Why

Every now and then, I ask myself why I’m doing any of this. By “this,” I mean, writing this blog and publishing random thoughts and ramblings when there are countless other things that I could be doing with my time, not the least of which could be sleeping. (Only joking; it’s summer or close enough, which means I’m awake by 5:30 no matter what, now, no matter when I go to sleep. I’m so tired, friends.)

Really, though; there are times when I start typing here and not knowing exactly where I’m going. The thing is, I think that’s the point. I’ve been writing professionally for more than a decade at this point, and writing publicly but unpaid for far, far longer — if we’re counting my student newspaper days, it gets close to three decades, shockingly — and I’ve come to trust in two truths along that time:

  1. I make sense of the world through writing.
  2. Writing is a skill that requires you both to keep your muscles in good shape through practice, but also to play, so that it stays fun and you learn new things to keep yourself engaged.

That’s what I’m doing here: I’m playing — doing this for me, and writing about what I want, no matter how self-indulgent and pointless that will be to others — while also putting things down on virtual paper to try and find out what happening around me and in my head. That other people are reading (I know of three friends who do, although I try not to think of them while writing because this is a space for me, dammit) is something I try to ignore: I don’t want to second guess the rambling, pointless nature of things, I guess.

Welcome to my brain; I’m sorry for the mess.

Yesterday’s New

Thinking about comics again, after more time spent revisiting things I’d never read the first time around. This time, it was Jim Lee’s WildC.A.T.s, a title that was wildly successful back in the day — one that sold hundreds of thousands of copies and convinced a generation of fans that this was as good as comics could be.

I wasn’t one of them; I was just a handful of years too old to be in that target audience, and instead I was left looking on, confused by what everyone was into and why it worked for them and not for me. Those initial Image Comics titles left me cold even as I paid attention to their rise to fame, bypassing DC to become the second biggest publisher in the U.S. despite only putting out a handful of books. This was the future, or so it looked at the time, and I was standing on the sidelines, feeling old and past it even as I wasn’t even out of my teens yet.

Looking back at WildC.A.T.s. now, I’m struck by how straightforward and traditional it all feels, despite the bombastic, stylized artwork that honestly doesn’t really stand up to the test of time. (Some of those costume designs in particular, woof.)

The basic concept of the series’ mythology is familiar enough to be easily understood and manipulated in any number of ways in later issues, and you can see how old-school writers like Alan Moore and Steve Gerber felt like they could step into the space and make it work. What really stuck out was how open-ended it all was: it’s clear that Lee et al were thinking about something that could continue publishing indefinitely, something that feels particularly rare now, when new comics are telling A Story with a beginning, middle, and end, even if those three things happen to be spaced pretty far apart.

Is it too old-fashioned to come up with a concept that can be folded up indefinitely and used in perpetuity, I wonder? Have comic readers en masse become too sophisticated for such a thing, and instead need to know when an end is near? Sometimes, I find myself wanting something old-fashioned and endless in my comics. No wonder I’m looking back in the past so often.

Here’s to Swimmin’

I’d never, until yesterday, realized how utterly ruthless Jaws is when it comes to getting the viewer’s attention in the first place.

I’ve been watching a host of 1970s movies over the last year or so, filling in a decade’s worth of blanks in my cinematic education and finding a long list of new favorites in the process. (Most recently, Klute, which feels impressively contemporary in its approach to sex work in some respects, and shockingly old-fashioned in others.) Filled with a new appreciation for what’s apparently called the New Hollywood era by those in the know — and remembering the season — it felt like a reasonable idea to revisit the movie that arguably ushered in the blockbuster vogue that would dominate the ‘80s, ‘90s, and beyond; a favorite of mine as a kid.

When I was a kid, though, I like Jaws for the idea of it: the exciting threat of John Williams’ theme, the visual of the poster, and the polite remix of the horror monster concept at the heart of the movie. It wasn’t really liking the actual movie at all, which is a shame; it’s such a fun, well-crafted piece of movie-making, and such an odd beast, as well.

As a kid I’d not realized, for example, that the first death comes within five minutes of the movie’s opening, wasting no time to tell the audience, “this is what we’re watching, get in or get going.” All of the movie’s metaphors about how America reacts to terror — the bravado and belief that nothing bad will happen to us — was lost on me entirely; similarly, the quiet exploration of masculinity in the second half, when everything slows down and it’s just Brody, Quint, and Richard Dreyfus’s character (who can ever remember his name?) on the boat together.

Maybe all of this is what makes Jaws so good; that it can make the kid me so excited with nothing but the tease of undersea terror and some great music, and the old man me sees it as something else entirely, and neither of us are wrong. Maybe none of that really matters, and I should just stop overthinking and promise myself that Jaws becomes a July 4th staple just because it’s a good movie for whatever reason.

The Comics of June 2023

Suddenly, it’s July! And that means we get to revisit what comics I’ve been reading in the past month, which is definitely good news for anyone who’s been wondering if I’ve been reading some Green Arrow comics. Or Bill Mantlo-written Cloak and Dagger comics. Or WildCATs, for that matter. (But really, I read all of the Mike Grell Green Arrow run, and then finished the Kevin Smith/Brad Meltzer/Judd Winick run, too. I think I really like Green Arrow now…?) Yes, I read a lot of comics again in June. I’m… sorry, maybe…?

  1. Green Arrow: The Longbow Hunters #s 1-3
  2. Green Arrow (1987) #s 3-8
  3. She-Hulk (2022) #s 1-6
  4. Green Arrow (1987) #s 9-13
  5. Marvel Graphic Novel #18: The Sensational She-Hulk (1985)
  6. 20th Century Men #s 1-2
  7. She-Hulk (2022) #s 7-10
  8. Green Arrow (1987) #s 14-16
  9. Icon vs. Hardware #s 2-3
  10. Micronauts: The New Voyages #1
  11. Dazzler (1980) #s 21-23
  12. Star Trek (1984) #s 18-21
  13. Dazzler (1980) #s 24-34
  14. Marvel Graphic Novel #12: Dazzler the Movie (1984)
  15. Dazzler (1980) #s 35-37
  16. Beauty & the Beast (1984) #s 1-4
  17. Dazzler (1980) #s 38-42
  18. The Defenders (1972) #94
  19. Milk & Cheese: Dairy Products Gone Bad (collected edition)
  20. Alien: The Illustrated Story OGN (Simonson!)
  21. Green Arrow (1987) #s 17-18
  22. The Defenders (1972) #s 95-101
  23. Star Trek (1984) #s 22-25
  24. Micronauts: The New Voyages #s 2-3
  25. The Defenders (1972) #s 102-105
  26. Why Art? OGN (Eleanor Davis)
  27. The Defenders (1972) #s 106-109
  28. Micronauts: The New Voyages #4
  29. Green Arrow (1987) #s 19-20
  30. Spider-Man (2022) #6
  31. Venom (2021) #17
  32. Hallows Eve #1
  33. Murderworld: Moon Knight #1
  34. Murderworld: Game Over #1
  35. Star Wars (2020) #s 31-32
  36. Green Arrow (1987) #s 21-25
  37. Death Bed #s 1-6 (Josh Williamson Vertigo mini)
  38. Frostbite #s 1-6 (Josh Williamson Vertigo mini)
  39. Unfollow #s 1-4
  40. The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye OGN
  41. Green Arrow (1987) #s 26-28
  42. Dark Days: The Forge #1
  43. Dark Days: The Casting #1
  44. Nightwing (2016) #17
  45. DC Pride Through The Years #1
  46. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest #16
  47. Superman (2023) #5
  48. Green Arrow (2023) #3
  49. Titans (2023) #2
  50. Wonder Woman #800
  51. Green Arrow (1987) #s 29-38
  52. Detective Comics #s 1069-1072
  53. Action Comics #s 1054-1056
  54. Green Arrow (1987) #s 39-42
  55. Detective Comics #1073
  56. Green Arrow (1987) #s 43-50
  57. Unstoppable Doom Patrol #4
  58. Star Trek (1984) #s 26-28
  59. The New Teen Titans (1980) #s 1-2
  60. WildC.A.T.s (1992) #s 0, 1-9
  61. WildC.A.T.s Trilogy #s 1-3
  62. WildC.A.T.s Special (1993) #1
  63. WildC.A.T.s (1992) #s 10-13
  64. The New Teen Titans (1980) #3-6
  65. Void Rivals #1
  66. Fantastic Four (2022) #5
  67. Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man (1976) #s 64, 69-70 (First appearances of Cloak & Dagger)
  68. Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man (1976) #s 81-82
  69. Cloak and Dagger (1983) #s 1-4
  70. Marvel Team-Up Annual (1976) #6
  71. Year Zero: Volume Zero #s 1-5
  72. The Flash (1959)  #214
  73. Bob The Galactic Bum #1
  74. Cloak and Dagger (1985) #s 1-3
  75. Marvel Fanfare #19
  76. Cloak and Dagger (1985) #s 4-11
  77. Bob The Galactic Bum #s 2-4
  78. Cloak and Dagger: Predator and Prey OGN 
  79. Strange Tales (1987) #s 1-6 (Cloak and Dagger stories only; end of Mantlo run on C&D)
  80. Cloak and Dagger/Power Pack OGN
  81. Marvel Super-Heroes: Contest of Champions #1
  82. Showcase #100
  83. World’s Finest Comics #300
  84. Knight Terrors: First Blood #1
  85. Knight Terrors: Batman #1
  86. Knight Terrors: Black Adam #1
  87. Knight Terrors: The Joker #1
  88. Knight Terrors: Poison Ivy #1
  89. Knight Terrors: Ravager #1
  90. Knight Terrors: Green Lantern #1
  91. Knight Terrors: Shazam #1
  92. Peacemaker Tries Hard! #3
  93. Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent #5
  94. Judge Dredd: One-Eyed Jacks pt. 4-5 (Megazine serial)
  95. Marvel Team-Up Annual (1976) #1
  96. Adventureman #1
  97. The Bojeffries Saga TPB (Top Shelf edition)
  98. Dredd: Underbelly 
  99. Dredd: Uprise 
  100. Cyberforce (1992) #s 1-3
  101. Green Arrow (1987) #s 51-62
  102. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 100-106
  103. Judge Dredd from 2000 AD March-June 2023 progs 
  104. Smash! (2020 2000 AD spin-off oneshot)
  105. Junkyard Joe #s 1-6
  106. G.I. Joe (1982) #s 107-110
  107. Immoral X-Men #2
  108. Secret Invasion (2022) #s 1-5
  109. Green Arrow (1987) #s 63-68
  110. Nightwing (2016) #105
  111. Green Arrow (1987) #s 69-81
  112. Rogue Trooper: Blighty Valley pt. 1-12 (Ennis Rogue Trooper revival)
  113. X-Force (2019) #s 7-20
  114. The Spirit (2007) #1 
  115. Wolverine (2020) #13
  116. The Spirit (2007) #2
  117. X-Force (2019) #s 21-28
  118. X-Force (2019) #s 29-38
  119. Wolverine (2020) #s 26-32
  120. Knight Terrors #1
  121. Knight Terrors: Zatanna #1
  122. Knight Terrors: Robin #1
  123. Knight Terrors: The Flash #1
  124. World’s Finest: Teen Titans #1
  125. The Spirit (2007) #3
  126. Hulk (2021) #s 9-13
  127. Cyberforce (1992) #s 4
  128. Cyberforce (1993) #s 0, 1-3
  129. The Spirit (2007) #s 4-8
  130. Divinity #s 1-3
  131. Rogue Trooper: Blighty Valley pt. 13 (Final chapter Ennis revival)
  132. What If…? (1989) #54
  133. Divinity #4
  134. The Spirit (2015) #s 1-4
  135. The Book of Death #s 1-4
  136. The Book of Death: Harbinger #1
  137. The Book of Death: X-O Manowar #1
  138. The Spirit (2007) #9
  139. Ultimate Invasion #1
  140. The Incredible Hulk (2023) #1
  141. Green Arrow (2001) #s 11-23
  142. The Spirit (2015) #s 5-12
  143. Vertigo Quarterly: Cyan #1
  144. Vertigo Quarterly: Magenta #1
  145. Vertigo Quarterly: Yellow #1
  146. Vertigo Quarterly: Black #1
  147. Green Arrow (2001) #s 26-32 
  148. The Spirit (2007) #10
  149. Green Arrow (2001) #s 33-46
  150. The Incal: Dying Star OGN
  151. The Spirit (2007) #s 11-12 (End of Darwyn Cooke run)
  152. Prism Stalker: The Weeping Star OGN
  153. Green Lantern/Green Arrow #s 76-77
  154. WildC.A.T.s (1992) #s 15-20
  155. Wildcats (1999) #s 0, 1-10
  156. The Shadow (1987) #5
  157. The Flash (1987) #s 1-15
  158. She-Hulk (2022) #12
  159. Joe Fixit #3
  160. Wasp (2023) #3
  161. Punisher (2022) #10
  162. The Flash (1987) #s 16-24
  163. The Shadow (1987) #1
  164. The Flash (1987) #s 25-29
  165. The Flash Annual (1987) #3
  166. The Flash (1987) #s 30-40
  167. The Flash (1987) #s 41-52
  168. Green Arrow (2001) #s 47-50
  169. The Flash (1987) #s 53-61 (End of William Messner-Loebs run)
  170. Archer & Armstrong (2012) #s 1-5
  171. The Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #s 21-22
  172. The He-Man Effect: How America’s Toymakers Sold You Your Childhood OGN
  173. Archer & Armstrong (2012) #s 6-13, 0
  174. Batman/Superman: World’s Finest #17
  175. Hawkgirl (2023) #1
  176. Archer & Armstrong (2012) #s 14-17
  177. Archer & Armstrong: Archer #0
  178. Bloodshot and the HARD Corps #s 20-21
  179. Archer & Armstrong (2012) #s 18-25
  180. Harley Quinn: Black, White and Redder #1
  181. Tales of the Titans #1
  182. Knight Terrors: Superman #1
  183. Knight Terrors: Punchline #1
  184. Knight Terrors: Wonder Woman #1
  185. Green Arrow (2001) #s 51-55
  186. Green Arrow (2001) #s 56-75
  187. Black Canary (2007) #s 1-4
  188. Green Arrow/Black Canary Wedding Special #1

And Turned Around, Sooner or Later

The other day (as I write this, weeks before you read it), I was having a conversation about the importance of failure — the idea that it’s not only okay to fail at things sometimes, it’s probably necessary on some deep, inexplicable emotional level.

This was treated with no small amount of cynicism by the person I was talking to, and I get it: failure is meant to be a bad thing, and certainly isn’t the goal of any particular enterprise, especially in the early days. Moreover, I can remember surprisingly clearly how strongly I felt about the idea of failing at something when I was younger: how scary it felt, how overwhelming and horrifying the very concept of people seeing me not do the thing I set out to was at the time. How could I face them if they knew how badly I fucked up? I’d ask myself, mortified at even considering the possibility.

Since those days, I’ve failed at a lot of things, professionally and personally. I’ve screwed up, and I’ve been screwed up by others; it’s been difficult and awkward and, sure, utterly embarrassing at times, too; I’ve dealt with a lot of it badly, and with less grace and goodwill than I’d have liked, looking back, in many cases, too, to my regret… but I can’t deny that a bunch of those failures have been for the best, in the long run.

Not in the, “every failure was a step on the path here” way, exactly — but also that, as cliche as it is — but in the sense of, it’s good to learn your limits and find out what you can’t do as well as what you can. It’s worthwhile to step out of the wreckage and go, “Well, I’m never doing that again,” and know exactly why. There’s value in fucking up and learning from your mistakes, even if sometimes the real lesson is that someone else is a real dick.

I’m not sure how much of this translated to the person I was talking to, or how much they realized that (a) they’ve failed at something and that’s fine as long as they accept it, and (b) it’s better to fail and move on than pull everything down around them in an attempt to disguise the failure from themselves and others. I know that the me of even a decade ago might not have been ready to accept that. Nonetheless: sometimes it’s good to give in and admit that you made a trash fire.

The Shots I Don’t Take

I’ve been left thinking lately about the stories I haven’t written for work, and the oddly zen practice of how that has shaped my day-to-day and my career as a whole. I’m not talking about turning down or ignoring so many of the PR emails I receive daily — so, so many, like you wouldn’t believe — but the stories that I actually research and work on that, for whatever reason, don’t end up making it to the finish line. There’s more of those than you’d think.

Part of this is, simply, you go into something researching the truth behind a rumor or something that someone has told you and it turns out not to be true. This is relatively common, honestly, and it’s at once frustrating and enlightening; your story might die, but at least you get to the truth of the matter, you know? There’s something to be said for that, even if you ultimately have to surrender all the work you’ve done up to that point.

(Very very recently, I was looking into something that would have been A Story in a very big way, and I was eagerly trying to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible so I could write it… but it turn out to be nothing, outside of some uninformed gossiping and people believing the worst of others. I was at once relieved and, honestly, upset.)

There are also stories that never see the light of day because of anxious editors or, worse, cautious lawyers; I’ve had that happen on a number of occasions, and that is far more upsetting, especially when it’s of particular importance to people personally. I get that publications don’t want to say that XXXXX XXXXXX is a manipulative asshole who has been accused of emotional abuse by previous partners for legal reasons or whatever, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are, and that people involved want their stories told. Alas.

One day, when I’m old and everyone has forgotten everything else, I should just put all of these unfinished, unpublished stories in a book and share them anyway. I’ll call it, Go Ahead and Sue Me, I’m an Old Journalist and Have No Money, Fuckers.

Up The Ephemeral

This, from Christopher Cantwell’s newsletter, has been on my mind pretty much daily since I first read it:

“In Halt and Catch Fire, at play was always the notion of people in need of connection trying to use technology to bridge the gap. We are living in the ironic end result of it not working. Of course, it also has in a multitude of ways. I’ve met some great friends through technology and established an entire second career. But it feels easier to maintain those connections the old fashioned way now, outside a swarm of wasps and detritus and deafening, meaningless noise.

“None of what the characters in our show did worked. Life has greatly improved in ways that can’t be discounted because of machines, but not socially. Technology has fueled cruelty and eradicated humility and assailed ideas of empirical truth and understanding. It has led many to believe that humans are data to be harvested or deleted, based on whether or not they please us on a whim. It has propped up the ephemeral and turned it into idolatry, it has aided in the denial of and / or the worship of real evil, all in the fearful hope of retaining or gaining even more power.

“It’s a failed experiment.”

Ignoring the fact that this makes me want to go back and rewatch Halt and Catch Fire — a show that I dearly love, and loved more and deeper the more it went on, and the more it became kinder to the very flawed characters at the heart of it — I return over and over to the idea that the internet is a failed experiment, and one that has made us crueler and worse people. The internet is responsible for all manner of good in my life, personally; it’s been where I’ve discovered love both romantic and platonic, and where I found my career, after all. But I can’t deny that, as a whole, this whole thing has been… probably not for the best?

And yet, we’re still here. There’s nowhere else to go, is there? Not really; we can’t all just unplug and step away. Such a thing is literally the stuff of dystopian sci-fi because our imaginations can’t really comprehend the idea that it might actually be for the best. How could it all work without the internet, again, knowing what we know? Would things really be better, or have we just had a shift it will take generations to recover from?

And now this question can live in your head for days after, too.

And It Would Be Alright Now

I’ve shared what I’ve been reading in terms of comics all year so far, but I figured as we’re approaching the midpoint of the year, I’d share my 2023 Spotify playlist. I started it at the very end of 2022, as you’ll be able to see below from the screenshots, but this is the second year I’ve done this: made a playlist that’s either new songs that I’ve not heard before but become obsessed with, or else things that I’ve not listened to in awhile that I felt the urge to dive back into. (More of the former than the latter, so far.)

Consider all of these songs recommended, of course.

The playlist so far goes beyond 50 songs, but that feels like a good place to stop for now. I should add that I try to make sure that no artist appears on the list twice, but I’m fudging the details a little on that here: “Neil MacArthur” is, in fact, Colin Blunstone under a fake name. (For those who don’t know either name, but generally know their pop: Blunstone was the lead vocalist for the Zombies. The Colin Blunstone track here is basically a Zombies reunion a handful of years after Odyssey and Oracle, and it’s glorious.)

Go on; sample some stuff. See if there’s some new (or old) favorites in there.