Category: Columns

Martha Thomases: Disappearing Doonesbury

Doonesbury is going on an open-ended hiatus. Boo.  Hiss.

In the link above, creator Garry Trudeau says, “I’ve done the strip for 43 years — 45 if you include the college edition [at Yale] — and I’m ready for an extended break.”  He wants to spend his time writing Alpha House, his brilliant series on Amazon Prime that stars John Goodman and Clark Johnson.

But what about me?  What about my needs?

I’ve written before about how much I love Trudeau’s brilliant newspaper strip.  I’ve been reading it almost as long as it’s been running in syndication.  Back before the Internets, my mom would cut each strip out of the paper and mail them to me when I was away at school.  That started when I was in high school.  The Beatles were still together.

Since then, I think I’ve read the strip every day it’s run.  Trudeau took some time off over the years, to take a break, to recharge  his creative batteries.  At first, this caused something of a scandal, since no other syndicated cartoonist had done that before.  The risk of losing income through losing audience and subscribing papers was too high.

Trudeau showed it could be done.  These days, cartoonists take breaks when they need them.

I get that intellectually, and politically I’m with them.  No one should be burned out by over-work, whether that work is drawing Pulitzer Prize-winning comics or making fries.  We each deserve to live a life balanced among responsibilities, joys, family and community.  If we’re going to talk about the “dignity” of work, we should treat all workers with dignity.

Having said that, I really resent this break he’s taking.  He made me fall in love with these characters, to watch them live and grow, and now he’s taking them away.  I’ve loved B.D. and Joannie and Mark and Duke and Mike and especially Zonker as much as — no, more — than some people in my own family.

Trudeau promises they will be back on Sundays, at least for the foreseeable future.  I can read my old collections, and the archives online.  It will be like going off to college, where, instead of seeing your folks every day, you call them once a week.  They are still part of your life, just not as much.

Don’t forget to come home for Thanksgiving, Garry.  We’ll save you a seat at the table.

Michael Davis: Damage Control

A sad day in comics is coming.

Sad days are in my opinion, the one thing that the comic book business knows better that any other entertainment business. Yes, other media has its share of sad days but those are usually the death of someone.

I wish (and so do you) I had a dollar every time I’ve heard some newscaster, after lowering their voice, state with deep, deep sorrow:

“It’s a sad day in Hollywood, Bart Simpson was shot and killed this morning when he smiled at a man in Florida. After the man shot the famed Simpson he told police he thought the smile was a gun. This was the latest in what has become a wave of ‘colored’ killings.  Florida’s ‘Stand your ground ruling’ accomplished what critics of the law thought it was intended for, the elimination of Black kids from the cites of Florida. Once the last Black child was eliminated, killings of other colored youth (including cartoon characters) spiked to new highs.

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Marc Alan Fishman: I Am Hook, LaForge, and Wolverine.

Every so-often, the social media circuit regurgitates little worthless surveys. Perhaps your news feed is clogged with them? While I appreciate Facebook’s hide feature… frankly, I just scroll past then without a thought. Except when I – the ego-driven ne’er-do-well I am – determine that yes, indeed I must know which Disney Villain I am. And a few minutes later, I’m delivered output as thorough, reputable, and savory as a strip-mall psychic’s buy-one get-one reading. I figured as I had nothing to bitch about this week (unlike the feminists, legends, and/or afrofuturists that share column space with me) I might as well take a few of the quizzes for you, my adoring public. Allow me to help you figure out the absolute amazing enigma that is Marc Alan Fishman.

 

I am Randy Savage. Faced with the notion of Which Old School Pro Wrestling Legend Are You? I was quite pleased to be told I am the Macho Man. Aside from being the single greatest pitch man for salty meat sticks ever, Randy Savage was widely known amongst wrestling fans as the smart-mans Hulk Hogan. I’d like to think that I too am more a technical talent – suited more for the thinking my way out of a situation rather than with brute force – and that my passion seeps out of my pores. That… and I’d look amazing in a rhinestone cowboy hat and matching robe with wings. OH YEAH!

 

I am Michael Stipe of R.E.M. That’s me in the corner. That’s me in the spot. Light. Losing my relig– sorry. When faced with Which 90’s Alt Rock Dude Are You? quiz,  it’s fitting I’d get someone considered tame in comparison to the others I could have been. Stipe is a thinker, not a drinker. He and his band represented a shift toward arty music videos, and lyrics that might make you think. He was angsty, which I can be from time to time. But beyond much else? Michael Stipe is a man of solid convictions. I’d like to think I’m getting there. I should note he also wrote a song about Andy Kaufman, and I loved Andy Kaufman. So, there’s that.

 

My Disney Best Friend is Pascal from “Tangled”. Well, the Internet can’t be right all the time. Or maybe it is? Frankly, I’ve not seen the Disney flick in question. According to the results though “You’ve got a dream and you just want to explore the world and live a little.” And you know what? That’s actually very true. I do have a dream that The Samurnauts, and my lil’ company, Unshaven Comics, would be successful. And through that success we might just get to see a bit more of the world than we currently do on nights, weekends, and occasional holidays. And if that means a weird spiral tailed lizard is along for the ride? So be it.

 

I am Ron Weasley. Well, I don’t have a ton of siblings (in fact I have none). But I did wind up with a detail oriented muggle, and our child is adorable. I’d like to think my parents could provide better for me than a busted-ass wand, and rat for a pet. At the end of the semester though, I am a loyal friend, and fierce in defense of them when the going gets tough. Per the quiz I am “the funny one in your group of friends, but sometimes you use humor to hide your insecurities.” And well, what can I say? I am Michael Stipe. So, I’m sure there’s times when I let my insecurities be buried. But hey, Everybody Hurts.

I am Comic Book Guy. Look kiddos, I swear, I didn’t plan this. But in the grand scheme of Springfield? Well, I can’t complain. I am sarcastic when push comes to shove. I covet trinkets, gadgets, and the like. And if I were to have a heart-attack, I imagine I too would envision how to best pose dramatically before kneeling before Zod. Cheeseburgers and loneliness do make for a terrible combo. Lucky for me I married my own Agnes Skinner long ago. I must hope though, that my scion turns out better than Seymour. Best. Outcome. Ever.

 

I am Leonard Hofstader. Oddly enough, it seems fitting. When I look to Unshaven Comics as my real-life Big Bang Theory gang, it’s clear to me at least that I am leader by default. That being said, that means Kyle is Sheldon, and Matt is Howard. Which is really strange, since Matt isn’t jewish. Kyle, I should also add, may be particular in his nature… but no where near annoying. But I digress. “Straddling the line between sweet and sarcastic, you can transition between social circles with ease.” I couldn’t put it better myself. Growing up, I was a nerd. Hell, I still am. But within any other circle – be they jocks in gym class, my fellow choir-geeks, or the arty-kids… I was never at a loss for words or good humor. I’d like to note though: I can handle dairy products just fine.

 

I am Kirk. Well, what more would I say to that? Much like Leonard, my Kirk-ness is embolden to my natural leadership qualities. I’d like to think that I tend to surround myself with a talented crew who make me look better. Like here at ComicMix for example. Mike Gold, my Spock – keeping me on the correct path, in his own cryptic ways. Glenn Hauman, my Scotty – always ensuring the ship is operating efficiently (except when he’s stranded somewhere without an internet connection…). And of course, Michael Davis, my Uhura – c’mon, I had to go there.

 

Suffice to say, I am many things to many people. Clearly, you now know though, who I really am. For the record? I am Marc Alan Fishman, and I am not like any fictional being. I am me, and dag nabbit, I’m happy to just be myself.

Jen Krueger: What’s In A (User)Name?

Like most people, my Twitter username isn’t my actual name. I have no compunction about identifying myself by my real name on Twitter, and would’ve taken @jenkrueger if it had been available when I signed up. But even as far back as my first tweet in August of 2008, scoring my real name as a handle wasn’t possible.

Last week, an article entitled How I lost my $50,000 Twitter username caught my eye because the title made me wonder how a Twitter handle could possibly be worth so much, and what exactly constitutes losing it. Don’t get me wrong about the first bit: I’m no stranger to the idea that certain domain names and usernames can have a monetary value beyond what amount, if any, the customer pays the service provider to register the account. Businesses that care about their brand (read: almost all businesses) want to have control over the web address and social media profiles bearing their name, both for the obvious utility it provides their company, and perhaps even more importantly, to prevent anyone else from having that control. In the hands of someone other than Coca-Cola, the domain cocacola.com is dangerous; the site could speak well of a Coke competitor, poorly of Coke, or of unrelated topics that don’t necessarily harm Coke’s brand yet dilute it by not helping it, either.

So a $50,000 Twitter username didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility. It just seemed out of the realm of possibility today. Years ago, I’d heard of businesses offering upwards of $100,000 a pop to the enterprising early registrants of domains bearing the names of major companies. But the market for these transactions seemed to dry up fairly quickly as most businesses bought up their names. And since the value of a company owning its own name online became evident before social media became the behemoth chunk of the internet it is today, many businesses have been savvy enough to defensively grab usernames on burgeoning social networks over the past decade.

Every once in a while though, I still come across a story about someone that has managed to lay claim to a domain or username coveted by a company. But now these stories rarely end with a big payday. In 2010, Tumblr came under fire for turning over pitchfork.tumblr.com to Pitchfork magazine despite the fact that an individual had a personal blog at that address. Tumblr claimed the account had been dormant and the user hadn’t responded to an email inquiry about it. The user disputed these claims, but regardless of whether or not the account was wrongly released, there doesn’t seem to be any dispute over the fact that the incident began with Tumblr receiving a request for the URL directly from the magazine. It seems this bypassing of the account owner is the standard corporate play in these situations now, and whether or not a company can wrench a desired domain or username from someone else’s grasp is in the hands of the host of the desired site or service.

All these factors combined, then, made me assume the lost username in question was a company moniker acquired by corporate coercion after the account owner turned down a (rare by today’s standards) $50,000 offer for the handle. Then I read the article and was very surprised at how wrong both of my assumptions were. The lost username is @N, and its loss had nothing to do with a company. It was, for all intents and purposes, stolen by a hacker.

At first, I couldn’t reconcile this information about the target or the thief, but a few moments of mulling on social media made it click for me. Easy to remember and taking up the smallest possible amount of character real estate in tweets directed at them, short usernames are a virtual commodity on Twitter. Since there are only 26 possibilities for single character usernames, those are the most unique possible handles on the service. The incredibly vast internet user base today has combined with the exponentially expanding importance of online identity for individuals and companies alike to make uniqueness nearly priceless. When I look at it this way, I’m not at all surprised a hacker would want to seize one of the rarest usernames out there. Now I’m just surprised it isn’t happening more often.

Though I couldn’t get my real name as a Twitter handle, I see now that it must’ve been released and snagged by someone else shortly after I’d joined, as the inaugural tweets on my account and @jenkrueger’s are only 10 days apart. And since @jenkrueger’s only activity is that inaugural tweet in 2008 and a reply to another user six days later, I suppose I could email Twitter support to inquire about getting the username released to me. I could, but I won’t. After all, then I’d have to give up the Twitter name I’ve been using for the last few years, and I’d be seriously bummed out if someone else swooped in on it.

Mindy Newell: Where is your next idea coming from?

This is a column for all you “I want to be a writer” writers out there.

The XXII Olympics officially opened on Friday, February 8th, 2014 in Sochi, Russia.

Thirty years ago the XIV Olympics took place in Sarajevo in what was Yugoslavia and is now Bosnia-Herzegovina, although the region is usually just called Bosnia.  Thirty years later the Olympic village, the ice rink, the bobsled and luge tracks, the ski jump, the other sports facilities and hotels are gone, destroyed during the Bosnian war and the 44-months-long Siege of Sarajevo which killed nearly twelve thousand of the city’s residents.

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Dennis O’Neil: Cold Weather Fans

oneil-art-140206-2992554Went into the living room this morning, looked out the big window and… what do you know? Snow! That was four or five hours ago and it’s still coming down: small flakes, but a lot of them. I guess we should be thankful that this weather wasn’t happening Sunday, because Sunday, as some of you may have heard, was the day of the Big Game, which was played at New Jersey’s Meadowlands, which is a quick drive to New York City (unless Governor Christie’s minions are conducting a traffic study) and New York City is a quick trip to where I’m sitting and so I’m guessing that the snow’s falling on the Meadowlands as it is falling here and if that had happened yesterday it might have interfered with the game. And wouldn’t that have been the worst, most horrific, most devastating, civilization-crumbling event in recorded history?

Oh sure, I guess the Meadowlands has guys who tend to the playing field and maybe they could have made it playable, but still… And imagine being a fan huddling in the stands. No matter how big your thermos full of hot coffee might be, you’d be cold! And being cold might have interfered with your enjoyment of the game and that might have wreaked psychological trauma upon you, leaving you a quivering shell of your former self.

The Broncos lost. That was the team I was rooting for, though not rooting very hard, because although I’ve visited both Seattle and Denver within the last year, I was in Denver most recently – ergo, the Broncs are my guys!

(By the way… Colorado recently legalized recreational marijuana and what happens? Their team gets clobbered in the Super Bowl. So the right wingers must be… er – right. Go ahead, quarrel with logic!)

But something’s wrong here…

Oh, wait, yes. Comic books. This column – hell, this entire website – is supposed to be about comic books. Not football, not Governor Chris Christie, not the lovely snowfall – comic books! So, could a canny blathermeister somehow mix football and comics? Well. I do believe that everything is related, but putting those two topics together in the same column might be a challenge. Comics have never been much about sports. There were a few sports-themed comics in the 40s – All Sports and Babe Ruth Sports, to name two – but not many. And later? The pickings are sparse. DC published six issues of Strange Sports Stories in 1973-1974 that, under the editorship of Julius Schwartz, conflated sports and science fiction. Let’s give it a “nice try.”

So why the de facto segregation? Maybe the stereotype is valid; maybe humans who enjoy reading aren’t often the same humans who enjoy violent contact games. Enormous generalization, sure, but maybe one with a grain of truth buried within it. Or maybe the creative folk never sussed out how to do sports in panel art narrative. Maybe the timing was never right. Maybe maybe maybe…

…I’ll write about something entirely different next week.

FRIDAY: Martha Thomases

SATURDAY: Marc Alan Fishman

SUNDAY: John Ostrander

 

John Ostrander: Upsides & Downsides of Writing

ostrander-art-140102-6226367There are some days that I love being a writer. When the everything is cooking, when the words are flowing, when the characters are speaking to you, when you’re on the top of your game, it’s all magic. That’s not every day. Not by a long shot.

There are the days when you’re staring at the screen and it stares back – and the screen does not blink. You pray and the gods/patron saints (depending on your belief system) do not smile, do not answer, do not share their favor with you. There are days when I have considered offering blood sacrifices to these gods/saints. On those days, the cats hide.

I make my living off of my writing. There are upsides and downsides to that. On the upside, I’m my own boss. On the downside, I frequently hate my boss. He always knows when I’m goofing off and I can hear his voice in the back of my head saying, “Are you making money doing that?” It’s hard to get a day off; there’s no paid holidays, there’s no paid sick days, no paid vacation.

On the upside, I work out of my home. The commute’s a breeze. The only traffic jam is when one or more of the cats gets in front of me as I head towards the office and decides to stroll or flat out lie down right in my path. A semi jack-knifing in front of you is not as likely to stymie your passage as completely as a downed cat. Swearing sometimes clears the path; sometimes it just gets me a blank look.

On the downside, it’s hard to get away from the office. It’s always there and that damned boss keeps on asking “When are you getting back to work?” Yes, I have my own separate office in my home and, yes, I could close the door. I’ve done that. I think there’s a small gravity well at my desk and it keeps sucking me back.

There’s the Freelancer’s Disease. If you’re offered work you tend to say “yes” even if you’re overbooked because you fear if you say “no” the aforementioned gods/patron saints won’t send you any more work. And there’s the corresponding Freelancer’s Nightmare when the work does stop flowing. Will the work ever come again; how will you pay bills, how will you eat if the work doesn’t come back? It’s not a rational fear but it’s a very real one and you can wake up in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning with an attack of it. Been there; felt that.

There’s a corresponding hope that lightning will strike. I was on a plane once and the guy next to me began talking. We were both in our forties. I told him what I did and he told me he was a corporate lawyer. I expressed some envy at him; he had a steady paycheck. He agreed and he said that was the problem: he knew how much he would make this year, and the next year, and pretty much ten years down the line. “You,” he said, “on the other hand, could be hit by lightning.” I could write something, come up with an idea or a concept that could make me millions. It could happen at any time. It hasn’t yet… but it still might.

That’s one of the things that keeps me at it, that and the joy I get when the writing works. I’m also too damn old to work in an office. I can’t see anyone hiring me. I really don’t have any marketable business skills and no résumé.

Nope, for better or worse, for all the upsides and downsides, writing is what I do. I’d better get back to it before the boss yells at me. Again.

The bastard.

MONDAY: Mindy Newell

TUESDAY MORNING: Jen Krueger

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis

 

Tweeks: Complete Alice In Wonderland Confusion

funko-pop-disney-alice-208x300-4651477This week the Tweeks give their sometimes musical and always whimsical take on Dynamite’s Complete Alice in Wonderland hardcover graphic novel by Lewis Carroll, Leah Moore, John Reppion, and Erica Awano.

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“>Tweeks Alice

 

Dennis O’Neil: S.H.I.E.L.D and the Long Game

oneil-art-140130-150x94-2439867So there it was, that kind of news item. We might once have seen something like it – a second cousin? – in the comics fanzines hobbyists published now. I find stuff like it virtually every day in Yahoo’s news section. This particular item speculated that Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., which is, as you must know if you access this particular website, a television series broadcast on Tuesday night on ABC stations, is playing a long game. (Where do I collect my tortured syntax award?)

It is maybe also common knowledge among you aficionados that the program is a disappointment in the ratings. Not doing too well, there on Tuesday night. We can speculate, as some already have, that viewers may feel that they have been prey to the old bait-and-switch gaff, promised one thing and presented with another. The TV honchos make a big deal of the show’s comic book origins, even including the word “Marvel” in the title, and prefacing every episode with the same montage of comic book images that precedes Marvel’s movies. So it’s reasonable to expect the kind of entertainment Marvel is most associated with, superhero stories. (If you’re a Marvel fan who cherishes the memory of Millie the Model, well… bless you!) But instead of superheroes, what do they give us?  An action show. No flying, no awesome feats of strength, no grotesque superfoes, not even the odd cape or mask, Just, you know, fights and guns and car chases and stuff.

Not a bad action show, actually. Decent acting and dialogue, and stunts that seems to me to be a bit better than what’s usually found on the tube. And the plots are often flavored with science fiction, which could partially justify the superhero connection.

But, at the end of the hour… no superheroes. Wonder what’s on the Comedy Channel?

So they’re playing the long game? I interpret “long game” to mean that they’ll take their time, and ours, introducing characters and plot elements that will justify membership in the superhero club.

Comics got there first.

Twice, in my years behind editorial desks, the long game question arose, though we didn’t call it that. In one instance, a previous editor had promised the writer a five-year story. Awkward. I didn’t want to disappoint the writer, a good guy, and I may have been reluctant to make my predecessor a liar. But I doubted that any comic continuity of that era could be stretched so far. That’s the kind of decision editors are paid to make and sometimes the job can be a bitch.

We struck a deal. The long storyline could continue as long as sales remained above a certain number. Lagging circulation got the title cancelled and I was off the hook, and I hope the writer bears no ill memories of the incident.

The second long game was not being played on my turf, exactly, but because I was a big honkin’ group editor I had to notice it. If memory serves (and won’t that be the day?) the scripter planned to reveal certain crucial story elements several years into the run. The book didn’t last that long. Not even close.

The lesson we can take away from all this is that the long game won’t work unless you build an audience. Give ‘em solid reasons to keep coming back, episode after episode. Promising something, even implicitly, and then putting it on indefinite hold is not a good strategy.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON: Tweeks!

FRIDAY MORNING: Martha Thomases

SATURDAY MORNING: Marc Alan Fishman

 

Michael Davis: Steranko – Who Is He, And What Is He To You?

davis-art-140128-150x165-3842199My subtitle is the title of a great Bill Withers song, but an even greater Creative Source song. If you are of the age where you think of Twilight as a classic film, chances are you have never heard of Bill Withers, Creative Source or that song.

Pity.

I could understand not being aware of Creative Source. They were a bit off the beaten path. However any music fan not aware of Bill Withers should drop less Ecstasy and lighten up on the trance. People, Boom, Boom, Boom with an occasional auto corrected voice may be music, but a song it is not.

Whatever age you are, if you are a fan of comics you should have heard of Jim Steranko, or simply Steranko as he is better known.

A comic fan, a true fan of the medium, not aware of Steranko is akin to a history buff thinking Lincoln is only a carmaker.

I’m not about to, nor am I qualified to give a detailed overview of his work. Please, yes I’m saying please, do yourself a big favor and look him up.

As I said, I can’t even begin to cover his contributions to our industry but I will share with you what I hope is a small indication of his importance to an industry he changed forever.

In the mid to late 90s I ran Motown Animation & Filmworks, (MA) Motown is the most famous record company in the world and if you doubt that name three record companies and do so without Goggle.

Oh. I’m sorry. You’re quiet now.

MA was a film and television division of Motown that at the time Motown was owned by Polygram and both were Phillips Companies.

Phillips is a enormous corporation and anything what comes under their umbrella is protected with an army of lawyers that will crush any affront to their intellectual properties (IP), patents, products and the very saying of their name is like a lone Klan member yelling “jungle bunny” at the Black Murderer convention.

On the flip side, if you make any move while within a corporate structure that has even the smell of being problematic you could be bitch slapped.

Bitch slapped like I was when I appeared on a CNN financial news show and answered “Fine” when asked how I thought what I was doing would affect the stock price.

The show was live and after I unclipped my lapel mic – if that long – my cell rung. The booming voice of Clarence Avant, Chairman Of The Board of Motown Records told me to, “Never, ever, comment of the stock price, anywhere, anytime for any reason!”

He was not happy.

And that was just over one word.

That was a serious blunder on my part. I simply didn’t know but ignorance when you head up a key division of a major company is no excuse.

I learned fast that without first running some decisions past Business Affairs I’d run the very real risk of a very bad day.

IP was at he very heart of my core business at Motown and because of such I created a comic book division called Motown Machineworks. One of the titles was a book and character called Stealth.

As soon as the press broke on that book I got a call from a fairly well known artist. I won’t mention his name because what I’m about to say may cause him to pop some shit in my face when next we meet and I don’t need that kind of noise in my life. Hell, I’m already on probation because of the last two people who popped some shit in my face.

This creator said he had a friend who was producing a book called Stealth. I said that was a problem. He agreed. But he said the problem was mine.

I explained to him that MA owned the trademark to that character name and suggested whatever he was smoking he stop. He boldly told me that he would create a P.R. nightmare for me if we did not “Cut the kid a check.”

“So let me get this straight. I pay someone to stop you from causing Motown a public relations problem over a trademark we own.”

Yep, that’s what he meant.

“Fuck you.” I cheerfully said with a pretty good chuckle. “Tell that kid to lawyer up and I’ll make sure he knows you were the one to clue me in.”

C L I C K.

Never heard a word from him on that matter.

Even if I wanted to cave like a little bitch when I had no reason in the world to do so, the amount of time and effort dealing with this would be a needless waste of resources and resources mean money and losing money in corporate America is bad but wasting money on a non issue?

I may have been shot.

What, pry tell, does this have to do with Steranko and his importance to the comics industry? I’ll tell you.

A couple of days later I get a call from Jim Steranko.

What follows is the word for word exchange between Jim and I. This I know because I have journals going back to high school. The time of the entry is 2:20 pm. That means I did not wait to get home to write about it.

 “I’ll get to the point, I created a character called Stealth some time ago and I read recently that you are launching a book about a character with the same name. I’m sure my character predates yours and I call on you as a gentleman to step back from that name.”

“Take it. It’s yours.”

How important is Steranko to comics?

His impact in the field commands and deserves that kind of respect.

He’s that important.

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

THURSDAY MORNING: Dennis O’Neil

THURSDAY AFTERNOON: Tweaks!

 

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