I recently watched this video by Ya Boi Zack, aka Diversity & Comics, wherein he laments that there was nothing he wanted to buy this week at his local comic book shop. I feel for him, my LCS has become a Star Wars and Funco Pop store with a couple of comics in a box somewhere in the back. Yeah, Bankston's this is YOU, but I forgive you because King's Landing is kitty corner from you and can more than engage me. I never leave without spending money. My geek credentials and bone fides are thus presented. Yes, I'm a girl geek. Bask in my glory.
Last night, my youngest son came over after work to pick up his Beagle and ate dinner with us as his wife was having a girl's night out. He showed me and my husband photos he'd taken of a recent windfall. A friend of his was getting rid of this extensive collection of comic books and gifted my son with an absolute treasure trove of books. Most were not in good shape, but they are nice to have. First Adam Warlock anyone?
My kids only remember getting comic books from comic book shops around our home in Houston and the one real shop here in Waco, the other is a used book store that doesn't even sell them anymore, so I don't count them. Bankston's stood. I still love them even though their ever shrinking comics section is depressing to me.
Zack, real name Richard C Meyer and writer of the fantastic Jawbreakers comic book, is a few years younger than I am. We both remember riding our bikes to stores near our houses and buying comic book off the spinners near the door. When I was a kid and went on car trips with my family, I haunted the spinners at every stop we made, hoping to find a book I'd not yet read, or replace one my sister had shredded when I didn't pay attention to her. Her love for comic books didn't flower until the X-Men cartoon on Fox.
I would babysit. I was popular in our small neighborhood, but I could babysit at the drop of a hat on weeknights, but weekends were booked solid for weeks at a time. I made good money. I would buy me and my sister a coke and candy bar, then I'd begin budgeting my money between comic books and saving for bus tickets to visit my dad. It was weird and didn't occur to me until later in my life that I had to buy my own ticket to see my dad and he'd buy my ticket home... because my mom wouldn't. That message sunk into my unconscious deeply, only to be realized fully when I had my own kids.
Anyway, I digress.
Back then and until about 20 years ago, I never missed a Wednesday at either the 7-11 or the LCS. When I was older and had my own, dependable income, I got a pull list at my LCS so I didn't have to worry about getting a certain book, and could, every now and again, look the old stock to fill in gaps in my collection. I never missed a week until after the Age of Apocalypse with the X-Men and that redoing of the entire Marvel Universe. I hated what they'd done and slowly began striking titles off my list. When I was down to Generation-X, I gave it up entirely. I didn't buy any comic books at all for about 15 years. No lie. I didn't even care.
Here's the thing, I didn't even realize I was doing it until my son asked me about a certain comic book and then something about X-Men that wasn't immediately on recall and I had to look for my boxes of comic books so I could consult the oracle of my encyclopaedic knowledge of when and where things had happened.
Yes, you read that right. I had no idea where I'd stored a collection that had meant more to me than my entire family some days.
My son stood in shock and I told him I couldn't remember the exact issue that such and such had happened but it was around the blah di blah era, with a let me look, then tearing apart closets in search of my books. They were in the special cedar storage closet because my husband was more aware than I when we moved here. I still store them there.
His shock stemmed from the fact that I had a weird memory when it came to the X-Men and Avengers. I could quote issue numbers, happenings and characters like a damned robot. Yet, there I was admitting I'd forgotten. If I could forget comic books, I could easily forget him, was his thought. I assured him I'd forget the dogs before I forgot him. You know, the little lies you tell your kids so they feel good about themselves.
My knowledge of Marvel properties is vast and deep. My knowledge of X-Men and Avengers is obscenely spot on until Age of Apocalypse when I stopped caring because the books had become so bad. When I bothered to look a again, about six years, I noted a major change in the books and it wasn't for the good. I stopped looking at Marvel books altogether. It was at that time that DC was busy bulldozing their universe and dived into pure madness with their New 52 bullshit.
By that time the Marvel Cinematic Universe had gifted us with Iron Man and Thor and I was sold on the movies. They brought back the things I loved about the books. They taught me to like characters I'd always disliked. Ironman, I'm looking at you. Robert Downey, Jr. made me like a Tony Stark I'd never bothered to notice in the books. I tolerated him The Avengers, I rolled my eyes and swallowed my medicine in West Coast Avengers and Force Works, but I never "noticed" him because I didn't like him at all. Same with Hawkeye. Yeah, I felt horrible when his wife died, but I moved on quickly to the next panel. I didn't really care. I had no investment in him or Ironman.
Whereas, I'd always loved Scarlet Witch. Wanda has always been vulnerable, and in my humble opinion, barely hanging on to her sanity. There is something very fragile, yet strong as steel about her. It spoke to me and I liked her. I didn't care much for her brother. I also, and I know this is blasphemous, never, ever liked Black Widow. I just never did. Ever. I did love Jessica Drew as Spider Woman, though. Just loved her.
There are no characters I love anymore with the exception of Rogue and Gambit. Their Mr & Mrs X books are a rarity in Marvel books. They are well written and well executed. I've actually bought the first four on the recommendation of... Ya Boi Zack. He also suggested the Batman vs Elmer Fudd that I bought last year that was such an excellent book that I highly recommended it to everyone who would listen to me.
Zack is right about the loss of product. I saw it before he did because I'm trained to notice when I don't like and avoid it. You would figure that, as a Marine and soldier, he would be, too, but no. Evidently not.
I can well remember being excited every Wednesday and chomping at the bit until the store opened and I could pick up my books and see what else had come in. It's not an exaggeration to say I could have easily spent entire paychecks in one week. There was so much good out there. Now, it's like a barren Carthagenian field that was burned and salted by the Romans. For the comics book industry Carthago delenda est, right? Right.
The worst things about the comics book market dying is that you can easily see they killed themselves. They bought into bullshit, ate it like it was an all you can eat buffet in the middle of a ghetto and lined up for seconds, despite everyone they sold to saying they were not buying it and then didn't. Their stupid, stubborn stupidity, and intransigence dragged them into the gutter with the liars who lied to them and then held them down in the swill their products had become.
Look at Iceman 20 years ago. Look at Sina Grace's version of Gay Bobby constantly hooking up on Grindr. Look at what Kitty did to Colossus at the altar no less, look at what she's become, a shrill harpy that no one would follow anywhere other than out of sheer morbid curiosity. Jean Grey is a shrew and frankly, I'm sad they brought Cyclops back to witness what an utter stupid, hateful bitch she is now. Don't even get me started on Shatterstar running a boarding house.
About 20 years ago, comic books began creating perfect superheroes. If you're already perfect, where do you go from there. Catpan Marvel shows that perfectly. Doubt me? I dare you to watch the entire movie without falling asleep. I dare you! Double dog dare you. Another YouTuber, Just Some Guy, illustrated this perfectly in a video he did last year that I've completely forgotten. He was the first to point out that once you created a "perfect" character or a character you insist others see as perfect, there is no room for growth, no lessons to learn.
Spiderman. I loved Spiderman before I knew he had comic books because I read him in "The Funnies" every day. Peter Parker was Spiderman. He was flawed, he was just like everyone I knew. I could understand his life, because, if he went after this bad guy, then he couldn't get to the store in time to get Aunt May the milk she needed for breakfast. Granted, at that age, I was thinking more in terms of being late getting home and getting in trouble for being out in the barn after dark and walking through the paddocks with no light, but just like Peter Parker, I had to consider the consequences of my actions. Granted, Peter's consequences were much more dire than my stinging behind, but there were consequences. His entire ethos of with great power comes great responsibility resonated with me from the age of six. I recognized it as truth immediately.
I liked Marvel superheroes because most of them were just regular people who could do extraordinary things but who, at the end of the day, wanted the same things most people do. A job, enough money to cover rent and food and have someone to love them for who they were. The things we all want. Unless you're a current comic book "hero" who just wants... social justice, whatever that is.
Last night, my youngest son came over after work to pick up his Beagle and ate dinner with us as his wife was having a girl's night out. He showed me and my husband photos he'd taken of a recent windfall. A friend of his was getting rid of this extensive collection of comic books and gifted my son with an absolute treasure trove of books. Most were not in good shape, but they are nice to have. First Adam Warlock anyone?
My kids only remember getting comic books from comic book shops around our home in Houston and the one real shop here in Waco, the other is a used book store that doesn't even sell them anymore, so I don't count them. Bankston's stood. I still love them even though their ever shrinking comics section is depressing to me.
Zack, real name Richard C Meyer and writer of the fantastic Jawbreakers comic book, is a few years younger than I am. We both remember riding our bikes to stores near our houses and buying comic book off the spinners near the door. When I was a kid and went on car trips with my family, I haunted the spinners at every stop we made, hoping to find a book I'd not yet read, or replace one my sister had shredded when I didn't pay attention to her. Her love for comic books didn't flower until the X-Men cartoon on Fox.
I would babysit. I was popular in our small neighborhood, but I could babysit at the drop of a hat on weeknights, but weekends were booked solid for weeks at a time. I made good money. I would buy me and my sister a coke and candy bar, then I'd begin budgeting my money between comic books and saving for bus tickets to visit my dad. It was weird and didn't occur to me until later in my life that I had to buy my own ticket to see my dad and he'd buy my ticket home... because my mom wouldn't. That message sunk into my unconscious deeply, only to be realized fully when I had my own kids.
Anyway, I digress.
Back then and until about 20 years ago, I never missed a Wednesday at either the 7-11 or the LCS. When I was older and had my own, dependable income, I got a pull list at my LCS so I didn't have to worry about getting a certain book, and could, every now and again, look the old stock to fill in gaps in my collection. I never missed a week until after the Age of Apocalypse with the X-Men and that redoing of the entire Marvel Universe. I hated what they'd done and slowly began striking titles off my list. When I was down to Generation-X, I gave it up entirely. I didn't buy any comic books at all for about 15 years. No lie. I didn't even care.
Here's the thing, I didn't even realize I was doing it until my son asked me about a certain comic book and then something about X-Men that wasn't immediately on recall and I had to look for my boxes of comic books so I could consult the oracle of my encyclopaedic knowledge of when and where things had happened.
Yes, you read that right. I had no idea where I'd stored a collection that had meant more to me than my entire family some days.
My son stood in shock and I told him I couldn't remember the exact issue that such and such had happened but it was around the blah di blah era, with a let me look, then tearing apart closets in search of my books. They were in the special cedar storage closet because my husband was more aware than I when we moved here. I still store them there.
His shock stemmed from the fact that I had a weird memory when it came to the X-Men and Avengers. I could quote issue numbers, happenings and characters like a damned robot. Yet, there I was admitting I'd forgotten. If I could forget comic books, I could easily forget him, was his thought. I assured him I'd forget the dogs before I forgot him. You know, the little lies you tell your kids so they feel good about themselves.
My knowledge of Marvel properties is vast and deep. My knowledge of X-Men and Avengers is obscenely spot on until Age of Apocalypse when I stopped caring because the books had become so bad. When I bothered to look a again, about six years, I noted a major change in the books and it wasn't for the good. I stopped looking at Marvel books altogether. It was at that time that DC was busy bulldozing their universe and dived into pure madness with their New 52 bullshit.
By that time the Marvel Cinematic Universe had gifted us with Iron Man and Thor and I was sold on the movies. They brought back the things I loved about the books. They taught me to like characters I'd always disliked. Ironman, I'm looking at you. Robert Downey, Jr. made me like a Tony Stark I'd never bothered to notice in the books. I tolerated him The Avengers, I rolled my eyes and swallowed my medicine in West Coast Avengers and Force Works, but I never "noticed" him because I didn't like him at all. Same with Hawkeye. Yeah, I felt horrible when his wife died, but I moved on quickly to the next panel. I didn't really care. I had no investment in him or Ironman.
Whereas, I'd always loved Scarlet Witch. Wanda has always been vulnerable, and in my humble opinion, barely hanging on to her sanity. There is something very fragile, yet strong as steel about her. It spoke to me and I liked her. I didn't care much for her brother. I also, and I know this is blasphemous, never, ever liked Black Widow. I just never did. Ever. I did love Jessica Drew as Spider Woman, though. Just loved her.
There are no characters I love anymore with the exception of Rogue and Gambit. Their Mr & Mrs X books are a rarity in Marvel books. They are well written and well executed. I've actually bought the first four on the recommendation of... Ya Boi Zack. He also suggested the Batman vs Elmer Fudd that I bought last year that was such an excellent book that I highly recommended it to everyone who would listen to me.
Zack is right about the loss of product. I saw it before he did because I'm trained to notice when I don't like and avoid it. You would figure that, as a Marine and soldier, he would be, too, but no. Evidently not.
I can well remember being excited every Wednesday and chomping at the bit until the store opened and I could pick up my books and see what else had come in. It's not an exaggeration to say I could have easily spent entire paychecks in one week. There was so much good out there. Now, it's like a barren Carthagenian field that was burned and salted by the Romans. For the comics book industry Carthago delenda est, right? Right.
The worst things about the comics book market dying is that you can easily see they killed themselves. They bought into bullshit, ate it like it was an all you can eat buffet in the middle of a ghetto and lined up for seconds, despite everyone they sold to saying they were not buying it and then didn't. Their stupid, stubborn stupidity, and intransigence dragged them into the gutter with the liars who lied to them and then held them down in the swill their products had become.
Look at Iceman 20 years ago. Look at Sina Grace's version of Gay Bobby constantly hooking up on Grindr. Look at what Kitty did to Colossus at the altar no less, look at what she's become, a shrill harpy that no one would follow anywhere other than out of sheer morbid curiosity. Jean Grey is a shrew and frankly, I'm sad they brought Cyclops back to witness what an utter stupid, hateful bitch she is now. Don't even get me started on Shatterstar running a boarding house.
About 20 years ago, comic books began creating perfect superheroes. If you're already perfect, where do you go from there. Catpan Marvel shows that perfectly. Doubt me? I dare you to watch the entire movie without falling asleep. I dare you! Double dog dare you. Another YouTuber, Just Some Guy, illustrated this perfectly in a video he did last year that I've completely forgotten. He was the first to point out that once you created a "perfect" character or a character you insist others see as perfect, there is no room for growth, no lessons to learn.
Spiderman. I loved Spiderman before I knew he had comic books because I read him in "The Funnies" every day. Peter Parker was Spiderman. He was flawed, he was just like everyone I knew. I could understand his life, because, if he went after this bad guy, then he couldn't get to the store in time to get Aunt May the milk she needed for breakfast. Granted, at that age, I was thinking more in terms of being late getting home and getting in trouble for being out in the barn after dark and walking through the paddocks with no light, but just like Peter Parker, I had to consider the consequences of my actions. Granted, Peter's consequences were much more dire than my stinging behind, but there were consequences. His entire ethos of with great power comes great responsibility resonated with me from the age of six. I recognized it as truth immediately.
I liked Marvel superheroes because most of them were just regular people who could do extraordinary things but who, at the end of the day, wanted the same things most people do. A job, enough money to cover rent and food and have someone to love them for who they were. The things we all want. Unless you're a current comic book "hero" who just wants... social justice, whatever that is.
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