Stark, Industrious

While we’re on the subject of Iron Man (who I never really loved that much before, either, until Warren Ellis started to make him interesting and Adi Granov made Tony Stark look pretty hot), I stumbled across this post from Blackbeltjones, who caught Ellis’ riff on O’Reilly’s Emerging Technology conference in the first issue of the new Iron Man. Mr. Jones uses this as a launching point to talk about his own disappointment about the lack of truly new ideas at the conference — Stark’s gripe in the comic itself — but this idea is the one that grabbed me the most when I read this issue.

Since I haven’t really followed Iron Man before, I’m not sure whether or not this conundrum has shown up before. I always liked the idea, though, that the Marvel universe acknowledges that it has a few giants of scientific invention — Tony Stark, Reed Richards, Henry Pym (sorry, I know there’s a pun in that one) — and it looks like this new Iron Man series is going to grapple with how one of them actually uses that genius. Is it for the good of the military, or himself, or society? And of for society, what kind of benefit do they get? This Iron Man series starts out updating his origin wih a criticism of how Stark built his fortune on munitions with incredible destructive power. Stark insists that all those inventions had other applications, as well, and that he used the money to do ther things, but I think we’re going to see more of the gritty reality of all that. Poor, boozy Stark has always been portrayed as a troubled hero, but I don’t know how much his overall ethics have ever been thrown into the mix before. I may not know Iron man that well, but so far I really dig where this is going.

It seems, though, that it’s going to tell the story of Stark’s conflict about helping the military. I really would love to see a story somewhere that gets into what would happen if Stark or Reed Richards started tossing off inventions that led to great heaping mounds of fun, useless consumer crap. It’s been a longtime staple of the Fantastic Four for Reed to periodically rebuild the Four’s fortune with a slew of patents on ideas he’s had lying around, but we rarely see what they’re for. Clearly the Marvel universe’s Prada isn’t making clothes out of unstable molecules, so where do all these patents go, and what do they change about everyday life? How would Richards’ or Stark’s altruism handle a world full of people knocking over convenience stores to buy futuristic cellphones or sneakers based on their ideas? The military, after all, isn’t the only place where good ideas can go horribly, horribly wrong when you look at the big picture.

Robot Love

I love, love, LOVE Diesel Sweeties and heartily endorse all its related merchandise and think you should read a new installment of it every weekday. It’s always sharp, always funny, always poking fun at goofy things that are near and dear to me, and I like robots, so what’s not to love? Today’s strip is the kind that goes right to my heart — comic-book jokes that lovingly acknowledge what dorks we are! I’m getting moist.

Hipboot Chicks

I don’t have any problem with superheroes wearing outfits that are a little garish or impractical for the real world. In fact, I think I prefer them that way. They jive pretty well with the internal logic of the medium, so I don’t quibble too much about them and just enjoy them for their flair.

But then there are the ladies with the hip boots. Now, if Seven of Nine is willing to defend the use of high heels for a character then I’m willing to let that detail slide, but I don’t get the hip boots. Maybe you have to be a straight guy with some degree of appreciation for female strippers (because the basic appeal isn’t entirely lost on me), but for a crime-fighter it’s still a look that’s less “I’m gonna kick your ass” and more “I’m gonna lick your ass.’

Of course, female superheroes have long been dressed for titillation rather than intimidation, so maybe the thigh boot is just a sensible enough way to protect one’s legs from cold and abrasions when one is already dressed in a thong. I’ve never been in a fight or scaled the side of a building in a bathing suit, so I can only guess. Is it possible that Emma Frost is more sensible than we give her credit for being?

Homo Superiors Rule

If this was done by some comics nerd, than I love it. If it was done as the first part of a viral marketing campaign for the next X-men movie, then I feel so dirty that I need to take a shower immediately.

(Found by faithful correspondent Dave, on the side of a newspaper box in Central Square, Cambridge.)

QuentinUpdate: Duh. I completely forgot about the t-shirts that Quentin and the Omega Gang wore back in New X-Men last year (“Riot at Xavier’s”). So I guess it’s not a loathesome marketing trick after all. Maybe.

Junk Drawer

I’ve been menaing to write more about the many exciting or at least mildly amusing things going on lately, but it’s been hard to gather the will to sit and concentrate on the blogging thing. Here are a bunch of quick links that I’ve been meaning to pepper throughout a series of scintillating posts…

The Junk Drawer

  • Art Chantry, Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 is an incredible restrospective of the work of my all-time favorite designer, now showing at P.S. 1. I can’t rave about this enough. The work is fun enough to look at in reproduction, but he does so much with materials and printing tricks that seeing the stuff in person is about a million times cooler. (And they’re using the same title for the exhibit as I did for a fictional exhibit years ago. but I’m not bitter.)
  • Speaking of P.S. 1, I’d like to point out that it’s not the same place as P.S. 122 in the East Village. You really ought to check out what’s going on at P.S. 122, because they put on tons of great theater and dance and performance and such, and it’s their ticket prices are great for what you get. More on this later, because I’m starting to work on a number of projects with them.
  • And speaking of great stuff at P.S. 122, Heather Woodbury is kicking off their new season in September with her one-woman, eight-installment, 100+-character show, What Ever. You really ought to check out her web site, where you can listen to streaming audio of entire acts of the show, so go and whet your appetite.
  • Flaming Fire were one of the guest acts in the Devo Tribute Show I saw last week. They were pretty exciting, and the lead singer was pretty hot, but you must check out their site to see the progress they’re making on their project to have artists illustrate every single verse of the Bible (1079 illustrations complete; 35586 remaining).
  • The Grand List of Comic Book Cliches is funny because it’s true.
  • Typophile: The Smaller Picture is a project that’s building a typeface via collaborative effort over the internet one pixel at a time. (Thanks, Mike!)
  • Gilles Barbier is the artist of a fantastic, witty sculptural installation called L’Hospice that depicts elderly superheroes loafing around in a nursing home. (Better pictures halfway down this page.)

Fuzzy Elf

And another news brief from the Department of Stupid Ways to Invalidate Stupid Plot Developements in Comic Books:

NightcrawlerNightcrawler never went to the seminary and got ordained as a priest. He only THOUGHT he went to the seminary and got ordained as a priest. It seems as if his mind was being tampered with by some crackpot anti-mutant religious organization. And since it apparently never REALLY came up in conversation ever with anyone, they all just found out and said, “Duh, you were never a priest, blue dude.”

On a similar note, I the only thing I really minded about X2 (which for the most oart I thought was lots of fun, with plenty of nods thrown in to the nerds of us out there who care about whether or not the government is after Franklin Richards) was Nightcrawler. The teleportation effects were great, but the character had nothing of what I always like about Nightcrawler the wiry, wise-cracking swashbuckler with the mischievous smile and furry skin, the one who always seemed curiously sexy. The movie’s nervous, Jesus-freaky version with the goony pants and the brandings instead of the fuzz just left me cold, when not cringing in dismay.

Unimaginable Hunger

I was getting ready to write all about how deeply engossed I became in Manor House this weekend, and what a fascinating experiment it was and how I think public television’s reality shows are in some ways more sinister than their commercial-televison counterparts and how I can’t shake the sound of Kenny the hall boy saying “She’s a right cracking bird” and stuff like that, but then I got completely distracted by this very funny, nerdy spoof: A Blog for Galactus, the devourer of worlds. Hee hee!

I still wanna write more about Manor House, though, and what a fascinating look it was at class relations that never quite existed the same way here in the United States. The closest equivalent we might have, which would be much more controversial television, would be Plantation House.

Top Ten Treats

I’m a sucker for work that slyly works in the pop culture heritage that I’ve absorbed throughout my life. There’s a lot of heavy-handed, ironic name-dropping of old TV shows and such out there, but that shit’s just weak. What I’m talking about is stuff that has its own story to tell, its own point to make, but shows a certain amount of playful reverence for its direct or indirect source material.

Writer Alan Moore has always been a particular favorite of mine for just this reason. When I first read The Watchmen years ago, it was like a boot to the head to encounter this mature look at the culture of superheroes that drew on the conceits of the genre I knew and examined them in a new light. It was critical and thoughtful and even playful, but most of all it showed a deep love of comics and comic-book culture.

Years later, his series Top Ten gave me another wallop. It wasn’t trying to reinvent the medium in quite the same way, but instead it created another world altogether, one based on the idea of a city where generations of costumed crimefighters lived and bred and thrived and crowded the place. It was a fun idea, and a fun story, and I loved it. It was a slower read than most comics, though, because Moore and the series’ co-creator Gene Ha packed every panel with so much detail of life in the city of Neopolis that every scene had to be analyzed. They populated the place with new characters, generic supertypes, and all matter of characters from decades worth of comics, movies, and TV, often recolored or recombined in any manner of subtle in-jokes for the nerd crowd. Bliss.

I loved it, but I’d forgotten about what a fun read it was until I grabbed the second volume yesterday and found myself giggling uncontrollably as I digested the artwork again. Here are a few blown-up details. How many characters can you identify?

Top Ten #1 Top Ten #2
Top Ten #3 Top Ten #4
Top Ten #5 Top Ten #6

Comic Books Fight AIDS

And while we’re on the subject of comics, I was just reading about an event called Comic Books Fight AIDS, being held on Decemeber 1 (World AIDS Day) at St. Luke’s-Roosevelt Hospital here in New York Goddamn City. Sounds nifty. It’s being co-produced by the New York City Comic Book Museum, which despite my nerdy background I never even knew about.

So who wants to go with me? I’m mildly curious to see Judd Winick to see if he can finally shed the taint of the Real World in my mind, but I’m very curious to see a documentary they’re showing called Comic Books and AIDS: What’s the Story?,a half-hour piece highlighting the comic book industry’s response to AIDS, and its usefulness as a tool in education, awareness and prevention.