Finally, my writing is where it belongs-- beneath the words "Ass Crap" in letters glowing white hot, Ass Crap big as day, a warning, a promise, a taunt, a seduction. Hot damn-- here we go again!
Hello-- for the next two or three weeks, I'm going to be writing primarily about New Avengers #32 (Marvel Comics), Supergirl & the Legion of Superheros #31 (DC Comics), and Cold Heat #1 (PictureBox, Inc.). I haven't done this in a while so let me start slow and spend a little while on those three books, before we risk branching out. Indulge me. Hand-feed me grapes. Let me suckle from your teat. Be around until I want you to go away, but come back right away if i text you. Put me in diapers just like Senator Diaperman.
We'll talk about Cold Heat more in the coming weeks, I think, than this one. Cold Heat stands at the opposite end of the spectrum from the other two books, in nearly all respects: it is less commercial in execution, intention, style, though maybe not substance. It's a comic my benefactor and patron, the good Mr. Hibbs, once called "one of the worst, least professional, and most overpriced comics I've ever seen," published by what fellow ... Savage(?) Douglas Wolk called an imprint "at the intersection of the fine arts, comics and music worlds"-- in an article that announced nothing less than the cancellation of Cold Heat following the release of Cold Heat #4! Awww, fuck, I've done my homework, son! Tell your kids you were alive to see this!
But NA and ... er, SLOSH(?): twinning those books is kind of an obvious starting point, yes? They're both revamps and re-imaginings of long-running comic series by two big companies; both idiot-children of company-wide events and gimmicks and gotchas, of this place, this time, this horrible-fuck-bummer of a decade. But, but: after 30+ issues each, NA is a big hit book, a Top 10 book, while SLOSH hovers alone near the bottom half of the Top 100.
Both are artifacts of the industry of their creation: both are instantiations of long-term editorial strategies; written, re-written, considered, reconsidered; drawn panel by panel, page by page, at risk of repetitive stress disorder, loss of sleep, over long hours, late hours; inked, embellished by craftsman until pages are ready to be colored and lettered by dedicated crews, all while editors review the results, checking, rechecking. Finally, months of labor culminate in these comics's ultimate destinies: a one-paragraph online review written in ten seconds what concludes with "Fart" or "Jism" or "Bunghole" in italics.
Both comics primarily engage in refluxing up old, well-worn properties. Which… let’s stop and consider that: what the hell is going on in this country? Every movie's a sequel to a remake of a tv show that was originally a BBC show. What is that? Are we living in a culture out of lies to tell itself, rushing into the past to keep from thinking there’s no future, to keep from wondering if it's run out of time? Are we just picking through the ashes of a cultural heat-death, here? Or when you look out over the world, does any institution, establishment, authority-- does it all just seem to have been fucking cratered to you at some point? Do you ever stop and think "Oh, hey, maybe Issue #32 of the New Avengers comic book series is just a symptom of a dying empire having one last orgasmic death-spasm?"
Do you people even read the Guardian Unlimited? It’s all going down in flames, brother. It’s coming apart at the seams-- we’re one good flood from mass cannibalism in the streets—I will eat your face! And we’re supposed to be talking about New Avengers #32 in a polite and calm fashion? Don’t buy New Avengers #32—invest in water, rations and guns!
The Legion of Superheros is essentially a post-World-War-2 fantasy: "We may struggle, but our children will live in a shiny utopia future and they will be superheros." Which is fine circa 1950 or 1960, but right now, right this second: Does anyone with any sense in their head really believe any of that anymore? I've seen the children of the future-- they are morbidly obese and they are blowing each other constantly. A legion of Overweight Dumb Sluts will inherit this Earth and when you close your eyes to sleep, they will find you and hunt you as civilization comes crashing down all around in an ecological, sociological, economic and spiritual collapse. Cosmic Boy? Lightning Lad? Cut the bullshit-- somebody secure the water supply before the Children of the Future get bored and try to dose us all with their psychiatric meds!
New Avengers #32 begs a conversation whether the central plotline too closely resembles the plotline of the current Battlestar Galactica TV show, which is a remake of the 70's Battlestar Galactica TV show, which was an attempt to do a TV version of the 1st Star Wars movie, by which I of course mean the 4th Star Wars movie. New Avengers #32 features an ad selling action figures of Dale Keown's PITT. What is there to say to all that but "Repent, repent, for the end is nigh?" And by "nigh," I mean move! Move! Water supply! It’s catnip before the apocalypse!
I don't know: I don't want to be a downer. All these comics have positive qualities which I'm sure we'll touch on. All I'm saying is we're all going to die and soon, and the last thing we’re going to hear is a loud, crashing sound. That's all.
Next Week: We’ll talk about the actual plots of New Avengers #32, SLOSH #31, and Cold Heat #1. Plots—do people like hearing about those in reviews? I sure hope so, otherwise there will be egg on my face next week! SUNNY SIDE DOWN.
Rating: Ass-Crappy Barf-Tits Slapped with a Stinkpalm; Pick of the Week: My Nose.