Better Know Some Avengers! Part 2

Promo Assemble! Art by Gerald Parel

Last time, I discussed the historical comic book origin of The Avengers and how that source material may serve Marvel's "movie universe". With the theatrical release a few months off, it's hard to say what specifically will get borrowed from the 1963 classic, but it'll still have to reconcile with various established film-verse elements that simply weren't around back when Stan Lee and Jack Kirby kicked off the original franchise. How does this all work? This is the story of the other half of the equation...

The biggest difference, of course, is the right-outta-the-box presence of Captain America (whose own 2011 blockbuster was subtitled: "The First Avenger"- coincidence, hmmm?) and the peacekeeping taskforce, SHIELD- most notably Director Nick Fury and operatives Black Widow and Hawkeye. Is there some historical comic book context here, too? Strangely enough, yes. One word answer: reboot.

In fact, there have been two separate instances that the Avengers' beginnings have been recast with a few added twists and turns. And before anybody's head explodes from cries of "This is why I don't read comics!", I will say up front that both cases involve alternate realities that stuck. But hold on-- I'll walk us through slowly, 'kay?

The first scenario was something called Heroes Reborn. Conceptually a pimped-out "lifeboat", it's very much the poetically ironic byproduct of the 1990s industry-wide boom-to-bust cycle. Without launching into too much tangential history: in the throes of financial uncertainty and a rash of subpar publications during the mid-nineties, Marvel outsourced a handful of their titles to then-white hot upstarts of Image Comics, Rob Liefeld and Jim Lee (no relation to Stan). A few years before, Lee, Liefeld and four other top Marvel artists jumped ship and created a huge stir with their new creator-owned enterprise. Now reaping something of the whirlwind they unintentionally created, Marvel appealed to their competitors to "Image-ize" what's essentially the core of the Marvel Universe (Avengers, Fantastic Four) as its own stand-alone thing easily plug-and-play accessible for a then-modern audience. Mission accomplished...sorta.

While generally bolstering the waning popularity of the properties, results of this endeavor were mixed at best; proving wildly controversial amongst the long-term fanbase with many decrying that the iconic characters they grew up with were rendered unrecognizable. Problems further compounded when mid-way through the project, Marvel tried to renegotiate contracts and lost Liefeld in the process. Lee's own Wildstorm art studio was brought in to pinch-hit the remainder of those issues. Fan reaction was slightly more favorable despite perpetuating its own mess along the way (gratuitous and ultra-confusing Issue 13s, I'm looking at you), eventually wrapping with everyone metaphorically waking up from their mass Wizard of Oz coma-fantasy and reinjected back into their old "classic" lives in the mini-series Heroes Return.

So what was the long-term gain from this proverbial dog's breakfast of a venture? Simple- it proved it could be done: total one-stop shopping. While The Avengers traditionally chronicled the collaborative intersection of "Earth's Mightiest Heroes", for the most part, they were still respectively the stars of their own solo series. As such, the "BIG personal stuff" would rarely (if ever) happen in the team-up book. This meant buying more books so as to not be taking off guard when Tony Stark would show up in the latest Avengers issue rocking some new armor or knowing in more intimate detail how Ant-Man suddenly became Giant-Man. The fact notwithstanding that both Iron Man and Captain America retained their own respective Reborn spin-offs, the issue was forced on "How the heck do we get alll these heroes to hit the ground running in lock-step without the benefit of extra pages?" Easiest answer: make 'em a government-sanctioned strikeforce. Know why? It all comes back to a certain super-soldiered maguffin from "Dubya-Dubya Eye-Eye"...

As evident from the framing pieces of last year's Captain America movie, SHIELD's been looking for their Super-Soldier for some time. It would be somewhat naive to think, though, that in the intervening years since "The Big One" that the comic book global superpowers wouldn't be cultivating other super-agents as well- either by design or accident. Besides, nothing cuts through extraneous backstory and personal motivations like being dropped into the middle of an ops briefing with all the players amassed like "toyetic" eye candy. You can always get the skinny on everyone's individual secret origin later. And, so what if the ascribed historical sequence of events gets juxtaposed a little to facilitate this arrangement. I mean, really, what makes for a better opening move than the quest to revive the "o.g." of 'em all, huh?  (Robot Clown, anyone?)

It's been said (probably by current Avengers scribe, Brian Michael Bendis) that the team was like a good band just lacking that "it factor" until it found its "lead singer" (Cap) and that may very well be true. In its earliest incarnation, the title seemed like it was bound and determined to tear itself apart before it even truly got going. Formed out of a misunderstanding with the Incredible Hulk, the following issues centered around the worsening of that relationship as by #3, ol' "jade jaws" was blatantly adversarial with the group; himself forging an uneasy alliance with the amphibious Prince Namor, The Sub-Mariner (Timely's original bad boy anti-hero). 

By the fourth installment, it may as well've retitled itself "The Continuing Saga of Nascent, Somewhat Amorphous Super-Club versus the Two Most Aggro Freaks of Nature Ever" if not for one very distinct difference...

The original. Cover-dated March 1964. Art by Jack Kirby (with George Roussos, inks)

I don't know if there's more to be read into this but Avengers #4 originally hit newsstands shortly after the JFK assassination and right around the time of The Beatles' debut on The Ed Sullivan Show. Coincidence or speaking of something greater in our collective subconscious, I don't know- I wasn't around then. But what I do know is that The Avengers would never be the same again (and certainly for the better).


Now the unit had a focal point and by extension, a formula. From there, quite honestly, it didn't matter what craziness the team ran into from issue to issue-- subterranean lava men, time-traveling warlords, you name it-- Cap's weirded-out yet unswervingly righteous "man out of time" schtick was the audience's orientation. The trick came in keeping it fresh and somehow Stan, Jack and company kept this particular riff going for about a year and a half before changing gears entirely with the title (more on that later).


The time-honored simplicity of this blueprint, though, was again demonstrated when Marvel launched their "Ultimate Universe version" of The Avengers, The, err, Ultimates...

Here we go again for the first time. Art by Bryan Hitch

Cover-dated March, 2002, The Ultimates was the 21st Century reimagining of the team unfettered by their decades of history. In this respect, thematically similar to Heroes Reborn, however the two couldn't be further apart in tone and delivery. Written by Mark Millar and illustrated by Bryan Hitch, Ultimates doesn't dick around or pull punches like a "kiddie book" at all.

Among its lead qualities is its' gritty "real world feel", as it's undeniably the artistic yield of a post-9/11 world. While quickly hitting through all the "classic" beats (SHIELD's discovery and revival of Cap, the untried teams' first field assignment against the gamma-irradiated alter ego of scientist Bruce Banner), the book is heavily tied to the currently-topical while embracing its fantastical elements. I mean, ya can't storm the Middle East without having a good ol' fashioned alien spaceship invasion first, right?

The Ultimates proved to be such a huge success, in fact, that it sent some pretty palpable shockwaves back into the regular mainstream Avengers book. But that is definitely a story for another time...

[To be Continued]

Better Know Some Avengers!

Coming Soon...

Well, the Super Bowl is this weekend and outside of the obligatory bells and whistles that go into "The Big Game" itself, another tradition of the event, of course, has become the orgiastic barrage of advertising that permeates, underscores- and sometimes undercuts- its programming block. This year will undoubtedly be no different. And while I'm really not the biggest sports guy, I'm particularly mindful of this one because a new trailer will be debuting for the eagerly-anticipated film adaptation of The Avengers. In interest of pre-empting the mass blow-up of text message questions I'll be getting in the next few days and months, I figured I'd make this "101 series". So, in some paraphrase mash-up of Stan "The Man" Lee and Stephen Colbert: "Face front, true believers-- 'cuz you Better Know Some Avengers"...

If you've seen any of Marvel Studios' previous releases, you can get a general gist of where this is all going as those movies- as much franchises unto themselves- ultimately all serve on another level as preamble to what's coming next. From a logistical standpoint, it's an unprecedented move having all these hitherto self-contained Hollywood icons share equal billing as co-stars in something greater than the sum of its parts. In keeping with the historical lore and ethos of the Avengers comic book, though, this feat is nothing short of utter wish fulfillment nerdgasm of the highest order!

Art by Jack Kirby (with Dick Ayers- inks)

Cover-dated September, 1963, the first issue of Marvel Comics' The Avengers saw the banding together of disparate characters from various established solo series as "Earth's Mightiest Heroes" (as they would subsequently be so modestly tagged); fighting the foes no single hero could take alone. While from today's perspective, the notion of cherry-picking a "best of the best" combat unit might sound pretty frikkin' sweet, there really wasn't as much material to work with back in the day. As a result, writer/editor Stan Lee and artist/co-genius Jack Kirby's "Version 1.0"- while very powerful- comes off a little "misfit weirdo remainder bin". However, if the constituency seemed a little wonky on paper, they did have some very effective branding with the most bad-ass moniker around, easily giving them a leg up against the more recognizable heavyweights over at DC Comics, The Justice League of America.

As strategically contrived as it may seem, it is very much this overt spirit of jockeying for market placement that saw The Avengers come about. Five years prior, DC had begun successfully revitalizing and updating a number of heroes from their "Golden Age" (World War II-era) heyday, ushering in renewed interest in the "superhero genre". By 1960, they had built themselves a nice stable of titles and began showcasing the meet-ups of their most popular characters as the aforementioned League.  

Charged with chasing this particular trend by his uncle/publisher, Martin Goodman, Stan (along with Kirby) instead scored an offbeat hit with 1961's The Fantastic Four. This new offering was born more out of a last-ditch "Hail Mary" of creative whimsy than a direct response to the challenge, as Atlas (Marvel's 1950s incarnation) was still heavily steeped in one-and-done sci-fi/monster and romance comics, having long-since mothballed their own circa-WWII Timely "mystery men" properties. While there is more than a passing wink and nod to the greater pedigree of the art form in those initial FF issues, Stan's greatest, most sustaining achievement would be the attitude that he imbued into these new creations: heroes with feet of clay- a modernized spin on Greek tragedy wherein the superhuman is in some way made more vulnerable as a consequence of their new ability. One doesn't really need to look any further than the monstrously-transformed FF member, The Thing or the Amazing Spider-Man as prime early examples of this mindset. The next step was really just to wash, rinse, world-build and repeat ad infinitum.

For the next few years, the ideas just proliferated in this vein. Ostensibly, the body of this inaugural "class" would become the nucleus of Lee's new "supergroup"- yet none of them had quite the same marquee draw that other more-established "solo title" heroes brought to their respective "team" books. Hell, even in their own evolving House of Ideas, the closest thing they had was The Amazing Spider-Man; though either by virtue of Spidey's on-panel multiple chainsaw juggle of a life or co-creator Steve Ditko's implied desire to not share all the toys in the new toy box, it was readily evident the wall-crawler couldn't play well with others. From there, essentially, it shakes out to be less about "the best of the best" and more about "You go to war with the army you have"...

It's right about there that the original comic book series separates from what will no doubt become the "Movie Origin of the Avenger Initiative's 1st Field Mission", although many of the core tenets will assuredly remain intact. In the traditional story, Loki (yep, that Loki. Norse God of Mischief- y'know, from the Thor movie) attempts to use the Incredible Hulk as a pawn in a revenge scheme against his hated adopted brother, the ubiquitous God of Thunder (and Rock and Roll). As Loki tries to leak word and bait Thor, he accidentally draws the attention of additional heroes: Tony Stark, the Invincible Iron Man (apparently before the turned-to-steel-in-a-great-magnetic-field incident you hear so much about) and the insect-themed duo of Dr, Henry Pym (the Astonishing Ant-Man) and Janet Van Dyne (the Winsome Wasp), whose appearance in the movie, of this writing, remains a point of speculation and easter-eggery. 

Once all the "lone gun" heroes converge and momentarily beat their chests about how they work alone (except the Wasp, who takes this as a chance to super-speed date!), they get down to the wacky business of pursuing the Hulk, who has pulled it together enough to disguise himself as a-- I shit you not-- robot clown in a nearby traveling circus until the heat dies down on his Loki-induced public catastrophe.

ooohh-- I  sure hope they work this into the movie somehow...

Another classic misunderstanding-amongst-heroes dust-up ensues until they collectively smoke out the real culprit. Before parting ways, their smallest members suggest that they should regularly meet up as a thing-- and even spring that killer name off! And that was how it was for all of two issues...

Sounds pretty weird, huh? It may come off a bit hokey by today's standards, but the stories-  outside of their sheer historic value- are not without their own innate awesomeness. I couldn't even begin to think where we our modern mythology would be without the output of Marvel's Silver Age Bullpen. And for those uninitiated, I recommend any of this stuff (but put on your Ed Wood googles 'cuz the less said about the three-toed/eight-toed Hulk variance the better, shhh).

Move over Mr.T, Hulk in on pitying racket since '63!

By the same token, though, you may be saying: "Where's Cap? When does the whole SHIELD para-military angle come into play?" Hold on, I'm getting there...

[To Be Continued]

Frank Miller's Holy What The @#*% Was That?!

It must be hard to be an industry giant- any industry. No matter what the outlet, there is something to be said about meeting the axiom "you're only as good as the last thing you've done" at least somewhat half-way. It's just the price for putting yourself out there, for anyone really, I guess- apply it as you will. 

As a creative entity, though, you do owe it to yourself to constantly strive for that "next level" as you hone your particular craft in the here-and-now-- comfort zones should equal death. However, I suppose, once you've been successfully at your "thing" for a few decades, it seems easy to get painted into a corner of idiomatic schtick whether you like it or not. Sure, latter-day "experimental forays" are met with mixed results at best but pretty soon you probably need to resign yourself to being this self-parodying "Hollywood Squares" version of your former self. Sorry, but it's really the best case scenario for us all. Then there's graphic novelist/film director Frank Miller-- whose latest offering, Holy Terror, would have us believe that as he draws ever nearer to the age of senior citizen entitlements, he is going swinging full-on early bird into the batshit crazy buffet!

For a man who has given so much to inform the language, landscape and sensibilities of modern comics for a generation (plus)-- myself largely included in those that have been impacted by his awesomeness, I do not take to this smack-talking lightly. If this was merely a creative misfire that didn't quite connect, it could easily be shrugged off, forgiven and thrown into the "oh well, can't win 'em all" pile forevermore (a la his solo directorial debut, The Spirit, where Miller's newly-adopted fedora affectation was clearly in the creative driver's seat).

Contemplating chinstrap for hat?

If only that were the case here. If. Only...

Instead, what we are "treated" to is a tome wholly devoid of any kind of socially redeeming art or provocation value. Initially hyped for years as a "Batman vs. Al-Qaeda" story, Miller's underlying goal all the same was to not so much to tell a typical "beginning-middle-end"-style tale with a familiar protagonist set against a topical foe but to intentionally manufacture a piece of jingoistic propaganda guaranteed to universally revile. At some point, he and Batman's handlers at DC Comics parted ways on the project and the book ultimately became the debut release from Legendary. Choosing to start out on the foot of controversy with a "comic book Salman Rushdie" could be a curious choice for a publisher- maybe not so much when you're just the new arm of a splashy Hollywood production company though, huh?

It's not the actual displays of Miller's calculated crassness that offend so deeply or even his grotesquely hateful racism towards all Muslims (which come off as more as personally shameful for the author and kinda make you fell sorry for him) that evoke the true feelings of "bad taste" as it is the outright conception and execution of this travesty. Apparently, he would have us believe that this epic, while in many respects the comic book equivalent of a Faces of Death movie, also (literally) attempts to embrace the overtures of Captain America socking Hitler across the jaw in the classic cover from 1940. Just more viscerally jumped-up for our ADHD'd-out go-go modern lifestyle. Wait- didn't we already have that when South Park's Eric Cartman went Looney Tunes on Osama bin Laden? Either way, not really sure how we should extend... gratitude for such a.. um, truly unique 9/11 ten-year anniversary "memento" (that nobody particularly wanted or asked for). And without leading to too much sidebar discussion, what strange times these are when Trey Parker and Matt Stone could effectively lead seminars on where "the line" is...

Grumpy Old Men-- this time it's personal...

And above all else, whatever you do-- please, PLEASE! don't call Holy Terror a Batman story. Get "The Bat" out of your mind. Sadly, though, the only one who didn't get clued to this revisionist memory wipery would be ol' Frankie himself. While by right, Batman is the copyrighted property of a corporation and created by Bob Kane in 1939, Frank Miller's take on the character has all but become the definitive version in the eyes of modern pop culture over the past 25 years. It's very hard to separate the two. Personally, I even have a hard time watching the recent Christopher Nolan movies without thinking about blocky, grizzled Old Bruce in that anachronistic grey/blue spacesuit putting a jagged spiked bat-boot to the face of Old Superman. Instantly I'm brought back to being 13 years old, reading The Dark Knight Returns! And that's just me- casual Batman fan- I can only imagine of the associations that go on in the mind of the guy who made those experiences possible.

This does beckon some larger questions, though. If all Miller really wanted to do was tell a Batman story, why not just tell a damn Batman story already? (Although given how badly DKR's actual sequel, The Dark Knight Strikes Again, was critically received, maybe it's just as well.) And, if it's not a "Batman story" what the hell is it, then? In that respect, HT dies on its own merits because it wants to play like the bastardized excerpts of his seminal dystopian bat-epic the entire time! There is a severe lack of originality in any of the story elements. His "hero", while not direct-to-type with noble Bruce Wayne, harkens in disposition instead to another of Miller's own former creations: the psychopathically uber-patriotic thug Nuke from Marvel Comics' acclaimed 1986 Daredevil storyline, "Born Again"- proving that what could potentially have been a showcase for some originality in itself still becomes an exercise in wanton regurgitation.

Art-wise, it's a pretty phoned-in affair as well. If you're at least passingly familiar with any of Miller's previous work within the past three-plus decades, there is sadly nothing new to be found in the layouts . The signature style is certainly still there- all the stark, monolithic figures and minimalist juxtaposition of gutter-punk and avant garde- but it's just a pale shade of former glories, commanding none of the gravity it normally should. In terms of trying to evoke the "old tones", weather and lighting are very much foreground elements. It's enough to make one reminisce of tales from FM's Sin City yet not enough to transport in that same manner to an equally seedy noir-tropolis. Instead, the rain  comes off as some half-assedly amateurish attempt to ape Jackson Pollack with the larger notion of "background as character" screaming "knock-off" quite loudly all the while.  As most of the 2000s have seen Miller involved in film, it's been some time since he's done comics. It would've been nice if maybe his craft evidenced some new turn. I'm sorry, a two page spread of nothing but diminishing blank white squares? You hipped me to it back in the day- but now? Ho. Hum.

Statue of Blind Lady Justice-Liberty's cornrows: bleeding edge or passe?

So, if there's wasn't an audience clamoring for the work and the creator himself isn't bringing any new tricks to the table- what was the point? Just so we can all have the pleasure at being offended by this "art" that absolutely, positively needed to be birthed into the world- no matter how intentionally ugly?! I'm sorry, but Holy Terror is indeed something else entirely functioning outside the umbrella of "art for art's sake". It actually plays closer to the foil-helmeted doomsaying of those fringe characters that hang out by the highway off-ramps. They have signs and draw pretty pictures on them too sometimes, y'know. Frank's just happens to be more elaborate than most, I suppose.

Speaking of Frank's friends in the "outdoor set", the flak heaped on him over this one-man anti-jihadist jihad bad-joke manifesto would only probably be half as bad if it didn't come so two-fisted with the now-infamous post on his blog regarding the Occupy movement. While his right to voice his opinion against the protests is as valid as theirs, one may also look into his motivations with the same mark of cynicism that he himself extols in the tirade. Capitalizing on a coincidence that no one could've ever really planned, Miller's own counterpoint comments- while not overtly screaming "Buy my new book, Holy Terror, out now from Legendary Books..."-  do openly lend themselves quite readily to a certain opportunistic huckstering one may find on an extended press junket. Just like when somebody has a new product to shill.  Hmmm. Conspiracy, anyone?

Oh hey, I remember you- that blog I started... (aka my year in review)

Holy shit! Been a while, huh? To say that I launched into this endeavor with the best of intentions to hit them keys multiple times a week-- at the very least churn something out twice, three times a month, perhaps-- yeah, I kinda underperformed there. I admit it, guilty as charged. However, with 2011 in the can within a matter of hours, I can find no more suitable time to get back out there in blogland.

So, what the hell happened? It wasn't lack of material, that's for sure. There's some music-related stuff that I was mentally constructing but never got a chance to pull the trigger on and fully hammer out on the computer. Thinking on it now though, some of it's a little more dated to where my head was at that time. Suffice to say, Hot Sauce Committee, Part Two was a huge part of my summer soundtrack. As a member of their original fanbase, it may definitely speak to my age that a new Beastie Boys release is among the things I'd hold as 2011's musical highlights. It may also speak to the fact that I surprisingly don't get out as much or as often as I'd like or used to, but I'm finding that I could really give a fuck considering how disjointed the state of music really is right now. But clearly, a topic for another time altogether...

I also had a 2-part dissertation on Metallica that I was all hot-and-heavy on all mentally mapped out- really wanted to get that one fired on out there prior to their release of the album with Lou Reed. Now that that thing's out there though, quite honestly, I don't really want to touch it. And I did a fair amount of actual critical research into this Metallica thing (Kate did a fair amount of critical eyerolling as said "research" transpired). Who knows, it may still happen one day- just maybe gotta adjust the goalpost some...


Also got a great "viewer mail" submission for a piece: the 20 year anniversary of Nevermind. Still valid, as we are now a firm 2 decades removed from the heyday of the whole "Seattle grunge movement". The passing of classic rock's batton is indeed talkin' 'bout my generation (and I ain't gonna take that smack lightly, y'know!). To wit, 2011: The Year Kim and Thurston Broke Up. Sadly, we're now all too old to decide who goes with Mom and who goes with Dad in the divorce, though...


What's the John Lennon quote? "Life's what happens while you're busy making other plans"- something to that effect. Yeah, this past year would be a great example of that. Without going too in depth on a lot of specifics, personally this was a year of sacrifice and loss, lessons learned and ultimately being so damn grateful for all I do have. As the shit was hitting the proverbial fan around me, it just didn't seem right to flap my cyber-talking head. 

I had two friends die on me this year. Completely unrelated and geographically-removed from one another, they'd never even met, in fact- just... coincidental because prior to this year, I've never had anyone die on me. I mean, yeah- sure, I've had older family members-- folks who lived long, full lives-- pass on. Certainly, I've even known people whom I went to high school with -- casual acquaintances-- that are no longer here-- and that sucks, but never truly somebody I could say "yeah, they're in my crew". I'm sorry if it sounds so damn narcissistic: "they" died on "me"- I don't mean for it to be about me at all. It's just not. Like I said, though, going 37 years and never having to endure being at a party of good friends and saying "man, I wish that guy was here" and knowing that there is no way that will ever happen ever, ever again... it's just a new painful mechanism for me to deal with. Rest in peace, guys- our worlds are all that much dimmer without either of you...


Focusing on the "plus column" (which, should really just be my 2012 mantra), the tribulations of 2011 made me appreciate the living shit out of my family that much more. I'm going to take this moment to shamelessly sing Kate's praises- not only in putting up with me for 10+ years now, but in to-date successfully growing our family business (sewpo.com) and being the best damn mom on Earth. Check out her blog, even.  **Now ends Gratutious Spousal Cross-Promotional quasi-adspace...**

We also got to see our kids rock the living shit outta live instruments this past summer at Ethos Music band camp-- that was pretty cool (and they made mugs!). Kinda weird though being a full-on audience member and not part band member/ on-stage coach/ conductor for once- that was a new one for me but very, very gratifying in its own way. The future of music will be in good hands and/or the Lehn family is gonna do just fine in the inevitable post-apocalypse-- 'cuz Vaudeville's gonna come back in a big way...


Having the store's also turned me on to something else, so I guess 2011 can successfully get clocked in as the year that gave me (some much needed and long overdue) career direction in that I am now once again enrolled in school. Without making it sound any more like a further iteration of the Police Academy than it already does sometimes in my own mind, I am now pursuing a degree in web design and development at Portland Community College. I suppose I can allow myself to count amongst my 2011 blessings a consistent rocking of the 4.0 g.p.a. since re-applying myself to scholarly pursuits (in the name of better business), though...


I'm very much looking forward to 2012. I'm excited for the future. I seem to always do better in the even number years- don't know what that's all about. Some sorta weird psychological disposition based on... ? I dunno- I was born in an even year, Kate's an even year, all 3 boys are even years. I am hereby committing and recommitting myself to making 2012 the best damn year I possibly can. That means more blog love. That means buying a fresh whole pineapple and eating it before it over-ripens. That means being the best damn dad and husband I can be. Following this momentum train, don't even get me started as to what 2012 could mean for me as a bass player. Plus, Joss Whedon's Avengers movie comes out this coming May as well as Marvel's own AvX event, the two-fist of which is already its own indescribable internet-boner nerdgasm of awesome for me. I very much look forward to this future of which you speak.


soooo... 2012. Soothsayers: Start your prophecies!



 

Top 5 American Bands

It's 4th of July of weekend, which means it's time to fire up the ol' bar-b-que, relax with some friends and watch some (hopefully) controlled explosions. In all this, you certainly can't forget the tunes. Nothing makes a good time like its soundtrack but how patriotic are our listening tastes when it comes to pulling from the collective pool of "popular" music in this day and age?

Before anybody feels like they're being called on the carpet here, I'm just as guilty of it as anyone. I mean, I was born and raised in the classic rock nirvana of suburban Long Island. Holiday weekends are all about a near-religious non-stop cranking of Led Zeppelin, AC/DC and Pink Floyd staples, right? Yeah, well, for as influential as these "big guns" may be in the rock pantheon, they're all imports to these here shores. The question I'm putting forth is: Once we've dumped the Beatles and Stones in the harbor in the name of holiday festivity, who are our homegrown heavyweights?

This probably could've been a proper Top 10 list, but my selections proved to be tougher (and more unexpected) than I originally thought. Plus, then I'd probably be here 'til Labor Day...
  

1. The Ramones: Mega-infectious early 50s-style three chord ditties served up at twice the speed with somewhat (mentally) unbalanced lyrical content, in many respects the "Forest Hills Fawr" ("one-too-tree-fawr"?) are our American Beatles. Aside from some of the direct, overt homages they took from the Liverpudlians' own early days (the Hamburg leather jacket gang look, McCartney actually toying with the stage-name Paul Ramone), Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy's own actual musical effect was literally a reversal of the original British Invasion. Having already made quite a name for themselves around New York City's club scene, particularly being marquee players at the then-burgeoning CBGB, they hopped the pond to promote their debut album in the bicentennial Summer of '76. Their historic July 4th show was witnessed by none other than soon-to-be notable London scenesters such as Malcom McLaren, John Lydon, Joe Strummer and Mick Jones, among others who may have been somewhat influenced by what they saw. Results may be back from the lab soon, I dunno...
2.   Kiss: Love 'em or hate 'em, you would be hard-pressed to find another band that genuinely personifies all that is gloriously, crassly American! The story of an immigrant boy who dresses himself up like a firebreathing clown and makes bank singing Beatle songs though a Zeppelin filter. Yessir, it's quite near impossible to ignore their fist-pumping staying power, even as the Kabuki Quartet has made themselves pretty transparent in creating veritable economic institution out of sleeping with yr sister, yr girlfriend and yr mom and all the while selling you back the t-shirt...
3.  Velvet Underground: Our own early-run anti-Beatles? If the Fab Four on the Ed Sullivan Show inspired god knows how many future musicians to commit to the fun and frivolity of the rock n roll lifestyle, then what evolved out of this art project mash-up experiment certainly became a focal point for every disenfranchised youth who didn't necessarily cotton to squeaky-clean mop-top rompery yet still felt compelled to climb on a stage and evoke something darker and more primal. There are probably 50 billion American bands that can and will be argued deserving of a Top 5 slot in their own right, but really, they're all just gonna have to take a back seat to Lou and the VU-- whether they consciously know it or not...
4. Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention: Perhaps not only one of the greatest American composers of the 20th Century, for over 20 years, Frank was able to host a huge ever-changing ensemble that was basically like getting yr phD in shred-- and he was able to do all of this without a great deal of major label support, d.i.y.'ing it every step of the way! I firmly believe that if he was alive and that if the current throes of the music industry was also to be his heyday, he'd actually be some sorta shining beacon to thriving in these digitally-uncertain times. Musically and lyrically (once you get past the dual potty humor AND hoity-toity avant leanings), there is great social commentary (and balls-out jamming) to be had. This being said considering that the body of Frank 's work runs from the late 60s into the late 80s and that he constantly shines the mirror down on both "establishment" and "anti-establishment" alike. It also helps that this kinda manifested itself in real life when Frank testified in front of a Senate sub-committee during the infamous PMRC hearings of 1985.
5. Jimi Hendrix/ Band of Gypsys: Not "The Experience". Not the "Gypsy Suns and Rainbows" big band from Woodstock. By virtue of English drummer Mitch Mitchell being such a lynchpin player in those incarnations, they're disqualified. And I really love Mitch, so... sorry, really. But Band of Gypsys? Despite only being together for just the two-night stand at the Fillmore East, New Year's Eve/Day '69/'70 and a handful of subsequent studio sessions that attempted to enshrine that initial magic, the legacy of the two-headed hydra of Jimi Hendrix and funk singer/drum-monster Buddy Miles really only needs to rely on two simple words: Power. Trio. Rounded out by Jimi's old Army buddy, Billy Cox (also from the Woodstock gig and, essentially, nothing short of being another pair of Hendrix's own arms on bass), they positively crushed grooves in a way the Experience never could! It can also be speculated that the direction this group ideally would've blazed would have eventually worked Miles Davis into the fold-- which truly would've been the greatest unturned corner in American music. Ah, what could've been...

 Anyway, that's my five. I'm gonna go watch some fireworks now. Enjoy!

Did Whatever A Spider Could (maybe just a bit differently)...

Update: Yeah, there was no way I was getting this off before a self-imposed deadline of midnight yesterday. I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

It's funny-- the other day when I finally decided to go through with this blog thing, I (obviously) began thinking of very basic "ground floor" subject matter. The "big toe in the water" approach felt right, especially suggesting the overarching long-form juxtaposition of two ginormous subjects as music and comics. The search for the ideal candidate dialed into exactly one upon having just completed Ultimate Spider-Man, Ultimate Collection Book 1. This is not without its great irony as I am writing this not only on the very day Marvel has released the comic containing the titular character's undoubtedly less-than-friendly-neighborhood death, but having never followed the monthly exploits of "Ultimate Spidey" in his decade-plus existence at all.

For those of you whose heads have not exploded after that last bombshell, allow me to lay some groundwork. USM was the flagship book Marvel Comics' "Ultimate Universe"-- an updated plug & play-friendly re-imagining of all the old familiar properties. Debuting back in late 2000 as the brainchild of top brass, editorial and some upcoming "outsider" talent, this new endeavor wasn't intended to usurp or supersede the incumbent Stan & Jack House of Ideas MU (the "616"- continuity nerds or rappers?), it was merely meant to co-exist next to it as a loving homage wholly re-birthed into the 21st Century. Regardless, I recall superficially dismissing early hype and promotion as a mere marketing contrivance meant to hook the "kiddie" demographic. However, as much as some calculated re-galvanization of the then-flailing Spider-brand was needed, these weren't going to be stories that "counted" as such. On one level, I applauded the pro-activeness of the effort but as a fan already well-invested & versed in the regular, why would I opt in? And quite honestly, the whole "Ultimate" tagline smacked of bad surfer "hang loose" cliches, left to free-associate in my mind. Imagine my surprise when it became an instant hit with both critics and fans, going on to become one of the top comics (if not comic moments) of the decade!


USM was written by Brian Michael Bendis and originally drawn by industry vet Mark Bagley. While the Bagley partnership itself endured a record-setting 111 issues (beating Lee/Kirby's inaugural 102-issue run on Fantastic Four), Bendis helmed the title until today's fateful issue 160. Still knowing nothing of the series other than to file this information away, I'm finding it easy to engage this collection of stories from that heady first year with fresh perspective and by its own merits. No, what I actually found popping up in the rearview on me more was the Sam Raimi films-- apparently more based on the story here than in the original 1962 source material than I'd ever imagined!

Let me back the history lesson up one more magnification for the edification of anybody who's made it this far but hasn't seen any of the aforementioned Fox Spider-Man movies (the 1st two really, less said about Peter's evil "Hitler haircut" jazz number the better) or if you generally live in some sort of lead-lined impenetrable pop-culture bubble: Spider-Man is the story of an awkward & bookish orphan teenager, Peter Parker, who attends a science experiment wherein he's bitten by a radioactive spider. Peter, who does actually live with his eternally-elderly aunt & uncle, discovers that he's been given strange new powers & instead of honoring his family's credo of "With great power, comes great responsibility", uses these new gifts to seek fame and fortune. Basically anonymous nerd revenge writ large. And it actually works for him-- for about two seconds. Apathetic to thwart a robbery in progress while making a public appearance, Spidey's world changes forever when that self same dirtbag later on winds up killing his Uncle Ben. Spidey vows to help people & feel responsible for well, just about everything forever since despite being hated by many. Old man really knew how to make a point, huh?


This iconic modern morality tale was basically an eleven-page spitball by Stan Lee and artist Steve Ditko, appearing within last issue of Amazing Fantasy (#15, cover dated Aug. '62). While Stan was clearly and consciously going for something different and nothing to lose with his latest creation, I don't think he realized precisely how much lightning was in the proverbial bottle. He simply wasn't afforded the luxury of hindsight (obviously) but in the very nature of the origin story's unfolding and in fact, the subsequent follow-up, Amazing Spider-Man shortly thereafter, there is a visceral quality very unlike the earthier, more tangible work he was putting forth concurrently with Jack Kirby. It's more pensive melodrama than something you could touch. Ditko's art was still steeped in 50s sci-fi creepiness and those early Spidey stories didn't seem to happen so much as they were this drive-by of four-color ethereal weirdness. Yet out of all this, perhaps the greatest "everyman" persona of the 20th Century is born.

If the original version was the short and sweet "punk rock classic", than certainly a retelling boasting well over ten times its page length could be considered something as ponderous as "prog-rock" by that virtue alone, right? If that is indeed the case, then I would submit that this Ultimate Collection is something akin to old school Jane's Addiction: that perfect-storm mixture between unrelenting primal buzzsaw pummeling and protracted lulling, meandering passages. Too arty and too rawkus to be pinned down to just one thing, Jane's literally carved an empire for themselves as this balls-out all-new amalgamation of all that had come before and they won big! Like Spidey, ever hear of another great American institution called "Lollapalooza"? Yeah...

It's that very balancing act of "arty" and "rawkus" that USM executes like few other, especially given what it's attempting. By way of example, the first issue itself runs 48 pages, culminating merely at Peter's discovery of his powers. While this progression may not seem altogether that far down the mythos turnpike in the standard context, never once are you left impatient to skip to the pro wrestling and the shooting already! This "decompressed" style is in fact enhanced quite nicely by a well-rounded tour through Peter's new "Ultimate U", drawing liberally from various places within the character's first five years of historical publication and reassembled into its own highly compelling mosaic.


It's also in the fundamental tactic of not taking on the original in a "shot for shot" remake that has been USM's rightful mark of excellence. A few years prior to the inception of Ultimate even, Marvel had attempted an updated reboot of the origin story with writer/artist John Byrne (one half of the legendary  "Dark Phoenix Saga" Uncanny X-Men team), which was received as one big pile of "meh" at best (and I am being very liberal here). It wasn't so much the outright tepidness of half-assed "modernization" (this being at the time the extremely soft-market of the mythically far-flung late 90s where Marvel themselves was recovering from the throes of bankruptcy and "playing it safe" was Job #1), it was more that Byrne took it upon himself to somehow correct a great deal of the early quirky idiosyncrasies right outta the lore altogether! In fact, the entire project came off more as a telegraphed exercise in doing precisely that than it did as its own stand-alone work, commanding its own weight and gravitas. While I see the inherent logic in wanting to explain away why a robber in midtown Manhattan would shoot an old man way out in Queens, it shouldn't be the focal point of an issue. Nor is combo-ing the accidents that produced both Spidey and Doc Ock just for the sake of there being one less lab explosion in the MU somehow "better". Combining these story gems with Byrne's own declining linework and it's hard to see how this could've been met with anything but universal disdain.

Cause and effect inversion aside, there is one great similarity between the ill-fated Spider-Man: Chapter One and the Bendis/Bagley Ultimate and that is in the tying of the arch-villain closer to the larger story's core. Being the gamble that the strip was when it was first released, it took the Amazing Spider-Man a little time to generate what would become one the most infamously beloved "rogues' galleries" in all of comicdom. Perennially at the top of that list are Norman "Green Goblin" Osborn and Dr. Otto Octavius ("Doctor Octopus"). While Byrne chose Otto as Peter's direct shadow of "science gone evil", Team USM went with Osborn-- making a significant difference in their baddy selection.


Don't get me wrong, I loves me some Ock-- Alfred Molina's portrayal in the 2004 film sequel was masterful-- but the character has always, and maybe in my mind, always will come off a Pete's wacky uncle when push really comes to shove. Nowhere is this evidenced more than in said movie. Not to mention that in the comics he has, in fact, on several occasions pursued Spidey's widowed Aunt May romantically ("Ock" also apparently stands for "Octogenarian loving"-- ewwww....). So yeah, wash that last image outta yr mind and move on to our other distinguished psycho-- a guy so crazy he'll throw yr girlfriend off a bridge and laugh right in yr face about it. Ladies and gentlemen: Norman Osborn!!


The detractions of his competition notwithstanding, ol' Normie truly does make his own case in every way conceivable. Couching him as a surrogate family member as well, Osborn is decidedly more the disapproving and distant "father figure" than he is anything else. In that match-up alone, he will win every time. It helps that Osborn does actually have a son, Harry, the closest thing Peter will ever have to a "brother". Despite his being offered everything in the world on a silver platter, Harry turned out kinda lackluster, rankling the man to no end. That his son would befriend such an extraordinarily gifted yet fatherless young man must've warmed his Goblin heart to no end. Especially when he could leverage all of Peter's accomplishments as psychological warfare against his only true flesh and blood just for shits and gigs. What made the irony even more delicious was that in those early days Norman, although oft-time displaying such cruel underpinnings, was fairly benevolent yet mentally divergent from his menacing identity. At one point, as the Green Goblin, he had actually discovered that Peter was Spider-Man but became amnesiac of the fact upon resuming his businessman/industrialist mantle. Peter in turn discovered Norman's dark secret and the entire plot kinda delved into this internecine war between bitterly dueling egos all trying to maintain the equilibrium of this ersatz "family". A gross over-simplification, sure, but no less maddening!

"Ultimate" Goblin took many of the figurative "Jekyll and Hyde" tropes of the classic and transformed Osborn into a seven-foot-tall monster, physically more a green-faced "demon" than "goblin". While the "mutual discovery of secret identities" beat remains intact, the delivery of the threat is unquestionably far more savage than anything from the halycon days of the Silver Age. To put it another way, this series makes a brief bid to address the hitherto unturned stone of "Mrs. Osborn" (Harry's mom)-- let's just say it doesn't turned out well here either, huh?

In all, Ultimate Collection, Book 1 is perhaps one of the most entertaining reads from cover to cover ever. Coming into a story knowing full well how the overlying gist is going to go yet making the reader anxious enough with every unexpected turn of the page is no small feat. Tempered as well now with the fact that "Ultimate" Peter Parker's entire life can easily be bound to twelve or thirteen very finite collected volumes, there is little still to diminish the enjoyment of this modern classic for the ages. Ten years late to the dance to say that I got in on the ground floor of something cool, sure, but it's still made me want to come back and read more.

 

Start Here Tomorrow...

So. Here we are. After much consideration (& a little cajoling), I've started a blog. Congratulations, how very 2003 of me. Guess the internet's officially over now, huh? Above all else, I should probably view this as more of the "late nite cable talk show" version of my other social media postings. I mean, if you really know me (or even just know me a little bit in real life), the idea of unlimited word-count is soooo much more the "Matty style". Don't get me wrong, I like having to pare down what I have to say to 140 characters or less from time to time as an exercise in koan-like precision but... more is more.

Another advantage is not getting inadvertently caught in some ridiculous flamewar of misinterpretation w/some friend of a friend or distantly-related family member who just happens to catch some random comment you make in a thread & just runs w/yr winky little inside-joke in the most unintended direction. Next thing ya know, you're just wasting energy doing damage control on something you never actually said w/somebody you never actually met! No, if you're here & reading this-- you are clearly HERE reading THIS. That's not say I'm belaboring under some false pretense of keeping this thing "invite only" or what have you, nor should this be taken as a sign that I'm now flying the flag for a friendlier "snark-free" internet. (Yeah, me, right?!) No, I welcome it-- in fact, if there was an Ellis Island for this here system of tubes, there should probably be a plaque there that'd read: "Give us yr nerdy, yr perverted, yr anonymous snark... Actually, nothing could possibly say "wecolme to the web!" more.

So, what am I hoping to accomplish with this &/or what can you come to expect from this blog thing? Well, more often than not it'll probably contain something music &/or comic book related. Those being the two big poles that I've bounced between for my entire existence- could it really be anything less?! I'm sure there'll be other things that I'll find worthy to rake over the coals and dissect as well. Most likely I'll piss people off along the way and hilariously wacky hijinks will ensue- personally, I can't wait!

Tearin' down walls & findin' out where you fans really stand...