Category: News

When I came back to ComicMix it was decided that the focus would be on comics and related media. My former column was often politically charged and often had nothing to do with comics. I still write weekly rants about politics and other things that drive me nuts on my website, michaeldavisworld.com, but ComicMix should be about comics!!

Glenn Beck has a problem with Marvel’s decision to create a half-Latino, half-black Spider-Man.

Now, now… I’m not going go on a “Glenn Beck is a racist bastard” tirade. I’m a man of my word and this is about comics!

Glenn Beck has written a few best-selling books. so I was wondering what the new Spider-Man would be like written by Mr. Beck. He is a very successful writer and his views would bring something new to the superhero genre…

Spider-Man: The Rice & Beans War
By Glenn Beck

So far Juan and Manny had no problem driving their rented U-Haul truck in Arizona. It was late and as Juan dozed Manny listened to the sweet sounds of James Brown on the trucks radio. Manny loved R&B. Manny’s father was black, his mother Mexican and had inherited traits from them both.

Juan snoozed on while Manny continued to listen to soul music while at the same time he was enjoying rice and beans. This was a happy time for Manny. Whenever he was in his happy place alone with his thoughts he would play his happy place game.

Where oh where is my daddy?

That was the name of the game Manny would play in his head. Manny’s father had left when Manny was just seven years old. He had chosen seven because that’s the best time for a black father to leave his family. Seven gives the child ample time to grow to love daddy thus assuring the pain on the child is, well… painful. Seven also allow the memory of that fateful day, especially the image of daddy walking out the door one last time to be forever etched in the kid’s brain.

Coincidently, seven is also a great age for mommy to start telling the kid, “Your daddy didn’t want you, that’s why he left!” Or “It’s because of you your daddy didn’t stay with me!” Or my favorite, “He’s not your daddy! Who is? How would I know? I’m a stereotypic Latino single mother and I’ve had dozens of lovers and dozens of children so how the Hell would I know who you daddy is? Now, past me my crack pipe and don’t wake up your new uncle who’s in the bed next to me boy!”

So Manny passed the late night into the early morning playing; where oh where is my daddy?

Then Manny’s world changed.

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The “experts” said it wouldn’t work, but RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES still made big box office. ROPTA Director, Rupert Wyatt, explains how he was challenged with making this APES unlike what had come before. Plus a hot new Image comic gets picked for a movie deal.

The POINT RADIO 24/7 Feed is coming back – 8am THIS Wednesday (Aug 10th). You can listen FREE on any computer or mobile device at The Point Radio – and please check us out on Facebookright here & toss us a “like”.

…Or How The Fuck Did That Happen, Part Two

Where was I last week?

I was in the midst of a great crusade against the most terrifying villain ever unleashed upon the universe. A tyrant created by an evil greater than Mephisto – or Emperor Palpatine or Darkseid, choose your poison – whose sole purpose is to destroy humanity. A crafty, insidious, and totally nasty piece of work, capable of twisting even the greatest brains ever known – Einstein, Newton, Hawkings, Reed Richards – into Roquefort cheese, of destroying REM sleep, of chaining even the raging Incredible Hulk to a chair for weeks.

Oh, yes, it was a battle for the ages. He tried driving me mad with visions of z-scores and ANOVAs and Pearson Correlations and Chi-Square Tests for Goodness. Of blinding me with r_s = 1 – 6∑D²/n(n²-1) and SS_A = ∑T²_ROW/n_ROW – G²/N and t = (M₁ – M₂) – (µ₁ – µ₂)/s(M₁ – M₂) equations and incapacitating my ability to write my column.

Who is this creature from which Doctor Doom hides in the blackest caves of the deepest forests of Latveria? Who is this monster that chases Galactus through the Andromeda galaxy? What is this, this thing, which sends Doomsday scurrying for his Mommy?

He is Statistics.

And though in the end I was bloodied and broken, I triumphed.

So where was I?

I had found some typewriting paper in a drawer. I had pulled my old portable manual out from underneath my bed, where it has been collecting dust bunnies for I-couldn’t-remember-how-long. I had gotten a paper towel and some Windex and had wiped off the keys. I had prayed that the ribbon was still good. I had rolled the paper in. Had set the margins.

And started writing…

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