My Review of Dark Horse Comics’ “Supernatural Noir”

Supernatural Noir by Ellen Datlow

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

My experience with short story collections leaves me with one general rule of thumb about them: in any given collection, most stories will be just okay, a few will be standouts, a few will be bad or worse. Supernatural Noir falls right into line with that rule.

While none of the stories are outright terrible, most are just fair to middling. There are some standouts, however; Melanie Tem’s “Little Shit,” Joe Lansdale’s “Dead Sister,” Tom Picirilli’s “But For Scars,” and, surprisingly, Caitlin R. Kiernan’s “The Maltese Unicorn” (“surprisingly” because I’d read only one Kiernan book before this story, and hated it with such a passion that I refused to read any more) are the great stories of this collection. They’re the ones that balance the noir and supernatural aspects perfectly, whether it be in the mere ghostly whispers in “But For Scars” or the entire world has embraced the supernatural as in “The Maltese Unicorn”.

The rest of the stories are okay. Solid enough, for the most part, but not as strong or as memorable as the ones listed above, and some seemed to struggle with the noir/supernatural balance well.

My only question is: Why isn’t there a Jim Butcher story in this collection?

View all my reviews

Worst Comics Publisher Of 2010

So here I am, ready to announce my pick for 2010′s Worst Comics Publisher.

But first, the runner-up!

Runner-Up:  DC Comics

Oh, DC.  You had an excellent year coming and completely blew it to Hell.

The biweekly, six-issue miniseries Batman: The Return Of Bruce Wayne, heralding the time-travel adventures of Batman as he struggled back from the past (more on that in another column) was poised to be a huge hit.  It had a superstar writer in Grant Morrison, the return of a character everybody and their weird uncles loves, and a rotating team of fantastic artists.  How could you possibly blow that?

Oh yeah – it was plagued with delays so badly that a series that should have been out and done in three months instead took seven.  Even for that talent and character, people lost interest.  The delays threw it out of sync with companion books like Batman and Robin, and the release of the completely inconsequential Bruce Wayne: The Road Home one-shots before the final issue of ROBR just confused whoever was still paying attention.  And then, just to make it worse, you released the Time Masters: Vanishing Point miniseries, about the adventures of Rip Hunter, Green Lantern Hal Jordan, and Superman as they searched the timestream for Batman. . .and it too was plagued with delays, which is death for a title that already starred characters no one really cared about.

That would be enough to make a bad year, but oh wait, there is more.

J. Michael Straczynski‘s run on Superman got people talking. . .for all the wrong reasons. It was arrogant, preachy, and heavy-handed to the point that the interludes, necessitated by health issues and Straczynski’s writing the much-better-received Superman: Earth One graphic novel, were liked much better.  While we’re talking about JMS, his changes to Wonder Woman’s costume went over like roadkill for dinner.  Don Kramer’s art couldn’t even save it.  Here’s hoping the next writer either changes it back or gives us a damn good reason for the change.

Other DC blunders?  Delays on The Flash (how does the Fastest Man Alive star in the Slowest Book On The Stands?), James Robinson turning the JLA into Teen Titans: The Grown-Up Years, replacing the all-ages Batman team-up series Batman: The Brave and the Bold with an all-new all-ages Batman team-up series called Batman: The Brave and the Bold (read that line again if you wish; I promise it won’t make any more sense the second time), letting Mark Guggenheim write JSA, and the Jonah Hex movie (which is nearly completely identical to Will Smith’s Wild Wild West movie.  Seriously.  The villains even plot to kill the same President, which makes me wonder what Garfield was up to that so many screenwriters want him dead).  The final nail in the coffin was their 100-page specials, which are just reprints of older comics.  Good for background info on some characters, but useless otherwise and, at $8 each, aren’t selling.  Just stop with the damn specials already, DC.

On the plus side, though, Paul Cornell is doing an excellent run on Action Comics right now.  And Grant Morrison’s Batman work has blown me away.

But, the saving grace for DC?

They listened to the fans.

When faced with rising costs, Marvel and DC both started hiking up prices from $2.99 to $3.99 per issue.  As long it was just a few series and miniseries, it wasn’t so bad.  But in the midst of a recession, fans took notice and starting dropping books.  When the unusually-large price increase started expanding to more regular series and virtually all miniseries in July, fans showed their displeasure by not buying comics.  In fact, industry-wide, there was a stunning 17% across-the-board sales drop in the month of August.  DC responded quickly, and favourably, by issuing a statement that they would drop prices back down to $2.99 in the new year, though, due to rising costs of their own, this would also mean dropping 2 pages per issue.  Hell, at least they listened and responded in a way that showed they understood the situation. (Marvel issued a similar “me too” statement 30 minutes later, but more on that in a minute.)

Despite all the errors and missteps, that single show of understanding kept DC from being the worst publisher of 2010.  No, that honour went to. . .

2010′s Worst Publisher of the Year: Marvel Comics

Oh, it was Marvel’s year, all right. . .Marvel’s year to suck.

Let’s start with over-saturation.  To help build the hype of an upcoming Deadpool movie, Marvel had Deadpool starring in four separate ongoing series this year (five, if you count Deadpool MAX) and at least 2 miniseries a month, plus guest appearances galore.  He appeared more than Spider-Man and Bruce Wayne, although he still came up short for the title of Most Overused Character (that title still belongs to Wolverine).  The once-beloved Merc With A Mouth became the Merc With Too Damn Many Books, and even the most hardcore fans were not willing to spend $20 a month on one non-bat-inspired character.  Sales plummeted, Deadpool lost popularity, and Ryan Reynolds, who was slated to star in the movie, instead signed a contract with DC to do more Green Lantern movies.  As of this writing, 2 of these books have been cancelled, which would have been great news approximately 20,000 dead trees ago, but now it’s too little, too late.

Speaking of cancellations, there were plenty of those, too. . .just on the wrong titles.  The well-liked series Atlas was cancelled for low sales after only five issues; the same for Thor: The Mighty Avenger.  Both books might have stood a chance had it not been for a sudden glut of comics titles on the shelf – a glut largely put there by. . .wait for it. . .Marvel Comics.

One can accept that when a company does a crossover, there are going to be extraneous tie-ins and such.  Marvel took this waaaaaaaaay too far in 2010.  It would have been acceptable if there had been a company-wide crossover, but, in addition to that crossover (Siege, which was terrible), there were also line-specific crossovers, like X-Men: Second Coming (which was actually good), X-Men: Curse of the Mutants (vampires are overdone, kids, let it go already), Shadowland (about Daredevil becoming master of the Hand ninja clan and taking over NYC; also, it sucked), and all of the 4 new Avengers-themed books, released to replace the previous 4 Avengers books that ended with Siege.  Each crossover had its own spin-offs and miniseries, very very few of which were readable and very few of which had any effect on the crossover story or the characters in them.  In addition to all that, of course, Marvel was also releasing the “Women of Marvel” one-shots, a new Strange Tales miniseries (which was worth reading), a slew of miniseries starring minor or new characters, and other useless pablum.

In short, in a time of belt-tightening and stretched dollars, Marvel Comics threw books at you like they’d forgotten that comics are a luxury item.

And Marvel appeared to recognize this mistake when they announced, 30 minutes after DC’s price-drop announcement, that they too would be dropping prices for 2011.

But, see, what they meant to say, and clarified in a later press release, was that they wouldn’t be putting out any new ongoing titles for $3.99.  They wouldn’t be dropping prices so much as they would be keeping them stable.  Same difference, right?  Well, not really, but okay. . .fair enough. . .oh, except that miniseries and specials are exempt from that rule, so those will be priced at $3.99.  And there will be a metric shitload more of them.  Hell, right now, Captain America, who’s barely interesting enough for one book, has two miniseries going. Thor, whose second ongoing was cancelled, has at least three going.  Spider-Man just ended one and I think has more on the way, in addition to the miniseries starring his nemesis Norman Osborn.  Basically, Marvel’s made it clear that there will be fewer ongoing series and more specials and miniseries coming your way in 2011 – an end-run around looking like they give a fuck about the stressed wallets of the fans.

 

A special message to you, the fans, from Marvel Comics.

Marvel, too, was plagued with delays this year; the final issue of Siege came out after series and specials that chronicled events that happened in that final issue.  Of course, said events were nearly immediately forgotten about, but whatever.  It’s not like Siege was worth remembering.

On top of all that, Iron Man and Reed Richards still have not been arrested and tried for the negligent homicide of Black Goliath.  This still pisses me off.

Oh, and Siege.

And Shadowland, which made me quit reading Daredevil.

Plus, The Sentry: Fallen Sun.

And the X-Men fighting vampires at the same time as the Ultimate Avengers.

And Marc Guggenheim writing, well, anything.

So there you have it, folks:  Marvel Comics, the Worst Comics Publisher of 2010.  Take a bow, Marvel!

 

Or, you know, don't. Just keep giving us the finger. Jerk.

VS – 1.9.10

Worst Comics of 2010

So once again, because I am horribly lazy, I’m taking ComicsAlliance’s list of the worst comics of 2010 and added my comments on them.  Luckily, I read most of them this year, so I can comment on them.

5.  VAGINAPOCALYPSE TIE – Titans: Villains for Hire and Nemesis #3

I read Titans: VfH and hated it.  The needless death of Ryan Choi, who was breathing new life into the tired costume of The Atom, really pissed me off.  Worse than that, though, was the death-by-burning-vagina of a child molester.  I’m thinking he had it coming, but still, a character who burns people to death with her vagina?  Come on DC, I know it’s a comic book, but really?  I would love to have been at that meeting.

WRITER: Okay, I got it, it’ll make the book dark and edgy for not for kids.

EDITOR: Hang on, I gotta finish this bottle of Mad Dog first.  Alright, Whatcha got?

WRITER: It’s a woman named Cinder, who has flame powers, but get this: she burns a guy to death with her vagina.

EDITOR:  Love it!

WRITER:  Really?

EDITOR:  I meant the Mad Dog, but your idea is good too, all three of you.

This is the only way I can imagine this idea being approved.

Having given up on Mark Millar some time ago, I didn’t read Nemesis.  That choice has now been validated.

4. JLA: Cry for Justice

This JLA-spinoff miniseries was just terrible.  James Robinson had a stellar run on Starman (ha!), but following it with this dreck made me wonder about his sanity. This did not bode well for his JLA run either, which goes down in history as the first book to make me miss Dwayne McDuffie’s writing.  At least the art was good.

The theory behind this team splitting off to become more pro-active, more aggressive, and chasing down the villains before they become threats, is fresh and new. . .for 1990.  Since then, there’s been Force Works, Fantastic Force, hell, even Justice League Task Force, and numerous other eminently forgettable books.  It’s been done before, it’s been done terribly before.  Cry For Justice made me cry for a better writer.  Even the “shock ending” of Green Arrow killing the villain (Prometheus, who had blown up most of GA’s hometown, blew off his adopted son’s arm, and killed his granddaughter) has been done before, in Mike Grell’s much-better Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters.

The art was good and was the best reason to buy the book.  Other than that, there’s nothing to see here people, please move along.

3. The Sentry: Fallen Sun

I’m just going to say this right now:  the Siege crossover was, by and large, completely f’in terrible.  I hated it.  It didn’t live up to the hype, didn’t even come close, and didn’t resolve all the issues it promised to resolve.  Some of the 83 bajillion spin-offs were good, but not many.

The “shocking spectacle” in issue #1 of thousands of people being killed during a battle between an Asgardian God and super-villains was exposed for a cheap plot device pretty quickly, as once it’s established as the flimsy excuse that Norman Osborn gives to invade Asgard, it’s never referenced again. A huge tragedy is forgotten about so fast that it seems like it never really happened.  In fact, just about all of this series is inconsequential.  The two major changes to the status quo, Norman Osborn’s fall from post-Secret Invasion grace and the death of the Sentry, actually do have some consequences, kind of.

One of those consequences, sadly, was the publication of The Sentry: Fallen Sun.

The Sentry, for those unfamiliar with the character, was created in 2000, following a marketing ploy that labelled the character as a “forgotten” Stan Lee character from the 1960s.  He was basically an overpowered Superman knock-off with crippling mental issues and an evil alternate personality, which explained why he wasn’t just wiping out villains left and right.

Anyway, this complete throwaway character finally died in the “shocking” anti-climax of Siege.  In its aftermath followed this memorial issue, Fallen Sun, which was actually worse than Siege.  The retconning of the Sentry into Marvel history was terribly, as everyone shared poignant moments that never happened.  And he was somehow immune to Rogue’s powers, so she slept with him?  What the fuck, Marvel?  Shouldn’t that have come up a little sooner than a throwaway scene in a throwaway comic about a throwaway character?

To sum it up, this book made me wish I was reading Tarot: Witch of the Black Rose instead.  At least that book is hilarious in its terrible-ness; The Sentry: Fallen Sun is a memorial book that’s sad for all the wrong reasons.

2. Justice League: The Rise of Arsenal

JLA: Cry For Justice was the gift that kept on giving.  Like herpes.  The infection of CFJ gave us the blisters that were Rise of Arsenal.  It’s an attempt to make a B-level character more prominent, and it succeeds. . .just not the way that the editors intended.

Remember when I said the Green Arrow’s adopted son and sidekick Roy Harper got his arm blasted off in CFJ?  This is his adventures dealing with the loss of his natural arm and the gaining of a new prosthetic one, as arms are rather important to someone whose entire gimmick is shooting arrows at people.  To make things even worse, it was Roy’s daughter that Prometheus killed in CFJ, so he’s dealing with that too.

How does he deal?

By returning to the heroin habit that made him and Green Arrow relevant back in the 70s, trying to have sex with the same villainess that was the mother of his daughter and failing because he’s impotent, and hallucinating that a dead cat is his daughter and beating up a bunch of homeless guys that he thought were threatening it, and finally getting his ass kicked by his former teammate Dick Grayson, who used to be Robin but is now a friend-ass-kicking Batman.

You know, there’s a lot of potential for a deeply moving, serious story in the scenario I just described.  Said potential is left completely ignored, however, in favour of shock value, horrible dialogue, and cheap dramatic tricks.  Make no mistake, this is four issues of hilariously awful comics that could have been great, thought-provoking comics.

But hey, it’s like I always said:  if you can’t laugh at an impotent junkie beating up homeless people, then what can you laugh at?

1. Superman: Grounded

Oh, Straczynski.  I had such high hopes for you on Superman.  Superman takes a walking tour of America to get back in touch with the country?  Soooooooooooo much potential in that!

And you blew it.

Instead of learning, Superman seems to be trying to teach.  He spouts overly-worded monologues on simple moral points, he flies people into the stratosphere for asking simple questions, the bad guys he does deign to fight are overly ethnic. . .was this written by Republicans?

The one part of this I really liked is the last Straczynski issue, in which he states that one doesn’t have to be a superhero to stop child abuse, one only needs “a pair of eyes, a voice, a phone. . .and ten cents worth of compassion.”  While I agree with the anti-child abuse sentiment and that any normal person can and should act to prevent it, Superman’s description means that people with only one eye, mutes, and those too poor to afford phones are completely useless in the fight against child abuse, which is not the case at all.  Way to discount the handicapped and the poor, Superjerk.

The issue after that was one that I really liked, and I thought that maybe the series was finally picking up. . .until I checked the cover and saw that it was written by G. Willow Wilson, who creator-owned book Air bored me to tears, but she did a good job with Superman’s supporting cast.

Anyway, Straczynski’s off the book now, so here’s hoping it picks up in 2011.

Next up: eh, I haven’t really decided yet.

VS – 1.7.10

Best Comics-Related News Story Of 2010

The year of 2010 was filled with superhero-related new stories, as more movies, events, and merchandise based on comic books made their way to Hollywood and retail stores.

But the best story, to me, was about a character that had not, until December, appeared in a single comic book.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Make-A-Wish Foundation, but in case you haven’t, here’s their deal:  they grant “wishes” for children with life-threatening medical conditions.  These wishes run the gamut from going to the US Open to being a pyrotechnician for Disneyland.  (My personal favourite was the wish for a pirate-ship playhouse; hell, I want one of those.)

Enter 13-year-old Erik Martin of Seattle.  Erik is living with cancer and had one wish:  he wanted to be a superhero.  One Thursday in April 2010, he got his wish.

The day began with a phone call from Spider-Man, who told Erik that the Seattle Sounders (our local soccer team) had been trapped in a locker room by the villainous team of “Dr. Dark” and “Blackout Boy.”  Erik was needed to defeat them in his alter ego of “Electron Boy.”  Taking up his provided costume and lightning rod, Erik was taken by his sidekick Moonshine Maid (who has an entirely different set of powers, several of them inappropriate for children, in the South) to Qwest Field (in a DeLorean, no less), where the Sounders were trapped in a locker room.  After freeing them with the aid of Lightning Lad (whom I hope was not forced to evade lawyers from DC Comics), Electron Boy posed for pictures and received an autographed ball and jerseys.

Good day, right?  And a good story?  Of course it is.  But it’s not even half over yet.

The Jumbotron sparked to life and showed the villains, cackling and taunting Electron Boy with pictures of a utility worker that they’d trapped in the top of his bucket truck.  Again, it was Electron Boy to the rescue, as he, with a 25-vehicle police escort, traveled to Bellevue to rescue the worker.  That job done, there was only one thing left to do: capture Dr. Dark and Blackout Boy!

After getting a tip that the villains were in the Space Needle and had trapped people on the observation deck, Electron boy and his team raced back to Seattle to free the trapped people and have a final showdown with Dr. Dark!

In the end, the villains defeated and Electron Boy stood triumphant, posing for pictures with the vanquished villains.  Electron Boy was presented with a key to the city and had the date of his adventures declared “Electron Boy Day” by the Seattle City Council. Said Erik, “This is the best day of my life.“

Before you think, “Well, that was easy; you just get some people to dress up in costume and there you go,” well, you’re wrong.  This took hundreds of volunteers, some of them semi-famous (the Sounders themselves, and Dr. Dark and Blackout Boy were played by two of the stars of The Discovery Channel’s hit Deadliest Catch). The 25-vehicle police escort required off-duty officers to give their time and close I-90 and I-405 for brief periods.  It was a massive effort from local actors, police, politicians, and athletes to give one little boy his greatest wish.

And it was totally worth it.  If you read that story without at least getting a lump in your throat, you have no soul.

But it’s not over yet.

In December, Capstone Comics published a comic book of Erik’s adventures defending Seattle, with all proceeds going to Erik’s family.  As everybody knows, you haven’t made it as a superhero until you have your own comic book, and now Electron Boy has been immortalized in print.

There was definitely bigger news in comics, but nothing so heartwarming, touching, and providing such a positive statement on humanity in general and Seattle in particular as this story.  It should be obvious as to why this was my choice for Best Comics-Related News Story of 2010.

2011′s winner will probably be about the team of real-life superheroes running around the Seattle area, but the year is young, so who knows what will happen.

VS – 1.7.10

2010 In Review Month Begins!

Now that 2010 is over (and not a moment too soon; jeesh, what a rough year) and we’ve escaped it mostly intact (I’ll miss you, left pinky toe – you were my favourite pinky toe!), it’s time to take a look back, scratch our heads, say “that was great,” or “that sucked” or “WTF was that?”.

So, all this week I’ll be doing articles about the best and worst of 2010!

See you soon, with the first article, “The Best Comics-Related News Story of 2010″!

VS -1.2.10

Cover Letters #2

More fun with covers!

"Excuse me, miss, but have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?"

"I know you fight robots and all, but did you have to steal Aquaman's shirt to do it? And you couldn't have put pants on first?" (From Magnus, Robot Fighter #2, featuring a not-at-all surprise appearnce by Li'l Magnus "It's Cold In Here, Alright?" RF)

"Ebony. . .and ivory. . .live together in perfect. . .harmony. . ."

The Green Hornet: You might defeat him, but he'll give you a wicked Purple Nurple on his way out.

Hulk: *sob* You never. . .you never really loved me!" Wolverine: "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way."

 

Next week: More editorial errors!

VS – 11.2.10

The Best Book You’re Probably Not Reading, #1

If you’re like me, or millions of other people out there, you probably spent at least a little bit of your childhood reading Archie comics.  Archie, for the 6 people out there who have no idea who I am talking about, is the red-headed all-American caucasian teenager growing up in the all-American small town of Riverdale, umm, Riverdale. . .okay, it’s never actually said what state Riverdale is in, but I’m gonna guess it’s not far from Springfield, where The Simpsons live, and only a couple hours west of Gotham City.  Hope that helps.  Anyway, Archie Andrews is has been in high school forever and is perpetually trapped in a love triangle between two unreasonably attractive women:  blond, girl-next-door-type beauty Betty Cooper, and rich-girl princess Veronica Lodge.  The comics have always been compilations of vignettes about his adventures with his best friend Jughead, romantic rival Reggie, and peripheral characters like ill-tempered and highly jealous Moose, Moose’s girlfriend Midge, Sabrina the Teenage Witch (yes, the one played by Melissa Joan Hart in the ’90s TV series), L’il Ambrose, supergenius Dilton, soda shop owner Pop Tate, and Chuck and Nancy, apparently the only people of colour that live in Riverdale.  The stories are always pretty basic, humourous, and the end of each story usually returned things to the status quo.

In case that got boring, though, there were always the spy stories of Archie as “The Man From R.I.V.E.R.D.A.L.E.”, Archie as superhero Pureheart the Powerful, The Mighty Archie Art players taking on Shakespeare and various other plays with a humourous take, et cetera. . .there were many variations of the character, but one thing remained constant: nobody ever grew up, nothing really ever changed.  Archie and friends never graduated, the 50s-style soda shop they frequented never closed down. . .in short, nothing real ever happened, and the comics were kept strictly divorced from whatever was going on in the real world.

Growing up, you probably read a little of these comics, maybe a lot.  But then you started changing, and Archie and company didn’t.  You sprouted hair in odd places and got funny feelings whenever non-familial members of the opposite sex (or, for some of you, the same sex) were around.  Archie never seemed to experience these things.  You had to start wearing deodorant; Archie never seemed to have body odor issues.  You faced all the myriad dramas of high school and found they didn’t end after five pages; Archie always had his problems solved in usually less than that and everything was cool again.  Archie never got drunk or hacked his lungs out trying to smoke a cigarette because he thought it would make him look cool.  Archie was only broke when it was funny; you learned the hard way it’s never funny to be broke.

In short, you grew up.  Archie and his friends did not.

So you left them behind, probably without even so much as a wave.  that’s how it’s been for the past 60 or so years of Archie:  he never changes.

Until this year.

Earlier this year, Archie comics ran a six-issue miniseries in the pages of Archie called “Archie Marries Betty/Archie Marries Veronica,” in which Archie walks down a strange path and is shown a future in which he married Veronica.  After three issues of that, Archie walks back down the path, takes a different fork, and is shown a future in which he married Betty instead. (I haven’t read this story yet, but I may buy the trade paperback when it comes out.)  It was a well-received story that got a lot of media coverage, but ultimately, it wasn’t real and Archie comics went back to their static world.

Sometime between then and now, Archie had his first interracial relationship with Nancy (there really weren’t any other black people in town besides Chuck, and I don’t think comic readers are ready for Archie to go black and bi at the same time), which was a bit of a long-overdue shock, but also a sign that maybe Archie’s world was opening up to the changing face of America and different societal attitudes towards interracial relationships.  It’s not much of a step for ward for Archie – really, that’s just taking him from the 50s to the 70s – but it’s a step nonetheless.

After that, someone had the idea to introduce a gay character to Archie’s world (the first openly gay character; Pop Tate’s always been in the closet), and so, that happened this year, a sign that Riverdale is becoming more diverse (and more fabulous!)  That was pretty recent, so we’ll see how that goes over with Archie’s fan base, most of whom may be asking their parents some uncomfortable questions soon. (To be fair, I did have some people that don’t normally buy Archie comics buy the issue debuting the new gay character.  I hope they do right by those new fans.)

And finally, someone at Archie Comics Publications headquarters said, “Hey, what if we kept telling the story of Archie being married, in two separate stories?  And we made it a lot like a soap opera?  And Mr. Lodge, Veronica’s dad, was a prick in both worlds?”

Ergo, Life with Archie: The Married Life, the best book you’re probably not reading.  In Life with Archie, Archie has finally followed you into adulthood. . .and found that life sucks.

Life with Archie contains two serial stories: one of Archie’s life being married to Veronica, one in which he is married to Betty.  While you might think this is the same thing as the miniseries I mentioned before, there is a difference, one I won’t discuss here so as not to give out spoilers.

To not give away too much, Life with Archie is the BESTEST MOST AWESOME ARCHIE BOOK I’VE EVER READ. This is a more mature book, though minus the more mature language and sex, keeping it still safe for more mature kids.

In the first serial story, Archie’s married to Veronica, wealthy, and unhappy – his wife is his boss and too busy with work and her father to pay much attention to him, he’s in charge of ruining the soda shop so Mr. Lodge can buy it cheap, his best friend won’t talk to him, and there’s nothing he can do about it.  His friends aren’t doing much better:  Midge left Moose because of his temper and jealousy, Jughead is fighting a losing battle to keep the soda shop afloat, Reggie works for Veronica and hates it, Betty is lonely and miserable, Dilton has mysteriously disappeared, and Mr. Lodge is secretly buying up the city as fast as he can to put up shopping malls and condos (okay, that part kind of has a populist-leaning edge to it – the wealthy millionaire as greedy, heartless money-grubbing developer – that’s all too close to the real world; if you live in Seattle or most other major cities you know exactly what I’m talking about). . .this is not the happy and unchanging rainbow-laden Riverdale you remember.  It’s roughly 3 million times better.  Yes, it’s a fresh coat of soap-opera paint on old Riverdale, but Archie wears it so well that you won’t care.

Between the two stories lies a vale of ‘tween-age crap that you’re better off skipping over and forgetting you ever saw.

In the second story, Archie marries Betty and is. . .also miserable.  He’s just miserable and poor, which is always worse than being miserable and rich.  Archie and Betty have moved to New York, so that Betty can work in the fashion world and Archie can make a go of his music career. . .which of course didn’t happen.  Archie can’t get decent gigs to save his life, and Betty, who works at Sacks 6th Avenue, has to take a pay cut in order to keep her job, when her earnings already were barely keeping them afloat.  Back in Riverdale, Jughead is having a hard time keeping the soda shop afloat, Moose has been dumped but he’s not ready to let Midge go yet, Reggie’s broke and unemployed, Chuck and Nancy are encountering difficulties in keeping their comic book shop going, and their old high shcool teacher Mrs. Grundy is dying of cancer, a revelation that causes the principal to propose to her. . .and Dilton has mysteriously vanished while studying parallel universes.

And that’s all in the first issue.

The second issue of Life with Archie is filled with even more twists and catches; there’s a happy scene in the “Archie Marries Betty” side that seems great. . .until the next page makes you realize that lifting your arms to cheer good news only makes it easier to get punched in the gut by bad news.

As Bill Ellis (one of my English professors) would say, “It’s good stuff!“

And indeed it is.  It’s so good, in fact, that I was interrupted while raving about it to a customer in the shop I work in by another customer who said, “I’m sorry, I know you weren’t talking to me, but you just totally sold me on that book.  Where is it?”

If you have any fondness at all for Archie and his friends, you have to read Life with Archie.  You owe it to yourself to see how well Archie has grown up, and how fascinating this trip into soap-opera real-life drama is.

If you don’t have any fondness for Archie, read it anyway.  It’s solidly-written and drawn in an art style that’s a beautiful homage to the late, great, definitive-yet-tragically-underappreciated Archie Comics artist, Dan DeCarlo.

Basically, go buy the book.  Now.  It’s worth it.

VS – 9.11.10

Adventures In Shoddy Editing, Part One

Being semi-literate comic books fans as we are, G (the other guy that works at the same shop I do) and I have noticed a recent rash spate epidemic of instances of shoddy editing in comic books.  He decided it would be a good idea if we scanned the mistakes and put them up on the internet, something I should have instantly recognized as corporate-speak for “you’re going to put them up on the internet.”  (For future reference: whenever anyone you know that works in a corporate environment tells you that “we” need to do something, they really mean and fully intend for you to do something.)

That said, yes, I do want to call attention to these mistakes because, as IBM’s James Mathewson points out here, the value of editors in the literary world seems to be declining in the face of cost-cutting expenditures.  This would be a bad idea.  Having worked as an editor for a small publisher, I can honestly say that we need editors more than ever, to maintain cohesion and language as schools lose funding.  I learned a lot of my vocabulary from books when I was growing up (and still mispronounce words that I’ve never actually heard anyone say yet); the value of books for extending the vocabulary and literacy of both children and adults has not lessened at all since I was a boy and dinosaurs roamed the earth.

The worst offender in the comics world? Far and away, it’s Marvel Comics.  The House of (Bad) Ideas is swiftly becoming the House of Bad Editing, as seen in this example from Heralds #2:

And sddenly, Marvel editors forgot how to use spellcheck. I have to remember, though, that nobody’s perfect. . .

X-Men vol. 83bajillion #1

. . .not even with mutant editing powers.

Spellcheck, to be fair, can be a huge pain in the ass that slows down the entire publishing process by upwards of 6 minutes a day.  So let’s hear it for those editors who, despite the enormous pressures they face, still use it!

New Avengers vol.2 #1

The conversation continues as follows:

Dr. Strange: Our word?

HellStrom: Yes.  They’re invading our word.

Dr. Strange: Our word?

HellStrom: To your mother.  Yes.

The invasion's first casualty. Yo Vanilla, RIP.

Don’t worry, true believers; we’ll get through this together. . .

Prince of Power #2

. . .or maybe not.

You know, perhaps we’re all just better off without. . .without. . .without something. . .I can’t remember what we’re better off without.  Frank Castle, do you remember?

PunisherMax #9

You heard the Punisher, kids: stay indoors!  We’re better off without out!

I think I hear DC editors snickering in the back. . .why are you guys laughing?  Look at these two mistakes from Justice League: Generation Lost #1:

"I just beat your ass with a pipe. I don't have to use the right words."

Give the DC editors credit for at least using spellcheck, even if they didn’t bother to make sure that the words were the proper choices.

The award (at least for this episode) for Worst Editorial Mistake goes to, you guessed it, Marvel Comics, for this mistake on the cover of Marvel Zombies #5:

While I’m sure that Mr. van Lante was thrilled to finally see his name on the cover of  a comic, I’m sure that Fred van Lente, who actually wrote the book, was less than amused.  Hopefully they spelled his name right on the checks.

Till next time, Excelsifore!

VS – 8.2.10

A Few Select Words For Hewlett-Packard

Dear Hewlett-Packard,

Fuck you.

Why?

Because I already have software that can run a scanner quite well, and don’t need your shite “HP Scanning” software program that you so thoughtfully made part of the installation process.  It’s called Photoshop, and it’s roughly 17.4 million times better than any scanning or image editing software you will ever put out.  In fact, it worked fine when it came to controlling your printer, until your install process (and didn’t I already go through an install process when I connected it as a wireless printer?) denied it access.  Instead, it starts up the HP Scanning program, which committed the following dick moves:

• did not allow me to rename the file
• sucked at rotating and manipulating the image before scanning
• did not allow me to choose where the file would be saved, instead choosing to inform me that the file would be saved in a folder it created called “My Scans”, in a subfolder labeled with today’s date
• repeatedly denied Photoshop access to the scanner
• peed in my cornflakes (metaphorically)
• saved the file in .pdf format.  PDF?  Seriously?  WTF?  It didn’t even give me the option of saving as a .jpg, WHICH WAS WHAT I’D WANTED TO DO.
• sucked
• saved the file in an unreasonably huge format
• hogged resources in ways I thought only Microsoft products could legally do
• really fucking sucked

Photoshop, by way of comparison, would have allowed me to name the file, save it in a directory of MY choosing, and saved it as whatever format I wanted.  Instead of making the process easier, your megalomaniacal control over the output made the process far less convenient for me, as I had to re-open Photoshop (the resource-hogging made it necessary to close Photoshop to have the computer run at anything above the speed of death by natural causes), find the stupid directory your program created without asking me if I wanted, open it, and re-save it in the format I wanted, in the directory I wanted, like I should have been able to do all along if your fucking selfishness hadn’t demanded that I NOT be able to use the very-capable software that I already had.

If I’d actually paid for this printer/scanner/fax machine/dictatorial piece of shite, I’d be even more pissed.  But I didn’t, thank Jebus.  My roommate bought it, because she’d lost the install software for her Dell printer and needed a printer for her new laptop.  If she’d asked me beforehand, I would have helped her find the drivers and such that she needed online, or helped her get a replacement copy, or even built a new printer out of silverware and stale corn chips; ANYTHING to avoid buying a fucking HP printer.

To be fair, this is my second experience with your shitty products.  I bought one of your printer/scanner/fax machine/factory of suck combos two years ago, when my old printer finally died and I needed a new one.  I kept it for two days, the majority of which I spent on the phone with your tech support, trying to get the bloody thing to work, before I returned it to Best Buy.  A more accurate description would be “hurled it through the plate glass window of Best Buy,” an action which they completely understood and did not press charges over.  I bought, instead, a Canon printer/scanner/ fax / pleasant experience combo, and would be using it today had it not been for a hard drive crash last year and the loss of my own installation software during a move.  Rest assured that instead of taking the should-be-convenient option of using your printer again, I will spend the time searching for drivers for the Canon unit, which still functions well and is not, by any means, nearly as dickish.

Fuck you, HP.  Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck you! Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-uck-uck-uck youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.  Fuck you.  I just can’t say it enough. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck you.  I literally cannot say “fuck you” hard enough.  I need help.

Hey, Crazy-ass Batman, what do you have to say to HP?

A man of few words. . .two, to be exact.

Thanks, Crazy-ass Batman.  Couldn’t have put it better myself.

VS – 7.6.10

Cirque du Soleil Kooza: A Brief And Overpriced Review

So, last night (July 1st), I went to see Cirque du Soleil: Kooza, currently playing at Marymoor Park in Redmond, just east of Seattle.  I went with my 9-year-old daughter, as the tickets were my Father’s Day present.  It was the best Father’s Day present I’ve ever gotten, and yet it was also the most expensive for me, due to the ABOMINABLE PRICE GOUGING.  Let me say now that the HORRENDOUS PRICE-GOUGING did not in anyway detract from the show itself, which was more incredibly freaking awesome than the human brain can tolerate.  I recommend buying the DVD of the performance, because there’s no way you’ll be able to remember all of the unbelievable feats of acrobatics and gymnastics that you’re going to see.  You will, however, have no problem remembering the TERRIFYING PRICE-GOUGING.

Before I talk about the show itself, let me take a few minutes to discuss the RELENTLESS PRICE-GOUGING that occurred every step of the way, from parking to seating.  In fact, I’ll just give you an itemized list:

1. Parking that was less than half a mile away from the door: $15 (Dear Downtown Seattle:  I will not complain about your high parking lot prices ever again for a long time for at least a month.)
2. One hot dog that was clearly the runt of the litter, one large popcorn, one “souvenir cup” orange Fanta: $16.20
3. One souvenir program that was only 1/2 advertisements: $13
4. One hat ($19, but it was a really cute hat for my daughter), one DVD of a previous Kooza performance ($25,) two buttons ($1 each), one pencil ($2): including tax, $51
5. Gummi Bears, Peanut M&Ms, 20 oz. Minute Maid Pink Lemonade: $12
6. Gas getting there and back: $12 (I can’t blame them for that one, though)

So, if you’re keeping track, I’ve already spent $109.20, thanks to the GODAWFUL PRICE-GOUGING, and haven’t even seen the show yet.  I spent nearly as much as was spent for the tickets.  I swear, going to see DMB at the Gorge is actually cheaper (including gas), but let’s see those guys do high-wire acts.  I haven’t had a date that expensive since the one that earned me a daughter, and even then only if the price is adjusted for all subsequent costs.

Okay, enough about the MULE-CHOKING PRICE GOUGING. On to the show itself.

After the PRICE-GOUGING THAT MADE BABY JESUS CRY, we found our seats and waited for the show to begin.  Clowns and performers did various sketches in and with the crowd while we waited for the show to begin; one gave my daughter a balloon sceptre with a heart on top that was very cute (and free, which made the DANGEROUSLY VIRULENT PRICE GOUGING a little easier to take).  They even chided members of the audience that were late arriving (“Eight o’clock looks like THIS!” said one clown, spreading his arms in mimicry of a clock.)  Then the show began.

Kooza is the story of a young, innocent clown, who is just trying to fly his kite and having no luck when a Trickster appears (in the most awesome pimp suit imaginable) and uses his powerful wand to whisk the boy away to Kooza, a land of many mysterious and magnificent wonders.  The Trickster takes the boy to meet the King and his two clowns (one of whom has a leg-humping addiction) and see the many sights of Kooza.

Where to begin?  The dancers/tumblers were great in their own right, but warm-ups for what followed.  The band and the singers performed excellently, and I may be in love with one of the singers.  Let me also mention now that the costumers for this show deserve every praise that can be heaped upon their heads; the costumes were always elaborate, always stunning, and eye-catching without being distracting.  They were as fantastic and colourful as the world they were supposed to represent, and I fervently hope the costumers get their fair share of the CORONARY-INDUCING PRICE GOUGING money.

The first jaw-dropping, eyes-widening, heart-stopping moments for me, though, came with the contortionists, two ladies who are either quadruple-jointed or do not actually have bones.  I didn’t think human bodies could be bent that way even once, let alone repeatedly, and still survive; I do believe that, during their performance, several chiropractors fainted.  The part that sticks out most in my mind is one of the ladies, who I may also have fallen in love with, doing the familiar breakdance move “The Helicopter,” in which a person rotates their legs in the air from side to side while also rolling their upper body on the ground.  Imagine that, but imagine the upper part of the body not moving at all, laying fixed upon the ground as the legs spin around and even touch the ground in what appears to be a demented, but fascinating, lower-body tarantella, pivoting 360 degrees at the spine.  Seriously, get the DVD, because my feeble description does not do it justice.

This act was followed by the trapeze artist, a lady who also claimed a fair stake in my romantic future by sheer dint of having far more testicular fortitude than I ever could possess.  My daughter assured me that she could do some of the moves this lady did, and I’m sure she could given her gymnastics training, but as a father I could never allow her to try until cybernetic replacement body parts become widely available.

Next came the unicycle duo, about whom I will say this:  any man who can ride a unicycle in a steady circle while spinning a woman about his head and shoulders is a man I will never, ever f@$% with.  Not even if he was directly responsible for the APOCALYPTIC PRICE GOUGING.

The last act of the first half was the double high-wire act, and, as any good high-wire act should make happen, this one stopped my heart a few times.  It’s one thing to stand still on a high wire with a pole to help your balance; it’s quite another to be the guy who has to leapfrog over the first guy and land on your feet.  (He blew it the first time and spun around the rope, but nailed it the second.  I often wondered if the “mistakes” were intentional and designed to heighten the tension; if so, they worked very very well.) And it’s another thing all together to be the guy that has to stand on a chair balanced on a pole held up by two people riding bicycles that are balanced on the tightrope.  That caused some breathless moments too.

At the end of this, the innocent naive clown gets hold of the Trickster’s wand, and manages to use its power in the exact wrong way; as the Trickster laughs maniacally, the world of Kooza is plunged into darkness, and the first half ends.

I should mention that between the acts, while the stage crew is doing setups and such, or even just to fill breaks, the King and his jesters are on stage, performing hilarious acts of silliness and performing magic tricks with the audience.  The balloon-gifting clown also reappears, being pursued by the police (who would also be wise to investigate the CRIME-AGAINST-HUMANITY PRICE GOUGING going on outside); there is also a pickpocket/magician providing entertainment as well, when he is not being pursued by the police.

Second half.  Kooza has been plunged into a dark, nightmare world; the King and his jesters are chased away by an army of rats and the dancers/tumblers, brightly clad in red and white in the first half, are now dressed as skeletons with an awesome fashion sense and led by a Skeleton King in a pimp suit every bit as awesome as the Trickster’s, but a lot more sparkly.  After some dancing and tumbling, we finally come to the act that truly took my breath away banished all thoughts of THE PRICE GOUGING MOMMA WARNED YOU ABOUT:  The Wheel Of Death.

The Wheel Of Death is actually two wheels, joined by struts and suspended around a suspended floating axis.  The wheels are hollow, allowing someone to stand inside of each as they rotate, and you’ll come to realize it is their motion that dictates the revolutions of the wheel.  Then you’ll forget about science the first time you see them jump inside of the wheels as they rotate and realize they could very easily fall to a messy death.  It’s an incredible feat of balance and motion and rotation that is only matched in spectacle by the point at which they stand on top on the wheels, riding them around and jumping rope on them in a heart-stopping, breathtaking, jaw-dropping, eye-popping, physics-defying display of gymnastics and. . .hell with it, just buy the DVD already.  It will really just blow your mind.

The Hoop Mistress came next, and really, seeing a woman that’s able to rotate several hoops around different parts of her body at different speeds is just incredible.  She’d make one hell of a dance partner, and I may be in love with her as well.  At the very least, I want her to be my date to the next hula-hoop contest I go to, and if you thought you were hot s#!^ for getting 1000 spins on Wii Fit, she’ll make you feel really really bad.

After the hoops, the chair-balancing act, and I have to give that guy a lot of credit for both being willing to get up on a 30-foot-high stack of chairs and for wearing a sumo diaper while being the size of Bruce Lee.  He was good, but just not as breathtaking as some of the other acts were.

Last, but certainly not least, was the teeter-totter board, which was a see-saw put to gymnastic use.  Tumblers were launched onto pyramids, off of pyramids, through the air. . .and as difficult as that looked, imagine people doing it on stilts and landing standing up – on stilts.  It was, well, awesome.  Their costumes, it should be noted, reflect the brighter colours of the first half of the show, signifying, I think, that the darkness wrought by the innocent clown is finally wearing off.

At the end, the young clown bids farewell to Kooza and returns to his own world, albeit with a new crown, courtesy of the King, and a new, much more colourful kite that he now can actually get to fly.  Maybe a little thin on story, but on performance, there’s no beating it.

Kooza was awesome, incredible, fantastic, unbelievable, smooth, breathtaking. . .every adjective I can throw at it.  It was the best circus of any sort I’ve ever seen, and one of the best parts is that there wasn’t a single mistreated animal within miles of the place (unless you count the contortionists’ spines).  If you have a minimum $200 to spare, and don’t mind GIANT ALBACORE PRICE GOUGING, I heartily, fully, and fervently recommend going to see Cirque du Soleil: Kooza.

VS – 7.2.10