Today’s Unanswered Question
You guys: Why isn’t there a massive, incredibly-promoted-by-the-mainstream-so-everyone-realized-how-amazing-she-is print collection of Kate Beaton’s comics yet? I mean, come on.
The Thing We Are In
Now, I don’t really want to be a superhero comic book writer. I used to; I remember an earlier, younger me that wanted that more than anything and would’ve killed someone (Admittedly, an already frail, near death someone who most definitely and clearly deserved to die, but still) to make that happen, even if it was only writing back-ups in X-Factor annuals starring Havok and Polaris even though they were most definitely the most boring members of the team. But these days, I’ve managed to convince myself that I am completely not cut for that life – My fragile ego and lack of imagination standing testament to the fact that, if I tried, I’d be laughed out of the editor’s office faster than you can say “Look, all I pitched was another Avengers book, you’d've thought that would’ve been right up your alley.”
A large part of it, I admit, is realizing that there aren’t that many characters that I’d be that interested in writing. Oh, there are plenty I can come up with ideas that I’d want to read (The Demon versus the Creeper: Jack Ryder tries to debunk Jason Blood’s supernatural interests with magical results!), but wanting to write? Uh… not so much, really. And then, this weekend, I realized: I’d love to write the Thing.
I can’t explain it: It’s not like there’s a story anywhere in my head about the character, or that I’m a massive Fantastic Four fan (Lee/Kirby’s run? Awesome. Byrne? Really great. Walt Simonson? Spectacular. Waid/Wieringo? The best it’d been in more than a decade. But aside from that…), but I was reading old Marvel Two-In-One issues and I realized: I would love to write a Thing comic. There’s something about Ben Grimm as a character, his inherent sweetness and goodness and faux gruff exterior (to match a truly rough physical exterior, after all) and his friendliness, that completely fascinates me. Even more than I’d happily read someone writing about him on a regular basis (And yet, again, I don’t buy Fantastic Four or Avengers. Go figure), I’d want to write him. Even if I don’t know what I’d do with him, given the chance.
(Probably something completely off-tone, all Kirby wonder and ridiculous science and people “talking” in “quotation marks” when some fantasy element is brought in. Time travel! Alternate worlds! Space! High adventure and romance and guest-stars, guest-stars, guest-stars!)
Wotta revoltin’ development.
Baaaaah Bah, Baaaaah Bah, Baaaaah Bah, Baaaaah Bah Baaaaah
Like the rest of the world*, I am currently happily devouring the new season of AMC’s Mad Men, albeit in large chunks on TiVo when I’m in the mood, as opposed to tuning in each and every Sunday (That role went to TNT’s Leverage, which sadly ended last weekend for awhile, but which I’d be very happy if it somehow managed to go on forever, without break. I doubt the cast or creator John Rogers would be a massive fan of that idea, though). This season, in particular, it feels like the show’s gotten a better grip on tone after last year’s grimness, but what’s really grabbing me this year much more than Don’s increasing downward spiral is the complexity that the series gives both Joan and Peggy. The last two episodes – with Joan holding both Roger and Don’s hands under the table to give them the security they both needed, for different reasons, or Peggy’s incredibly shitty birthday – felt like a sign that, as Betty seems to be drifting into the background more and more, and Joan comes back to the foreground, the writers are finding a way to move on from whatever bedeviled them last season (Am I the only one who thought the women were either background or bitches last year?) and, as the men fall apart in the brave new world of the mod mid-60s, show women who are… well, something close to well-rounded, real people?
(* – This may be a slight exaggeration.)
Twitter Admits Its Secret Shame
Yes, that is Twitter telling me that it has no users I may be interested in.
What’s That Sound?
It’s good to know I’m not the only person who sews their beeper into the lining of my shorts.
Yo, Joes? You Might Owe George Lucas Some Royalties
So, a mixture of a holiday weekend, sickness and Roku updating so I can browse Netflix Instant on the television (Seriously, it felt like the future had come to my house!) meant that I ended up watching GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra this past weekend, and there’s one thing in particular that I have to ask everyone I know who’d already seen it: Why did none of you tell me that it was Star Wars?!?
For those who haven’t seen it: This may sound like a bit of a surprise, I know, but I promise, it’s true. By the time the movie ends, we’ve seen a barely disguised assault on the Death Star (except the Death Star is an underwater base with a massive pulse cannon, and the spaceships are all special submarines), a lightsaber battle between two Jedi (except the Jedi are ninjas – which, let’s face it, kind of fits, right? – and the lightsabers are just regular swords, but still) and the birth of Darth Fucking Vader, except this time he’s called “Joseph Gordon Levitt, you’re playing Cobra Commander, seriously, were you desperate for money or something?” (Also in the movie and slumming it: Christopher Eccleston as Destro, basically pretending to be Sean Connery, and Jonathan Pryce as the Apparently English President Of The United States, because it seemingly would’ve killed him to try an accent.)
I guess there’s some weird cosmic irony that a movie adapted from a toyline is so desperate to model itself after a movie series that many people think became hi-jacked by a toyline, but it just ended up being oddly surprising to me, watching it and counting all the parallels. Of course, Joe didn’t have anyone as cool as Han Solo, even though it really tried to pretend than whatever Wayans brother (Marlon?) was really amazing really, but it could’ve been worse: Poor Sienna Miller could’ve had to have had Princess Leia’s bagel hair or something.