Commentary Track for The Buy Pile, July 15, 2010
Every week I do a column full of comic book reviews as I’ve done since March 2003 and currently published at Comic Book Resources. Then, after the reviews post, I try to come over to my blog and expand on the thoughts and ideas listed there. Sometimes it’s profound, sometimes it’s gibberish, but it’s always about comics … let’s see what we get this week!
What? This week’s reviews …
KEEP IT MOVING: I liked the idea of “as I go” updates to my newly-launched mobile site, but I forgot that T-Mobile’s connection speeds in Culver City for about a mile or two around Overland and Jefferson vary between “tedious” and “lethargic,” at least on three phones I’ve owned (Palm, Samsung, Nokia). It did feel like tweeting with titles, and I haven’t poked at Tumblr long enough to figure out how to do it via SMS (can it be done? I’ll hie me unto Google momentarily), so I made due. Maybe I should set up the email client on my phone and quit being a weirdo. Meh. The Early Forecast (name may change, I’m not settled on it yet) comes out at 9PM Wednesdays from here on out, so say we all.
A SHINING EXAMPLE: The heroism of The Silver Agent really worked for me this week. Sorry about the possibility of [SPOILERS] here, but this ain’t the reviews.
Anyway, he could have stayed, happily, in the 43rd century. Could have lived out a long life in the arms of a woman who loved him. But his sense of duty, of responsibility, ingrained in him from watching the men in his family serve the public good, wouldn’t let him accept complacency. He fought to learn to walk, he fought for justice in the face of adversity, and when gifted with power, he fought to give back. The fairly simplistic moral stance has such thorough and well-written development from Mssr. Kurt Busiek that you can really sink your teeth into it. I love Astro City not just because the stories are interesting (they are) or because the characters are so well developed (again, they are) but because Busiek has developed such a rich and vibrant interconnected world for these things to inhabit. Tarnished Angel to the Heretic, the Furst Family to Charles and Royal Williams, all seamlessly built, all wonderfully nuanced. Beautiful work, as (pretty much) always (and yes, I noticed that the Astro City team led sixteen issues with Black protagonists in the last year or two, and I do appreciate it).
FINESSE FEVER AND PIETRO MAXIMOFF SYNDROME: Don’t get me wrong, I really liked JMS’ turn on Superman #701. I’ll probably go back and buy it, honestly, or maybe if the rest of the run (walk?) works this well, I’ll actually buy a Superman trade for the first time in my life. However, as I noted in the mobile blog, I decided to buy a comic that more spoke to who I am than who I could be (Kal-El in possibly one of his most effective appearances in the twenty first century).
The easy way to interpret that is that I mean that I’m like Finesse. Socially weird, always having a problem figuring out the right way to speak to people. Once I’m “in the paint” I’m fine, I can carry on a conversation about many normal everyday topics, from that godawful thing Ryan Reynolds is wearing to sports to politics. However, the anxiety I feel in having to actually go up and deal with somebody on a personal level (which can extend as far as asking for directions but definitely had an impact on my dating life before discovering the wonder of my wife) is an every day thing that leads me to sit in the back whenever I go to a meeting, that hindered my ability to connect with people at Bar Con (except people I thought I knew well), that has me relying on a prepackaged list of canned responses for most inquiries like I was a T-1000 on the phone with a teen aged John Connor. Unlike Finesse, though, I did set fires, I was far from kind to animals and — even now, as the doting father of two daughters — I’m kind of a jerk (spirit bless my wife for putting up with me). Like her, I learn things easily, I learned how to fight watching people fighting (in real life more than movies, where I could see the distance between the swing and the intended target by the time I was five, and simply took wrestling — growing up watching Jerry “The King” Lawler take down that one strap just in time for a burst of energy to allow him to win countless times — as high theatre for low brows), I’m very good at observation and listening, then being able to mimic what happened.
Moreover, Finesse had shades of T’Pol, a hint of the struggles of Rose Wilson, some of Data’s quest to grasp the human condition and even some of the manipulative talents of Daken (her scene with Hank Pym was priceless). There’s a lot to like about a character than has the potential to do anything, but stands at a place where certain conditions discourage or prevent some of her from doing everything.
Sure, I share some similarities with Finesse, but I’ve always felt much, much more like Pietro Maximoff than anyone else. From questionable parentage (I’ve been asked not to say more publicly for reasons best left unsaid) to a checkered past with one foot in the camps of angels and the other often dancing with the devil, I’ve done wrong and been forgiven, I’ve played hero and villain, “I took the good with the bad and sometimes did a little bit of both,” with apologies to Brother J, finding it easier to … what did Pietro say? Easier to not have the villagers after me with torches and pitchforks, something like that (don’t have the issue in front me me). Everything he’s lost and worked to gain, his struggles with his own determination, with his own frustrated ambitions and the tedious pace of most of mortality (Leonard Samson’s description of “Pietro Maximoff Syndrome” in the original Peter David-penned X-Factor #11 still sticks with me, years later) … that’s a song I can sing all the words to without ever looking at the screen. Standing behind somebody at an automated machine, punching buttons fruitlessly, reading instructions aloud, knowing what they need to do and being able to do it faster but being stuck … that’s my whole freaking life. No matter what’s happening, as long as I can remember, I’ve always felt like Panic! At The Disco. “Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster, faster …”
We both even have a thing for lightning bolts on our chests.
So I chose Avengers Academy #2 over the great Superman #701, because I want to have the luxury and the clarity of Kal-El. He’s walking across the country because he can. He has the power and more importantly he has the freedom. He never considers getting fired — why would he care? He doesn’t think about making sure he can cover gymnastic lessons and the cell phone on his next check — crush a coal into diamond, why doncha? His wife’s okay with him not being around for long periods of time to fulfil his sense of responsibility to his powers and his heritage — she’s just as likely to do the same, but for actual reporting. He’s able to swing back by the same south Philadelphia neighborhood every few weeks to set fire to stashes of drugs because he can fly and it doesn’t effect his life — being late to the Daily Planet one morning (or dozens of them), doesn’t mean anything to him or to anyone else. He never thinks he might miss the first time his child stands up or cooks a meal while he’s off with Green Lantern punching Mongul in the face for weeks at a time. Unlike most of us, Superman has very few things to tie him to any place because his powers give him the freedom to be most places pretty quickly and because — apparently — it’s okay with everyone who loves him if he buggers off for long spans of time. Even when I slept twelve hours a day and played Grand Theft Auto for fifteen hour stretches, I couldn’t even imagine that kind of freedom. I doubt many people could envision such an existence, because it’s not even an option for us. It’s easy to hover in front of a suicidal girl for hours on end (costing taxpayers money when he zapped that spotlight, by the way) when you’re essentially able to do anything.
I don’t need that kind of pressure. The more I talk about it, the more I’m glad I didn’t bring Superman home — I’m a father, I have enough impossible ideals to live up to that one day those little girls will realize I can’t reach. When I was little, growing up with my great aunt and uncle (long story), I thought he was the smartest dude in the world and knew everything. When I was eleven, I woke up in the middle of the night to find him in the kitchen reading everything I was reading — comics, books on Norse mythology, school books. He was just ahead of me. In retrospect, that makes him really impressive, and I appreciate that, but he can never be the omniscient knower of all things I once perceived. I know my girls will have to accept such a loss one day, in some perception of me I may not even notice. I can’t be Superman, but I sure as hell am Pietro Maximoff and probably Finesse too. That’s a story I can relate to — not to take anything away from one of JMS’ best scripts in years, but that’s the way I roll.
Not walk.
To be fair, Superman did float an idea I really liked — personal responsibility for where you are. I’d just need to be more bulletproof to act more openly, as again I have other people to think about, people who depend on my safety.
… AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT: That was surprisingly personal, n’est ce pas? Maybe I’ll talk about something stupid and vacuous next week. Definitely more mobile site shenanigans.
But hey — enough about me, what do you wanna say? I tend to forget to shut up some times, so if there’s something on your mind (“Hannibal is an idiot/genius/his hair smells like justice”) … well, I’m off of Twitter and Facebook for a year to watch the once-in-a-lifetime growth of one of those aforementioned kids, so you’ll have to make due with the comments form here on the blog or (if you’re shy) use the contact form to email me.
Back to the grind — I have a lot to do before I get the invitation to be the keynote speaker at Blogworld 2012 alongside Erick Sermon and introduced by Jenny “The Bloggess” Lawson, plus, you know, normal life. Thanks for reading!
Playing (Music): “Ever Lost” by Coldplay feat. Drake from the October’s Very Cold mixtape
[...] When I was writing the commentary track for the July 15th Buy Pile, I got so worked up about Pietro and Kal-El that I forgot to note something hilarious. The [...]