So a Facebook friend of mine posted this earlier today, thinking it was funny.

(The Spanish-language bit, by the way, says: “FEMALE LOGIC: Incomprehensible to all men”)

My first instinct was to defriend the guy on the spot: we’re not that close, and I doubt he’d notice. A second thought was to blast the entire ideas expressed in the picture for the bunch of sexist crap it is.  The idea that eventually won out, though, was to post this (in Spanish, which I’ve translated here):

Nothing complicated or illogical about it: just like I have no problems being naked in front of my (theoretical) girlfriend, but would have problems being naked in front of a classroom, there are women who have moments where they like showing skin, and others when they don’t.”

While possibly more diplomatic than they deserved (yeah, “they” the post quickly received multiple comments about how “true” the sentiment expressed in the picture was), and probably less forceful than is necessary, it’s what I was willing to say out loud–I’m not good with confrontations.  If nothing else, I hope that some of them at least get the point that this is not just an idiosyncrasy only women indulge in, or senseless.  Still, it only scratches the surface of the Brobdingnagian amount of fail expressed in the picture.  Hence, this post.

I’ll grant this to the poster: there are people–not all of them women–who do, in fact, feel this way.   I can not speak as to the reasons why, except to say that culture has a lot to do with it.  We’re taught that different contexts require different responses, and what’s okay in the beach (displaying a lot of skin) isn’t okay in the funeral parlor, and this is a natural extension of that.  Saying that this is something that only women do is, at best, unobservant and at worst, dishonest.

This picture also carries with it the underlying idea that if a woman is open to dressing or acting sexily in one place, then she must be okay with being that same way everywhere else, which no: I reject the premise in its entirety.  Just because a woman (person, really) consents to being ogled, or kissed, or whatever in one place does not mean that she must consent in every other context.  She’s free to give or withdraw that consent, no ifs, ands, or buts–that’s what the word MEANS.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  If a woman I’m with feels embarrassed when I accidentally catch her changing, even after we’ve spent the day at the pool, well then that’s quite alright–I feel  the same way, lots of times.  She’s allowed to have her own opinion: it is her right as a person.  And if I happened to believe that what she wants is secondary, and don’t apologize for disrupting her privacy, then congratulations, me: I’m a huge asshole.

Second is the implication that women are inherently senseless (“Female logic”), which includes the corollary that men are logical, and that never the twain shall meet–individuality or personhood need not apply. It’s this type of thinking that forms a major part of the rape culture feedback loop.  After all, if women aren’t logical like men, then they are less than men–less than people.  And if they’re less than people, you don’t need to feel empathy for them, and it’s okay to grope them and harass them and embarrass them, and to make proposals in elevators and to drug their drinks.  After all, they’re just women, right?

And women aren’t the only ones being insulted here–men are, too, since the poster implies no men can understand female, which personally offends me.  I’ve worked very hard to try to understand people, so implying that I can’t understand half the world’s population belittles my efforts and my intelligence.  If you can’t that’s fine (no it’s not), but don’t go I think the same way you do just because we happen to share a Y gene.

• Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon vol. 2: Pretty, but I still feel the cartoon did it better.
• Sonic Universe #34: Considerably better than issue #33; I might have to reconsider my opinion of Tracy Yardley!’s writing chops.

Collections and Old Stuff:

• The Amazing Spider-Man: Origin of the Hobgoblin TPB: Still holds up surprisingly well.
• The Last Unicorn Hardcover: There is not enough “SQUEE!” in the world to express how happy I feel about being able to read this.  The art is brilliant.
• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures #27: Interesting, if mediocre.
• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures #49: Interesting, even if I don’t really understand what’s going on.
• Mighty Mutanimals #2: Will read tomorrow.

Publisher: Marvel, under the Crossgen imprint

Writer: G. Willow Wilson

Pencils: David López

Inks: Álvaro López

Colors: Nathan Fairbarn

Cover: Amanda Conner and Paul Mounts

Recommended Audience: People who like a little Disney in their stories; people who want more all-ages books from the Big 2.

As first issues go, Mystic #1 is almost perfect. In introduced its might-as-well-be-all-new characters and its world with incredible economy, and boatloads of charm. I was hooked—totally ready to dive into the continuing adventures of Giselle and Genevieve, as Giselle is given the life Genevieve wanted for herself. It’s a strong story, and one that, had it not been strangled by the limits imposed by a four-issue mini, would have been fantastic. As it is, it feels like a very nice-looking model home—it’ll be great if and when it becomes an actual house, but it isn’t.

The problems start with the very first page of issue #2, in which we see Genevieve getting thrown out of the palace for causing a stir, some time after issue #1′s cliffhanger. We have no idea what happened between scenes. Did Genevieve and Giselle speak? Did Giselle try to keep the palace guard from kicking her best friend away? We’re not told, which is supremely unfortunate, since it’s a vital part of the story, and its absence removes a lot of the nuance from the tale. Yes, the story demands that a wedge drive both of the girls apart and place them on opposite sides, and the structure demands that it occurs sooner rather than later; however, given what we learn of the girls in the first issue, I’m hard-pressed to see how Giselle’s selection alone is enough to do the trick, mostly because I m unconvinced that a) Giselle wouldn’t have successfully done her damnedest to keep Genevieve from being kicked out and b) that Genevieve wouldn’t have been happy for Giselle, despite her disappointment. While Giselle’s selection would have been a complication, it shouldn’t have been the straw to break the camel’s back.  As it is, it feels forced and makes both girls feel more unlikeable than they’d been last issue.

After the two protagonists separate, the book spends the bulk of its time with Giselle, as she learns to adapt to her new status quo.  It’s very much Harry Potter with large dollops of Mean Girls, and while the framework for an excellent story is definitively there, it’s not all it could be because the various players are not allowed to go break out of their basic archetypes. There’s Felice, the Queen Bee, who delights in making Giselle’s experience a living hell because of her origins. There’s Jolie and Heloise, her minions, who don’t even get to steal any scenes. There’s Ondine, the one that’s overweight and not traditionally pretty and whose only goal appears to be to help Giselle succeed. Finally, there’s Gerard, The Love Interest, who’s pretty and dumb and gets a heroic moment cause That’s The Way The Story Goes. While what we do get to see is perfectly fine, and there are bits and pieces that hint at greater depths—Felice’s ambitions, for example, lie in the political realm rather than the social one—like most of the book, there’s no time to develop it.

Genevieve’s side of things fares no better. She gets only one supporting character, Philippe, the leader of protesters and The One Who Claims to Fight for the People and Really Can’t Wait to Get Some Executions Going, and a situation than all in all needed to be more fleshed out in order to have impact. While we get a pretty clear idea of what their beef is—they claim that the nobles’ monopoly on fuel collection has led to massive income inequality–we really don’t get to see how valid their claims are, or how popular the movement actually is.

Fortunately, the book is accompanied by some stellar art. I raved about López, López, and Fairbairn in my last review, and everything I said then applies here. It is fantastic in all respects, and makes the world of Verne and its inhabitants shine.

When I read the first issue, I was elated. Finally, a story about friendship between girls on mainstream comics, I thought. And so well told. I was then disappointed to find out that it didn’t get the chance to be that. That said, I would still very much like to see this as an ongoing series, to see how G. Willow Wilson fares when she’s not constrained by the format and is allowed to do some more throughout world building—despite the disappointing pilot episode, there’s still a lot of potential for greatness here.  I hope other people agree.

Script: Ian Flynn

Pencils: Tracy Yardley!

Inks: Jim Amash

Colors: Steve Downer

Covers: Tracy Yardley!

Recommended Audiences: People who like prison break-out movies but thinks prison break-out movies are too violent.

The first thing that  Ian Flynn did when he took over as writer for the then-floundering Sonic the Hedgehog title was take one of the series’ oldest characters, Evil-Sonic–who for years had been an inert character with no direction or purpose beyond starring in lack-luster mistaken identity plots–and turned him into Scourge, the star of “Inside Job”. Initially a character who was just exactly what it says on the tin—an evil version of Sonic from an evil version of Mobius, with the leather jackets to prove it—Flynn turned that on its head and found some interesting character beats, as Scourge began tackling the question of what, exactly, it meant for him to be merely a copy of another character, and began forging his own identity (and forcing his comrades to do the same), culminating in an extended story arc which resulted in his defeat and incarceration.

Which brings us to “Inside Job” (a.k.a. “Scourge: Lock-Down”): Scourge has been incarcerated in Zone Jail–“a prison to hold the baddest of the bad across all dimensions”–for some time, and has been broken by the experience, as he is continuously tormented by fellow inmates and by the prison administration itself. Whereas before he was “King” Scourge, self-styled ruler of an entire world, he now counts only with only two professional doormats—ex-demigods Verti-Cal and Horizon-Al—as the closest things to friends. The plot begins when the Destructix, a group of mercenaries Scourge occasionally associated with, and who are now being led by Scourge’s girlfriend Fiona Fox, get themselves imprisoned in order to break Scourge out—but only if he can prove that he is worthy to lead them.

Taken by itself, this could have made for a cool two-part story. However, Flynn takes it a step further, by using the set-up as a springboard for developing the Destructix. Originally created in 1996 as a quirky mini-boss squad for would-be Big Bad Mammoth Mongul (introduced in that same story), they, like Scourge, had been coasting on inertia until Flynn got their hands on them, slowly turning them into the Sonic Universe’s version of DC’s Secret Six, as conceived by Gail Simone—characters who have been broken to the point of amorality, who stay together because they can’t stay with anybody else. Despite the rather drastic difference in tone, the concept works really well. In this arc Flynn, after years of assorted hints,  finally defines their respective origins, tying their existence into the greater Sonicverse, and giving them a sense of cohesion they’ve never really had before.

(A moment of silence for Secret Six. You are missed.)

A lot of what makes this arc shine is the sheer amount of fan service, in the form of sweet, sweet continuity porn. From the unexpected return of Verti-Cal and Horizont-Al, whose only appearance of note was all the way back in Sonic the Hedgehog #2, to cameos by characters from the games and even from outside the Sonic-verse. However, the fan-service is not allowed to overwhelm the actual story, which still manages to retain its tight focus, which is appreciated.

Pencils are, as usual, by Tracy Yardley!, which means they are fantastic. Particular credit must be given for the work involved in designing all the various extras, most of which are new, but who managed to look both distinctive and stylistically cohesive, something the book has struggled with the past. Also important to note is the fantastic design for the Zone Prison itself. Part of the gimmick of the interdimensional nexus where the story is set is that gravity works differently for visitors, meaning that they face the worlds ninety degrees from the way its native inhabitants (such as all the prison employees) see it, and Yardley! plays it to the hilt, designing a set that works both ways, something that I’m betting must have taken a lot of hours to layout properly and deserves major props. Inking and coloring, as usual, do a great job of complementing the pencils.

“Inside Job” if memory serves, is the first full-length story in the Sonicverse to star a villain. Given how it turned out, I have absolutely no objection to seeing more.

Publisher: IDW

Story: Kevin Eastman & Tom Waltz

Script: Tom Waltz

Layouts: Kevin Eastman

Art: Dan Duncan

Colors: Ronda Pattison

Release Date: August 24, 2011

Cover: Various, and I refuse to name them all.

Recommended Audiences: People who like the Ninja Turtles and wondered what that part at the end of Turtles Forever was all about.

(Warning: Substantial spoilers ahead, particularly if you’re a Mirage fan who’s reading to find out what has changed.)

Ask the regular adult on the street what they know about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and chances are they’ll tell you about the cartoon series that took the world by storm in the late eighties and early nineties. Ask the regular fifteen-year old, and they’ll probably mention the recently-ended cartoon series, or the recent CGI movie, if they know about the franchise at all. Comparatively speaking, very few people will tell you about the comic book series that started it all, a Frank Miller pastiche that ended up becoming one of the most unlikely success stories in comic book history.

Created by aspiring cartoonists Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, the original TMNT was a mish-mash of various disparate elements, influences, and genres. As the name would indicate, it was about a group of mutant turtles in their teens, who happened to be ninja;  trained by an adult mutant ninja rat named Splinter in the martial arts, they were given a mission: kill the adult human ninja human called Shredder to avenge the murder of Splinter’s owner. Because that’s what you do.  It was successful enough to merit additional issues, which in turn led to action figures and a cartoon, which in turn led to a national phenomenon that recast the grim-and-gritty turtles into slapstick pizza addicted jokesters most of the world knows.

This wasn’t the end of the story, however: while the cartoon turtles made their appearance on millions of television screens, Eastman and Laird’s publishing company Mirage Studios quietly continued pumping out comics, building a universe quite unlike that of the cartoon or films. While it wasn’t published as regularly as its sister title Usagi Yojimbo, the comic book turtles outlasted its cartoon counterpart, and despite its dwindling readership, books continued to be published until 2010. Characters grew, evolved, and matured with their audience, in an universe with its own distinctive and inimitable personality.

When Nickelodeon bought the TMNT from co-creator and by then sole owner Peter Laird, fans of the Mirage comic books had reason to worry. While the turtles would undoubtedly live on, the chances that the world would ever again see something like the Mirage comics seemed dim—after all, the book’s chart-topping days were far behind it, and if anything, promoting a more realistic take on the turtles alongside the more humorous incarnation Nickelodeon would almost certainly be going for risked brand confusion. It therefore came as a minor shock when Nickelodeon announced that they had licensed the property to IDW Publishing, and that they would indeed be creating books in the style of the original Mirage comics, with the cooperation of one very special creator—Kevin Eastman himself.

Details soon followed. The book would be set in its own universe, separate from both Eastman and Laird’s original Mirage continuity and whatever animated series Nickelodeon came up with. Like every new continuity , the book would include a mixture of established characters and all-new additions. Kevin Eastman would help provide story outlines and layouts, while Tom Waltz (Silent Hill: Past Life) and newcomer Dan Duncan would provide scripts and finished art, respectively. Unlike “classic” Mirage books, the new series would be in color. It would also be accompanied by the kind of marketing push the likes the Mirage Turtles had probably never enjoyed.

So how did the final product end up? Would it satisfy fans of the Mirage comics? After reading this issue…I’m not sure. It’s obviously trying to replicate the Mirage tone and style—to the point of using the original book’s logo (sans the bit where it announces that it’s “Eastman and Laird’s” TMNT) and giving all four turtles red bandannas (a sticking point with most Mirage fans). However, there are bits and pieces which feel distinctively and deliberately un-Mirage-ish, such as the decision to add color (which I get, and isn’t wholly unprecedented) and a rather distressing plot point: during a battle between the turtles and the gang of thugs led by Old-Hob—a one-eyed, anthropomorphic cat created specifically for the comic—Splinter declares/orders that “none must die [meaning, presumably, their opponents]”–a statement that seems rather baffling in a larger context, since Eastman and Laird’s original Splinter (ergo, the original turtles) had no problem with killing in battle—heck, the original purpose for their training was so they could kill the Shredder—and so the statement here (followed by a battle which would not feel entirely out of place in the recent 4Kids cartoon) feels entirely at odds with the creators’ stated purpose. While future issues may shed some light on this particular detail—there are multiple tactical and strategic reasons why you might want to let your opponents live—until then, it’s a detail that bugs.

While the series tries to replicate the original comics’ tone, it’s clear that they’re not particularly trying to replicate its plot: one issue in, and there are already a ton of differences between this incarnation and the original, ranging from the merely aesthetic (the turtles have no tails; Splinter has gray fur) to details that place it right next to the first cartoon when it comes to actual faithfulness to the original story. The turles’ origin, in particular, appears to have been altered in almost every conceivable way. Instead of being pet turtles, they are turtles being used as part of particular genetic experiments at StockGen Research Inc.; instead of being named by Splinter after being mutated, they are named by April O’Neil while still in their non-mutated state; instead of being Hamato Yoshi’s pet rat nor Hamato Yoshi himself, Splinter is a lab rat being tested on as part of a different StockGen experiment.

Now, it’s hard to say whether these changes will work or not—so far, we’ve only been given a tiny bit of backstory, and to be entirely fair, none of the changes so far have been badly implemented, so far—in fact, they’re the most intriguing and interesting part of the book (this isn’t entirely a positive thing—see below). However, the pessimistic part of me feels that unless there’s some kind of upcoming drastic swerve, the changes so far change the characters in ways that make them not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but a similar concept with the TMNT name attached. For example, there has been no mention so far of any of turtles’ Japanese backstory: how, then, do the characters become ninja, as opposed to boxers, traceurs , or capoeira masters? Why is Splinter their master, for that matter? Assuming the story goes where it seems to be going, with the turtles and Splinter mutating as part of a Science Experiment Gone Horribly Wrong, how does the story account for all of this? And how does it do it in a way that feels natural for the characters?

None of this, of course, has any importance unless you’re familiar with the original Mirage comics. For those of you who aren’t—and IDW hopes that that’s most of you—the relevant question is: is it good?

Well…

The original TMNT book, famously, was a one-shot story; in forty pages it detailed the origins of the Turtles, Splinter, and their arch-enemy the Shredder, with enough space left over for the two sides to actually fight each other to the death, and for a “bonus” introductory fight between the turtles and the Purple Dragon gang. While things like “character development” were missing, the story had a complete beginning, middle and end, and you either liked it or don’t.

This incarnation of the turtles, on the other hand, appears quite happy to give us things in bits and pieces. We get pieces of their origins. We’re introduced to a ton of characters, and given hints to what their story arcs will be. One thing we do not get real is introductions to three of the four turtles; while there is a flashback in which the quartet of baby normal science turtles are named, we’re not told how these correspond with their teenage versions, with the exception of Raphael, whose separation from the rest of the group makes him easy to identify. All in all, this feels like book meant for those who already know about the turtles, and most of the points of interest are interesting precisely in that “oh, this is a new take on things—how will it go?” feeling. For people unfamiliar with the turtles, however, it’s probably not the best of introductions: while there are things which I feel they might find of potential interest, no real incentive is given for them to pick up the next issue. No characters pop out and make you want to care about them, the cliffhanger isn’t exactly the most exciting of materials, and the concept itself doesn’t really have the inherent draw it once had. It’s not a bad comic by any means; it’s just not a terribly good first issue, if you’re new to the turtles.

If you do know the turtles, however, it’s quite good. The first part of the book—the aforementioned fight scene between the turtles and Old Hob’s gang—is well-paced and nicely reminiscent of the original comic books’ opening. It’s also nice to see a villain that a) is all new and b) isn’t the Shredder. It is followed by a flashback segment starring the scientists at StockGen Research and which features the bulk of the origin details, which, like I said, is probably the most interesting part of the book. Finally, the book closes with a segment that’s interesting in a “how did character X get in that situation?” way, and introduces an eight historical TMNT character to the mix. Strangely enough, it simultaneously feels as if both too much and too little happened in the issue, possibly because its the plotline that feels most like an ongoing story is the StockGen one, which feels rather odd, coming from a franchise which never placed much stock in the protagonists’ origin story.

The art, on the other hand,does a good job of keeping the Mirage grittiness while doing its own thing. I’d been worried about Dan Duncan’s’ art because the pieces of it I’d seen uniformly did something weird to the turtles’ mouths and teeth, but that’s not nearly as big a factor as I feared. The layouts, particularly during combat scenes, are quite good—Kevin Eastman may have been out of the game for the better part of a decade, but he still knows how to compose a panel. Ronda Pattison’s colors complement the story and art quite well; I’m still not sure colors are necessary, but hers’ work.

IDW really hopes this book does well for them—they book has a ridiculous twelve alternate covers (I got the Leo one, cause he’s my favorite turtle ^_^ ). As a fan of the latter Mirage comics, I hope they do well—while the more popular cartoon versions are equally valid takes on the concept, I feel the original comics deserve way more recognition than they get. Is this the comic book that will do it? I’m not quite sure. Fans of the Mirage books will like it, even if they don’t quite recognize as a legitimate successor to the original. Fans of the turtles in general, particularly those who’ve heard, but haven’t read, the original books and are curious about them, will probably find stuff to like, too. However, this book probably won’t convince TMNT newbies, which is a damn shame.

—-

P.S.: The book features a character called General Krang.  For some reason, I keep imagining him with Christopher Ayres’ Frieza voice.

ETA: Random comment: Given Eastman’s involvement, I’m semi-surprised that the version of April the comic is going with is a Caucasian redhead.  Guess it’ll be a good long while before there’s any official depiction of her as an African American. 

Publisher: Archie Comics
Script: Ian Flynn
Pencils: Patrick “Spaz” Spaziante
Inks: Gary Martin
Colors: Matt Herms
Covers: Spaz, with variant covers by Chad Thomas (#1), Spaz (#2) Ben Bates (#3), and Jammal Peppers (#4)
Recommended Audiences: Kids, young teenagers, the young at heart, fans of the original game.

Part of the reason why Archie Comics’ Sonic the Hedgehog is one of the best comics on the stand today is because writer Ian Flynn deftly manages to make use of the humongous world at his disposal and present it in an accessible manner. With material from nearly two dozen games, two animated series, and a decade’s worth of comics to draw from (including a fair amount of material that clashes or simply doesn’t fit together) a less ambitious writer would have said “screw it–let’s reboot” long ago; Flynn, on the other hand, has given himself the task of slowly reshaping it in order to make it work, while still acknowledging what came before.

Recently, Archie tasked Flynn with replicating Sonic’s success with another venerable videogame franchise, Mega Man. Given the Blue Bomber’s own storied history—one that spans more than twenty games and several different sub-franchises and additional material—it would have not been illogical to expect Flynn to take the Sonic approach to his new book. Instead, he has done something rather different: for his first act, he has taken it upon himself to adapt the very first Mega Man game in its entirety.

Now, if you’re familiar with the original Mega Man game, it won’t take long to find a potential problem with this approach: released for the Nintendo Entertainment System in 1987 the game had very little in the way of a story; Mega Man just went through six stages, fought six bosses, stormed mad scientist Dr. Wily’s skull-shaped keep, and that’s it. There was a premise, to be sure: Mega Man (a.k.a.“Rock”) is a helper robot–think of him as a humanoid Roomba–who was modified to become a warrior by his creator, Dr. Light, after Light’s former colleague Dr. Wily, as part of a bid to take over the world, stole and reprogrammed the six “Robot Masters” they’d both created—but as a story, it is hugely lacking in specifics: Mega Man is good; Dr. Wily is evil; the Robot Masters have no set personalities aside from what could be assumed from their appearances. And while worked great for the game, a comic book is a completely different beast. You could try creating brand new details for the story, but Flynn isn’t really interested in that, at this point. So how does he do?   As well as could be expected, really.

With more than six separate big fights to cover and ten characters to develop, “Let the Games Begin” has a lot of ground to cover: after spending the first issue establishing the main characters and the premise, the story arc adopts a breakneck pace in order to manage it all—imagine if the Scott Pilgrim book had condensed the battles between the seven evil exes into one book, and you’ll get the idea. And yet, he does it—all six stages and Robot Masters are represented here, and Mega Man goes through them in the classic videogame order, obtaining their powers as he goes; Wily’s castle goes as it should, with the Yellow Devil*, Robot Masters redux (with a twist), Mega Man copy, and finally, Willy himself**. Between all the fighting and action set pieces, it’s a wonder he’s able to develop any characters at all, and yet he does: between all the action, Flynn manages to establish Rock as a young boy who, despite his distaste for violence and self-doubt, risks everything—including his beliefs and his morals—in order to do what needs to be done. His path is a hard one, and the fact that he questions it every step of the way is what makes him a hero. Dr. Light also gets the foundation for an interesting character arc, as he is presented as a person who sought to use the Robot Masters to better the world as atonement for perceived past sins, who now sees his life’s work used to do exactly what he wanted to avoid—it’s gripping stuff, for a book nominally aimed at children. Unfortunately, there’s not enough space to do more than lightly sketch the rest of the cast, and a couple of the character beats come in too fast to feel particularly natural, but hopefully future arcs, which according to Flynn will not necessarily be tied down to any one game, will allow the characters a chance to breathe.

One particular thing I’d like to note is that, like its source material, “Let the Games Begin” has a hugely unbalanced gender ratio. When it comes to women, there’s Roll—Rock’s robot “sister”—and that’s it: a 9-to-1 ratio, and one that we can expect to get even worse as the series goes on and new Robot Masters are introduced. While Flynn’s choices to rectify this are limited, I do hope he at least tries to do something to address this–he’s done wonderfully in that respect in Sonic the Hedgehog, and I hope he’ll be able to do something similar here.

While “Let the Games Begin”’s writing is a mixed bag, the same cannot be said of the art, which is only nearly perfect because perfection implies a level of awesomeness that would probably destroy the planet if achieved. While Patrick “Spaz” Spaziante is more commonly associated with the Sonic the Hedgehog book—he’s been providing covers and the occasional bit of interior art for almost as long as the book has been around— his style make the transition to the Mega Man-verse seamlessly. Of particular note are his panel compositions, which have always been a particular strength of his and are the main reason why the various Robot Master fights work. Inker Gary Martin and colorist Matt Herms capably supplement Spaz’s pencils: this is a very pretty book.

The original Mega Man game did not require a story: it did perfectly well without it, and trying to craft one may seem rather misguided, if not a spectacular exercise in missing the point. However, with “Let the Games Begin”, Team Archie has crafted a story that feels like something the player might come up with as he is playing: they get the concept, it’s appeal, and how to make it work as a book: if the creators can improve on the pacing, it could very well be the definitive adaptation of the franchise***. Issues #1-4 of Mega Man can probably be found at your Local Comic Book shop, or can be ordered directly from Archie. A collection of the four issues will also become available on September.

—

* Although really, was it that hard to have Mega Man defeat the him by using the Thunder Beam, then pausing the game repeatedly to maximize the number of hits? Was that so hard to adapt?

** Ooh and Mets!  Or “Taco Bells”, as me and my friends used to call them.

*** Caveat: If the Mega Man 2 adaptation doesn’t consist of Mega Man completely abandoning the Mega Buster in favor of the Metal Cutter because dude, it totally shoots in every direction, it automatically fails.

Then came the third episode “Song of the Petalars”, in which the series tries something new and gets a good story out of the deal, even as it fails to live up to its potential.

The premise goes something like this: after Lion-O and the group decide to hide from an approaching squadron of lizards, they run into a clan of Petalars, tiny plant-like beings who have been literally blown away from their homeland. The Thundercats, heroes that they are, offer to help in their return pilgrimage. The catch is that Petalars are extremely short-lived species, going through an entire life cycle in a day. Over the course of the episode, Lion-o bonds with a particular Petalar, Emmerich, whom he comes to know throughout the entirety of the petalars’ life; in the end, just after the group finds the way back into the Petalars’ homeland, Emmerich dies of old age.

This episode had a lot to like: it has a great premise, which for me is usually enough to forgive a multitude of sins, like inconsistent characterization on the Thundercats; the character designs for the Petalarans are fantastic, and the overall tone of the episode makes me want to hug its creators. And yet, at the end of the episode I got the feeling that the creators either didn’t think the whole premise through, or did and decided to ignore its implications for the sake of the story they wanted to tell. Which is fine, I guess—the episode was still an exceptionally good one—but it could have been so much more.

For one, I would have really liked to see the episode explore the idea of what history means to a people with such short lifespans. For example, by the time the Petelarians managed to return to their homeland, for them it would have been several generations since any of them had actually lived there. That being the case, what motivates them? (I might have missed a relevant bit here).

Not only that, there’s the fact that if a day is a lifetime, a homeland can be a very ephemeral thing. Say the episode had been taking place during a day-long storm: that storm would have been all that Emmerich ever knew, and he’d likely be unable to visualize a world with a sun—he’d likely consider it the stuff of folklore. It all makes me feel that the Petalars entire goal felt misguided. By the time we meet them, they’re chasing a dream that isn’t their own, and going to a home that doesn’t exist, and the episode itself doesn’t really question that (I feel; I missed a bit of dialogue which may have been significant). It would have felt more natural, I feel, if they’d been natural nomads instead of allegorical Jews.

I also felt that something was lost by having Emmerich having the bulk of his interaction with Lion-O, particularly since it closed off the rest of the Petalarian civilization from the audience, preventing us from further seeing what their society is like. I also sort of wish that they’d dealt with what it means for him to spend what amounts to most of his life interacting with only one person—an outsider, at that—in a society that (from what we saw) appears to value the collective over the individual, it would seem that something like that would make him a pariah,which is something I would have liked to see explored.

There’s a bunch more stuff, but it all boils down to my belief that the concept for the Petalars was too good and too rich for the writers to only spend 15 minutes on it, and that the episode could have been more thought-provoking than it could have been, with a few tweaks.  I hope we get to see them again.

That said, even with all of the unused potential, I felt the episode was excellent and bodes well for the cartoon.

Random thoughts:

• I really hoped Emmerich had been a girl. Four issues in, the show has been pretty consistent in portraying men as the default and women as the exception, which I find disheartening. It may get better yet—Avatar: The Last Airbender didn’t really get gender-neutral until season 2—but given the show’s established cast and connection to past incarnations—I’m not sure if the creators trust the fans to react positively if they’d introduced an all-new, female Thundercat–I’m not particularly optimistic.

• I continue to be impressed with the way the series handles the fight scenes, particularly the way it allows us to see Lion-O actually cutting down enemies with his sword in a way that feels natural and brutal while still being “safe”, without making the lack of blood or gore feel weird. A lot of otherwise awesome good cartoons have had problems with this sort of thing, so I’m glad to see that this particular obstacle isn’t insurmountable.
• “Thundercats” is still a silly name.

Book: Mystic (Vol. 2) #1 (of 4)
Publisher: Marvel, under the Crossgen imprint
Writer: G. Willow Wilson
Pencils: David López
Inks: Álvaro López
Colors: Nathan Fairbarn
Cover: Amanda Conner and Paul Mounts
Release Date: Aug. 4, 2011

Comic books about women are relatively rare.  Comic books about female friendships are almost unexistent–Strangers in Paradise is the one that immediately comes to mind*, as does Birds of Prey, but I’d have to dig rather deeply to find any others, and I’m a pretty big fan of comics–maybe Betty & Veronica?  In any case, given the scarcity of such books, it’s encouraging to see that Mystic #1, by Crossgen via Marvel, is really good. 

Although I was a pretty big fan of Crossgen way back in its original incarnation, I never got into the original Mystic, so I can’t really tell whether or not it sticks to its original premise and set-up (there’s certainly a lot less skin–compare this issue’s cover with those of the original series); my guess  is that while it’s not Mystic In Name Only like Sigil was, it’s not something you could consider a proper continuation of the original series like Ruse**, either.  The set-up here is this:  Giselle and Genevieve are orphans in the steampunk-meets-magic world of Hyperion.  Romantic Genevieve dreams of surpassing the limits imposed into her by class and being chosen to become a royal apprentice of the Noble Arts at the palace; headstrong, practical Giselle would just like to escape their dreary orphanage and its tyrannical overseer.  After their latest unauthorized excursion into their Mistress’ private library is discovered, they decide to take their lives into their own hands, and the plot begins.

Most of the issue is spent establishing the characters of the two protagonists, and writer G. Willow Wilson–whom I’d never heard of before, but now wish I had–does an excellent job with that.  I particularly like that both girls are presented as being bookish and curious and smart, even as they’re smart in different ways.  The relationship rings true, and does a good job of setting the reader up for the last page development, on which the whole series hinges.  The dialogue is suitably punchy and works, for the most part–Genevieve sounds too overwritten at parts, and I’m not quite sure if it’s supposed to be an intentional affectation or not.

While I’m unfamiliar with Wilson’s work, the same cannot be said for David López art, which I’ve loved since Fallen Angel and continues to rock here.  His expressions and body language, in particular, are fantastic–there’s a page near the end of the book consisting of a nine-panel grid, each featuring a prospective Noble Arts Apprentice as zie is asked a question about the history and laws of Hyperion; in the space of one panel, each of these extras (at least here–we may see some of them later) is made to feel like an individual, distinct, and interesting character.  The pencils are well complemented with inks by Álvaro López and colors by Nathan Fairbarn.

All in all, this is a fantastic book, one which I wish had, like Ruse, been better marketed, as it’s the kind of all-ages girl-friendly books that I feel the big 2 need to focus on more if they are to truly increase their reader base: I could see this really appealing to fans of Young Adult literature, and I hope the rest of the mini-series maintains this level of quality.

* Caveat: Given that most  friendships between females in Strangers in Paradise appear to end in sexual relationships, it may not be the best example ever, when taken as a complete work.

** Y’know, if you ignore that whole “Emma has superpowers and secretly watches over Simon as part of a game she plays with a mysterious higher power” business.

So I went to my local comic book shop last Wednesday, and was stoked to find that they’d put on a flier promoting Womanthology, the graphic novel (read: comic book) collecting the work of various women in the industry. The brainchild of artist Renae DeLiz (the awesome artist of The Last Unicorn and assorted issues of Archie’s Sonic the Hedgehog*), it has caused a big splash in the comic-sphere, gaining a huge amount of contributors (including established talent like Gail Simone, as well as people who’ve never been published before) and becoming one of the best-funded projects on Kickstarter in a ridiculously short period of time. It’s also a particularly timely project, given DC Comic’s recent marginalization of their female fans, characters, and creators: the success of a project like this is the perfect way to let it (and Marvel, and all other companies, really) that women do read comics, and that, in ignoring this particular audience, they only do themselves harm. Also, I hope this does well enough with the menfolk to make DC and Co. realize that HEY! A lot of us have no problem reading stuff created by and for women.

So yeah. If you’re into comic books as a medium, or feel that you’d like comic books as a medium but never given it a shot, or if you just like to support female artists and have money to invest, please consider giving this a shot.  I’m not exactly sure when its released–their Facebook page has a tentative December 7 date–but if you contact your nearest comic book shop–which you can locate via this handy page–they should be able to reserve it for you.

* By the way, for those of you wondering what comic book one should give a child between the ages of 7-13, Sonic the Hedgehog is a darn good choice.  It’s Avatar: The Last Airbender if Aang was a small blue mammal.

“Does ANYONE think that if Obama had been a tough, principled, unabashed progressive, he’d be worse off than he is now?”

Title aside, McEwan adds nothing else to the blog post, and I sort of wish she had, since the idea that things would have been different (read: better) if Obama held progressive beliefs and fought for them is one I grapple with constantly.  I’ve heard progressives make the claim with differing amounts of certainty, which is something I’ve never felt when it comes to the matter. A world in which Obama–or any other Democrat elected as President in 2008–is a Progressive is so far removed from the actual world, charting an accurate alternate history would be as fruitless as finding a soul in Governor Luis Fortuño. About the only thing I would be able to say for certain is that progressives would be happy with him/hir, and that Fox News Coverage would hardly change at all.

Yes, the country would almost certainly be better if we had more progressive policies in place.  Would those progressive policies have passed, though, if Obama or a hypothetical other president, had pursued them while Democrats had control of the legislature? My (limited) understanding of the political situation leads me to believe that the answer is “no”, as best evidenced by the whole Health Care Bill debate.  Was the Public Option necessary in order for the bill to be as effective as possible?  As I understand it, yes–although I also understand that the health care bill we got is considerably better than doing nothing at all.  Were progressives right in feeling betrayed when Democrats abandoned it? Sure.  Would it have passed if Democrats had been more uncompromising in its inclusion?  Like I said, probably not.  Would a consistently pro-public option stance on a failed Health Care bill have helped Democrats in 2010?  I don’t see how.

Now, there are certain other things which Obama does have control over, which do not require Congress in order to be enacted–say, Guantanamo bay–and where it comes to those, Obama has no excuse for following through other than a) a lack of belief in progressive policies are the best solution, b) or cowardice.  Would taking the progressive option, in this case, have harmed him?  I don’t see how.  Would it have helped him with his base?  Yes.  Would it have helped with the election?  I don’t know, but I’d say that probably not, if we accept that most low-information voters don’t really care about things like that, given they tend not to affect their livelyhoods.  A swift withdrawal from Afghanistan and Iraq would similarly help him with his base, but it’s unclear how that would help congress during the election.   That, however, does not change the fact that closing down Guantanamo and ending the wars were the right thing to do, even if they drew no advantage from it.

Moving on to the present day, it’s clear that Obama and the Democrats are now in a much more weakened position, at both the state and the federal level: in many states, Republicans take advantage of their majorities to roll back basic human rights, and Democrats are left with no option but to publicly complain, which they often don’t.  At the Federal level, Congress has taken up destroying the economy as a hobby, taking it as a hostage by suddenly refusing to do something that they once did without a thought.   Democrats, in response, have taken to promising everything and anything–even measures that go against everything they stand for and help no one–in order to try to get them to stop, a move that a) hasn’t worked, so far b) destroys the Democratic brand in the process, c) moves the center of American politics ever more to the right, as the unthinkable suddenly becomes plausible.

Still, what else could they do?  Sticking to their guns would help with the base–it’d certainly reassure me–but doesn’t help unless it turns out that Republicans are actually bluffing about the debt ceiling.  If they aren’t bluffing, though–and I don’t believe they are–then you end up with two immobile coalitions and a ruined economy.  There’s the argument that Obama would be able to unilaterally raise the debt ceiling anyway, but my understanding of things is that he would not be able to do so until things were already in the crapper.  And the same goes for pretty much everything else.  All the while, Obama loses his bases’ support.

So to turn back to the main topic: the belief that things wouldn’t be as bad if Obama stuck to his party’s core beliefs.  People who believe this must be seeing something I’m not, and I would like to know what that is, because certainty sounds so good right about now.