The Monday Shuffle

Even though I label this blog as "comic books and popular culture," let's be honest: I mostly talk about comics. I rarely talk about books, I even more rarely talk about television or movies, and I never seem to talk about music. All of that stuff is extremely important to me, and I have opinions on all of those things, but I don't seem to feel the need to blog about them as often as I blog about comics.

So here's my small attempt to make up for the lack of music blogging by playing that game we all know and love: The iPod Shuffle! Here are the rules, for those of you who don't know. You set your iPod to "shuffle," list the ten songs that pop up (IN ORDER and WITHOUT SELF-CENSORSHIP--that embarassing stuff that pops up is part of the fun), and then you comment. That's it. By the way, I really have nothing intelligent to say about music, but I do have 1018 songs on my iPod for some reason. Here's what popped up:

1. Vetiver, "Be Kind to Me" This is a hipster song from The Believer 25th Issue Compilation. I'm not a big fan of this track, but I am a BIG, BIG fan of The Believer. It's my favorite magazine, definitely. I read it immediately upon receipt each month. Subscribe!

2. Albert Hammond, Jr., "Well...All Right" I like this solo album a lot. This guy is from The Strokes, if you don't know, and his solo tracks, like this one, have a smooth-groove goin' on. If you like teddy bears and polyester shirts, you'll like this song. If you don't like that stuff, you should still listen to this guy's album. It's good.

3. Fiona Apple, "Criminal" The Mark Romanek music video for this song is amazing. He's apparently preparing to direct a Tom Hanks thriller and a Benecio Del Toro-as-a-werewolf movie. I'll see those. Romanek knows what he's doing. But why am I talking about the video? It's supposed to be about the music. Fiona Apple? She's pretty great too, right? Especially her first album.

4. Zero 7, "Left Behind" This is one of those songs that I have no memory of acquiring, yet here it is. I must have downloaded it off Salon.com. That's my guess. It sounds like something they'd have on their site. It's a cool tune. Mellow like teddy bears and polyester, of course.

5. Craig Wedren, "Night is Over" I have no idea where this one came from, either, and it's another teddy bear. This track actually reminds me of something that could have played at the roller rink during "couples skate." Only it's more hipster-tastic. I shouldn't make fun of this song, because it's another good one. 5 for 5 so far, even with that weak start--and "Be Kind to Me" wasn't THAT bad of a song.

6. The White Stripes, "Expecting" Yeah! White Blood Cells-era White Stripes. Finally, some pounding on the drums and guitar action. Not a teddy bear. More like a laser-equipped python. Badass. And, yeah, 6 for 6. No real stinkers, yet. I must have good taste.

7. The Flaming Lips, "Are You a Hypnotist?" Listening to the Flaming Lips always feels like swimming in pineapple Jello. And this track is no exception. I like pineapple Jello a lot, actually. Another winner.

8. Velvet Underground, "I'll Be Your Mirror" This one has Nico on vocals, as far as I know. Where the hell did I get this one from? I don't know, but it's pretty great too. If yesterday was a movie, this song would have fit perfectly over the "putting-the-kids-to-bed" montage.

9. The Clash, "Clampdown" This is the first song on the list that I've owned on vinyl and mp3. It's The Clash! They were the soundtrack of my teenage years more than any other band. I'm sure I'm not the only one who would say that. What a great song this is. I miss my mid-80s army surplus clothes when I listen to this stuff.

10. Beck, "Where It's At" If The Clash was the soundtrack of my teenage years, Beck was the soundtrack of the driving-back-and-forth-to-work-the-year-after-college-graduation period. I listened to this album a lot. And I still do, when the mood (or the iPod shuffle mode) strikes.

That first song was the weakest in the bunch, but this was a pretty incredible sequence of songs. I love Monday Shuffles!

(P.S. The first bad song I hit was at #39, off the Clash tribute album--it was Silverchair's terrible rendition of "London's Burning." Ugh. Silverchair. Bad stuff.)

Guns, Germs, and Giant Kickass Dinosaurs!

When Rob Bowman's 2002 film, Reign of Fire, came out, I remember thinking how fun the central idea was. Dragons vs. attack helicopters. Dragons vs. tanks. Dragons vs. soldiers. If the dragons are done right--as in, not like sissy dragons that talk with the voice of Sean Connery--then it's a concept that could work, or so I thought. Then I saw the movie, and while the dragon stuff was pretty well done, and the film featured a few exciting sequences, the human storyline bogged the movie down into mediocrity. I haven't seen it since 2002, so it's not fresh in my mind, but I remember thinking that the movie almost worked, but not quite. The plot was just an excuse to have soldiers fight dragons, and after a while, even soldiers fighting dragons isn't as cool as you want it to be.

I feel kind of the same way about The War that Time Forgot, written by Robert Kanigher and illustrated (mostly) by Ross Andru and Mike Esposito. As you can clearly see by the cover of the Showcase volume, TWTTF has a simple conceit: army vs. dinosaurs. These stories were originally published in DC's Star-Spangled War Stories in the early-to-mid 1960s, and I know the belief in those days was that a reader should be able to pick up any issue of a comic and find a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end, but Kanigher takes that assumption to a ridiculous extreme in this series.

Each issue not only features a complete story, but it basically features the same story. Over and over. The story goes like this: In the midst of the "big war," a group of soldiers come across a strange island, an island on which a GIANT DINOSAUR attacks them (and although I use the word "dinosaur," sometimes it was just a dinosaur-looking monster, or even a giant ape, just to break the monotony). The soldiers knock the dinosaur for a loop and escape, barely.

Every issue. For years.

Sure, sometimes there was more than one GIANT DINOSAUR, and the cast of main characters kept changing (which was part of the problem, as I'll get to in a minute), but it was the same plot again and again in each consecutive issue. And not in the way that a Silver Age Flash comic had the same stories again and again, either. At least in those stories, the different villains and conflicts caused some slight variations. For example, a Gorilla Grodd story would have a different feel than a Captain Cold story, because the villains would create problems that were unique to them. In TWTTF, although one dinosaur might have giant teeth while another might have GIANTER teeth, they were all pretty interchangeable. Even if one could fly and one could swim underwater, they were just basically mindless monsters. Issue after issue. For years.

I can understand the philosophy of providing a complete story in every issue, to give the new reader something entertaining without forcing them to track down any of the other issues, but I don't see why you'd want to do that at the expense of the readers you already have. Sure, a new reader might think, "wow! Cool story. I'll pick up another issue of this comic now that I've had such a great experience reading it!" But how many issues would it take for the reader to think, "okay. Not as cool this time, since it's the same story I read last month. I'll give it one more try. Oh. It's the same story again. Um, this is kind of repetitive"?

Kanigher was surely aware of the repetitive nature of the stories, and like he did with Sgt. Rock, he tried to create a recurring cast of characters to keep regular readers from growing bored with the comic. Except, unlike Sgt. Rock, none of the regular characters seemed to stick in TWTTF. You can tell the series started with just the simple idea inherent in its premise. The first appearance of TWTTF has, on its cover, the slogan "Dinosaurs vs. Tanks! Who Will Win!" and it's really as simple as that. I can picture an editor telling Kanigher (although Kanigher may have been the editor on the war books back then, so maybe it was his editorial side talking to his writerly side), while chomping on a cigar, "kids love these dinosaurs. Bring 'em back." So the first handful of issues make almost no logical sense as a group. Each issue features a group of soldiers unwittingly landing on monster island, and then reporting, in disbelief, back to their commanders.

Did the military have such terrible communication that nobody told the other outfits about this ISLAND FULL OF GIANT MONSTERS??? Even if the military wanted to keep it a secret, and there's no explanation of why they would, wouldn't they at least tell their troops to STAY AWAY FROM THAT ISLAND during the war! Didn't they have Nazis to fight or something?

Anyway, once Kanigher begins to realize that this dinosaur stuff is going to keep going, he starts introducing the potential recurring characters. And they all flop.

He tries characters like "The Flying Franks," trapeeze artists brothers who now fight together and use their high-wire skills to kick dinosaurs! Flop.

He tries the "Joe and the G. I. Robot," which basically consists stories in which Joe talks to himself a lot and then the G. I. Robot accidentally (or maybe not) saves the day. Flop (mainly because Joe is annoying and the robot doesn't have any personality at all).

He tries the "Suicide Squad," which you might think was a success, because it later became pretty famous as a concept in the DC Universe. But in these stories, "Suicide Squad" basically refers to any team which shows up on the island on a desperate mission. The suicide squad "members" don't communicate with eachother, and don't refer to other members we've seen in previous issues. My favorite, however, are the absolutely ridiculous "Morgan and Mace," the Suicide Squad team with the most personality. Morgan walks around with a gun to Mace's back, and literally keeps repeating lines like this, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then you could blow this mission! Just like that toboggan run you made that killed my brother--because you panicked! Remember?"

How can he forget, Morgan? You remind him of it on practically EVERY PAGE of every story you two guys are in. Mace, apparently, killed Morgan's brother when they were in the Winter Olympics together. A toboggan run of death! Morgan won't let it go, and Mace doubts himself at every turn: "I'll never get another chance...to make good...for failing Bill Morgan...and Uncle Sam--Never--Never---Never..."

The message of the story, kids, is that if you accidentally kill your bobsled partner in the Winter Olympics, you can make up for it by fighting GIANT DINOSAURS as your commanding officer (who, coincidentally is the brother of the very man you bobsledded to death) sticks his pistol in your spine.

Flop.

Are you surprised?

Sometimes even tanks vs. dinosaurs aren't enough. Turns out, they're not as cool as you want them to be.

A Philosophical Dialogue on New Avengers #32

I recently had the pleasure of debating the issues of "bad readers" and "authorial intent" with comic book scholar Douglas Wolk, author of Reading Comics: How Graphic Novels Work and What They Mean. Douglas is, along with Geoff Klock, one of the most important comic book theorists working today. What I love about Douglas (and Geoff) is that they read comics with passionate intensity, yet they write about comics with from an objective point of view, with style, charm, and intelligence. I had hoped to work with both of them on my upcoming Legion project, but Geoff's chapter was sabotaged by the botched finale of "The Lightning Saga," and he was forced to bow out of the project. I still have hopes that Douglas can find time to write his piece on the Giffen-era Legion, but, in the meantime, he and I had a chance to discuss my controversial interview comments from earlier this week. The entire text of our lengthy discussion, which is framed around our reading of New Avengers #32, can be found at Sequart.org, posted under the title "Good vs. Bad".

Check it out!

(By the way, Douglas's Reading Comics book is a MUST-BUY! Read it now, before the other cool kids do.)

Scalped! What do you think?

If I have time this weekend, I'll go into more detail on this later, but I think Scalped, by Jason Aaron and R. M. Guera, is the best Vertigo comic in years. I think DMZ and Fables are both solid books, but, based on the first handful of issues Scalped looks to be something quite amazing. It's like David Milch meets Robert Altman if that makes any sense.

Has anyone else been reading Scalped? What do you think about it?

And if you disagree with me, I'd like to see why you think DMZ or Fables are superior to Scalped in any way. Make your case.

Enough with Insults: Bring on the Ninja action!

A few years ago, after a late-night, post-SDCC drunken conversation, my brother and I came up with some ideas that would eventually turn into the Ninja Wolf mini-comic. I actually wrote and drew a total of four issues of that comic, along with some other small projects, like the 24-hour comic I did at the Brattleboro Museum and Art Center. But Ninja Wolf has been dormant for a quite a while as I worked on more scholarly writing.

Until now!

My friend, the brilliant artist Todd Casey, has redrawn my fourth Ninja Wolf story in his own inimitable style (and the pages posted here are from his issue--pages 6 and 8 to be precise--click on the images to enlarge). Now titled Ninjawolf our sample comic was handed out at the MoCCA art festival, and we're debating whether or not to do more stories with the Ninjawolf and Squidhunter characters, or to move on to a couple of other projects we have in the works.

For those of you who don't know much about the Ninjawolf and Squidhunter concepts, here's who they are, in a nutshell: Ninjawolf was an orphan raised by ninjas, then subsequently raised by wolves. Squidhunter is a former millionaire playboy who battles undersea robots shaped like aquatic beasts. They're best friends, but Squidhunter is kind of an arrogant, selfish jerk. And by "kind of" I mean "totally."

In the back cover of our preview issue, I include a section labelled "Coming in future issues..." and here's what it says:

• In issue #38, "Holiday Miracle," Squidhunter, betrayed by Ninja Wolf, abandons his Aquadome on a quest for the real meaning of Christmas. He learns the most important lesson of all: Christmas isn't about presents or sledding. It's about kicking people really hard.

• In issue #54, "Showdown 1985," Ninja Wolf learns the true origin of the wolfpack who raised him as a boy, and he begins to question the intentions of those gentle beasts. Also, Squidhunter adopts a koala, then mails it to his cousin when he learns that it can't swim or shoot a grappling gun.

• In special landmark issue #75, "Seaweed Apocalypse," Squidhunter returns from space to discover that all of Earth's aquatic vegetation has been replaced by evil robot duplicates. With Ninja Wolf's help, Squidhunter commandeers Time Capsule Alpha and launches into an uncertain future. A special back-up feature spotlights Koala Boy's adventure in Canada with special guest Hulk Hogan!

So, do you guys want to see more of Ninjawolf and Squidhunter or what?

Name-Calling: All the Cool Kids are Doing It!

I've already updated everyone on the Comic Book Resources interview/Comic Geek Speak controversy, but just to provide a scorecard, the interview response that seemed to piss people off the most was when I said "I always get really frustrated with people who say 'I don't get it' or 'it just doesn't make any sense.' I just think that people who say that are just bad readers. They just don't know how to read. To be a reader, it's not just figuring out the obvious stuff, it's seeing the underlining patterns, seeing beneath the surface, seeing the symbols and themes, even if you don't have the background to analyze all those things." I also say that authorial intent doesn't matter in the interpretation of a text. You might disagree with my statements, with my philosophical belief about what makes a good reader, but here's how some posters at the Comic Geek Speak message board chose to respond, in order of appearance, and directly quoted:


(1) "This guy gives credence to the phrase 'Those who cannot do, teach.'"
(2) "He's a dick"
(3) His opinion is utter crap
(4) His dismissal of the author's intent based on what he reads into subjective work (ie. art) is idiotic
(5) He comes off as pretty didactic and even vain to me
(6) I can't reward that snotty attitude
(7) It looks like some one has been handing out literary degrees at the Troll academy.
(8) You sir, are nothing more than an affronterous coxcomb

I don't take that stuff personally--I find the whole thing ridiculous.

If I weren't talking about comic books in the interview, but I were talking about Shakespeare, or Joyce, or Pynchon, do you think posters at the literary message boards would have flamed me for what I said?

Why do comic book readers have such low self-esteem?

Me vs. the Comic Geek Speak Board! The action-packed beginning...

Remember yesterday, when I said I liked the third part of the CBR interview because I came across like a dick and started offending people by saying if they didn't understand the deeper meaning of comics then they couldn't read?

Well, the guys on the Comic Geek Speak message board agree with me! They think I'm a dick, too!

I registered over there as soon as I saw the response, but I need their approval before I can post, and I want to jump into the fray now, man! This is my honor I'm defending. Plus, I wanna stir things up! I'm a dick! Let's keep that debate going!

So, since I can't post over there, I'll excerpt some of the relevant comments and reply right here, right now. Take that, you 24-hour waiting period, or whatever it is they have that won't let me post yet.

Steve Bryant writes: "I don't care what the author intended." So this guy [meaning me, Timothy Callahan] is the arbiter of what all stories are about, regardless of the intent of the creator. Like I said, I'm just an artist. I draw comics. This guy gives credence to the phrase "Those who cannot do, teach."

My Response: Ouch, Steve. Wait, because I don't care about authorial intent, I must not be able to draw? I'm not sure I see the connection, plus, you must not have seen my freakin' awesome picture of NINJAWOLF FIGHTING ALIENS! Damn, look at that masterpiece. Still think I can't do, Steve? And even if that drawing kind of sucks, so what? Authorial intent has been invalidated since the days of the New Critics 80 years ago. And what the author intends clearly does not matter to reader interpretation at all. Example: What did Shakespeare intend Hamlet to mean? We have no way of knowing, so does that mean that we can't interpret Hamlet or that Hamlet has no meaning? Of course not. We base our interpretation on the EFFECT of the text, not on the INTENT. That's how it works, man.

Choanata writes: I just read that interview there, and from the subtext, I'm able to determine he's a dick. That may not be what he was going for, but all the signs point to it, regardless of his intent. It's funny how someone I've never even heard of can do one interview and make me think his opinion is utter crap.

My Response: Now that's what I'm talking about! See. I didn't intend to be a dick. I knew I sounded like one afterwards, but I didn't start that part of the interview by thinking, now's when I get all dicky! So, his interpretation is based on the effect of the words, rather than the intent. Exactly. (And p.s., is my opinion crap BECAUSE I'm a dick, one wonders? Or for some other reason? Because I think it's possible to be both a dick and have a useful opinion, isn't it? What say the readers?)

Citizen Dave writes: I don't think that's what he means. It's perfectly valid to search for ideas and meanings that the author may never have intended. Literature classes have been based on this for centuries. It's up to the reader to find the meaning in what he/she reads. I understand his frustration. It's one thing to state that you cannot see the secondary, underlying meanings, it's another thing to simply refuse they exist and accuse others of "reading too much into it". And, teachers are an invaluable resource who are underappreciated and underpaid.

My Response: I love you, Citizen Dave. You make the rest of us citizens very proud.

My Pal and Yours, Steve Bryant comes back with: I agree with your statement, Dave. However, his dismissal of the author's intent based on what he reads into subjective work (ie. art) is idiotic. Before stating something inflammatory, he should consider his words more carefully.

My Response: Dismissal of authorial intent is idiotic? Tell that to John Crowe Ransom! (Look it up, it's the internet.) And what did I say that was inflammatory again? That part about authorial intent not mattering in interpretation. It doesn't. It matters in creation--I certainly hope the author has some sort of intent, and it's not all just random words. But not in interpretation. Although, wait. What about William Burroughs's "cut-up" technique? He clearly had no authorial intent (in terms of the meaning of the sentences and paragraphs), but the sentences and paragraphs end up with meaning anyway--a meaning determined by the reader. So, scratch that. Authorial intent doesn't even necessarily matter in creation.

Bryan, the guy I ACTUALLY offended because he's the one I was saying was a bad reader, writes: I certainly won't deny saying all of those things. I'm a pretty firm believer in them. However, I think he should go on to quote Matt Fraction as saying "it's okay if you don't get it, not everyone will." If he's such an expert he should know how to take things in context. That's all I'm saying.

My Response: Oh, Bryan. I really, really want to go on the show and debate this over the magical internet airwaves. Please invite me on. But I don't think Matt's response really helps your case all that much. I mean, it is okay if you don't get it. I don't care if you don't get it. But to say there is no meaning is ridiculous. There's always a meaning. Even a Michael Bay movie has a subtext! (And, Steve, it's probably not the one Michael Bay intends.)

The esteemed PurpleBelly writes: Read what you what, read into it what you want. Comics are great because they can reach different people on different levels, they don't have to reach everyone on every level. Is it just me or die it sound like Grant maybe be a little annoyed his hard work/deep sub-text/meta text isn't appreciated by everyone?

My Response: PurpleBelly, you, my friend, are clearly a bad reader if you thought Grant Morrison was the one answering the questions. Um, it was me. Did you even read the thing you're commenting about?

The magically delicious Fnord Serious writes: I can see where Callahan is coming from, as he is a professional reader, in a way. I think it would have been more politic to say that Bryan is a "non-academic reader" rather than a "bad reader". Bryan is reading for enjoyment. Callahan may be reading for enjoyment, but he is reading with a whole arsenal of tools that enable him to read a book in a different way, and most likely analyzing it out of habit. Neither way of reading is objectively "good" or "bad", just different.

My Response: Yes, but that's not much fun. It's more fun to stir things up and take a stand (to mix a metaphor). But, you know, I do think there are degrees of readers. Some readers are better than others. They either have more training, or have a more natural facility for seeing the meaning of a literary work. Some people can recognize symbols, allusions, rhetorical devices, etc more quickly than others, and that helps to make a more meaningful interpretation. When someone can do something well, we say that they are "good" at it. When they can't, we say they are "bad" at it. Why is reading different. And here's the thing: not because I'm some kind of super-teacher or anything, but I thnk I can teach Bryan how to understand literature (and comics) more deeply. I called him (and his ilk--you know who you are, and I probably pissed you off, didn't I?) a bad reader, true, but I think he can learn how to become a good reader. None of this, by the way, is to imply that every comic book story has some significant depth to it that only a good reader can decipher. Most comics are, basically, simple moral fables with punching (or, in the more recent comics, lots of talking about maybe punching at some point in the future). But a good reader should be able to recognize when a writer or artist is doing something with a bit more depth.

thefreakytiki comes out to add: Might I suggest the Geeks invite Mr Morrison on to the show to elaborate his point. I think when two individuals are there to "defend/explain" their P.O.V. that a greater understanding can be met.

My Response: Bryan, compared to these guys, you are looking like an amazing reader right now. Read the words, people! All of 'em.

Citizen Dave, cue awesome theme music, arrives to set things straight: Just so everybody is aware, it's not Grant Morrison making any statements here, it's Timothy Callahan, author of Grant Morrison: The Early Years.

My Response: Thanks once again, my friend.

Lobo shows up, yes!, to say: And I agree that subtext can exist outside of a creator's intent. Isn't there a whole branch of psychoanalysis that looks for subtext in what someone writes/draws, regardless of the creator's intent?

My Response: See, Steve, even the Czarnians know about the fallacy of authorial intent. And I never pegged Lobo as a college man, but he's clearly got some education hiding beneath all those chains and the Kiss make-up.

Paul joins the fun: The fact is, some people just don't like pesto. They aren't wrong. It's just not their thing. They're not a "bad eater". To say that someone who doesn't see that stuff is a bad reader is ludicrous. Many people don't want or need to read deep meaning. They just want to be entertained. One might make the converse statement that someone who writes something that is all deep meaning, with no surface entertainment value is a bad writer, if their book is being marketed to a mainstream audience. I don't happen to be one who would make that kind of statement, outside of playing devil's advocate, but there is something to be said for someone who can deftly do both. As to authorial intent, well sometimes one writes things a certain way, and these disparate influences from things they've read, seen or experienced come bubbling up to the surface (or perhaps just below the surface). It may not have been what they intended, but it's there nonetheless, due mostly to the allusions that they've made.

The reason that there are so many different kinds of comics out there is because there are so many different kinds of readers, and different things appeal to them. That's not a bad thing. It's what gives us choice.

My Response: Aww, Paul. You are so measured and logical. I can't make fun of anything. Well done, my friend. Although the pesto argument doesn't quite apply, since people do use the term "bad taste" all the time. I see your point though, but I'm not sure my argument has anything to do with convincing Bryan to like a certain type of comic. Just to recognize that there is a meaning beneath the surface, especially with Morrison.

ctowner1 replies to Steve's original post by saying: It's not that he's the arbiter - the point he's making is that his individual interpretation (just like YOUR individual interpretation) is just as valid as the author's interpretation. Once the author has created the work, it stands alone in the owlrd to be interpreted by any who experience it. No one's experience/interpretation is superior to any others. (it's just that some are more illuminating and interesting and more likely to invoke insight and discussion).

My Response: Exactly.

Jose Chung explodes with fists of fury--okay, not really: Kinda ironic that he slams Bryan while implying that everyone's interpretation is valid. Couple that with his reaction to his students and I get the feeling that a strictly textual interpretation is completely invalid with Mr. Callahan. I haven't read the whole article, and I don't really disagree with his points necessarily, but he comes off as pretty didactic and even vain to me: For example, the whole Wizard of Oz/DP parallel (so and so "is totally" this and "is totally" that--setting aside that it's not the most penetrating analysis ever, seeing as how one character is named Dorothy and the Tin Man analogue is, well, a tin man); and how he pats himself on the back (unintentionally, I'm sure) by telling how he pointed out something that Morrison says he wasn't aware of; then there's this quote: "I've just shown you it being there"; And this one: "I don't' care what the author intended". Is that a valid interpretation of the text? I'm just picking. He's probably a nice guy and just got riled up.

The excerpts I've seen have increased my appreciation of Geoff Klock, who I've heard on both the Animal Man and Matt Fraction podcasts and on both occasions came off as, first of all, a nice guy, and very knowledgeable without a whiff of condescension.

My Response: I'm vain because I use the word "totally"? See, Steve, that's an interpretation that has nothing to do with my intent. I thought the Wizard of Oz stuff was obvious too, but I have never seen anyone point it out before. But because it was obvious, I was shocked to see that Grant didn't even consider it. That's why it's a great example of interpretation vs. intent. Also, I am not a nice guy, I am a dick. See previous comments. And don't let Dr. Klockkkhammer lure you into his web of sweet, nice, pleasant, good guy stuff. It's all part of his plan to make you feel good about yourself.

Jer says: I personally love all that subtext jazz. But only a snob is gonna hold it against those who don't. This is leisure reading, for crying out loud. Get off yer high horse.

My Response: That's pretty dismissive of the entire medium. "Lesiure reading?' That's all it is? If it's just that, then why do we all care so much about it anyway? And I don't hold anything against Bryan at all. I'm bad at a lot of things. I'm really bad at baseball, for example. Does anyone hold that against me? If someone watches me play baseball, and says, "you're bad at baseball" after I strike out five times and drop every fly ball, does that make the other person a snob? Why is it different with reading?

And holy Hell, I have spent way too much time on this topic! Thanks for playing, everyone.

And seriously, I would love to go on the podcast. What do you say, guys?

The Finale of the CBR Interview!

The third part of the unbelievably extensive Comic Book Resources interview is now live. I can't believe Andy Khouri gave me a THREE-PART SERIES (!!!), but I certainly appreciate it. I enjoyed our conversation and I hope everyone enjoys reading all the stuff I talk about, especially when I become more of a dick at the end of the interview and start insulting people who don't like Morrison by saying they can't read.

Here's the relevant part, with labels added by me to identify who's talking:

CBR: As popular as Morrison is, there are a lot of comics readers who simply just don't “get it.” As your book details, Morrison's work tends to be deeply layered and in some cases difficult if you're not familiar with the literature or philosophy that he's weaving into his work.

Me: I always get really frustrated with people who say “I don't get it” or “it just doesn't make any sense.” I just think that people who say that are just bad readers. They just don't know how to read. To be a reader, it's not just figuring out the obvious stuff, it's seeing the underlining patterns, seeing beneath the surface, seeing the symbols and themes, even if you don't have the background to analyze all those things. There's no way as a teenager that I knew anything about metafiction or Dadaism or Jungian symbolism, but I understood “Animal Man” and “Arkham Asylum” and “Doom Patrol” at least on some level, and I appreciated them then. As I learned more and received my degree and studied literature, I began to appreciate those things on a deeper level.

It's funny because I was just listening to some comic book podcasts – I'd never listened to any and wanted to see what I might expect when I was going to be interviewed for this book-- and I listened to an interview on Comic Geek Speak with Matt Fraction. It was about how “Casanova” has all this subtext going on but it's also just a really cool spy story, but one of the Comic Geek Speak guys was just talking about how he couldn't read “Casanova;” that he just didn't understand it. He gave it four issues and it was just over his head. And there was this whole debate about whether or not comics have a deeper meaning; whether something like “Casanova” has a deeper meaning, and this guy who hosted the Comic Geek Speak show really believes that there is no deeper meaning. He just says “no.”

CBR: “No” to “Casanova” in particular?

Me: To any comic books. His defense was, “Well, whenever you guys play up the deeper meaning of anything, I just don't think that stuff's there. I think you're reading too much into it.” That's a criticism I hear a lot. “You're reading too much into it. Those meanings aren't there.” As a teacher, I face that with students studying literature as well. First of all, I don't understand that philosophy. But my counter argument is, it is there, because I've just shown you it being there. And then their retort is always, “That's not what the author intended.” I don't' care what the author intended, that's what the effect of the writing is. It doesn't matter if the author intended it if that's what's there.

CBR: It's there whether the author meant it to be or not.

Me: Exactly. In Grant's case, a lot of it is intended. And the same thing with Matt Fraction; a lot of his allusions and fancy comic book geek stuff he's doing in “Casanova” are intended, but it doesn't matter if it's intended or not. A good example is in my book, when I analyze “Doom Patrol” and I talk about how the three main characters are like “Wizard of Oz” characters. Dorothy Spinner comes into the Doom Patrol. Robotman is totally the Tin Man. You have Rebis, who is a hollow character who's totally the Scarecrow. Then you have Crazy Jane, who's afraid of contact with humanity, which is why she created her multiple personalities, and she's the Cowardly Lion. Grant gives you those character archetypes pretty clearly and when I brought that up to Grant he said, “I never thought about that, but it's totally there.” So he agrees that the meaning is there, but he didn't intend it, yet it doesn't make the meaning any less significant.

So, I just don't understand this thing of things being too complicated or not having any deeper meaning. You just have to be willing to do a little bit of work as a reader. It should have meaning. Going back to T.S. Elliot and the whole “Waste Land” thing, T.S. Eliot's belief in poetry was that life is challenging and unpredictable and chaotic and ambiguous, and if poetry is some kind of reflection of life, poetry should be challenging and chaotic and ambiguous, too. I don't think we should necessarily expect anything less from comic books. If we read a comic book and it means something to us, I think it does have meaning, whether or not it's the exactly the meaning that somebody else gets out of it. That's my take on this whole thing.

READ THE ENTIRE THIRD PART OF THE INTERVIEW HERE: Me making fun of people who can't understand comic books and offending everyone who disagrees with me.

I go on to insult John Byrne (a little) and Paul Kupperberg (a lot, but with some sugarcoating). Maybe I should post a link to my piece on the Byrne message board and watch the fur fly.

My Arkham Asylum Analysis Grants Me Fame

It's up for everyone to see folks, the second part of my interview over at Comic Book Resources. This time, it's all about Arkham Asylum and how to read it properly. Interviewer (and man of great taste) Andy Khouri even provides a brief excerpt from my Arkham chapter and it sounds like smart stuff to me. I'm glad I wrote it.

Read part two of my exclusive interview here: Me Answering Questions about Morrison's Batman.

Did I mention I'm Setting the Internet on Fire with all of this publicity. 'Cause I totally am!

From Levitz to Crisis: A Question or Two

I have a lot of smart readers, so I'm going to throw out a comics-related question that I truly don't know the answer to. If you know the answer, or know where to find it, please let me know!

Here's the set-up and then the question. In the final issue of "The Great Darkness Saga," originally published in The Legion of Super-Heroes #294 (December 1982), Paul Levitz includes over 50 (I count 51, but I'm sure I'm missing a few) different characters from the DC Universe (not including all of the unnamed characters in the issue, like the Daxamite army and the floating dead bodies around the galaxy). A few years later (1985) Crisis on Infinite Earths #1 surely had more characters than that. So my question is Was Levitz the previous record holder for most characters in a single issue?

Did any comic book have more than 51 significant characters in any issue before December 1982? If so, what issue of what comic? How many characters appeared?

I want to know these things.

Iron Fist: Cooler than All of Us Combined?

Iron Fist was one of my first favorite Marvel superheroes. If you listened to any of my podcast interview over at Collected Comics Library, you would have heard how I first fell deeply in love with comics. It was through the Marvel Super-Heroes role-playing game (MSH rpg) published by TSR in the mid 1980s. I had read plenty of comics before that time, and I'm sure I bought comics once and a while at the local general store, but I wasn't a regular reader until I picked up that first edition of the MSH rpg and drowned in the complext mythology of the Marvel universe. I wasn't a particularly huge gamer, by the way, although I was first introduced to Dungeons and Dragons during 4th grade by my friend Chad Nunnery, who had just moved into town that year. He was from the "big city," (population: 50,000) and when he came to our small town (population: 3,000), he brought a lot of big-time urban ideas with him--ideas like asking girls to roller skate and playing role-playing games in school. So we played D&D off and on for a few years, and I picked up all the Monster Manuals and Player's Guides and all that stuff while I was still in elementary school. I always liked reading the books more than actually playing the game, to be honest. I once read an interview with author China Mieville (of Perdido Street Station fame) and he said the same thing. He loved reading the sourcebooks about the campaign settings, where entire imaginary worlds were described and mapped out, and he loved reading about the crazy monsters that populated such worlds. If you read his fiction, you can see how he turned that fascination into his own brand of art.

My fascination was much the same. I loved the sourcebooks and guides and everything about these fantastic worlds of the imagination. So when I got that first boxed set of the MSH rpg, I dove in, absorbing as much of the Marvel universe as I could from the character background information and the Jeff Butler illustrations. Luckily for me, around that same time, both Marvel and DC were publishing their wonderful Marvel Universe and Who's Who comics. (And, of course, the DC rpg came out from Mayfair within that same period as well). I was surrounded by products that could give me a sense of the depth and scope of these comic book universes, and I bought them all. I also discovered, from a middle school friend, that we actually had a comic book store (a store that sold BACK ISSUES!!!) in the next town over, and at that point, my brain exploded and reformed into what it is today. Thus, my comic book obsession began.

My brother (now a super-star Hollywood producer and director by the way--although he is doing a poor job at setting the internet on fire), who is five years younger than me, also became heavily into comics as he joined me on the weekly visits to the store. With our limited funds, we split our purchases. He bought the Marvel stuff, and I picked up the DC stuff (and the strange stuff from newer companies with magical names like Pacific Comics, Eclipse, and Comico). I read everything! And I continued to pick up every single MSH and DC Heroes role-playing game supplement, module, handbook, sourcebook or whatever I could find in those pre-internet days of retail shopping. One of my favorites, and my brother's too, I'm sure was one of the very first things we bough for the Marvel game. It was called Lone Wolves (and I'm relying on Wikipedia here for the name, because I don't have the supplement anymore--it was thrown out or given away when we moved in the late 80's--but I remember its contents fondly) and it featured Daredevil, Black Widow, Power Man, and Iron Fist. Sabretooth was the main villain (or at least the only one I cared about), and it was designed as an adventure module, where the players would take the roles of the heroes and the gamemaster would play the villains. We never played it. But I must have read the book four or five times to learn all about these amazing characters. I had read a couple issues of Power Man and Iron Fist by then, surely, but this role-playing module turned me into a fan. My brother and I bought every issue (that we could find) from then on. We even picked up a Daredevil back issue with Power Man and Iron Fist as guest stars. We didn't know it at the time, but it was a Frank Miller issue, and it remains, to this day, the only original issue of his first Daredevil run that I own (although I own literally three different versions of his run in reprint form, most recently picking up the gorgeous Daredevil Omnibus--wahoo!). The Callahan household certainly enjoyed its 80's comic book superhero bastardizations of 70's exploitation films, and we didn't even know why. It was just cool stuff. I'll have to ask my brother why he liked those issues so much, but for me, the appeal was all about Iron Fist. Power Man I could do without, but I loved the guy with the high collar, yellow slippers, dragon tattoo, and FIST OF IRON!

Yet, I fell out of love with Iron Fist by the end of the Power Man and Iron Fist series. I had grown older and moved on to things like Watchmen and Miracleman, Grendel and Grimjack. Maybe it was the red costume Iron Fist began wearing. Maybe it was the fact that the issues weren't actually, you know, any good (I'll re-read them and let you know someday), but whatever it was, my interest in Iron Fist waned as I moved on to more "sophisticated," "adult," "comics." Whatever it was, I didn't read anything related to Iron Fist for almost twenty years. I missed all of the 90's incarnations of the character, and based on his Wikipedia entry, I missed a lot, but it all sounds really really bad--plus, he was supposedly dead at the end of the Power Man and Iron Fist series, but that didn't stop Marvel, as this Wiki paragraph reveals: "Although Rand apparently returns from the dead, it is revealed instead to be the Super-Skrull. He admits that he had been Captain Hero, and that the plot to destroy the lives of Rand and Cage had been masterminded by Master Khan. It is also revealed that the 'Iron Fist' that had died was actually a doppelgänger created by the extra-dimensional H'ylthri. Rand had, in fact, been kidnapped and replaced by the H'ylthri copy just after he left K'un L'un for the last time. While in stasis with the H'ylthri, Rand manages to focus his chi, curing the cancer."

Who did what to who now? Huh? The whole, turned-out-to-be-a-Skrull-angle, as hip as it is in 2007 is something I'm glad I didn't waste my time on.

But then the Brubaker/Fraction/Aja series, The Immortal Iron Fist premiered this year. And it's awesome. It has everything I need from my Iron Fist, including kicking, FISTS OF IRON, opium, ninja guys, a pulp-inspired Doc Savage precurser who is a grandfather figure (but more badass), and amazing artwork. The series doesn't rely on any knowledge of the 90's version of the character at all. If it uses any of that continuity at all, I completely missed it and I don't care, because what the series does is embrace the mythology of the character and the kung-fu exploitation elements of the original Iron Fist comics. Plus, did I mention that it's awesome?

I loved it from the beginning, but I appreciated the newest issue of The Immortal Iron Fist #6, even more because while I was away on vacation, I not only relaxed and ate a TON of food, but I brought some reading material, including...

The Essential freakin' Iron Fist! I thought I knew Iron Fist pretty well. I understood the basic concept of the character. I appreciated his FIST OF IRON, but even though I read many of the stories in this volume when I was around 12 or 13, I read them completely out of context. I read them out of order back then, because we picked up random back issues when we could find them (I remember my brother getting really excited to learn that we actually picked up the FIRST appearance of Sabretooth when we found an old copy of Iron Fist #14). But I also read those issues out of context in another way: I didn't know ANYTHING about exploitation cinema when I was 12 or 13. I never saw my first real kung fu movie until I was an adult, actually. (Sure, I saw a lot of crappy Jean Claude kicking movies as a teenager, but none of the classic Hong Kong stuff at all--I didn't even see a Bruce Lee movie until college, how sad is that?) So now, going back and reading those first thirty or so Iron Fist stories (starting with the Marvel Premiere issues and ending with issue #50 of Power Man and Iron Fist--the issue where it stopped being a solo Luke Cage title) I can not only enjoy the development of the Danny Rand character, but I can see how blatantly the writers (Roy Thomas, Len Wein, Doug Moench, Tony Isabella, and Chris Claremont--5 different writers in just the fist dozen issues, although Claremont stuck around for years after that) used the conventions of the kung fu and blaxploitation films of the time. Actually, knowing comics, I'm sure Marvel was years BEHIND the curve, but it all blends together in retrospect. But, even though these early Iron Fist stories are just a ham-handed attempt to slap a kung fu character into the Marvel universe, the stories are, you guessed it: AWESOME. First of all, his initial appearance is drawn by none other than Gil Kane, which is worth about 100 cool points right away. And the first story is good. Wendell Rand falling to his death while his business parter hits on Mrs. Rand? And young Danny watches the whole thing as he's freezing to death in the mountains? Then the whole secret kung fu society thing? Brilliant. And in the next few issues when Iron Fist makes his way through New York, seeking revenge, we are treated to anything but a normal superhero. He doesn't even take off his mask to reveal his true face for months, and he does nothing remotely superheroic for quite a while. When he finally does something other than ruthlessly seek revenge, another character basically stops the story and points out that he's become a "super-hero" just to drive the point home. But it takes a while for that development to happen. There are a lot of kicking scenes and mystical ninjas and Colleen Wing action sequences and the introductions of blaxploitation superstar Misty Knight and kung fu legend (?) Triple-Iron to get through first. One of the cool things about these early issues is that each successive villain is a newly created character (rarely, if ever, to be seen again in the Marvel universe), and each villain is a master of some martial arts weapon or style. Once Batroc the Leaper shows up, Iron Fist begins to fight more traditional villains, but who doesn't want to see Iron Fist vs. Batroc? That's a lot of kicking per page!

So now that I've read The Essential Iron Fist I can enjoy the new monthly series all the more. Because Brubaker and Fraction and Aja (and guests) appreciate the core concept of Iron Fist and they have already added to the character's mythology without resorting shape-changing aliens. Iron Fist is about a kung fu exploitation character in the Marvel Universe, and he shouldn't be hanging around with Skrulls. These guys all know that, and that is why the answer to the question at the top of this post can only be one word:

YES.

Raging Bullets: S. T. I. O. F.

Raging Bullets a DC Comics-centered podcast has a special interview this week with guess who? ME! I know, you probably can't believe it, but here's another example of me Setting The Internet On Fire! Anyway, this particular podcast is over three hours long, but my interview only takes up about 45 minutes total. They spend the rest of the time mostly talking about the Sinestro Corps book, which I haven't even read yet, since I'm just recovering from vacation and trying to catch up on two weeks worth of comic book goodness.

In my Raging Bullets interview I talk about stuff like the not-so-secret origin of the Grant Morrison book, my perspective on realism vs. heroic romanticism, and what kind of superhero I would be (or something like that--I forget the exact question that led down that path). Basically, it's another must-listen interview, and I'm sure the rest of the podcast is great too, although obviously, I'm behind on my podcast listening as well (and really, I've never really listened to any podcasts other than Collected Comics Library once in a while--but now that I'm being interviewed all over time and space, I've begun to turn into a podcastfanatic [when I have time, which is not often, honestly]).

I turn up about 12 minutes into the podcast, in case you're in a hurry, and the direct link is right here: Raging Bullets Podcast Featuring a 45-minute interview with ME!

Coming Home and SETTING THE INTERNET ON FIRE

I just got back from my vacation (and a return to posting earlier than expected) to find an e-mail from Comic Book Resources' very own Andy Khouri telling me that my interview with him will be a multi-part feature (!) on their site and the first part has gone live TODAY!

Check it out here: Comic Book Resources Interview Part One: The Transcript

I'm famouser and famouser every day.

Vacation Time!

This will be my last post until July 7th, 'cause I'm going on vacation! Since you'll probably be totally bored over the next week and a half, waiting for me to return, here's what you should do each day to keep busy:

Tuesday, June 26th: Watch Season Three of Deadwood.

Wednesday, June 27th: Read a bunch of new comics. Sinestro Corps comes out! Buy it and tell me if it's as cool as it should be.

Thursday, June 28th: Read a Cormac McCarthy novel of your choice.

Friday, June 29th: Read something drawn by a great European artist. Maybe a Blueberry graphic novel, or something by Hugo Pratt.

Saturday, June 30th: Watch The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

Sunday, July 1st: Draw an eight-page minicomic about Yeti assassins.

Monday, July 2nd: Read something by Jack Kirby, like the Fourth World Omnibus or Kamandi Archives Volumes 1 and 2.

Tuesday, July 3rd: Watch The Venture Brothers, probably the second season, I would say.

Wednesday, July 4th: Celebrate Independence Day by playing frisbee and reading my Grant Morrison book!

Thursday, July 5th: After reading my book, you'll be pumped for Morrison goodness, so go back and read Animal Man and Doom Patrol.

Friday, July 6th: To prepare for my return, you should take the day off. Relax, read something light and fun, like My Dead Girlfriend, by Eric Wight.

Saturday, July 7th: I'll be back to brighten your day!

Have fun everyone!

PULPHOPE: The Art of Paul Pope--A Review

Yesterday, just glancing at the book, I referred to PULPHOPE as an "autobiography in art, except incomplete, and with lots of pretty pictures." That's not a bad starting point when you think about this particular art book. My initial assessment was pretty accurate, it turns out. First of all, this is unlike any other art book I've seen. I own a lot of "sketchbooks" showing the work of various comic book artists--most of which feature a lot of raw pin-ups, some finished pieces, promotional stuff, and occasionally a finished story or something sequential. I also own a lot of fine art books, which usually feature representative images from throughout an artists career with varying amounts of text explanation. PULPHOPE features a little bit of all of that (both as a comic book artist's "sketchbook" and a fine arts overview of his career), but what makes this book so different is the amount of personal detail Pope includes in the text pieces. It's not just a bunch of paragraphs explaining, "oh, I drew this for this company, but it was never published." It's pages upon pages (interspersed with gorgeous art) in which Pope defines his boundaries as an artist. It's part manifesto, part philiosophy of art, part autobiography. Taken as a whole, this book clearly defines what Paul Pope believes, what he does, and who he is.

Although he has a tendency to add extra letters to the names of writers (he spells Hemingway with an extra "m" and James Fenimore Cooper with an extra "n" in the middle), Pope is a good writer. He has things to say, and he has thought deeply about what he believes as an artist, so I was more that happy to read his fascinating text pieces. The book begins with an invocation to past artists and visionaries. Pope says, "These poets and philosophers are the whispering dead I hear, pointing the way to the road which leads out of this inferno. These are the dead on the roof with me, these are my Virgils. They point their parchment fingers toward the arc of the heavens, helping make sense of a meaningless rising moon and a mute and dumb setting sun." To Pope, art makes sense of life, and that's all it has ever tried to do.

Pope provides insight into his methods, but more in terms of a methodology than a "how-to" manual. He says, for example, "I'd pencil, letter, ink, and finish 16 pages at a time, using tape to hold up two rows of eight pages of comics side by side...Working within an assembly line such as this is the most effective method for producing comics I know of, and I credit it with how I could manage to finish seventy or eighty completely print ready pages a month, which was necessary sometime while working for Kodansha [the Manga publisher]." Pope's art seems anything but "assembly line." It reads as vibrant and alive, so his mechanical method of churning out multiple pages at once seems antithetical to the result. But, perhaps that type of speed encourages spontanteity and energy--it certainly appears that way in Pope's case, and Jack Kirby's best work was often produced under the same conditions (although Kirby famously just drew from one panel to the next until everything was completed. I wonder what he would have thought about Pope's 16-pages-at-once approach?)

Pope doesn't speak specifically about the work as much as I would have liked--he's more interested in moments from his life, and bold statements about the nature of art and reality, but what he does say is interesting and engaging. It's unusual (for me at least) to "read" an art book voraciously, in one sitting, but that's what I did with PULPHOPE. Ultimately, this substantial book gave me a greater appreciation for Pope's work (which I held in considerable esteem already), and it inspired me to create art of my own.

I highly recommend this book. You won't be disappointed.

MoCCA Art Festival 2007: A Report

I didn't take any pictures, because unlike a normal comic-con, the MoCCA fest is a nice little small press show and it just feels too intimate to snap photos of everyone. That's my excuse anyway.

But here's what I bought at the show:

Atlas #1, by Dylan Horrocks. I'm not as enamored of Hicksville as everyone else seems to be, but I really enjoyed the first two issues of Atlas. It's like a year or two between issues at this point, so I don't even remember what's going on, but I was happy to pick this up today. I'm hopeful.

Pulp Hope: The Art of Paul Pope. This was the first purchase I made today, and I guess I could have waited in line to get Paul to sign it, I just can't bring myself to do such a thing. Pretty cool-looking book! Lots of text too, written by Paul. It's like his autobiography in art, except incomplete, and with lots of pretty pictures. I'm reading this tonight!

Superior Showcase #1 and 2. I'm a ginormous fan of Project Superior and how can you not like the line-up in these two issues? Bertozzi, Trippe, Dalrymple, to name just three (--the best three, but still...) My local store doesn't carry stuff like this at all, although James, if you're reading this, carry this stuff! I will buy it!

Tales Designed to Thrizzle #3, by Micahel Kupperman. Not only did I buy this, but it's always fun when Gary Groth is the one making change for you. If you haven't read this comic book series yet, you must read it right away. Not every page is a winner, but 98% of them will make milk spew from your nose (even if you haven't had milk to drink in years, which is weird).

Stuff from Dave Roman and Raina Telgemeier. Lots of stuff. I own most of their work already, but I picked up Life Meter #2 (the anthology of comics inspired by video games), Astronaut Elementary 8-9-10, Teen Boat #7 (obviously!), and Agnes Quill: an anthology of mystery. I'm looking forward to all of these books. Keep up the good work, guys! And Raina, keep that Dave in line. Don't let him get all cocky just because I said he was awesome the other day. Don't forget the reason for awesomeness #1!

The show was a good time overall. We didn't stay as long as we might have if we were less grumpy and less tired (from staying up late last night putting together minicomics...more on that when I get scans of the artwork), but we got to chat with some cool people. I met Karen Berger, Vertigo founder--who is eagerly looking forward to reading my Grant Morrison book. Well, that's how I interpreted it. Her actual words were, "I haven't read it yet. But I will." The eagerness was implied. And I talked to Tim Leong about doing some stuff for Comic Foundry. I chatted with Cameron Stewart for a while, embarassing him with my recollection of his fan letters to Grant Morrison--something I discovered when I was researching my book. But as I told Cam, I am also a Morrison fanboy from way back, and a letter in Animal Man #5 will attest to that (plus, I wrote a freakin' book on the guy. Nerdtastic!)

We also hung out with RAB from Estoreal for much of the day. He took us to a great burger place for lunch and he and I chatted about all things Jeff Parker-y, Legion-esque, and Kirby-tastic. He's not only contributing to my Legion book, but he also came up with some thoughts for a future Sequart project, so that was cool.

I'm going to go read all the great stuff I bought. Discuss.

Secret Project...

I've been up all night working on a secret, Ninja Wolf-related comics project. More details to follow after MoCCA!

Indy Spotlight: Bryan Lee O'Malley

We all know Bryan Lee O'Malley is a gigantic superstar these days and his Scott Pilgrim is going to be the greatest movie of 2009 or whenever, but he's still an indy guy. And he's going to be at MoCCA this weekend, even though he should be home drawing Scott Pilgrim Gets it Together! But O'Malley is great, and I love everything he's done from the moving Lost at Sea to the kickass little piece from Project: Superior. And, as we all know, Scott Pilgrim is wondrous and beautiful and full of all kinds of badassery. It's so good that I think I referenced it as my favorite contemporary comic when I hung out with Howard Cruse last summer. Wonder if Howard ever picked up a copy. I doubt it, though. What do you say Howard?

Here's my Bryan Lee O'Malley story: It takes place a year before any of the Scott Pilgrim books debuted. It was the year my brother and I created Ninja Wolf as a joke that became kinda serious but still funny (and trust me, WAAAAY MORE info on Ninja Wolf is coming very soon!!! Keep your eyes peeled!). Anyway, I was running around at the end of the last day of the San Diego Comic-Con, trying to get as many free sketches of Ninja Wolf as I could. I ended up with only a few, but one of the guys willing to do a sketch was Corey Lewis, he of Sharknife fame. Of course, he hadn't published Sharknife yet, and I had no idea who he was, but he was totally into Ninja Wolf when I told him the concept. "Can you draw this character we made up?" I asked. "It's kind of a joke thing....Anyway, his name is Ninja Wolf--He was an orphan raised by ninjas, then subsequently raised by wolves." "That doesn't sound like a joke," said The Rey aka Corey Lewis. "That sounds like the greatest idea ever!" Bryan Lee O'Malley, seated next to The Rey, said, "that sounds just like one of your ideas." "I know," said The Rey, "I will totally draw you a sketch of Ninja Wolf. And if you do a comic, I will draw the cover for you! It's awesome." So as The Rey was creating his masterpiece of Ninja Wolf sketchery, I said, "hey Bryan, you know you want to draw Ninja Wolf too." "I can't," he said, "I gotta copy this album cover for some guy."

And thus, many years ago, Bryan Lee O'Malley was denied the chance to draw Ninja Wolf and the world has become a sadder place.

But, The Rey's work still adorns my classroom wall, and O'Malley has gone on to produce works of staggeringly important graphic genius.

So, in the end, it all worked out. Except it's not the end of the story. Ninja Wolf is....(yet, I must hold my tongue. Further updates will follow this summer!)

Indy Spotlight: Jeff Lemire

One year and three days ago, I recommended Jeff Lemire's last book, Lost Dogs. It surprised me with its quality. This year, I'm recommending Lemire's follow-up: Tales from the Farm. It's a better, more mature work, with cleaner (though still expressionistic) linework, and a more deeply resonant story.

What Lemire does best, in both of his graphic novels, is develop simple but powerful relationships. Both works have focused primarily on the connection between an older man and a youngster. Both works have explored rural, working-class settings. Both works have displayed a quiet power, both within the characters and within the storytelling itself.

F. Scott Fitzgerald once stated something to the effect that anyone under thirty looks to the future and anyone over thirty looks to the past. In Lemire's comic book worlds, that maxim seems true, with an underlying sense of imagination and fantasy. His characters don't just think about the future or the past, they romanticize it to an almost dangerous degree, but their fantasies protect them from realities that may be too difficult to face, similar to the way Gatsby adopted a new persona to recapture the illusion of the past. Like Fitzgerald's, Lemire's characters need their imaginations to survive, especially in Tales from the Farm. And because they do not confront traditional reality as we know it, they are misunderstood and find companionship and strength only in each other.

Unlike Fitzgerald, Lemire is not cynical about any of this. His characters are not destroted by the harsh reality which they attempt to avoid. Instead, the fantasy world bleeds into their provincial lives, and the ending swerves in an unexpected direction. I'm rarely surprised by a comic book story anymore, but Lemire took Tales from the Farm in a direction I didn't anticipate, and I look forward to seeing what he's going to do next.

Setting the Internet on Fire: Permanent Damage

Here's what comic book scribe and CBR columnist Steven Grant has to say about Grant Morrison: The Early Years: "How is it people keep writing good books about Grant Morrison? Callahan does a great job deconstructing Morrison's initial 2000 AD and DC work like 'Zenith' and DOOM PATROL to uncover his influences and illuminate recurring themes."

A positive endorsement!

Steven Grant, for those of you who don't know, is the guy who launched The Punisher to glory back in the 1980s. If Steven Grant likes my book, it must be good!

Setting the Internet on Fire with CCL!

Here we go: the most recent example of SETTING THE INTERNET ON FIRE. Check out Chris's Collected Comics Library podcast to listen to an hour-long inteview with ME! I talk about my collecting habits, my top ten collected editions ever, and I provide scintillating insight into my new book! If you have never listened to a podcast before, NOW IS THE TIME!

Check out the CCL website HERE. Or go directly to the podcast HERE.

It's awesome.

Indy Spotlight: Dave Roman

You know what? I was going to write an analysis of why Dave Roman is one of my favorite independent creators, but I just spent over an hour doing a telephone interview (yet another example of me SETTING THE INTERNET ON FIRE) with Andy from Comic Book Resources, and I need sleep, man. But in fairness to the great Dave Roman, I will share some of my observations about why his work is so damn awesome.

Reason # 1: He's married to Raina Telgemeier, who is super-awesome. In fact, I bought my VERY FIRST mini-comic from Raina about four years ago at the San Diego Comic-Con. Then, after browsing a few more tables, I bought my SECOND (and third and forth and fifth) mini-comic from Dave Roman (who was not seated near Raina). Little did I know that the two would become husband and wife only a couple of years later. Obviously, they were meant to be together, if my taste in awesomeness is to be trusted (and it is).

Reason #2: Both he and Raina share the same birthday. And guess what? It's my birthday too! Yup, May 26th is the joyous celebration of all of our births. Take that all you suckers born on the other 364 pathetic and non-awesome days of the year!

Reason #3: Dave writes the way Walt Whitman wishes he could have written (if he had been involved in a freak time machine accident which catapulted him into a future HE NEVER KNEW). Peep these lines from Astronaut Elementary #4: "Stupid hat / I should have known better based on my past, which is filled with harsh lessons / Ugh, I'm so tired of pandas! They've been going extinct for like ever! / Not that I'm racist against pandas, but that point was so funny that I can't stop the laughing from pouring out! / Or the milk!"

Reason #4: In the astounding Teen Boat, he is able to balance the angst (of being a teen) with the thrill (of being a boat). Only, instead of the thrill (of being a boat), he writes about longing and heartache. And it's so good. Too short, but still excellent. Everything you could possibly hope for in an ongoing mini-comic series that has a LONG OVERDUE ISSUE DEBUTING AT MoCCA! Yes, I will buy it, and so must you. (Seriously, it's like 50 cents, you cheap bastards! Buy it!)

Reason #5: How is he not more famous? Is this a reason why his work is awesome? Not really, but I don't get why Dave Roman is not writing Spider-Man loves Mary Jane right now. I would totally buy it AND possibly shoplift extra copies to give to the homeless orphans. Think about it, Marvel.

If you don't know why Dave Roman is awesome by now, then buy his comics. Visit his website. Follow him home. Peruse his record collection. Ask him to dance.

Richard Oldstate's 24 Legionnaires!

Noted wrestling scholar and facial hair model Richard Oldstate has written a piece for my upcoming Legion book. He's too important a public figure to ignore, so rather than wait a year to show you his work, I figured I'd better post his contribution now, before he tries to regain control of this essay via complicated legal procedures and albino spider monkey attacks.

24 LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES CHARACTERS I THOUGHT OF WHILE SITTING IN MY HOTEL ROOM IN TOKYO, JAPAN.
(JUNE THE 4TH, 2007)
By Richard Oldstate

1.Awkward Silence Lad

2.Chicken-Like Boy Jim

3.Slightly Smaller Than Average Lass

4.Childhood Obesity Boy

5.Elliot, The Boy Who Can Travel Through Time, But Only Slightly, Like A Few Minutes Or So

6.Matter Regurgitation Lad

7.Static Electricity Lass

8.Big Baby Jesus

9.Slightly Larger Than Average Lass

10.Mutton Eater Lad

11.Excitable Boy

12.Conventional Wisdom Boy

13.Incredible Androgynous LadLass

14.Super Brazilian Jujitsu Master Lass

15.Superb Boy

16.Personal Injury Attorney Lad

17.Man Hands Lass

18.Gill, The Singing Cowboy, Who Sings Happy Songs For The Nice People

19.The Samoan Submission Android

20.Braniac Googolplex

21.Dr. Sympaathy

22.Admiral Tonkin Incident

23.Mitch Buchanan Boy

24.Ted Williams 4

Indy Spotlight: James Kochalka

How can you not love James Kochalka? Here's a guy who has been doing his own thing, in his own inimitable style, for years. Whether it's reading his sketchbook diaries in American Elf, rockin' out to "Hockey Monkey," or soaking in his gloriously warped take on The Legion of Super-Heroes in the hilarious Super F*ckers, you will certainly find something to enjoy in Kochalka's work.

My first exposure to Kochalka came in the pre-internet (at least for me) days, when he launched the famous anti-craft manifesto at The Comics Journal. His basic point was, and I'm paraphrasing from a distant memory here, "just draw and stop worrying so much about it." Now, of course, Kochalka teaches at the Center for Cartoon Studies, and from what I gather, he sets up a variety of assignments which result in students learning that they should just draw, without worrying so much about it. It's a good philosophy, but it wouldn't necessarily result in good comics all by itself. Luckily, Kochalka's cute-and-twisted look at the world more than makes up for a lack of craft (and as anyone with eyes can see, Kochalka's a pretty great artist anyway--he just doesn't worry about making his art look like other comic book art).

After reading about Kochalka for years, I finally tracked down some of his comics, starting with the Monkey vs. Robot graphic novel. I couldn't resist buying the accompanying album as well, and I spent the following week sharing the Kochalka joy with everyone I encountered. My wife just didn't seem to see the greatness of "Bad Astronaut," but that didn't stop me from playing that song over and over in the car. Later that year, I loaned my copy of the graphic novel and the album to one of my students who seemed to have good taste. She liked the Kochalka stuff, she said, after handing it back, but she didn't love it. She also spilled orange juice all over the pages of Monkey Vs. Robot, but such is the price I had to pay to spread the Kochalka, even to an ungrateful audience.

James Kochalka's masterpiece, though, is the second volume of American Elf. In this full-color collection of sketchbook diaries, Kochalka poetically captures the minor details of life in a style that is both sparse and beautiful. The first volume is excellent as well, but in the second volume, Kochalka has matured as an artist, an observer of life, and as a father. It's in his relationship with his wife and son that we see the new Kochalka, a little less preoccupied with himself and a little more fascinated by the world around him. It's a transition that any parent can understand. Unlike a television sitcom, in which the addition of a cute child is a sign that the show is doomed, American Elf: Volume 2 shows that, in real life--at least four panel slices of it--every new experience is a chance for wonder, amazement, sadness, beauty, and joy.

Get your Kochalka on!

Indy Spotlight: Matt Fraction

In preparation for the MoCCA art festival next weekend in glorious NYC, I'm going to focus on one of my favorite independent creators each day this week. First up is a creator who is both a new obsession of mine and someone who I've known (about) and admired for years: MATT FRACTION!

Sure he's a big time mainstream guy now, with his fancy Punisher, and half of Iron Fist, and the upcoming recently-retitled Champions comic (now called The Order? Is that right? It's not a great title change). I'll review his Image book, Five Fists of Science in a minute (because I already wrote about Casanova yesterday), but the Matt Fraction I still think of is the guy who kicked off Savant, the internet magazine for comics activists. If you missed those early issues of Savant, you missed a pissed off Matt Fraction. A Matt Fraction who wanted to let the world know that comics mattered, damn it, and people had better start paying attention.

As he says in the opening essay, written nearly a decade ago: "I think there are more great comics being made now than ever before. I think there are more comics that could appeal to the mainstream world, more genres with vital and important work being made right now than there ever has been before. I certainly buy more than I ever have before. And what's sad is that if you would stack them in a pile, I would still have pairs of boots that go up higher." Here's a guy, writing years and years ago (has it been about 10 years since Savant first launched?), about his unrestrained love for the medium, and his disappointment as well, and then he goes on to tell us what we need to do about it: "Graft pop sensibilities onto Comics: cult of celebrity, collectability, sexiness and hipness," Fraction says, "Think of Punk Rock. Make work that kids will read and think This is the most important thing I've ever read. Or write about it, reciprocating the passion and importance you feel."

"Zealotry, Idolatry: Now's the goddamned time to make things change," he says, "This is what we've been thinking about while preparing to launch SAVANT. For the sweet love of fancy fuck, just be cool. Anger is proactive. Find something broken and fix it; there's plenty to go around. Let's get to work. Stop talking. Keep moving."

This is the Matt Fraction I remember. He helped produce Savant for the first couple of years, and I drifted away from reading the site around the same time he stopped writing for it. I didn't leave just because Fraction stopped contributing, but I'm sure there was a correlation there. He was the best writer they had--the most enthusiastic spokesman for comics, the most joyously angry, and perhaps the funniest.

Now he's on the other side of the page, producing major work for Image and Marvel. So how can I say he deserves an Indy Spotlight? Because he's still Matt-freakin'-Fraction, the Savant guy. He's an outsider working on the inside all of a sudden (does it feel like it's all of a sudden to you, Matt, or just to those of us still on the receiving end of the work?). And even though he is a Marvel writer, his most important work thus far has come from Image, where he has not only produced the brilliant Casanova, which embodies the "just be cool" aesthetic the younger, angrier Matt Fraction vocalized years and years ago, but he's also written Five Fists of Science, an ambitious work that perhaps tries to do too much in too few pages, but isn't that better than doing too little in too many?

Five Fists of Science, for those of you who haven't read it, is a steampunk thriller which features the unlikely team-up between Nikola Tesla and Mark Twain (among others). On the brink of a new century, these two geniuses, with the help of a few other historical figures, concoct a scheme to promote peace across the world via a robotic arms race. Their plan is, unsurprisingly, not embraced by world leaders, which causes Twain and Tesla to resort to demonstrations of just how much the world needs these giant robots. Thomas Edison, J. P. Morgan, and other men of stature provide an opposition force to the Tesla/Twain team, as Fraction throws in Lovecraftian monsters (and a Yeti!) to provide visual symbols (and good targets for punching) of the corruption and violence inherent in these men. It's a story of true genius versus stolen credit, and it's as much fun as it sounds. The only flaw is Steven Sanders's artwork, which is at once too murky and too stiff. The designs are nice, but the story deserves clean, vigorous art to accompany Fraction's vibrant script. After reading Casanova, I can't help thinking how much better the story would be if someone with a clean line like Gabriel Ba had provided the pictures.

But, If you like giant robots, 19th century science, evil cabals, wit, and the Yeti, you can hardly go wrong with Five Fists of Science. It's Matt Fraction, and he's still a comics activist. Only now he's producing the Punk Rock comics himself. I'll keep looking for that Indy Matt Fraction no matter who's signing his paychecks.