Santa Monica, 1980; uploaded by tomtiddler1.
corporate-sellout.com
If You Can Read This, You Can Read This
corporate-sellout.com
If You Can Read This, You Can Read This
Hi, I'm Thad. I build websites.
This blog's been up in one form or another since 1999. In that time I've written about topics ranging from comic books to video games to copyright law to creators' rights to Frank Zappa.
I also write eBooks and narrate audiobooks. Here's where you can find them:
Major spoilers follow, I guess, albeit mostly stuff everybody's been expecting since roughly the end of the last movie.
So let me get this straight.
Eric Bana travels back in time and kills Kirk's father.
And this causes Ricardo Montalbán to turn into Benedict Cumberbatch?
Did that happen 300 years prior to the era Bana actually traveled to, or did it cause an already cryogenically-frozen Ricardo Montalbán to turn into Benedict Cumberbatch?
Like, was he really surprised when he woke up?
I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the real Khan to be the guy in the pod they had to open up to save Kirk.
I mean, it's not like the plot reasons for Khan's ethnicity and national origin changing are that important. There is a rather strong argument to be made against the Hollywood trend of recasting minority roles with white guys (and no, trolls, casting Laurence Fishburne as Perry White is not "the exact same thing", because you see making a film's cast more diverse is not the exact same thing as making it less diverse), and, moreover, there are some rather regressive overtones in making the ultimate genetic model of a human being a pasty white guy. But as for the plot reasons? You could really handwave all that stuff. Whatever; it's just a movie; they recast the guy. Don't think too hard about it.
Which would be much much easier to do if the last act of the film weren't spent beating you about the head and shoulders with Wrath of Khan references.
After the first couple, I thought, You know, I'm getting way more out of this than people who haven't seen Wrath of Khan recently.
By the end of the film, I thought, You know, they're much happier for not getting all those damn references.
Hell, I was the only person in the theater who laughed out loud when Spock yelled "Khaaaaaaaaaaan!"
Anyway. I'm a casual Trek fan. I've seen a few episodes and movies here and there; I generally enjoy them.
I can definitely see the fans' gripes that the new movies are dumbed-down action flicks -- but what the hell, they've been pretty entertaining, and impeccably cast.
I still love Benedict Cumberbatch. Even if I don't think they should have cast him as a Mexican.
Sweden, 1973. Looks to be the same show as the RDNZL video I posted last November; Frank's put on a coat but everybody else is dressed the same.
Uploaded by Wes Broadway, in three parts:
One morning when I was fourteen years old, my uncle asked me, over Sunday breakfast, if I'd heard of Astro City.
"It's great," he told me. "There's this kid who comes to the big city because he wants to get a job as somebody's sidekick."
"Sounds like something out of The Tick," I said.
"Kind of," he responded, "except that it's played totally straight."
So I picked it up, and Uncle Jon was right -- it was wonderful.
I don't remember if #4 or #5 was my first issue, but in short order I'd bought all the back issues too, including the trade of the original miniseries. I haven't missed an issue in the 16 years since. And most of them have been downright sublime -- while, at worst, some were merely all right.
Astro City has disappeared a few times over the years, usually owing to writer Kurt Busiek's chronic health problems. Yesterday, after a nearly three-year hiatus, it relaunched with a new #1. And it was delightful.
Straight away we're introduced to a new character (though one, Kurt teases, who we've seen before) called the Broken Man. He looks like Bowie in Labyrinth or Dream in Sandman, and he breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader directly as he narrates the rest of the issue.
And what an issue it is. It's new-reader friendly and makes for a great jumping-on point -- but it still manages to pack plenty of nods in for the old fans. Brian Kinney, the kid who came to Astro City in 1996 to become a sidekick? He's in there. And some other familiar faces are too.
It feels like going home. It feels like checking in on old friends you haven't seen in years. And there's only one other comic book that makes me feel like that: Love and Rockets. I think it takes a pretty specific set of variables -- a strong, singular vision by the same creators over a sustained period of time, who are willing to let you feel that passage of time as their characters grow and age, and who are confident enough in their world-building that they can take a break from the same old characters, explore the world, and check back in on the old cast a few years later.
Reading Astro City is like coming home. There's a purity to it, and a joy, and an earnestness. In a time when the superhero genre and superhero fandom are dominated by cynicism, Busiek, Anderson, and Ross aren't afraid to show a world that's bright and full of wonder. And to tell a story that has a complete beginning, middle, and end all in one issue, even if it is Part One of something.
It's not entirely free of irony -- the Broken Man makes a crack about the previous story arc a couple of pages in that made me laugh -- but it's cheerful. It's a book that remembers that superheroes can be both fun and awe-inspiring.
Or not. Because, as much as anything else, it's also a book about ordinary people going about their ordinary lives in an extraordinary world. Regular folks, going to work, living their lives, raising their families.
And that's why Astro City struck a chord. And why it continues to resonate, two decades in. The title aside, it's not really about the city -- though the city is certainly important -- and it's not about superheroes -- though they're pretty important too. It's about people.
And in the new Astro City #1, Kurt Busiek delivers a solid story, with faces new and old, new mysteries, and the prospect of plenty of adventure to come.
As for Brent Anderson, he's really hitting his stride again too. I was a little disappointed with some of his recent work as he began experimenting with digital inking, but in this issue he's back to his crisp old self. His Samaritan, in particular, is a joy to see again, and he handles the rest of the sizable cast with aplomb. Whether he's doing an action scene or just swooping in on an ordinary family, he keeps the action brisk and dynamic. And I'm particularly fond of the new, Kirby-inspired alien character who shows up near the end of the issue.
Ross's cover (I got the "main" one, I guess?) is great as always, but this time it's more remarkable for its composition than for its detail, as 2/3 of it is the dark shape of two doors opening out on the world. It fits the story nicely -- both reflecting the mysterious door as a focal point, and drawing attention to the reader looking in on this world from outside, another key element of the story.
So, by all means, go out and buy the new Astro City #1.
And in the meantime, the original, 1995-vintage Astro City #1 is free on Comixology.
If you want a few more recommendations, my favorites are the first three trades, Life in the Big City, Family Album, and Confession. You can read them in any order (chronology is important for the later ones, namely The Dark Age and Shining Stars, though those appear to be out-of-print at the moment anyway).
And while I urge you to support your local comic shop or independent bookseller, well, if you'd rather do the Amazon thing here are some links that I'll get a kickback on:
- Life in the Big City (original miniseries -- 6 self-contained issues)
- Family Album (ongoing series #1-#3, #10-#13 -- some self-contained issues and short story arcs)
- Confession (ongoing series #4-#9, a single story arc, plus a short story from #1/2)
- Tarnished Angel (#14-#20, another arc)
- Local Heroes (#21-#22, the eponymous 5-issue miniseries, the Supersonic one-shot, Since the Fire 9/11 tribute -- mostly self-contained single-issue stories; I think there's one two-parter in there)
...and from there it looks like kind of a mess, with The Dark Age and Shining Stars apparently out of print for the time being. I'm guessing that'll change soon; maybe I'll update this post when they're easily available again. Meantime, it looks like the individual issues are pretty easy to get ahold of.
Anyhow, all this to say...I love me some Astro City, and the new #1 did not disappoint. I'm glad it's back.
Not much time to write this evening as my wife and I are taking care of our two-year-old nephew. So far we've made it through a Ninja Turtles (2012), a Yo Gabba Gabba (with Weird Al!) and a Batman: The Brave and the Bold.
That's after a trip to the comic shop -- I still haven't finished the comics I bought two weeks ago, but I had to grab the new Astro City.
Nephew made a beeline for the display case with the Batman figures in it. His favorite was the Aragonés one. He's got good taste.
Not actually Frank Zappa compositions here, but what the hell, I'm using the Frank Zappa tag on this post anyway because that's the theme. And they're Frank Zappa-esque, anyway. As you'd probably expect from his sons.
Uploaded by TVmultfilm, who doesn't give a year -- I'd guess somewhere between mid-1990's and early aughts.
One of the most common facts Kirby critics cite -- well, the ones who actually have a basic understanding of the facts of the case, anyway -- is that he sided with Marvel when Joe Simon attempted to recapture the rights to Captain America in 1966.
I'm reading Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, by Sean Howe. It's an excellent book, and recommended.
And I just came across the exact wording of Kirby's statement on the subject. It appears on page 77 of Howe's book, and he cites a post on 20th Century Danny Boy, which has a scan of the statement.
It reads, in part:
I felt that whatever I did for Timely belonged to Timely as was the practice in those days. When I left Timely, all of my work was left with them.
Kirby certainly seems to be suggesting that the work he and Simon did for Timely in the 1940's was work-for-hire and not spec work. As such, that does seem to undercut any later claims he or his family might make that he believed he and Simon created Captain America independently and had a right to terminate the transfer of copyright.
Critics of the Kirby Estate's legal maneuverings over the past few years cite that this shows that Jack knew his work in the 1960's was work-for-hire, too.
But does it?
Because from where I'm sitting, it seems to indicate exactly the opposite.
Kirby says, "I felt that whatever I did for Timely belonged to Timely as was the practice in those days." Why the past tense? If Kirby believed that the work he was doing in the 1960's was work-for-hire, that it was owned by Marvel, and that he had no stake in it -- why would he refer to that arrangement as what "was the practice in those days", decades earlier? Why wouldn't he use the present tense? Why wouldn't he indicate that this was still the practice at the time he was writing that statement, if he believed that to be the case?
Kirby's words in this document clearly imply that he believes the work-for-hire arrangement is a thing of the past, and not a standard agreement at the time he wrote the statement in 1966.
Covered by PiKANTiK, Zappanale Festival, Bad Doberan, Germany, 2006. Uploaded by frontman Matragon.
I just watched the season premiere of The Venture Bros.
Not only was it worth the wait -- now that June is here, I'm glad it was delayed. Because not only was it worth it, now I've got something to watch as all my other shows are wrapping up their seasons.
Venture Bros. is certainly one of the smartest, and may indeed be the best show on television.
Mark my words: the show will have the legacy of a Buffy or an MST3K: a show that seems, deceptively, like it's just a novelty, but when you scratch the surface shows that it is deceptively intelligent and truly unique. A show that, on those strengths, attracts a cult following, and in the years to come gains recognition as a treasure and a high water mark of the medium.
A decade from now there'll be college courses taught on The Venture Bros. Hell, Todd Alcott's analyses are halfway there already.
I can't think of another show that's quite so fearless in constantly evolving and changing its status quo -- and in simultaneously painting its characters in an unflattering light. One or the other, sure -- but both?
Not bad for a show that, at first blush, looked like it was just a cute little Hardy Boys/Jonny Quest spoof.
And which is still that, too -- and does a fucking great job of it.
More of an epilogue than anything. A message to the year 3000.