currently appearing in Red Hood and the Outlaws. I almost didn’t pick this up, because I’m not much of a fan of the current version of Jason Todd, but I looked at the first page, liked the art, and decided to be open-minded. By the time I got to page 7, I was okay.

But then there was page 8.

I’m supposed to believe that Starfire, an alien warrior, would go into battle with almost her entire body exposed, with only her calves truly protected. A woman who, for whatever reason, has enormous breasts, and who wears an outfit that offers them no support, just small metal bandaids over her nipples.

Two pages later, we see Kory again, this time in a bikini. She’s swimming, so the fact that she’s wearing a bikini isn’t surprising, but it doesn’t fit her properly. The ties that should go underneath her breasts instead circle them from the middle. Maybe they have to, because the patches of fabric attached to the ties are too small to cover her if the suit fit properly.

(Perhaps this inability to find something appropriate to wear is related to her new characterization. An alien who can’t tell one human male from another probably has trouble understanding American sizing, or fitting rooms. However, since she makes it clear that, like all her people, she’ll have sex with anyone at any time whenever she feels like it, I’d love to see what the appliance stores are like on Tamaran.)

A costume can be revealing and make sense. When Amanda Connor was drawing Power Girl, I completely believed that Kara was comfortable in her outfit. Sure, it showcased her ta-tas, but Amanda emphasized the seaming enough so that I believed she had the necessary support. There is no doubt in my mind that Amanda did this because she has worn a bra.

A lot of the problems with comic book costumes for women occur because they’re designed and drawn by men, most of whom have not worn a bra. They don’t know what it feels like to run in heels. They haven’t tried to do anything when their breasts might bounce around enough to hurt. And they haven’t heard the things that other men feel entitled to say to women who flaunt their assets (or just try to keep cool in the summer heat).

I used to spend a lot of time decrying that kind of male attention. I really hated being interrupted by strangers and their opinions when I was just outside, minding my own business. “You’ll miss it when they stop,” people told me.

They were wrong. I don’t miss it at all.

If the men who used to hassle me are now distracted reading comics like Red Hood, that’s fine. Let them annoy fictional characters, and there will be no harm, no foul. I only wish DC would market the book accordingly, so I don’t think they want my money.

Dominoes Daredoll Martha Thomases thinks Spandex is just great, especially when it’s part of jeans.

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman

Are People In Comics Really Crazy?

ComicMix Quick Picks
September 23, 2011

RESPONDING to years of declining readership, DC Comics — the publisher behind Superman, Batman and other superheroes — recently reintroduced itself with 52 new titles, featuring characters and story lines that better reflect today’s diverse sensibilities. But it remains to be seen whether that diversity will include more accurate portrayals of mental illnesses. Although the reintroduction is in full swing, it’s not too late for DC to use its unique and influential position in American pop culture to combat harmful stereotypes.

via Putting the Caped Crusader on the Couch – NYTimes.com.

DENNIS O’NEIL: The Original Reboot

Columns
September 22, 2011

All hands brace for a confession….Yeah, you got me. I admit that all the noise surrounding DC Comics’ reboot or relaunch or reinvention…whatever you call it, all the dust raised by this activity has caused me the occasional twinge. I worked in the comics trenches for a lot of years and some of it I still miss. Not all, oh no, but – sitting with bright, talented, convivial people in a room and doping out stories to tell…that was one of life’s joys and I’m guessing that the stalwarts at DC have spent a lot of time recently doing just that.

But they aren’t the first to redact the company’s pantheon of superheroes. Way back before you were born – most of you, anyway – Julius Schwartz did pretty much the same thing. The year was 1956 (I told you that you weren’t born yet) and comics, and their primary contribution to pop culture, superheroes – they’d been sickly for about a decade, ever since some politicians, editorial writers and assorted busybodies had convinced a lot of citizens that comics were spawns of evil. (To be fair, changing publishing and retail realities had something to do with comics’ decline, too.) As Julie told me the story: he and his fellow editors were having a meeting and someone decided to revive The Flash, a once-popular character that hadn’t been seen for years. Julie’s words as I remember them: They all looked at me and I said, I guess I’m it.

They did, and he was. He didn’t merely produce a carbon copy of the original Flash, though. With writer Robert Kanigher and artists Carmine Infantino & Joe Kubert, Julie gave the world a new Flash – new costume, new origin, new identity. He left the original concept intact – the world’s fastest human – and altered everything else to make The Flash and his world reflect this, the world we non-fictional beings in habit. Julie and his merry men taught those of us who followed them how to do it: leave whatever made the character popular and unique alone, and modernize the rest.

There was no particular fuss over Julie’s work, back in 1956. For him, it was just another day at the office. The network of fan publications was at best just a’borning, as were conventions, and websites, like this one, weren’t even science fiction because, as far as I know, nobody had even thought of them. Sure, some dedicated readers may have reacted, but the world at large…yawn. And that may have been where Julie had an advantage over his editorial descendants.

Imagine doing this complex task with hordes of the curious looking over your shoulder, waiting to see if you fail, some of them, human nature being what it is, maybe hoping you’ll fail. And of course, regardless of how well you perform, a lot of your audience will find fault because they’ve been establishing an emotional attachment to these characters for years – for decades? – and any significant changes is going to seem…well, dammit, wrong! Pretty daunting, huh?

I haven’t read any of the new stuff yet. Have I just convinced myself that I shouldn’t?

FRIDAY: Martha Thomases

MIKE GOLD: DC’s New 52 Drops A Good One

Columns
September 21, 2011

Well, here’s something strange. Within a 72-hour period last week a half dozen people asked me if I had read the new, new Animal Man. During that same period, my daughter was asked the same question by one of her friends. Then I had lunch with comics writer Paul Kupperberg, so I asked him if he read the book. He said no, not yet, but a number of people told him he should.

Hmmmm. Word of mouth is either the best or the worst type of publicity. I noticed not a one of these folks said it was great; just that it was worth reading.

I enjoyed the original Animal Man – the one that was created by Dave Wood and Carmine Infantino in Strange Adventures 180, some 46 years ago. It was unusual in that it was only occasionally published, and the lead didn’t get his costume (one of Carmine’s best) until the third appearance nearly a year later. His run – more like a bunch of skips and hops – was brief, but it clearly had an impact on us Baby Boomer fanboys. Animal Man was more of a cool concept than a fan fave.

Because I’m not quite paranoid to believe that all those people who recommended the book to us were part of a vast conspiracy, I approached Jeff Lemire and Travel Foreman’s Animal Man volume 2, number 1 without preconceptions.

Gone is the cool Infantino-designed costume, replaced by something that was clearly influenced by the original: no more contemporary in design, but with a more striking color scheme. We start with Buddy Baker’s home life, and here we indulge a bit in the married life superhero chiché. He’s not henpecked the way The Web was back in the 1960s (one of the first, if not the first, costumed hero with a “realistic” married life); Lemire cleverly uses the rough parts of family life as exposition.

It is that very family that is the root of this first story arc. In the 22-page format there’s very little room to establish the characters in this new reality and really get you deeply involved in an actual story, and Animal Man 2.1 does a better job of it than most of The New 52 stories I’ve read so far. Not as good as Mister Terrific #1 in terms of the quantity and depth of story, but more compelling from the perspective of character.

That seems to be what Animal Man is all about: character development within the framework of a family where the father has superpowers. I say “seems to be” because, well, hell, we don’t know. It’s just the first issue. But this beginning gives me hope.

I always get hinky when I think about how a DC series will get coopted as it is thrust into the DCU – sorry, make that DCnU – but I’ve learned to leave such speculation to time and historical inevitability. And hope that Animal Man beats the odds.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

MINDY NEWELL: Comics Are For Kids?

Columns
September 19, 2011

There’s a great interview with Grant Morrison on the website of Rolling Stone magazine. The reason I bring it up is that I’ve been thinking about last week’s column. The more I thought about Action Comics #1, written by Morrison, the more I really liked it.

But I’m an adult.

I’ve been a fan of Grant’s since his debut on this side of the pond as the writer of Animal Man back in the 80s. It was a book that I adored. But Animal Man was under the Vertigo imprint, whose aim was to bring a sophisticated, i.e. adult, audience and slant into the comics industry – at which it incredibly succeeded, of course. In fact, if I remember right, the “hook” for the entire line of Vertigo books was sophisticated horror.

But I’m an adult.

And the Vertigo books aren’t for kids.

I grew up during the Silver Age of comics. When Lois was constantly getting into jams thanks to her penchant of trying to discover Superman’s secret identity. When Jimmy was constantly being exposed to some weird amulet that turned him into Elasti-Lad or a giant turtle or a bearded man. When Perry smoked cigars and yelled “Great Caesar’s Ghost” all the time. When Supergirl was alive and acted as her cousin’s secret weapon. When Superboy was a teenage Clark Kent living in Smallville and had a secret passageway and robots to cover his “tuchas” when he was away on a mission and his parents were alive and Lana Lang was his sweetheart. When Kandor was in a bottle. When the Legion of Super-Heroes travelled through time in a bubble. When the “editor’s note” would inform me that the sun was 93,000,000 miles away from Earth.

Okay, it was a more innocent age. Well, not really. There was the Cold War and the U-2 incident and the Korean War and the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis and Barry Goldwater and the John Birch Society and “advisory troops” in a country named Vietnam. The Suez Canal crisis.

It was the Mad Men age.

And then we all grew up to be Mad Men.

The assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The assassination of Martin Luthor King. The assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. Women’s rights. The Black Panthers. Newark, New Jersey in flames. The Weatherman. The Vietnam War. Tricky Dick. The Chicago Democratic Convention. Dan Rather being manhandled and dragged off the floor of the convention center. Cops in riot gear beating up college students. The Pentagon Papers. Pot. Hash. Timothy Leary. Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters. Tune in. Turn on. Drop out.

The thing is, I think all those people marching and rioting and fighting and reacting to what was wrong in the world, what they did, what we did, was because we were raised on the ideals of what America was supposed to be about, what we really did believe, growing up, America was about.

I look around now, and I wonder, why aren’t people out on the street marching in the hundreds of thousands protesting? Angry people march. Angry people riot. Angry people force change.

Six out of 10 children are living in poverty in this country. In fucking America, man! Why aren’t their parents out there marching? We were lied into Iraq more blatantly than we were ever lied to about Vietnam. Why the fuck aren’t we out there marching? We’re building infrastructures and schools in Afghanistan while our own bridges and roads are collapsing and our school buildings are rotting. Why the fuck are we not out there marching? Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, the Koch brothers and about 10 other Wall Street operators are speculating in oil prices. Why the fuck aren’t we out there marching? The President lets the Republicans walk all over him and the Republicans can’t stand that the black guy in the White House isn’t the valet. Why the fuck are we not out there marching?

What has changed?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t.

But I’m sad, and I’m scared. Really scared.

Superman used to be written for kids. As was Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane, and Superman’s Pal Jimmy Olsen, and Supergirl, and Superboy and the Legion of Super-Heroes.

Grant is a great writer. Grant is a brilliant writer.

Grant is not a writer for kids.

And Action Comics #1 isn’t for kids.

TUESDAY: Michael Davis

MARC ALAN FISHMAN: Oh Boy! Comics!

Columns
September 17, 2011

Hello all. Welcome back to my angry little corner of the interwebosphere. Last week I bitched and moaned about variant covers… and well, you all agreed with me. Thank you. Not that we’ll see that stop mind you, but at least I know I’m not alone when I scoff. I know everyone this week has the DCnU on the brain. But honestly? I’m tired of it. Some books are amazing (Action Comics, Animal Man), some are profoundly underwhelming (Justice League, JLI), and some defy all logic for being printed (Voodoo. I know it’s not out yet, but come on.). Six months from now, when 1/3 of these comics are poop-canned, will anyone be surprised? Nope. DC has never shied away from gimmicks. So enjoy the ride. But I digress. Instead of adding to the tidal wave of blather about DC this week, I want to talk about something far more important. I want to talk about my son.

This past Tuesday, September 13th, my wife and I got our 20-week ultrasound. Breaking tradition (we’re totally into SPOILER ALERTS) we decided to find out the sex of our baby. I can’t tell a lie (ok, I can, but for the sake of argument… I won’t.) – I wanted a boy. And right there, in blue and black, my little guy waved hi to me. It was an experience I’ll never forget. The fear, the joy, all of it combined in that little hospital room. My best friends (Matt of Unshaven Comics and his lovely wife, Amy) are two weeks ahead of Kathy and me. They found out last week they are having a boy too. Thus the scions of Unshaven Comics will be here in January/February of 2012. When they enter this world, there’s no way to escape it: comic books will be an integral part of their lives. The question is… what comics will be?

Growing up, my parents didn’t read to me. I don’t have a single memory of my parents sitting by my bedside reading Goodnight Moon. My folks aren’t readers, honestly. It’s never bothered me. I myself don’t consider reading all that much of a hobby. Every moment I’m awake I’m generally working. For my employer. For Unshaven Comics. For ComicMix. For my wife. For your wife. Confession time kids. The only time I read (and 99% of the time we’re talking comic books here) I’m on the can. Only an idiot like me would try to be double productive when I’m pooping. Why just defecate when I can be entertained at the same time?!

All this being said though, I’ve made it a point to myself to share the joy of the written word (and the drawn picture) with my son. The escapism, imagination, and craft of a good book, or good comic for that matter is something I want my son to enjoy as early in his life as possible. Not just cause his daddy loves it mind you… Because in this day and age where 140 characters has come to represent a complete thought, stopping to read even 20 pages of muscly guys punching other muscly guys is better than the ADD-riddled alternative. The TV, the computer, the cellphone? All have a place in my son’s life, but it’s not going to be the end-all-be-all for his entertainment needs.

So what’s my evil master plan? First and foremost, Daddy is gonna read Fishy 2.0 all of Unshaven Comics. I yearn for the day my son is on the playground and an exchange goes something like this:

Random snot-nosed other kid: Superman would beat the Hulk!

Lil’ Fishman: And Liberty’s Torch would beat Superman!!

Random snot-nosed other kid: Who’s that?

Lil’ Fishman: Just the coolest super-est hero that ever lived! Duh! (Little Fishy then proceeds to detail all he knows about his Dad’s super-hero creations. Soon, the entire elementary school is ready for The Samurnauts… and I’m a millionaire.)

All ego-stroking aside, when introducing my future son to comic books, the plan is simple: What Dad reads, the son shall read as well. As soon as possible, I want to introduce my son to great “all-ages” books like Tiny Titans (or essentially anything by Art and Franco) and a little Archie. As he grows up, I’ll open up my collection to him. If he’s receptive to it, I’ll proudly read just about any book I own with him.

Obviously I’ll turn on my parental V-chip to ensure the content is kid-appropriate. But one thing that I’m a huge proponent of is not shielding my eventual child from the world. I’ve never smoked a cigarette. Simply put, child rearing scares the hell out of me. Last night I read for an hour about baby poop, how to help a child say his first word, and how to look for warning signs if baby is gonna spray you when changing a diaper. But when it comes to entertaining my son, there’s no question. The entire world of comic books is open to him. I’ll start small, and simple, and slowly introduce him to all the great genres – be it superhero, western, sci-fi, horror, love, fantasy, pulp, noir, and maybe even a little of all of it (i.e. GrimJack). Ultimately, my son will gain his own identity, and I know it’s my job then to nurture it, and let him find his own way. Even if he ends up liking the X-Men. God help me.

I’ve never been drunk. I’ve never taken an illegal drug. And my parents never once had to sit me down to explain any of it. I watched what I wanted to watch. I read what I wanted to read. And they were always quick to explain to me anything that was confusing or “adult.” I intend to do the same. Does that mean my son will read the Watchmen at 8? Probably not alone, but his dad will gladly read it with him. He’ll learn about history through the lens of fiction. It will create a curiosity about the world… and I can’t think of a better way to help my son learn, grow, and come into his own.

And when he turns 16, I’ll lend him The Pro. That outta’ keep him… interested.

SUNDAY: John Ostrander

MIKE GOLD: Superman’s Return To Superman

Columns
September 14, 2011

Looking back at the past week’s columns here on ComicMix, I’ve noticed a lot of folks are kind of upset about DC’s New 52. Perhaps upset isn’t the right word. Perhaps “untrusting” is more appropriate.

This has been mirrored in the various conversations I’ve had with folks in the past week – fans, pros, casual readers, advertising executives, media moguls, relatives, and the rest of the usual folks who clutter my life and cut into my valued reading time. Nobody seemed very happy about The New 52; some thought it insane. Most were checking it out, and simple curiosity will inflate sales figures for a while. Then these books will live or die on their strengths and weaknesses, as it should be, and in DC’s ability to maintain a publicity campaign that isn’t catering strictly to the established Comic Book Donut Shop.

I can’t say I’ve read all of the first week’s output, nor am I likely to. I’m not overwhelmed by the concept – been there, done that, right down to the “52” bit. But some of the stuff I’ve read was pretty good, and I thought I should peep up about it.

Heading that list is Action Comics volume 2 number 1. I picked this one up because I’m a huge fan of artist Rags Morales; I’ve been such since he first walked into DC’s offices and I’m very glad to have had the opportunity to work with him a few times. His Superman did not disappoint, not in the least. It has an energy and a determination that lends itself well to this incarnation.

Writer Grant Morrison, on the other hand, has had a mixed career at DC. I loved – and I mean “stop reading this and go buy it” loved – Zenith, his series for 2000AD. Some of his DC work has been really good, some not so much, and a little bit of it incomprehensible. But he’s always worth the effort.

Dismissing the parts of The New 52 that are little more than stupid marketing tricks – relaunches are never as good as simply doing it better – Grant and Rags used an interesting starting point for the new adventures of the ol’ Man of Steel. They used as their starting point the original mid-1930s Superman. They placed that character into our contemporary environment, and presumably are going on from there. This is not the new, angry, ballsy, tits to the wind Superman. This is the original angry, ballsy, tits to the wind Superman. And I think it’s good stuff.

I say “I think” because this issue of Action Comics is exactly like the other New 52 issues I’ve read in that it is a very quick read, light on story and burdened with all the problems of introducing a new series. I would have appreciated at least twice as much “story” in this story, although it has more than Justice League #1, which would give your average single day’s newspaper comic strip a run for its money.

This rather significant element aside, what we got wasn’t as much of a reboot as a restoration. This is a good thing.

I promised myself I wouldn’t comment on the more contemporary atrocity that is one of the new Superman costumes, but clearly I lied to me. Yeah, dumping the external red shorts is okay; they were stupid. A nod to their design source, the circus strongman. But by wearing blue jeans and a swell contemporary belt and a short sleeved shirt, the new stuff makes Superman’s cape look ridiculous. It looks like a bib worn backwards. But Superman without his cape is like the American flag without the stars, and no matter how silly capes look and how they destroy verisimilitude Superman’s cape is part of the deal. Maybe they can fuss with it a bit.

Superman is the crux of the DC Universe, and DC has to make him work for the 21^st Century in order to make The New 52 work. This first issue came maybe two-thirds of the way there.

That’s pretty good. Better than I expected.

THURSDAY: Dennis O’Neil

JOHN OSTRANDER: Superman – Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

Columns
September 11, 2011

This is an amazing Superman. Not totally invulnerable, can only leap mover tall buildings and not fly, defying authority, fighting criminals and corrupt politicians, on the side of the little guy – really amazing stories. What? Grant Morrison’s Superman? No, I’m not talking about that. I haven’t read his new version although I’m sure it’ll be good; Morrison wrote All-Star Superman, one of my favorite run of Superman stories.

No, I’m talking about the original run of Superman stories, by the creators – Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. I read them in one of the DC Archive books and I was floored when I read them. This was not the Superman I grew up on; he was actually a lot more interesting.

In one story, he gets a bad guy to talk by throwing him off the roof of a building, catching him, and then throwing him off again. He keeps doing this as he worries about whether or not he might have butterfingers. In another story, there’s a series of slums that are public housing and the buildings are in terrible shape. Supes’ solution? He pisses off the authorities to the point where they try to bomb him. He’s running in and out of the slum buildings that wind up flattened so that the authorities have no choice but to build new ones. And he’s laughing while he does it. The man’s a maniac – a Supermaniac.

In another story, an innocent man is about to be executed. Supes gets proof he’s innocent and goes to the governor. It’s almost midnight and the governor is in his pajamas and robe. There’s a storm and the phone lines go out. No way they can contact the prison in time. Supes grabs the governor and hurtles through the night, running and leaping at high speed to get the governor there in time to pardon the guy.

In another, Superman deals with a wife-beater and gives the jackass a taste of his own medicine.

Is the art a little primitive by today’s standards? Perhaps. Are the stories a little simple by today’s standards? Maybe – but they move like a speeding bullet. Superman at the start was very much a character of his time, born in the Depression, where the public’s confidence in their political institutions were low, where crime seemed rampant, and the little guy/gal seemed to have no-one on his/her side. Superman wasn’t bound by the courts or the law; he was an outlaw for justice.

Sound like today? Oh yeah. A Superman that hearkens back to his roots might be just what we need. I don’t know if that’s what Grant Morrison is doing but, from interviews he’s given and fro9m what I read in articles, it sounds to me as if he read those old stories, too, and has gleaned from them a basic, more primal Superman. Yesterday’s Man of Tomorrow written for today? I could get into that.

MONDAY: Mindy Newell

MINDY NEWELL: Paging Dr. House

Columns
September 5, 2011

This past Tuesday, August 30 to be exact, the New York Times ran an article by Dave Itzkoff about the “new” DC reboot. It was called “Heroes Take Flight, Again.”

It’s an interesting article. And its tone is that of a penultimate eulogy. To quote Itzkoff, “Within the DC universe, this new status quo is the result of efforts by the fleet-footed Flash to alter the course of history. But in the real world it is a last-ditch plan to counteract years of declining sales throughout the comics business.”

It’s rather like an episode of House, isn’t it? He wants to try a risky, dangerous, could-kill-the-patient-instead-of-saving-him treatment and everybody around him either has an opinion or just wants to avoid the whole subject. Cuddy is worried about the lawyers and the reputation of Princeton-Plainsboro Medical Center. Wilson is busy psychoanalyzing his friend’s penchant for walking on the edge. Foreman objects mostly because he didn’t think of it first. Chase, having forsaken the medical principle of “first do no harm” a few seasons ago when he killed a dictator who was under his care, pretty much shrugs his shoulders. Cameron is too busy in the ER to get very involved, other than to shake her long blonde hair and hot tush in House’s face and say, “you’re just gonna do what you want anyway.” Taub is caught between his Torah – he who saves a single life, it is as if he has saved the whole world – and probably causing the patient even more suffering if the treatment is allowed, and “Thirteen,” facing eventual horrible death herself thanks to the Huntington’s Disease that stalks her, thinks House is right, because she sees herself in the patient, and she wants to live.

I remember when I first heard of Crisis on Infinite Earths. I was upset. I didn’t understand why DC had to go messing with my childhood. But under the able hands of Marv Wolfman and George Pérez, it was, frankly, a thrilling story. To me, when Marv and George killed Supergirl – and I’m still mightily pissed off about that! – that was it, man, I knew this was going to be a classic.

The only trouble was, it started off a wave of “mega-reboots” over at DC that sounded like “good business” at the time. And now, after some 30 years, only seems to make me, and everybody else, yawn.

Infinite Crisis. Final Crisis. Crisis, My Ass. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.

‘Cause most of these reboots, start-overs, begin-agains are so obviously an attempt to “save the life of the patient” that it’s insulting to the reader. Jim Shooter is quoted in the Times article as saying “This whole attitude of, ‘Oh, go ahead, start over, reboot,’ people get tired of that…as storytellers, I don’t know where we wandered off to.” I totally agree with him.

S-T-O-R-Y. A narrative. An account. A tale, yarn, legend, fairy-tale, chronicle. Something that stays with you. That for whatever reason strikes a resonant chord within.

Was The Lord of the Rings a business decision? Was Grapes of Wrath? A Tale of Two Cities? The Three Musketeers? Alice in Wonderland? The Man in the Iron Mask? Peter Pan? If I keep on going this will be a column about the Book-of-the-Month club.

I’m hoping this works for DC. I’m hoping the company doesn’t stay alive just to feed the licensees. I’m hoping that I’m thrilled again.

I’m hoping that Dr. Gregory House can pull another miracle out of his misanthropic hat.

TUESDAY: Michael Davis

MARC ALAN FISHMAN: In Memoriam

Columns
September 3, 2011

Ladies and gentlemen… We gather here today to mourn the loss of a cherished friend. DeeCee was many things to many people. Entertainer. Educator. Detective. Optimist. Friend. Let us take this time to recount those times that touched us, before DeeCee passed on into the ethereal void of blackness.

DeeCee, above all else, seemed impervious to the mortality we all must face. Since his birth in 1934 (back when we call just called him Nate Alypub) DeeCee has been one to cite the changing times as his own catalyst for reinvention. The world went to war, and with it, so did DeeCee. When our world became fixated on the cosmos above, did he not put on his space suit and power ring? Against his better judgment, DeeCee proudly sported a mighty and magnificent mullet in the late 80s. He was never afraid to put on a pair of cowboy boots. Let us never forget when we all thought he was dead, back in 1992. Even from those bleak times, he rose once again, stronger than ever. When the world grew grim and gritty, DeeCee broke his back in that tragic accident. But did he not pick himself up and reclaim his mantle without pause?

I want to take some time now too, to acknowledge DeeCee’s extended family. We were all crushed by the tragic end of his cousins Tan Gent and Elle Swirlds. DeeCee was always so proud of their accomplishments! I’m touched to see in attendance today DeeCee’s brothers, Vern Tigo and Wiley Storm. Vern, DeeCee was always quick to note how you were the sobering realist and macabre dreamer to his starry-eyed optimist. And Wiley… How could we ever forget when DeeCee adopted you, and kept you afloat during your more troublesome past?

DeeCee was rich in family, but even richer in friends. I see gathered here today a veritable pantheon of personalities, in support of the loss of our friend. Marv-El… we all know how you and DeeCee butted heads throughout your friendship. Before you moved out to Hollywood, you and DeeCee could always be seen sitting in the park, debating this and that. And who among us didn’t beam ear to ear when you two ended a years-long feud and amalgamated your friendship! Also among us are some of DeeCee’s friends from later in life… Val, Imogene, “Boom-Boom” Burt, Ava Tarr… so nice to see you all.

It may very well be the elephant in the room today, friends. DeeCee’s untimely demise was something so many of us saw coming. Who here didn’t scoff just a little this past spring, when he told us all about his trip to Flushing? “Everything will be different after this!” he told us. And we just let him go. He’s had these flights of fancy time and time again. Crisis after Crisis, did we not keep supporting him? He’s always bounced back stronger, we told ourselves. And sure, this trip didn’t sound like anything we hadn’t heard him rant about before. Time travel? Alternate futures? It’s all old-hat for DeeCee. Who would guess though that in a single splash, he would be forever lost to us all. Who among us today thought his last words were anything more than the usual hyperbole DeeCee was known for using?

But I digress. Today’s service isn’t meant to wallow in the demise of our cherished friend. DeeCee would want us to look to the future, as he always had. Most importantly, he would want us to acknowledge his biggest legacy, his son, DeeCee Jr.

Junior is just a week old, and it will be a challenge for him to live, thrive, and survive in these tough times. DeeCee’s legacy will live on in Junior. Though his first steps seem to have stumbled, let us all here in attendance support him here in his infancy. He has the world at his fingertips, and his potential is limitless. May he be inspired by the past, but now wallow in it. May he grow into his own man over time. Let the world adopt him with new eyes and old hearts. For within his gleaming eyes are infinite worlds of infinite possibilities.

Let us now rise, as DeeCee’s charred, limp, decimated body is lowered into the ground. Amen.