I received seven e-mails asking me when I was going to sign in on the ongoing, largely online conflict between Captain Marvel scribe Peter A. David and his corporate overlords at Marvel, Joe Quesada and Bill Jemas. The first five didn't sway me, but finally, I gave in when I saw the last two from people I respect and trust, both deeply frustrated at the public face of our private addiction, the comic book art form.

The second time, I had the idea I'd play Gail Simone and do a kind of samurai fable, a prosaic "story" that would illustrate the madness of the situation. I took a swipe at it, and discovered that the ending was never satisfactory. It only felt good when the wandering samurai sliced off the heads of the wicked, but I kept having a hard time settling on who caught the blade. Everybody has some form of culpability and everybody has at least one solid point. Yes, even Bill Jemas.

So here we are on take three, and I'm forced to deal with a number of sad realities. At 29, I find it hard to take disputes thousands of miles away seriously, whether they are based on land claims or sales numbers. None of it affects my mortgage, my marriage, my everyday existence. I find it insulting to think that people who make so much more money than me are, in effect, freakin' idiots. I find it distressing to know that this dispute is taking place at a company that is among the leaders of an industry I am working to improve, one that has given me so much over those 29 years.

From the top...

It was a severe and terrifying tactical mistake for Peter David to take this discussion to the public forum. From as far back as my "... every minute" column, it is clear that Jemas (and to a lesser degree Quesada, who is not really my concern today) can spin a story with the best of them. PAD, who's a great guy, made a public exodus from Usenet after some fans mocked his loss of a photo album (according to my reading of the posts, go on Google and search for "chased PAD away" and you should find what I mean). It was never a fair fight, as PAD's a fine writer and a less-than-stellar spin doctor.

Quesada's initial emotional response was, as he himself admitted later, equally inappropriate. It's understandable: A guy you've known for years bushwhacks you in a public forum, you fly off the handle. As the number-one guy at one of the biggest, most public comic book companies in spacetime, is it so unusual to expect a higher degree of professionalism and composure? The fans do. Like Levitz or not, when has he (or anybody at DC, in recent memory) been involved in so public an imbroglio, in such an emotional state?

Since his installation as overlord of Marvel, Jemas has desperately wanted to get off the sidelines and get into the game. He shoehorned his name into the credits of pretty much every Marvel comic. He "massaged" the message of Ultimate Spider-Man and took a major turn in the USB hardcover. This sad sign of egotism which hearkens back to the Made Men controversy in the Source shows the "Bill Jemas/Mark Bagley Sketchbook" in which...well, let's say it's damned hard to find a Bill Jemas sketch in there. Looking at the column inches on the creator bios, somehow Jemas' ended up twice as long as everybody else's. Then, of course, there's always the wisdom of listening to a man who puts his "foreword" in the back of the book. (Keep in mind that there already exists a legitimate literary device called—wait for it—an afterword.) So, when he shows up with his sales-for-sales challenge (again refer to the spin doctor reference. Who do you think really has a chance there?), disses Spider-Girl and Black Panther as hopeless and generally tries to be the big dog in the yard...well, it's all a bit sad, really. First of all, how many intelligent executives attack their own products? And secondly, is his life so devoid of validation that he needs to put down his own staffers, people who (in every case) have devoted years of their lives to the advancement of the company, two as editors? Is his envy of creative people so grandiose that he takes any opportunity, even at the expense of his own products, to create a vanity project for himself?

All around, it's a black eye on the industry, the sort of WWF antics that set the art form back ten years as far as being taken seriously as literature. Twenty years from now, Peter David's Future Imperfect will stand, along with some of his other work, and still be regarded favorably. Can anything done by Jemas stand in that light?

I didn't want to write this, ultimately. I made a New Year's resolution to myself to stop kicking Marvel in the face so often. I'm glad Quesada and David talked it out like adults and settled their personal beef. I'm proud of Quesada for taking a public stand on his boss' immaturity thusly:

"Well, after reading Bill's ridiculous interview with Mike Sangiacomo, all I can do is apologize to both Peter David and the comic book community as a whole. As most of you have seen in Bill's Q&A column that he writes for Ain't it Cool.com, there is a disclaimer that reads, 'Joe Quesada would like to remind readers that the opinions stated by Mr. Jemas do not necessarily reflect those of the staff of Marvel Comics.' It was originally written in jest, but never has it seemed more relevant. I also want to apologize to fandom for having this thing take a turn for the worse, and, even worse, having it unfold in public. All I wanted to do was keep a book alive, and then later try to do right by its creator by coming to a decent compromise that could help a book that was in need of a sales spike. I really don't know what else to say. I'm at a loss. However, there is a little something that I can do to provide a bit of fairness. I don't get this whole macho attitude that, 'whomever sells the least amount of copies gets canceled.' It's incredibly foolish, especially if both books sell incredibly high, yet one has to close shop. It's also not a level playing field. So in the spirit of fairness, Captain Marvel will launch with a new #1. This will at least create a favorable enough atmosphere in which Peter can soundly kick Bill's ass. At work, I've been busting Bill's chops about this whole cancellation thing to no avail, so now I'm going to air it all out in public and perhaps he'll listen, since he's becoming more and more the message board lurker these days. Put something else on the table Bill, the cancellation thing is lame."

As a consumer, I'm going to spend a great deal of energy not buying anything personally advocated by Bill Jemas, and recommending the same to anyone who'll listen. I was able to dodge Nicolas Cage flicks for two years until he agreed to not be Superman; this will be no different. (I'll catch up in back issues if it's anything remotely decent—a move that takes cash from Jemas' pockets.)

I've gone a long way to clean up my column, take it more seriously, be more mature in my research and content development. You won't see me, armed with a Super Soaker filled with custard, storming the Marvel offices, as I've theorized about doing on many occasions. I'm an award-winning jackass, and I'm trying to grow up.

Is that so much to ask of any of us?