John Hughes Mega-Mix

By Eclectic Method.

Why I Might Not Read A Comic Book

Over the 4-day weekend, I read about 100 comic books. I don't read comics like normal people do. I read them in giant chunks of at least 20 or more at one sitting. I think part of this is because, due to my work schedule, my free time really isn't parceled out evenly. But also, I'm pretty OCD about reading my comics. If I have a large stack that is unread, I feel this driving need to read them ALL – or, after a period of time, throw them away. You see, I used to accumulate massive (massive) quantities of (mostly free) comics that I never read, which took up a great deal of space in my living quarters. So to avoid this, I made the rule that I have to either read them or chuck them; long-term storage for when "I have the time" is not an option.

I'm also very OCD about reading all the comics in a certain pile, in the exact order I pulled them. If more comics are added to the pile by a well-meaning outside agency (say, my boyfriend), I must then read those comics as well (even though they are not mine and I did not plan on reading them). To clarify, I'm not truly truly OCD about all this, in a clinical sense. I could break these patterns and habits if I really wanted to; I would just die a little bit inside.

Because of these rigid self-imposed rules surrounding my comic book reading habits, a comic book has to be really bad in order for me to throw them off the reading pile. Mediocre and pointless I can deal with. But there are some comics that I find completely unreadable.

Here are some of the factors that go into unreadable comic books for me:

• Boring. Bad comics can be really enjoyable, but boring comics are unforgivable. Some writers can have really "talky" comics that totally work and flow. And some writers lose me in their mass of word balloons. Poorly-handled and plodding exposition can really kill a comic for me. Also, there are some comics based on pre-existing "universes" that really make the assumption (and maybe rightly so) that the reader is familiar with the universe in question; but because it's all "Greek" to me, I just lose interest.
  
• Embarrassing covers. Look, I have no problem buying a comic with out-and-out porn on the cover, as long as that pornographic image is organic to the story and derives some sort of artistic merit by virtue of its hyper-realism or ingenious stylistic qualities. But there was a recent mini-series about a pretty sedate and cerebral female character in which every cover looked like she was having a guttural, open-mouthed orgasm. The vibe those covers produced didn't match the story nor the character. It's like you did a biography on Jane Goodall or Emily Dickinson and had her do an open-mouthed orgasm face on the cover. It's not a matter of prudery; it just doesn't fit. So anyway, that mini-series is still sitting unread in my recycling pile. Because I like the writer, I think I'll just tear all the covers off and give it another shot.
• Small world. Look, if anybody who worked on the particular comic in question either sexually harassed me, tore my cervix open, or perpetrated some other unfortunateness upon my person, I'm probably not going to read the comic. This is because the comic book industry is a relatively small world, and these things happen.

Outside of the aforementioned, I will pretty much read any comic on my pile.

Reflections On Brittany Murphy

Every year they find at least one blond girl to rip to pieces until she dies. She's like the sacrifice to the volcano. It's horrendous.

Brittany Murphy on life immediately after "Clueless":
“So funny, but it was hard to get a job for two years after that, everyone thought I was really Tai.”

CHECKLIST
1. Lose weight.
2. Dye hair.
3. Show them you're not a little girl anymore & can handle the juicy roles.


HOW MANY JUICY ROLES ARE THERE FOR YOUNG STARLETS IN HOLLYWOOD??

Brittany Murphy, PARTIAL FILMOGRAPHY:

Clueless (1995): plays "ugly ducking" who gets makeover.
Freeway (1996): plays heroin addict.
Falling Sky (1998): plays alcoholic who tries to kill herself.
Prophecy II (1998): plays suicide victim.
Girl, Interrupted (1999): plays incest survivor with eating disorder who's into cutting and in a mental hospital; later commits suicide.
Don't Say A Word (2001): plays severely disturbed young woman in mental hospital.
Spun (2002): plays meth addict.
The Dead Girl (2006): plays dead hooker.
Deadline (2010): plays woman who has had nervous breakdown.
Abandoned (2010): plays woman with psychiatric issues.

"In playing such a dark and damaged character, the danger is as an actor you could bring some of that darkness back home with you. Murphy has always been careful not to. 'I don't like to bring unhappy energies with me back home' she tells, 'It doesn't serve my life at all."

What does a starlet do when she nears 30?

CHECKLIST
1. Lose more weight.
2. Show them you're not another aging starlet & can handle the juicy roles.
3. Injections in lips to look younger.
4. Maxim shoot.


"If you don’t have yourself, you have nothing to give."

2002: Saturday Night Live invites Brittany Murphy to host show
2009: Saturday Night Live eviscerates Brittany Murphy
2009: Offending Brittany Murphy SNL clip pulled from Hulu. With death comes clout and respect.


DEAD CELEBRITY ETIQUETTE & PROCEDURE:
1. Twitter trending.
2. Wiki edits.
3. Perez gloat.
4. "I told you so."/"We feel bad about bashing him/her."
5. YouTube tribute vids.
6. Solid two weeks of media reportage.
7. Hagiography.
8. Oscar montage.
9. Set target on next troubled celeb who might kick bucket. Rinse. Repeat.


Brittany Murphy on her role in the movie "The Dead Girl":

"It's not an uncommon story. People choose their own paths in life and had she had had a better grasp on reality then she would have made something wonderful of her life. She just wasn't grounded enough."

"Cher, I don't want to do this anymore."

In the end, there is a young woman dead. Even with an autopsy, even with a narrative pieced together by medical experts, TMZ, and nameless insiders, we can't really claim to know what happened, what she was thinking. She was trying to make a living. Yes, the whole self-worth thing was bound up in that. But she was trying to make a living. And when she lost weight, she got roles. And when she got older, she had to try harder, had to literally stretch the limits of her body in order to compensate. Not because she was deluded, the same fragile young woman with the waif-like eyes that she played over and over again in the movies. But because she was in the industry since she was a child and SHE KNEW HOW IT WORKED.


Shall we ascribe a moral to it: pointing fingers at the media, citing a sexist culture that demands youth and thinness from its women no matter what their age and body type? Is this that inevitable People Magazine story, that cautionary tale? No, that all seems too simple, the equivalent of Lady Gaga's video "Paparazzi," a simultaneous campy condemnation and orgasmic celebration of celebrity culture. The women are dead or maimed in that music video, victims of a cruel celebrity system...but they look FABULOUS!

Brittany Murphy in "Spun"

From Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" video

We could have told a young Brittany Murphy that she didn't need to lose weight or use botox to compete and thrive in her industry; but the highest-grossing actress in the world is Emma Watson in all her skinny, nubile glory. Yes, Hilary Swank gets Oscars...but she is not a movie star, not really. She's not a star.

This is all a syndrome, a never-ending cycle that periodically scoops young women and men up and eats them. We all participate, in our very small, passive way: but we have enough problems. Don't blame us. Don't blame the tabloid editor. Don't blame an -ism.


This just is, that's all, it's all part of the larger meta-narrative. It sucks. And it just is. And when we all pass, there will remain the video clips, the discrete pulses of energy, our witty commentary, our told-you-sos, our anecdotes and Twitpics.

I guess that's where I am at my life, now. I just look at stories like Murphy's from the outside sitting before a pile of media, recognizing my own impotence to predict in any constructive manner, my own impotence in pointing the finger, my own impotence and armchair arrogance in trying to figure the Subject out.

Pow.

Punisher MAX: Butterfly

Written by VALERIE D'ORAZIO
Pencils & Cover by LAURENCE CAMPBELL
A lurid tell-all book leads the Punisher on the trail of a hitwoman marked for death. Who is Butterfly? And will the Punisher be her salvation, her temptation, or her damnation? Author Valerie D'Orazio and artist Laurence Campbell unload a full barrage of mayhem in this blood-soaked one-shot.
40 PGS./Explicit Content ...$4.99

From Newsarama's Marvel March 2010 Solicitations Preview

After over 20 years, this stubborn girl finally got her wish and wrote that Punisher story...



...and after that, she wrote another one.

Buy both in March 2010!

More On Girl Comics at Marvel.com

This Wednesday Q & A w/ Girl Comics editor Jeanine Schaefer gives more insight on the upcoming 3-issue anthology...and even reveals what character I'm writing for it!

That's right...I'm writing a Squirrel Girl story!

No, not really. Guess again!

(that said, I've always wanted to write a Squirrel Girl story...)

Girl Comics

Via The Beat
I'd pontificate more about it here, but I'm on super-deadlines today. Suffice it to say I'm very happy to be working on the project, and alongside such luminaries in the comic book field!

Tired Boy

Just got back from spending the entire day at the vet's office. My oldest cat, who is around 16 years old, hasn't been looking good lately, so I wanted to get him checked out. I figured maybe he had asthma or high blood pressure or something. Something he needed a pill for.

So the vet looks at him and says she needs to run a battery of tests. That unless it's worst-case scenario, they'll just go slow and gently give him tests and X-rays throughout the day. You know, unless he's got that big tumor in his lung or an enlarged heart or something catastrophic like that, in which case they'll contact us right away and have a Talk.

Within twenty minutes of leaving him there, we get the call to come back to the vet's office.

He has congestive heart failure. We can keep optimistic, give him some pills and see if they make a difference in the short-term. An emergency cardiologist will give a more specific prognosis, with a list of suggestions. But the overall idea is: he's quickly nearing the end of his life.

I have so much history bound up with this cat (Thomas). He's been such a good cat. I have three cats, and none of them purrs as loud or as strong as this one. It's ironic that he's dying of an overly large heart.

Sometimes you have conflicting emotions regarding pets. Part of you is like: this is an animal. This is not a human. This animal is old. This is the natural process of life. Be rational about this.

And then part of you is like falling apart. It's all about the cat. And it's all about all those years of life you've spent with the cat. It's about an era of your life quickly closing up. It's all about one of the few consistent elements of a large section of your life possibly disappearing.

He's lying down now on a pile of comic books. Cats love lying down on comic books. They're smooth and cool. I've prepared him a bowl of food. He's not eating it. He looks completely drained and exhausted. He's been looking utterly exhausted for a while now, for weeks. The most spry I've seen him was when we came to pick him up today, while he was in the oxygen tank. He was like: here I am! Take me home, please. Let me gesture more so you don't miss me and perhaps forget to take me home.

I had adopted him as a baby from a man giving away kittens on a street corner. The old man cautioned as he handed me the gray kitten: "Don't be one of those people who'll take home a kitten and then abandon it when it's no longer cute." Now, the issue is how to make Thomas's end-of-life the most comfortable and secure.

I'm glad me and Thomas have made this journey with each other.

Frank Castle and Me

As maybe some of you have read on Bleeding Cool, I am writing a Punisher MAX book. I have a pretty busy schedule today, but I'm taking a few minutes just to say some words about the project.

Rich Johnston's article might sound like a lot of hype, but I guarantee you this is a book that not only lives up to the hype but surpasses it. It is an unique experience in the realm of comic books (which I realize you hear all the time, but it's true in this case), and I think you will enjoy it.

I remember first reading the Punisher's adventures when I was in middle school. It was that first miniseries by Steven Grant and Mike Zeck. I wasn't even allowed to buy these sort of comics, I had to borrow them from other kids and read them in school. And that miniseries had a big impact on me. I never read anything like that before, only funny animal & superhero books.


Theoretically, Punisher was in the same universe as Spider-Man and the rest. But this was a different type of comic book. Everything about that mini-series, including Zeck's dynamic & bone-crushing art, blew my mind.

So when at the ripe age of about 13 I decided I was going to pitch to Marvel and become a famous comic book writer, I pitched a Punisher story. And I got a call back from an editor at Marvel telling me he liked the story & offering me an internship. But alas I was way too young to qualify for the internship. I remember the editor being shocked as to how young I was.

I never got any sort of patronizing spiel from this editor as to the Punisher not being the appropriate subject matter for a girl. His biggest advice for me was that as I got older, I would gain more life experience, and that this increased life experience would enrich my writing. So he told me to just be patient, get that life experience, and come back to Marvel when I was older.

And you know? That's exactly what I did.

Do You Want Me To Let You In On A Little Secret?

I'm really digging this Lady Gaga person. Her music is as catchy as hell.

Deadfool And The File Cabinet Of Infinite Memory

It always seemed to me that the most powerful fictional characters would not be determined by their strength, wealth, or intelligence – but rather, by their ability to realize they were fictional.

For what good is everything else if you are not aware of your own fictionality, of the true nature of your very existence?


In this sense, a character like Deadpool's exemplary physical durability is really just a metaphor for his enlightenment as to the fact that he is a fictional character. Fictional characters can be chopped up, burnt, exploded, decapitated, what have you – but they cannot truly die, as long as there is at least one person existing who can keep creating stories (official or otherwise) about them.


Deadpool represents the first card of the Tarot deck – techincally the first card, but not the card labelled "1." No, the first card, The Fool, is a "0." The Fool is off the grid. The grid being interpreted as Maya, as the delusional/fictional reality. Or: the grid as comic book grid, as a sequence of panels on the page.

Thus, Deadpool plays the part of Fool, but he just might be, due to his self-awareness, the most powerful character in the Marvel Universe.


Similarly, the entity known as Superboy/Superboy Prime/Superman Prime is by far one of the most powerful beings in the DC Universe (though Animal Man, by virtue of his close collaboration with Grant Morrison, comes in a close second, I think).

Of course, The Super Prime Entity is insane, which shows the inherent danger in this entire game. He took things too seriously. He devolved into insanity. Whereas Deadpool protects himself by insanity & foolishness being his initial starting point. The Super Prime Entity needs to know it all, hence his obsessive trolling of message boards, what have you (which would really drive anyone insane)...


...on the other hand, Wade Wilson, like any of the Fool/Trickster archetype – Heyoka, Coyote, Loki, Eshu, Bugs Bunny – seemingly knows nothing, and only is interested in jokes and tricks. Deadpool is an idiot – and yet he has achieved contact with the world outside the boundaries of the grid. Deadpool has achieved enlightenment but wears the cloak of insanity/foolishness in order to process it. Whereas the Super Prime Entity is a know-it-all douchebag with no sense of humor.

As an interesting side-note, the traditional colors of the Yoruban Fool/Trickster god Eshu are red and black, as is of course Deadpool's costume.









Now, you might have experienced a certain "tingle" at those moments in fiction when the character turns around and acknowledges you. There is the famous scene in Animal Man, of course, where Buddy Baker turns to the world outside the panel and freaks out, locking eyes with yours. Or how about when Ferris Bueller (another Fool/Trickster archetype) addresses you throughout the course of his movie? In these instances, something truly special is taking place – you and the fictional character are "having a moment." There is a real interface that takes place, if only for those few seconds of contact. Yes, just like in the A-Ha video.


It is not coincidence that the two comic book writers who have most explicitly discussed these matters in their work, Alan Moore and Grant Morrison, have both practiced magick. They are shamans using the tool of the comic book quite literally and purposefully as part of a mystic working stretching/expanding our conceptions of fiction & reality. They are not merely gently touching the invisible barrier between reader and read – they are like the Super Prime Entity smashing that last wall, "punching time."


The sequence of panels in my old blog banner used to bother me. If we read the three panels in the standard Western way, from left to right, it seems that "I" (Occasional Superheroine) start as as pencil drawing, get color and ink dropped in, and then become a photograph of a real person. Whereas the way it really happened, of course, is that it started with a photograph given to an artist, penciled, and then ink/color dropped in. Though ACTUALLY, it started with me (real me) taking the photograph, then photograph itself, then pencils, then color/ink, then scan/digitization.


But then again, even that woman in the photograph no longer quite exists. Her hair is different. She's older. Her thoughts have developed. A good number of her cells have died and been replaced. The photographs, her writings, her memories, and the memories of others are the only real touchstones that this particular version even existed at all. We can't go back and find this 2007 me, physically point to her, and use her as some sort of hard evidence for the fact that she actually existed. All we have are memories and various media.

It is said that to our subconscious, fantasy & reality look pretty much the same. That a dream vividly experienced registers in the subconscious the same as a "real" event. How does our brains, then, process the fictional? In the grand matrix of our minds, where are the adventures of Deadpool, the Super Primes, etc. stored, and how are they regarded? They are filed away with our memories of real life events. Memories and media, anecdotes and images, recollections and typed words transfered into thought – it's all in the same file cabinet.


All we have is This Moment. And if "this moment" happens to be you curling up with your favorite movie or comic book – in that pinpoint of a moment, it is all real. In that pinpoint of a moment, Ferris Bueller is really locking eyes with you and addressing you, playing the part of Heyokah, playing the part of the Fool, playing the part of Bugs Bunny, trying to make you understand not just the nature of his world but your own. And trying to do it with a degree of good humor, frosting it with sillyness and humor, so as for your tender minds not to be completely blown.

Of course, I'm probably full of shit.

Twilight Time Warp: Stuck In A Moment

Love is forever...after marriage

I've found Christopher Knowles's interpretations of the "Twilight" phenomenon – that it is heavily rooted in Mormon/Christian culture and traditional ideas of courtship/marriage – very provocative. Certainly, he is not the first writer to make this connection, but he summarizes the situation very succinctly.


Of particular interest is the possible explanation he offers for why comic book fans are so angry about young hordes of teenage Twilight fans "invading" their conventions:

"And of course Twilight has brought armies of young girls into cons, infuriating the older male fans. Almost as if armies of Christian families had descended on formerly Gnostic or Neoplatonic shrines in the Roman era. It's fascinating how many of those aging male fans are objectivists or militant atheists and/or skeptics, and how many of them are unmarried and childless.

If demography is indeed destiny, then the Fanboy as we've known him may be entering his own twilight."

Ironic that the girls were screaming in the 1950s for Elvis Presley's unrestrained sexuality, his promise of passion as enshrined in his gyrating hips – and now they scream for the antithesis of sex, the palid and proper Edward Cullen. Certainly, both figures possesses great, if not epic, hair. But completely different vibe.











If we are indeed, as some have pointed out, currently in a strange analogue of the 1970s, is the fan-worship of such clean-cut figures as Edward, The Brothers Jonas, etc. really the equivalent of the worship of the Brothers Cassidy (Sean and David), Leif Garrett, and the rest of the Tiger Beat crew?


After the Summer of Love matured into the Summer of Murder and Manson's flower children were either incarcerated, burned out, or training to become the soulless businessmen of the 1980s, America needed a more wholesome set of young entertainers. Enter The Carpenters, the brother and sister team who in their cheery-and-chaste companionship had about as much real sexual tension between them as Edward and Bella. A legion of "clean" teen idols followed.


Go back in time and you will see the same phenomena happening in the late 1950s, as a number of rock icons (Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis) get busted for various indiscretions & Elvis enters the army. We see the ascendancy of that upholder of good Christian values Pat Boone, and of the Mickey Mouse Club school of Entertainers of Tomorrow.

Elvis, Tamed

This all means, if the Timewave Zero theory of repeating returns is accurate, that all the Twi-mania will settle down in a few years, as its stars, and the other teen idols that currently fill the pantheon, attempt to do as many outrageous and "adult" things as possible to kill the golden goose and become "serious" performers. I anticipate with glee the Pattinson sex tapes, his upcoming Vanity Fair photo shoot where he frenches Adam Lambert and JUST DOESN'T CARE DAMMIT!!!

Eff Bella

But this shift will not fully take place until Republicans/Conservatives are back in power in some form and there is something left to rebel against in contemporary society. I mean really, what do teenagers have to fight against in a status quo that gives them condoms in school, frowns on restrictive rules and regulations, and generally says that they are OK just the way they are? Certainly, I am not arguing against any of the aforementioned phenomena. I'm just saying that the evolutionary drive in the human animal seems to be wired in adolescence to rebel against something. Anything. Even sex.


And so the girls rebel, participating in the chaste bacchanalia that is Twilight. The "Punk-Rock" ethic of saying "fuck you" to TPTB has become Palinized. Sarah Palin is more hated by the status quo than Charles Manson, and meanwhile "Uncle Charlie" sits, well-groomed and grandfatherly, in a cell in Corcoran espousing a program of environmental awareness not that much different from Al Gore's.

"Uncle Charlie"

This is the biggest irony of all, the one that those who incessantly complain about "Twi-tards," Sarah Barracuda, Glenn Beck, and the rest of the usual suspects just...don't...GET. The targets of their hate are the rebels, get it? These Conservative icons are the current moment's equivalent of Marilyn Manson's assless leather Nazi pants. These are whose names you mention in polite company and elegant dinner parties if you want to get a rise just for the lulz. It used to be that a girl masturbating with a cross was considered the most blasphemous image to be shown on film. But if you really want to piss people off in the mainstream media now, have a girl in a movie just hold up a cross. Punk rock/Jesus saves! Whoooo!!! Tellin' it to the MAN!

Punk Rock

The fundamental history lesson is this: IT ALL COMES BACK AROUND, AND IT ALL FLIPS TO ITS OPPOSITE POLARITY. This always happens.


This is the nature of reality: it is an eternal game of Pong, between the poles of Left and Right, Yin and Yang, Black and White, Communist and Capitalist, Religious and Atheist. Each side defining themselves in relation to the Other.


Those Who Know, they understand how to quietly step to the side and to observe the entire absurd dance from a distance. And they do. And sometimes they even make good money off of it, these "Polarity Profiteers."


As for me? I do it largely for the lulz.

BONUS: Man, 41, just finds out that his real dad is Charles Manson. No joke.

"My hero is Gandhi. I'm an extremely non-violent, peaceful person and a vegetarian. I don't even kill bugs."