The Factual Opinion

Stunt Casting: Jog and Matt Seneca Burn Tucker's Face With A Lighter Made Of Intelligence

This past weekend saw some of this blog's favorite individuals in attendance at the Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival, a trip that included a stopover at the fabled 2nd Avenue Warehouse (also known as Koch's place). Following the purchasing of comics, two of the individuals--Matthew Seneca and Joseph McCulloch--hung around for an improptu discussion regarding both locations, the comics they contained, Jerry Sandusky, the thing Tucker thought was crazy racist but turned out to be a practiced work of satire (which is something you can hear Joe figure out the second he opens the comic), and various other sundries.

Q: How's the audio quality?
A: It isn't that spectacular.

Q: Are you sorry about that?
A: Absolutely!

Q: Do you think this makes up for the woeful lack of interesting content over the last...jesus, the whole year! You basically did nothing!
A: I know, I know, but December should be a great month. For stuff!

Q: Fine, where is the stupid thing?
A: It's after the break.

Q: Is it crazy long?
A: It's about 90 minutes.

SECOND CITY: the Paul Duncan & Phil Elliott Interview

by Michel Fiffe

In comics, it’s the quick bursts of brilliance that can be found in the most peculiar of places; a fly by night one shot here, a back up story in a random annual there or even a short run in an anthology. These newsprint vehicles contain some gems from creators that didn’t have the interest or mileage or opportunity to be thrown into the spotlight by the hands of fate (or editors).

Another reliable delivery system for these kind of unsung comics is the mini series, specifically the ones from the independent press. Many examples can prove me wrong, but the mini series isn’t conducive to dragging out a story. It forces it to be told efficiently while still giving it enough breathing room to develop substantially. 

Second City is the perfect example of a layered and ambitious comic book that rewards the reader beyond the brief commitment to four issues. Written by Paul Duncan and drawn by Phil Elliott in 1986, Second City was released by the short-lived publisher, Harrier Comics. I first came across a random issue of that title a couple of years ago. Upon reading it, I was taken by how eloquent and visually striking it was. Even when I found the remainder of the mini series at a local back issue shop, it wasn’t enough. I had to know more about it, how it came to be and who was responsible.

Phil Elliott is a longstanding staple of the indie UK comics scene. His projects include Tales From Gimbley, Tupelo, and several other comics for Escape and Strip Magazine. Paul Duncan was the founder of comics magazine Arken Sword and after a brief stint in writing comics, he focused on writing, editing, archiving all things crime stories. When I contacted both gentlemen to investigate further, they graciously mapped out their collaboration and looked back to examine their work on Second City.

 

SON OF ORIGIN

PHIL ELLIOTT: I’d known Paul Duncan for a few years due to his editorship of the comics magazine, Arken Sword. Paul was helpful in promoting my work and that of other British artists working on the fringes of the comics industry and we often discussed collaborating on something together. Our “big break” came in the form of Harrier Comics, a UK publisher who was taking advantage of the growing direct sales market. This was an opportunity to have our work published and also reach a wider audience… and we might even make some money from it! We weren’t the only ones thinking this. My old mate, Eddie Campbell had the same idea and he and I had a friendly competition at the time to see who could get their comic released by Harrier first. Second City pipped Eddie’s Deadface by about six months. Actually, if I remember correctly, the first chapter of Second City was originally going to be a stand-alone story which we thought could be expanded, and that’s when we approached Harrier.

PAUL DUNCAN: Phil and I knew each other from the London Comic Marts, where everybody from the Fast Fiction (i.e. self-published comics) scene, comics fandom, and the emergent 2000AD/Warrior creators met every couple of months for a chat and gossip and news, as well as to buy the latest comics.

I'd always admired Phil's clear-line style of art, and the great work he'd done on Doc Chaos and Gimbley, and had included some of his work in my magazine Arken Sword (later Ark) as well as interviewing him for the mag. In fall 1985 he rang me up, saying that he wanted to work on something a bit more commercial for the burgeoning American market, and could I recommend some writers for him to collaborate with. I gave him some names, and also, uncharacteristically, suggested myself. He looked through the scripts he received and decided to illustrate my short 6-page SF strip, which was fashioned along the lines of Blade Runner, film noir, and his own self-reflective comics.

Although Phil had worked on pro comics before, I had not, so it was a little nerve-wracking for me. Phil quickly put together the first story, “Contact”, and he even finished it off with a lovely wash finish. We sent copies to David Lloyd and Steve Bissette to get their reactions, which were favourable. Dave suggested changes, mainly to make it more linear, but both Phil and I resisted this because we felt that its air of mystery was one of its strongest points.

At the beginning of 1986, Phil sent a copy to Eclipse Monthly, who sort of liked it, but wouldn't commit to anything solid. While we were waiting, Phil and I were starting to think in terms of doing a series of 6-page stories that gradually revealed the background and a larger story. We showed the strip and explained the idea to Martin Lock of Harrier Comics, who had a stall at the London Comic Mart, and was easily accessible. Although we weren't particularly keen on some of his comics, we liked him, he was a solid dependable person, and he was willing to give us complete creative control of every aspect of the 4-part mini-series.

THEMATIC INSPIRATION

DUNCAN: The first story is a kind of “a day in the life of a government killer” which introduced the reader to the world, the technology, the characters, and the idea that people spent so much time in their room video-conferencing (what we call Skyping today) that they lost all sense of physical or emotional contact. This was written in 1985, before I had had any experience of e-mail and the Internet, and I was even using a card-punch system at Polytechnic to run and compile my programs. I had just read Isaac Asimov's SF mysteries The Caves of Steel and The Naked Sun, and this idea of a lack of real connection between people was the impetus of the whole thing. Also, at the time I was a student living at home with my parents, and we were all living in different 8-hour shifts, and I was very much struck by the fact that I was living in the same space as my parents but none of us saw the other for any appreciable period of time, yet we were all interdependent. To this idea of the rigorous control and fracturing of time was another idea added to the melting pot.

Once Martin gave us the go-ahead, we decided to do a total of 16 independent chapters, but with each of them feeding into the other chapters, so that a whole was created. I loved Will Eisner's The Spirit, and wanted to get his sense of completeness for each chapter. Also, I love hardboiled and noir fiction, and I used Paul Cain's Seven Slayers as the model for economy and thrift in direct storytelling. I dived in with absolutely no idea of what the overall arc of the story was. The only thing we knew for certain was that the title was Second City.

 COLLABORATIVE PROCESS

ELLIOTT: I’d some experience of drawing longer comics like Doc Chaos but was more used to creating short stories, often single-page vignettes. Paul was conscious that I might freak out if I was presented with a full 96-page script so he broke the story down into chapters and I received the script in short bursts. This of course meant I wasn’t entirely sure how the story would develop, but I never found this a hindrance.

Paul’s scripts were quite detailed, with very specific notes about the staging of certain panels and the positioning of characters, especially where scenes mirrored each other. This didn’t mean Paul wasn’t open to adaptations or suggestions and we were in regular contact about the comic, discussing different approaches. This was before e-mails and we would often be on the phone for an hour or more, almost every day, much to my wife’s horror when the phone bills came in!

DUNCAN: We worked on a chapter-by-chapter basis. The reason for this was initially because we didn't know if we could produce the work in bulk, and also because giving ourselves short-term objectives made our progress seem quick.

This is how it worked. I wrote, by hand, a six-page script, with a thumbnail of the panel grids, and a full description and dialogue for each panel. I'd post it to Phil and he'd get it the next morning, read through it, ask questions if he needed to, then get to work on the artwork, producing a page or more a day. The following week, I got photocopies of the chapter first thing in the morning, read through it, and then telephoned Phil with notes on specific panels. Usually, the changes were to do with clarity of storytelling. Having seen what Phil had drawn - and he added a tremendous amount of additional detail and subtlety into the work - I reacted to it and incorporated elements into future chapters.

So, on the day I received the photocopies, Phil would be making changes whilst I wrote the next six pages quick enough to get them into the post that afternoon, so that the process could be repeated until the book was finished. Inevitably, I messed up. On one chapter, Phil delivered the pages as written and I was desperately unhappy about it. It just didn't work - I had broken up the timeline to such a degree that it was as clear as mud. So I rewrote it using as many of the existing panels as possible. I'm sure that Phil curses me to this day for that chapter because although it was my mistake he was the one who had to pay for it.

The design of the comics, including the covers (which were hand separated colours) and the title pages, were all done by Phil, and these are really, really superb.

ELLIOTT: As I say, Paul and I discussed the comic at great length and the creative process was quite fluid, with me being able to offer suggestions with impunity.  Not all were greeted with enthusiasm but none were dismissed out of hand and there was always a mutual agreement of how the comic developed.  It’s inevitable that an artist will want to inject some of their ideas and feelings into the story and as long as it doesn’t disrupt the writer’s vision that’s how it should be.  There’s a scene where Jack persuades the girl to leave her apartment and they have their backs to each other, barely touching hands and when Eddie Campbell saw that panel, he commented on the hands, saying, “That was your idea, wasn’t it?”

CONTACT CULTURE

 

Given the nature of their collaboration, it’s not surprising that Duncan’s words and Elliott’s pictures are as tightly locked as if they came from one hand. The execution from one chapter to the next is quite skillful for a first time team.

I couldn’t pinpoint whether Elliott's style was a result of aesthetic epiphany or just a change of pace, but it stands apart from what he did before and after. His work became more stark, even a bit less fussy, but it never lost any sign of subtle expression.

ELLIOTT: Second City was my first attempt at drawing a conventional US-style comic book and it was always in my mind that if it were do well commercially I needed to adapt my existing drawing style. The main change was that I used a brush and more black ink – Paul had interviewed Will Eisner for Arken Sword and he kept reminding me what Eisner said about the use of black ink, which was something along the lines of you can never use enough of it. I also used a dry brush and stippling as the comic progressed making the art rougher, in keeping with the tone of the story. There are still elements of the European ligne-claire and it’s still quite cartoonish and stylized in places – Jack’s hair for instance, with its reference to one of my own characters, Gimbley – but it’s probably more grounded in a traditional US comic book style than my previous work, owing as much to Caniff, Eisner and Toth as to Hergé, Benoit or Hernandez.  This fresh approach would become more apparent in subsequent books like Illegal Alien and Bluebeard and it’s only recently, with Contraband and the new Tupelo book that I’ve returned to my more obvious clear-line influences. 

The only other comic from the same era with shared sensibilities as Second City is Mr. X. They’re minor details: the city as a character, the lone protagonist trying to save it all, the futuristic landscape. When asked about the similarities between Second City and Mr. X, the creators’ difference of opinion reflects the fact that those similarities are strictly surface level.

ELLIOTT: We were trying something different in Second City but there were definite nods to Mr X. It’s fair to say that the style and design of the original 4 issue mini series owed a lot to Mr. X and Watchmen. I liked the way that those comics, and others, used design in such an effective way and I still remember the thrill of seeing each issue of Watchmen – Alan’s elegant prose, Dave’s artwork, John’s colours and the overall design. We never got so close with Second City, but we tried. Harrier gave us a pretty free rein but I wish now that I’d been more positive and refused to have any advertising in the comic and extended the designs onto the back covers.

DUNCAN: Not really. Mr. X, the character, was an enigma and we don't really get inside his head, whereas the whole point about Second City is that we know and feel what's happening to Jack. In fact, I met Mr. X creators Dean Motter and Seth at a convention in 1986 and they immediately saw that Second City was a completely different beast. And you have to remember that Phil was drawing these sort of landscapes a long time before Mr. X was first published in 1984.

If any comic influenced me at the time, other than Phil's Gimbley comics, I'd probably say it was Alan Moore and David Lloyd's V for Vendetta, not only for its tone and message, but for its 9 panel grid system. Second City was published bimonthly from November 1986, just two months after Watchmen started coming out, so readers may think think that the grid system came from that, but it's definitely from V for Vendetta, which was first published in Warrior in 1982.

BLACK AND WHITE

Duncan’s writing is structurally strong and carefully executed, its voice far from precious, but it is the story’s warm tone that balances the comic’s initial coldness. Whatever well of inspiration Duncan drew from, it didn’t strike me as the same one used by comic book writers of the time.

DUNCAN: The theme of the series was how a man finds and maintains his humanity in the face of a cold and uncaring environment. Since Jack, the central character was a morose and laconic individual, he wasn't going to explain much through dialogue, so I opted for a voiceover. This also linked it stylistically to film noir, so it all worked out for the best.

As for rhythm of the text, it really comes from music. I was listening to a lot of Talking Heads, Joy Division, Velvet Underground, The Doors, Iggy Pop, etc. and I was picking tracks and words from the lyrics to get the flow of the text on the page. So, for me, there was a soundtrack for the book as I was writing it, but now, 25 years later, I couldn't for the life of me tell you what the tracks were now.

The rhythm of the chapters was interesting because the 6-page format forced me to jump to a particular moment or turning point in the overall narrative without adhering to a linear story structure. So I could begin a chapter a day, month, or year after the previous chapter, and then fill in pertinent information as I went along. We played with this a lot. In the second issue you can guess at the passage of time by Jack's broken arm going from cast to sling to bandage over the chapters - an idea borrowed from Jack Nicholson's slit nose in Chinatown. Also, the references and remarks about previous events change complexion in the light of Jack's emotional state. This playing with time and memory gives the series an unusual feel, I think.

I cannot speak for Phil, but I was definitely going through the 'alienated and alone' period of angst that I guess a lot of young adults go through as they are growing up. In childhood, the world is comforting and safe. Everything is done for you. Then, when you have to go out into the wide world, you begin to see it in a different light, as a place of possible danger and despair.  You realize that people are not as straight-forward and honest as you would assume - that people can be hypocrites and self-serving. And also that dreams and life plans don't always turn out as you may wish. So, for me - and I can only say this now in hindsight since it was purely unconscious on my part at the time - the arc of the story was a realization that the world was so, and how do you deal with it as an individual.  

EPICENTRE

In every chapter, meaning every six comic book pages, Paul Duncan looked to reach profound human truths through his stories and he achieved that. It's rare for a comic to hit that note once, let alone by a young writer/cartoonist, but he and Phil Elliott sustained it without any posturing. 

Second City transcended the genre it was using; the noir trappings worked in their favor as Paul and Phil created something unique. The fact that the issue I found had been shuffled about between hundreds and thousands of deservedly forgettable comics is depressing. That’s just the way things are given the attention span of popular culture and the arbitrary gloss of popularity. However, distinguished works such as Second City deserve to be re-evaluated and put in front of a newer, sharper audience. Slave Labor Graphics released a now out of print collected edition back in ’92, but at least the individual issues can still be found pretty easily. It’s a work that should still be in print. It's a work that's too viable and interesting and beautiful not to be. 

                     
ELLIOTT: I’m still very pleased with how the comic turned out. I enjoyed drawing it and take great pride in the fact that someone like you wants to know more about the comic, 25 years after the original mini-series appeared. It’s appeared in book form twice with talk of it being reprinted again - there are issues we dealt with in the comic that are almost more relevant now than they were then and I like to think it has stood the test of time well. 

DUNCAN: Rereading Second City after 25 years, and despite seeing many faults in the writing, I'm still immensely proud of it, and think that it makes for an interesting read. There is complexity in its arrangement and themes, as well as in its style of storytelling. At the time I dreamed of writing many comics for many people, but all my efforts were in vain, and it just didn't happen. I'm now living a completely different life than the one I planned, so I guess the theme of the comic managed to prophesy what would happen to me in real life. 

--Michel Fiffe, 2011

Stunt Casting: Michel Fiffe On The Best Jaime Hernandez Comic Of All Time

What follows is a conversation between The Factual Opinion and Michel Fiffe, the cartoonist responsible for Zegas, Fut Miso & Panoroma, the interviewer responsible for The Beat's Fiffe Files, and the editor responsible for Savage Dragon's Twisted Funnies. Michel is also responsible for two "Master Posts" focusing on the work of The Hernandez Brothers. (One, Two)

The impetus for this conversation came about due to the shared belief between Fiffe and Tucker Stone that the most recent issue of Love and Rockets contains the greatest work of Jaime Hernandez' already legendary career.

The comics contained in Love and Rockets New Stories # 3 are heavily spoiled below.

The Factual Opinion: It struck me when you and I were talking about volume 3 (before you read it) that you weren't as excited for it, after having read volumes 1 and 2. Am I correct on that?

Michel Fiffe: I may have been playing it cool or something, but I doubt it because I'm pretty unabashed about my love for the series. You're probably thinking about Cav. I sold him on the first 2, and he was pretty much done with Jaime's superhero wrap up.

TFO: How'd you feel going into this one then? I hadn't really enjoyed some of Gilbert's stuff in the last two volumes, and I kind of felt like what they were doing wasn't working for the format. Jamie's super-hero stuff felt like something that needed to come out more frequently, that it was more of a serialized pleasure. The first two collections felt like the Brothers were atonally mashed against one another--but with volume three, all of those complaints were out of the window. All of their contributions complemented the other so well. I didn't dislike the first two volumes, and I wouldn't say I was disappointed in them either. They were a great way to check in, but I just felt that the wait...if I'm going to wait a year for them, and I really don't mind waiting a year for them, the same way I don't mind waiting on Woodring, Ware, Clowes & Ryan--I just would prefer to read something that doesn't leave it hanging, the way the super-hero stuff in Volume 1 did.

Fiffe: Oh, yeah, the superhero stuff... maybe Jaime wanted to have a cliffhanger and make you come back for more. It's a serialization mentality. Or maybe the story grew out of proportion? I assume that they both work on whatever type of stories they feel like, regardless of format. Meaning that the format isn't going to dictate the story no matter what. However, I think that for this 3rd installment, this third issue, they may have been aware of the restrictions of new schedule and presentation. Ultimately, I think it's a minor issue for them. I could be wrong.

TFO: The cover for volume 3 really breaks me up, now that i've read it. Whereas the cover for New Stories Volume 1 feels like a pretty simple "let's crack this open and see what's inside" and the cover for Volume 2 seems like a colored page from "Hypnotwist", the cover for number three is just incredibly painful--the adults (authority? safety?) looking off at the distance at a puckered blue anus (maybe, probably not, sorry) while Perla looks right at the reader and Calvin looks off to the side, seemingly unaware of what's coming (and that's probably true, because Perla's rainbow shirt indicates that they just moved in)--this cover is way more involved in what's behind the pages than the first two volumes were.

Fiffe: You see that as an anus?

TFO: I said I was sorry.

Fiffe: Huh. Well, I see your point and agree completely. I don't think every cover has to signify anything too deep. It depends on the story.

TFO: Oh, it doesn't have to at all.

 

Fiffe: Speaking of the impact of the #3 cover reminds me of the cover of # 29, with Beto's rooster, which is one of my favorite covers of all time. It's both iconic and makes more sense after you've read the story. The first "New Stories" cover was pretty and interesting, an iconic first issue cover.

TFO: Fantagraphics really should put together a fancy collection of all of the old Love and Rockets covers. Look, I don't disagree that New Stories #1 has a good cover. But this one here, for #3...that's a GREAT cover.

Fiffe: Yeah, it's completely heartbreaking and expertly composed. Calvin off to the side.... Esther just... standing there with this gaze... it's beautiful. The first two covers were solid and eye catching, but my reading the story didn't enhance my feelings for them, not the way this one does. #3's cover is... is... is perfect too strong a term?

TFO: I don't think perfect is too strong. Look at everything--that background color versus the black line that has the red letters on it, forming the title and then compare it to the covers for volume 1 and 2...This new one pops. It's so strong, it feels fresh.

Fiffe: #2 pops really well I think, especially in today's "stands" so to speak, but #3 really did it for me.

TFO: Yeah, I'm kind of being a little silly. This is a great vs. awesome vs. perfect debate. You want to talk about these stories in order? Or should we jump right to Jamie?

Fiffe: Yes, let's move on. But let's do it in order. It's only fair.

TFO: Okay: "Scarlet by Starlight". This might have my favorite last couple of panels of any Gilbert story I've read since Heartbreak Soup. When the guy says "not any more!" I actually laughed out loud, which is a statement I think I hate more than anything when people use it as a description of praise. But that's what happened!

Fiffe: Yeah, it was good, that line. I thought the whole thing was pretty solid, I don't know... I liked it fine. Beto has this thing, this ability to make his dialogue seem so brisk and natural yet it tells you just enough.

TFO: Pardon me for being uneducated in all of the various strands of history, but this is a Fritz movie they haven't mentioned before, right?

Fiffe: I don't believe so. I honestly lose track of all of the B-movies within the story. And pardon ME, but was that even Fritz? I thought she only appeared in the one pager movie scene in the second story.

TFO: I think it's Fritz, isn't it? That isn't her at the start of "Killer*SadGirl*Star", when all the guys are trying to convince Killer to do a sequel/remake to a Scarlet movie they just watched a clip of?

Fiffe: Yeah, it may be Fritz, but I don't recall her being mentioned or shown without fur on her face. Who knows? Let's not get tangled up in this.

TFO: Of course. There's a lot in "Scarlet by Starlight" that's just straight up funny, which I think is so far getting ignored because of how nasty it gets--I guess kiddie-rape is something that just never works for some people--but when the guy blows his brains out while screaming (with a laser pistol) or when the other guy says "I told the truth about him" after giving a speech praising the molester's "love of all children"--it's a black humor school, to the extreme. When you get near the end, and the main guy is laying on the ground holding himself in the fetal position while the girl drives/flies the two of them home--there's so much here that I thought was hilarious.

Fiffe: Oh, yeah... it's funny as shit. And Beto made me care a little about these characters I've never seen before. Which begs the question, is this issue SO GOOD to us because we're familiar with the characters? I don't think so, but a case could be made.

TFO: Not for me. Calvin was able to break my heart in about 15 ways, and I don't remember him at all. I'm jumping ahead, but that's my feeling on it.

Fiffe: Good point. I didn't remember him either. I also didn't feel the need to rifle through my own back issue to find out so I guess I answered my own question.

TFO: But if we're going to speak of people we're familiar with, maybe it's time to talk about "Love Bunglers Part One"?

Fiffe: Could I say that I really hate dream sequences?

TFO: Go right ahead! I'm no friend of dream sequences.

Fiffe: I hate them, they're cheap plot devices. Having said that, I totally bought into this one. Jaime really captured the horror of that kind of dream.

TFO: I've re-read this volume four times now, and I felt like that dream sequence was a kind of synthesis of the experimental comics that Gilbert is more well-known for. Specifically, reading it again reminded me of "Hypnotwist", Sloth, but not in a way that felt like Jamie was "pulling a Beto", more that he was utilizing a tactic he doesn't resort to as often as Gilbert does. When he wants to go fantastic, he usually does super-heroes and sci-fi, right?

Fiffe: Sure, sure. But Jaime has pulled this kind of thing off recently, with Maggie's nightmares? Those were genuinely creepy. But yeah, it's a sensibility that Jaime doesn't usually apply to his stories.

TFO: Yeah, I don't mean to imply it's his first time or anything like that. But the nudity, the fear on her face when she's sliding--there's something in there that strikes me as a Beto comic.

Fiffe: Oh, yeah, yeah. For me, I just noticed that he rarely pulls this kinda thing. When Maggie gets to the bottom of the stem and realizes she's just as high as she was when she started, that's the kind of detail that you can only find in that kind of nightmare. It's nice to see Jaime pull it off alongside the stuff he's known for... and make it all work well together.

TFO: Oh god, and he totally nails the way it feels to be sinking into something when you're trying to float, like if you're on an inner tube that deflates in the middle of a lake. When she sinks into the middle of the leaf and says "i finally make it over to my stomach"--i'm not scared of heights, but that panel made me feel a little sick. What about the Calvin appearances in Part One? Did you have any inkling of who he was and what he was doing when you read this the first time?

Fiffe: Ha! No way. At that point, I had no idea what to expect from the story. I was surprised at how many points of views Jaime juggled and it never seemed forced.

TFO: I was a little bit lost the first time reading through it--I couldn't remember where Maggie was at with the guys in the course of All Love and Rockets Stories Ever--but I really wanted to know what was going on with that guy, why he was skulking around like that, bugging the tenants, hiding his face. The first time through, I thought he must be another wanna-be suitor, just one of a nastier variety. I liked it fine, but I think it gets most of its power (outside of the dream sequence) from when you've finished the whole book and gone back to it. How about you?

Fiffe: Well, yeah, that's the thing. Calvin isn't even called out by name until the end. I thought he was just a creep or a stalker, like bad news was definitely gonna happen. But there's NO WAY we could've known who he was, and Jaime played that up perfectly. And then when Maggie confronts him at the end of Part 1, that was so telling... but we didn't know WHY. All we knew is that Maggie knew SOMEBODY was there. Was he a regular stalker, was he just a homeless person she felt bad for?

TFO: Yeah, the way he hides his face could go a bunch of different ways when you read it the first time. There's no specific indication of who he is, how he knows her. He could just be the regular homeless guy that she's tasked with running off the property. It's genius, makes the part where his identity is revealed in "Part Two" that much more painful. It's just a throwaway moment where his idea of what life is like for Maggie is presented as a sad little fantasy (because he assumes she's dating the one guy who "treated her right"). That part hurts so fucking bad.

Fiffe: I gotta say, Jaime has the same mastery over dialogue as his brother. That old argument of "Jamie draws better and Beto is the better writer" is a bunch of horsheshit that exposes the cretins that don't really "get" "comics" "storytelling".

TFO: I have zero patience or interest in the lets-compare-the-Brothers game. Self-indulgence is a lot of fun when you're talking about shitty comics, but when you're talking about these two guys, you should probably get out of your own fucking way and just look at the panels for a while. They're brilliant, I wouldn't ask them to change a thing. Sorry, I'm ranting.

Fiffe: Rant away. No, don't! Let's no waste any more time on that shitty, archaic, ass backwards argument. Those people probably hate comics.

TFO: Let's get "Killer*Sad Girl*Star" out of the way. I kind of didn't care that much about it? I felt like it was a bit of Speak of the Devil (murder in the sand dunes!). It was just okay.

Fiffe: Beto has this weird expression that he gives his characters, like a glossed over look. Almost like models in a jeans commercial or something, one of those "pensive in the wind" looks. So that "pensive" look made me misread the murder scenes in the story, which was purposeful, I think. I haven't fallen for Killer the way I have for Fritz, Petra, or especially Pipo. They're such great characters.

TFO: Your pensive weirdness really shows up in the beach cop's face. Such a strange looking character. Is it weird that I couldn't tell if the cop was a girl or a guy?

Fiffe: It had boobs! They call her "she"!

TFO: I just keep waiting on Killer to WANT something. She seems to bounce around like a pinball, no real personality beyond an affected disinterest.

Fiffe: Killer's a kid. That's no excuse AT ALL (especially considering "Browntown"), but I dunno...Maybe she's that kind of character, like an open kind of thing. Lots of people are like that, aloof with a lot of mystery and promise. Usually, their act fails. I hope Killer's doesn't. In this case, I think Beto's material may work best once read all at once. As opposed to his NEW LOVE stuff, these broader human dramas should be read as a whole, not as chapters.

Man, I barely recognized Hector! He didn't age well.

TFO: I think my favorite panel in this one is the part where the ugly school girl says "Few actors win awards for playing retards any more." The looks on their faces are so fucking strange.

Fiffe: I take that back, Hector aged fine. He looks good. Usually frizzy hair and stubble means moral bankruptcy. Hector's always had stubble. Why am I talking about this?

TFO: Because Hector is awesome and fun to think about.

Fiffe: Or it's just a weird drawing. You know, Beto's new art kinda reminds me of late 70s/80s Ditko. He's locked into this strict language of showing things. It's VERY strict.

TFO: Is that the Creeper stuff? I can't place what you're connecting there. Shade the Changing Man?

Fiffe: No, further. Sorta like Shade... more like all the horror stuff he did for DC, his Captain Universe stuff, his Renegade Press stuff...It's not stiff at all, I don't believe. But there's this really "set in their ways" kind of approach to drawing.

TFO: Okay, I don't know that stuff that well. The most Ditko-y thing I've seen recently is that DJ Bryant guy in MOME. That panel where the guy is screaming about hating his wife and there's all those half-faces and angles drawn into it.

Fiffe: Yeah, that's more like 70's Warren, even Charlton Ditko.

TFO: I'll trust you on this one. It does seem like Gilbert is really locked in when he's drawing Killer. Almost every drawing of her has her posing, which could go both ways--she could just be doing that because she's a vain kid, a wanna-be model/actress who is imitating what she believes she's supposed to look like. Or it could just be that locked-in language is something Gilbert wants to use for this story.

Fiffe: I usually notice that trait in Beto's work when he draws his Palomar material. His other stuff can be very fluid and bizarre and experimental. I know that a "wonky" style wouldn't work for Palomar, but that's not what I mean. "Duck Feet" was much looser than say... the High Soft Lisp material.

TFO: Are we ready for this thing? This "Browntown"?

Fiffe: You mean the Best Story in the Universe? Sure.

TFO: Here's me on my mountain: this is my favorite thing I've ever read by Jamie Hernandez, and when I read it together with "Love Bunglers", I think it's the best thing I've read by Jamie Hernandez. At the same time, there's some serious gaps in my reading experience with Jamie Hernandez, so I'm kind of dependent on you to make an argument for why that's true--I can only back it up by pointing at things like "Death of Speedy" (which I love) and saying that this had more panels that made my jaw drop, and that I felt a more keen sense of emotional pain and unbearable sadness in this than his prior stuff.

Fiffe: OK, let's see... He's had some exemplary stories out there. Recently, too. "Browntown" does have panel after panel of heartbreak. I think the level of remorse and sympathy we may feel during this story, we may have felt in varying degrees in reading his other highlights. "Flies on the Ceiling" is one. "Everybody Loves Me, Baby" is another [Penny Century #7]. Those were my top 2. "Browntown" is just more complex, more involved, more ambitious, and structurally tighter. This is not to say that those previous works AREN'T, I'm just saying that Jaime's just gotten better at it. Here's an artist at the top of his form, telling some of the most mature and compelling stories in ANY medium... and the thing is, I could've said that 5 years ago, I could have said that 10 years ago. This new one is a masterpiece, and although I feel biased saying that because I like the Bros.' work so much, I think it will hold up as a work of art forever. I hate to sound like I'm a soapbox or something, but this medium is tremendously lucky to have this kind of story in existence. It's an example of not only "Pure" comics, but "Perfect" comics. Let's deconstruct it further! I have a few things to say about drawing, but it can wait. Have at it...

TFO: My favorite panels are the one where Maggie is finishing her first letter while her little brother is showing her his toy car and the panel where Calvin is crawling out of the cave and crying, and--well. There's other ones, but those are the two that I fell in love with the most. Those panels reached up and grabbed me by the throat. My only concern when going through this is that I think it's going to be easy for some readers to get trapped in treating it as a story about rape, when I think it's a lot more nuanced in the way it handles the situation. I mainly feel that nuance in the way Calvin, because he's a little boy, honestly believes that he has to keep suffering the way he does so that he can "protect" his sister from the same kind of assault. It isn't until the very end of the story that he finally snaps and does something completely for himself--killing his rapist--that the magnitude of what he's suffered is made totally clear. It's built up for a while, slowly, in the two panels where we see his age change during between assaults, or when we see how the kids are all at a movie and he's the only one not looking at the screen (that's a fucking drawing right there, how difficult it must be to have that kind of distinction between what the eyes of four black and white characters are focused on), and it all builds to the violence. And that violence is horrifying, it's not a satisfying moment in the slightest. And it shouldn't be, because this isn't a rape/revenge story about a kid who gets justice. It takes one panel transition for him to start crying. There's no satisfaction to be had.

Fiffe: Yeah, the handling of his point of view is done very respectfully, and in a very sobering way. There's is nothing romantic about his revenge at all. I didn't get off at his revenge. It was a really moving scene, totally unpredictable and yet, it made perfect sense.

TFO: I don't want to ignore the stuff with Maggie either, but it's hard not to go right to the Calvin story. I think there's something kind of magnificent about that part where she starts to climb on her dad's lap, only for him to respond with such venom--he may be cheating on his wife, but he has an ideal of purity for his children. It makes it that much worse, him having that, while being completely ignorant of what's happening to his son. And yet, when he shows up at the end and says "You have to come right now"--I can't help but forgive him immediately. Calvin could've come back from what he'd suffered so far, but it's impossible to be optimistic about him coming back from the kind of violence he unleashes on his tormentor, no matter how young he is.

Fiffe: Maggie's father was awesomely portrayed. Everyone was, even the bus driver in the one panel picking Maggie up for school. But I don't think anyone could've noticed Calvin's predicament. He bottled it up completely. I predict that you're right, and that some people, even die hard L&R fans, won't be able to see past a rape story, no matter how it's handled. Which is a shame becasue it's SO NOT about that. It's a major part of the story, but it's not in After School Special mode either, which most comics seems to fall into.

TFO: That's exactly what i'd worry about with it. We're so inured at this point to expect stories dealing with this subject matter to be either rape/revenge exploitation or to be an after-school-special sort of warning stories. The expectation for this subject matter to be handled poorly is totally understandable, especially when you're talking about comic books. But this isn't one of those at all! It's not a story about rape motivating some kind of badass vengeance, it's not a story for perverts to get off on, it's not a story that pretends that sexual violence of this sort will somehow result in a codified response shared by all victims--I finish reading "Browntown" and don't have feel any sense of surety of where Calvin's life will go next. I feel confused about his future, and that's far more mature an outcome than I'd ever have if someone said "this story has a bunch of molestation at the core".

Fiffe: The Bros. really handle that kind of stuff well. Things that everyone else exploits to further whatever agenda they may have, such as suicide, date rape, spousal abuse, the Bros. handle all of it extremely well. That's hardly the case for any sort of media, y'know? It's all taglines and topic of the week. Look at Jaime and Beto's respective contributions to the STRIP AIDS benefit anthology from the 80s--they're the only ones that don't even mention AIDS. As a result, their stories make a much stronger impact that the others. It may seem petty to nitpick that particular anthology, but I'm just referencing it as an example.

TFO: I'd attribute some of his success here to the fact that it's a one-man-show--when you're dealing with this kind of subject matter for television, film, even mainstream-y comics, you've got more people in the room, and everybody is going to have some kind of point of view on it, and they're all going to feel the need to make it something they're comfortable with. Jamie only has to achieve his own goals, and he's not trying to tell a story "about rape", he's trying to tell a story about one specific character: Calvin. This isn't a story about what happens to boys who suffer this kind of violence. It's about ONE BOY, his family. It doesn't have an agenda beyond that. I think that's part of why it isn't "offensive" in the way that it is whenever a super-heroes girlfriend gets assaulted.

Fiffe: Even when a super hero's girlfriend gets assaulted, it's not to make a point, it's to titillate the audience. But this comic isn't for that audience anyway. It's almost a moot point. It's kind of like when presumably adult comic book readers dismiss Love & Rockets as "that lesbian" comic. No amount of great storytelling is gonna burst that moronic bubble.

TFO: Can you talk a little bit more about what you meant by "pure" and "perfect" comics?

Fiffe: Sure. "Pure" comics use the elements inherent in comics, right? That's not an easy thing to pull off, being that most comics don't really utilize the advantages of the form. "Pure" comics don't necessarily mean good comics, either; there are plenty of "pure" comics that can have thin stories, idiotic stories, artwork that falls against the story, and yet they still appropriate the things that make comics unique... and even if "pure" is difficult to achieve, that's not enough. However, If you have a story that's mature and compelling, funny, heartbreaking--all the things we've been talking about here--and it's all handled in a masterful way that never talks down to the reader or disrespects the reader's intelligence, AND it utilizes "pure" comics trait? That's "perfect".

TFO: Can you nail down for me what it is that makes this one "pure"?

Fiffe: Ok, what makes this "pure" is the timing of it, the specific "beats" of the story and the way it leads the reader. It's deceptively simple, you don't notice it, but you're not supposed to. A lot of it has to do with the drawing. The kind of emotion you can't get from an actor, or prose, or any other cartoonist whether it be "cartoony" or "photo-realistic". Jaime's drawings aren't just pretty pictures, they're components of the comic. Of comics. It's in the page design, it's the shift between styles within a scene or even a panel, it's freezing the perfect moments to amplify what he's trying to say. He draws that. He draws those perfect moments, even with all the imperfections they sometimes imply.

TFO: What you're describing reminds me of how I felt reading Weathercraft, that sense that Jim Woodring is concerned with the rate at which the reader moves through the page. There's a definite sense that he must have thought about how the eye is going to move, and since he didn't use dialog as a crutch to dictate how much time you spend on the panel, he had to determine pacing with the layouts, with the parts of the action he's stopping to capture. Sorry to interrupt.

Fiffe: S'cool. You don't get that "pure" kind of involved mastery anywhere else, I mean in any other form. And a large part of this achievement is in Jaime's drawing, in his actual skill as an artist. If this were drawn any differently, it would be completely different, obviously. It's all in his skill, his old school loyalty to "Good" drawing. I don't want to define "good", so maybe let's use another word without watering down my meaning. How's "well crafted"?

TFO: That works, and acknowledging the fact that Jamie is committed to being a great craftsman is always worth the time. I'm sure he has to rush stuff at times, but his line never really seems to suffer. I can't think of "unfinished" work that he's put out before its time.

Fiffe: I was fortunate enough to chat a little bit with Jaime at the last Mocca. He thought it was funny that it's always the guys that can't draw that rail against good drawing. Sorry... "well crafted" drawing.

TFO: My general anecdote about that was when my dad looked at some of JH Williams work in Detective, read an issue, and then said that the story was pretty predictable and not very interesting. I waited for him to mention the art, and when he didn't, I told him that the art was the big draw on this one. He said "isn't it the artist's job to draw it well? Why would you read one of these things that wasn't drawn well?"

Fiffe: HA! Yeah, seriously. But "drawing it well" ...I dunno, it's gonna get ugly defining that. I define good drawing by the specific strengths of the artists, generally.

TFO: I just define "good art" as what I like. I know that's not at all the right way to do it, but I've got other hobbies that interest me more than figuring out some codified rules of aesthetic "bestness". Plenty of other people are more interested in that than I am, they're better at it too. They can have it.

Fiffe: Here's the rub: "Browntown" would NOT be as effective with an artist of lesser caliber. With Jaime...look, there are artists that are undeniable. You can't say SHIT about them. Toth is another one. But Jaime tells relevant, poignant, and hilarious stories. He's left, as you noted, to create on his own, without being held back by a committee. He's the best example of a true modern artist creating on his own terms and benefiting from such freedom. What it comes down to is this: there's a subtlety and naturalism to every single line that defines every single character in his stories. Calvin looking off while the movie plays, the little brother's hand while Perla is writing a letter, Maggie's face when she discovers her dad cheating... it all exists because of Jaime's unparalleled draftsmanship. I tell you, nothing has humbled me and inspired me as much as this story. It aims high and we all gotta catch up.

TFO: I totally agree. Jamie's always been a giant talent, and I think it's worth noting how much of what we consider "comics" to be seems tied up in the kind of work he's produced. It's incredible to see him still accelerating to a higher level, considering how great he's been already.

Fiffe: Yeah, it's actually kind of unbelievable. People at Mocca kept saying how humble he is, how nice... "what a nice, humble guy". Sure he's nice, but he knows he's good. He knows he can run circles around all of us. That's besides the point here, I know... but he ain't humble, and why should he be? He's the best.

TFO: Humility is just a personality trait. It doesn't have anything to do with being an artist. It's nice if you just want to talk to somebody, I guess. But the current popularity in comics of figuring out "who the nice guys are" is a fucking joke. It's supposed to be an artform, not a social club. Know your role.

Fiffe: No, it doesn't, you're right, but I'm putting it in the context of the conversations I had with folks that met him. They've probably met legendary artists who were total dicks, so they equate good manners with being artistically humble. Jaime may feel humbled at times, I'm sure...Wait, it's not a social club? I've been going to the wrong parties. Anyway, how about that ending, huh?

TFO: The ending is just another level of pain in a lot of ways--besides the thing that came up above, where Calvin is still worried about Maggie after all these years, there's also the bludgeoning gut-punch when you find out that Maggie never found out what happened to Calvin, that he didn't really grow up with her, that his life fell apart before he could have a chance to really have one. But it's also another mash-up of brilliant, subtle art--the way that Jamie uses the narration to tell you what Maggie & Ray talked about (and they talk about a bunch of important stuff, stuff like "i don't want to date you" and "my life is a trainwreck") while just showing all these coy little facial tics that degenerate into Maggie looking hollowed out by life--that's a brilliant ending. So amazing, like she's accessed all the pain she has for Calvin without knowing why, without even knowing that he's right outside, watching over her in his own sad little way.

Fiffe: Right, we're wrapped up with Maggie and Ray's relationship and all of its complexities, but it's signed off with Calvin's presence. I have to say, the last page made me cry. I wasn't bawling, but I had to stand up and open my eyes really wide and pace around my living room for a few minutes. It took me a while to really absorb what was happening. When was the last time a comic made you do that? If ever?

TFO: Don't Go Where I Can't Follow tore me apart. I didn't really go to that place when this ended, but I'll own up to a disconnect on my part, as I was caught up in thinking "what a perfect ending".

Fiffe: Well, it was the reveal that got me. I totally didn't see it coming.

TFO: Oh, I didn't see it coming either!

Fiffe: Calvin's slouch alone is telling. Such a life he's had. I read it in one shot. And only once with a few scenes that I re-read. I was completely immersed. Kat thought I was reading porn from the other room.

TFO: I envy you a bit for going into it so deeply. I feel like I was reading this a bit analytically the first time through. Oh, I've got something to say, but let me put in perspective first: I trust Jamie to do the right thing by his art, his creations, characters, completely. But I really hope that he doesn't unleash a bunch of "untold Calvin stories" the next time one of these books comes out. This was just so perfect.

Fiffe: I don't think he will. He never really does that. I think the characters couldn't be in better hands.

TFO: I'm thinking we're reaching a good endpoint ourselves. Would you be willing to tell me what kind of impact you think this comic might have on your own work?

Fiffe: Well, I'm at this weird point in trying to tell the stories I want to tell. I can't think in slick high concept terms, and that's just the way the culture is right now, no matter where you go. So I just create the comics that I'd like to read. I want to tell stories that ring true, that aren't cliched log lines. Jaime is the best example of doing just that, of just creating his own thing... have you read his Art of Book?

TFO: No, I haven't.

Fiffe: The part that resonated with me was around the time period right before he started Love & Rockets. He felt like he was trying to fit into the comics biz, trying to belong, and trying to find his place in the comics world...and he just couldn't fit in. Reading about this Master of Comics going through that was a little heartbreaking. But he then went on to create his own thing, on his own terms, and he hasn't looked back since. It's THAT kind of drive that made "Browntown" possible, and I truly believe this story has raised the bar. I'm actually going through a creatively frustrating period, and reading this story, reading how good comics can be, how brilliant and beautiful they can be, really cuts through all of the bullshit and all of the nonsense.

TFO: The quickest way to forget about mediocrity is to experience the form at its best. That's what this was. It's a gift.

Fiffe: Yeah, and I don't mean to sound as if I have difficulty in talking about my work, it's just that... I'm up against THAT story. We're ALL up against it. So what I meant when I said I'm not good at high concepts, well then, that's gonna have to be fine! There are far more important concerns at work here. I can't reduce my output to a quick pitch--so what? I don't think Jaime does. None of the artists I profoundly respect and admire have to do that. That's not their business as artists, as comic book storytellers.

They just create, and that's all I want to do. And Jaime always reminds me of that.

-Michel Fiffe & Tucker Stone, 2010

Ditko image one from Marvel Spotlight #11, March, 1981. Property of Steve Ditko

Ditko image two from Unexpected # 189, Feb.1979. Property of Steve Ditko

DJ Bryant image from Mome #19. Property of DJ Bryant
All other art from Love & Rockets New Stories #3. Property of Jaime & Gilbert Hernandez

 

 

 

 

 

Stunt Casting: Cliff Chiang Talks About The Things He Likes

During the conversations that ended up producing the Cliff Chiang interview at comiXology, Cliff Chiang and Tucker had a couple of "what's your favorite piece of work" regarding a laundry list of artists. While some of that conversation ended up in the comiXology article, quite a bit of it was left behind. After that article's publication, Cliff was willing to take a break from drawing (literally) and add a few more responses. What follows is a transcription of those two discussions.

The Factual Opinion: Okay, let’s start this off. What’s your favorite thing by Steve Rude? 

Cliff Chiang: That’s a tough one for me, he's worked on a lot of crap. 

TFO: Vanguard Illustrated? The encyclopedia salesman? 

Chiang: I don't know that one. 

TFO: It's great. 

Chiang: Nexus, probably. The Next Nexus, you know that one?

TFO: Yep.

Chiang: It's everything about the Nexus that you really liked. You had the moral quandry, you had him running around, Sundra got involved in a meaningful way. 

TFO: And Judah hit something. 

Chiang: Oh yeah. 

TFO: Actually I think I liked Judah most when he would drink. 

Chiang: Yeah. 

TFO: Jamie Hernandez?

Chiang: I'm trying to think of what...well, the go-to is Death of Speedy, right? Hmm. I've been reading Wigwam Bam a lot.

TFO: That's a good answer. Gilbert. 

Chiang: I really liked Sloth. A lot. There's something--as different as it was for people, I liked that he was breaking away from the Palomar stuff so much. And that bizarro split halfway through, where you get a different story...I liked that a lot. 

TFO: What about Speak of the Devil? 

Chiang: I haven't read that one yet. 

TFO: How about Troublemakers? I loved that one. Ridiculous packaging, stupid titties all over it.
Okay, David Mazzuchelli. 

Chiang: Ahhh. 

TFO: Say Star Wars, we'll leave it there. 

Chiang: X-Factor.  

TFO: The Angel story? 

Chiang: No, that's Marvel Fanfare. No, this is just regular X-Factor, one of the earlier things he did, it was fairly old school. 

TFO: With Louise Simonson? 

Chiang: Wait, that's not a real answer!

TFO: That Fanfare story is pretty great. 

Chiang: It's great. The art is way more sophisticated than the writing. That's why I couldn't say that as a real answer. Year One is the super-hero book that I love the most, and the non-super-hero book is probably Rates of Exchange. That felt like when he finally nailed that connection of between that Rubber Blanket ethos and his kind of cartoony--it wasn't aggressively stylized in one way or another. Natural. 

TFO: What did you think of City of Glass? 

Chiang: City of Glass. I like it, but it's cold. 

TFO: Cold. I can get that. Okay: Alex Toth. 

Chiang: Toth. God. When he died, I had a really hard time figuring out how to feel about it, because the guy was so fucking--he hated everything he'd ever done. And yet, if you left him to his own devices, he would do shit like Bravo For Adventure. And you know, that's not a good story. There's some really great drawing in it, but it's not a good story. Artistically, I loved the Zorro stuff, but I think what I liked the most with him was the fucking 'Ooh La La" story. 

TFO: "Ooh La La"? I don't know that one. 

Chiang: It's like two or three pages! This fucking kid makes his own flying machine, and they fly to this country called "Ooh la la" and he and his dumbass friend leave with the two princesses. It's great because it's him with a flair pen, and it's great because--it's not abstract so that the drawing falls apart. I'm giving too many two titles answers, I gotta stick with something. 

TFO: Mignola. 

Chiang: The Hellboy story with the baby. The one where the baby gets replaced with a goblin. The reason why I love that story is that one panel where they say "you don't understand, at night he says horrible things to me." And then it's just a picture of a baby. And it's great. The other thing I always remember from Mignola is The Wolves of Saint August. But that baby story is the one I like the best. 

TFO: The right answer is the monkey with a gun. 

Chiang: I do like the one with the Homunculus and the giant. 

TFO: Where he kills his brother. Art Adams! 

Chiang: Art Adams. Yeah, that's a definite sentimental favorite. It's not Longshot though. I don't have the same feeling for that. It's the Asgardian Wars. Storm with the Thor feathered helmet. 

TFO: Kevin Nowlan. 

Chiang: Nowlan would be...I think, for the writing, that Legends of the DCU issue with Robin and Superman. Kelly Puckett can really pull out a great story. 

TFO: I don't think I know that comic. 

Chiang: It's great. Batman is out of town, and Superman has tracked a bunch of gangsters to Gotham, but Batman is...just not around. He's in LA. He's in the Watchtower. Superman's in Gotham, and out of deference to Batman, he meets Gordon and Robin on a rooftop. He's like "I know this is your city, I want your permission to follow these guys." And Robin's like "Permission? You looking at me? Sure, whatever!" And so they team up, and Robin just worships Superman as a--like he's Robin's hero. But in the course of the story, he realizes how alien Superman is, with his powers and all that shit that's just out of his realm of possibility. And he realizes that the way he and Batman work together- -that works. There's a flashback to the Batcave, with him reading a comic, or watching tv, seeing this thing about Superman and saying "Did you see him? Did you meet him?" and Batman's like "Just remember. He's not human." And it's a great moment. By the end of the story, Superman is trying so hard, doing what he does, and then he realizes that when a bullet bounces off of him, that its going to blow Robin's mind...you gotta read it. It's great. 

TFO: Goran Parlov. 

Chiang: Goran! Yeah Goran's great. I feel pretty good about Goran. I feel like I sort of helped introduce him to Marvel, because I loved the stuff he was doing on this Terminator book. That was the first time I'd seen his stuff, and Jenny was looking for somebody to work with Bill Sienkiewicz on a Black Widow mini- series. Bill was going to do the first issue by himself, but after that they needed somebody really solid, and I knew that Goran's drafting was so good that he could do it and then Bill could do whatever he needed on top of it and it would be no problem. So they ended up working together, and he's been working with Axel ever since on all that Punisher stuff. Favorite thing would be...I really liked Barraccuda, for the personality, but I really liked Valley Forge, Valley Forge. 

TFO: Valley Forge is the shit. Incredible art in that one. 

Chiang: That's it. Valley Forge. 

TFO: When Frank puts on that mask, the stuff in the cemetary... 

Chiang: You know what puts it over for me is those photos that he did. They weren't referenced, you never got the sense that it was an actual photo he was taking it from, but they FELT like photos. They were composed like photos. They felt real, but they clearly weren't from anything that existed. That fucking blew my mind. And the story--it's so brutal. It's like what Tom Clancy should be. 

TFO: Guy Davis. 

Chiang: It's funny, I didn't appreciate Guy Davis for a long time. But when I was working on Human Target, Javier Pulido mentioned " i see a lot of Guy Davis in this stuff", which was weird to me, because I didn't read much Guy Davis stuff. But I understand it now. I haven't read that much BPRD stuff where I feel like he's really letting loose. But there's some really great Sandman Mystery Theater--but I know there's something else that I really like. I never read Baker Street. 

TFO: Okay, I got a guy for you: Jim Aparo. 

Chiang: As Flavor Flav said, "I got nothing for you, man." I'm familiar with his work, but nothing really springs to mind, especially since my main reference point for him is A Death In The Family. Didn't he draw some of those crazy Spectre stories? I heard those were nuts. 

TFO: Oh shit yeah, some of those Spectre stories are bone-crunching.  Okay here's a different kind of question for you: who best represents Batman for you? When you think of what he looks like, who is it that's drawing him? 

Chiang: It's weird because I would have said Mazzuchelli a few years ago, but I've come to really appreciate the larger history and the different kinds of stories. Are you telling me a JLA story? Then I see 70's Garcia Lopez. What about a moody modern piece? Maybe Kevin Nowlan. He did a Man-Bat Secret Origins stories with Jan Strnad that's pretty striking. All these takes are great and they all come to mind now. I'd say the Batman that I draw has a Year One feel, but with some modern flourishes. I always thought of Year One as being an early, cheapie Scorcese movie. What would that story look like now, with a bigger budget? 

If you say Batman Begins, I'm gonna punch you in the dick. 

TFO: Nah, my first response was Gangs of New York, which probably means Mignola. Nowlan's an interesting choice. I mostly associate him with covers (striking images, icon-play) nowadays. I can't think of a storytelling example by him off the top of my head, and that's what strikes me most when i look at Year One again. I was showing it to somebody who had never seen it at the store, and Mazz doesn't have a lot of Big Boom panels in it. It's mostly the gorgeous little vignettes, with splashes devoted to Gordon sitting on the bed, that kind of thing. 

Chiang: Yes, Year One is really best for its quiet moments. You remeber scenes being quite large in your head, and then you see it's only a third of the page. 

TFO: I tried to show a newcomer that "you're the one who shot at the cat" part, but the impact was muted. I think that's a good thing, though. It means you can't just cut and paste a panel and recreate a story. i think that's what it means. 

Chiang: No, it's true. One of the things that I find fascinating about comics is how most drawing usually falls apart a little bit if you stare at it too closely, but while you're reading it you're caught up in the flow and it's magic. It's like playing music live. You can flub a note, but as long as you don't stop and call attention to it, no one really cares. 

TFO: Let’s talk about Jack Kirby. 

Chiang: It's funny. I never really connected with Kirby the way a lot of artists do. I recognize that it's great work, but it doesn't grab me. Same thing with Eisner. I read a lot of the Fourth World stuff when I was working with Walt Simonson, and I think it's cool but I don't have a soft spot for it. 

TFO: Frank Miller? 

Chiang: Ronin. It was one of the first Frank Miller books I read. I love Dark Knight Returns, but I just loved that Miller was following his muse, doing Moebius style drawings. It's not a perfect book by any means, but i think it symbolizes a lot for me. Plus, boobs. 

TFO: Joe Kubert! 

Chiang: I thought his Silver Age Hawkman and Hawkgirl was really great, but I also love the Sgt Rock book he did with Azzarello. It's beautiful storytelling. 

TFO: Bill Sienkiewicz! 

Chiang: I think Elektra Assassin is pretty brilliant, but my sentimental favorite is the New Mutants slumber party issue. I loved that the teenagers looked and acted like kids. And on top of that you got all those crazy, powerful drawings of Warlock and his dad. It was a good mix of things. 

TFO: Kyle Baker! 

Chiang: Why I Hate Saturn. It's got such fluid cartooning combined with that ear for dialogue. It's one of the books I used to give to people who didn't read comics, but at the same time, it's not a simple work. It's just easy to read and accessible. 

TFO: Throw me an underrated artist, somebody you think doesn't get enough attention.

Cliff Chiang: That would probably be Tony Salmons. I remember seeing those great Dakota North ads when I first started reading comics, but never found those at the local 7-11, so I didn't see any more of his work until I was an adult. He's able to combine great storytelling and powerful drawing in a way that always surprises me. He's a giant, and I hope I can be that fearless someday.

TFO: Those Dakota North comics actually hold up. I bought them off of Frank Santoro at Mocca. Great dialog, best side characters ever.

Chiang: That's really interesting. Look, I don't want to be a dick, but I've got...stuff. To do. Can we wrap this up?

TFO: Oh, yeah. Uh. Let’s hit a writer and call it quits. You can't answer with Doctor 13 unless you really just hate everything else he's done. Brian Azzarello? 

Chiang: 100 Bullets is a phenomenal work and achievement, so it's hard for me to talk about it quickly. For a single issue, I think the story that really captures Brian's gifts as a writer to me is the Tangled Web issue with Crusher Hogan. He was able to find a new interesting angle on this bit character and it was just so compelling and heartbreaking.

TFO: Oh yeah, I love that comic. There's that part where he's in the kitchen with his wife

Chiang: Yeah, I read it. Are we done?

TFO: Yeah, totally.

Chiang: I'm going to hang up then, it's really late.

TFO: Oh I guess it is. I can stay up pretty late, reading comics and blogging and stuff. One time I fell asleep at my desk!

Chiang: [hangs up]

TFO: I woke up and my back really hurt, like one of those guys who is always "my back hurts". Pretty crazy. I need to make friends with one of those people who always have muscle relaxants. You know what I'm talking about? So crazy.

-Cliff Chiang, Tucker Stone, 2010

The conversation may or may not have ended the way it is described above.

Stunt Casting: Benjamin Marra Discusses The Rise Of Arsenal # 1-2

What follows is an extensive examination of the first two issues of The Rise of Arsenal, published by DC Comics, with special guest Benjamin Marra. Due to the length, it lies underneath the break.

Stunt Casting: If You Put Bullshit On Stilts, It Makes It A Lot Taller

This week's installment of talking 'bout comics has been pre-empted by an interview with Joe McCulloch, of Jog The Blog. In the interest of maintaining Sunday's normal focus, this introductory portion is a brief look at some of last week's best-selling direct market super-hero comics, which eventually becomes an odd conversation about super-hero event comics from last year. The upcoming installment will contain a discussion of Joe's recommendations from the past week.

Factual Opinion: Uncanny X-Men, number 518.

Joe McCullouch: Okay.

FO: What'd you think?

Jog: I haven't read it.

FO: Oh. Well, okay. What about Blackest Night Flash?

Jog: I haven't read it.

FO: Okay. Thor number 604! Keiron Gillen's first issue!

Jog: That's true. I haven't read it.

FO: Siege The Cabal number 1! Finally Siege has begun! Here we go, what'd you think of Siege number one, that's Brian Michael BENDIS and Michael Lark on art, what'd you think?

Jog: That is accurate. I haven't read it.

FO: Ultimate Comics Spider-Man number 5, this is the one where he has pigtails.

Jog: What issue is this, if you count the prior Ultimate Spider-Man series?

FO: Well, you have to count Ultimatum Requiem, there's two issues of that. And the previous series had 133 issues. So that would make this issue 140.

Jog: That's impressive. I haven't read it.

FO: Blackest Night Wonder Woman, this one was pretty controversial.

Jog: Is this the one where the Unknown Soldier comes back?

FO: Yes, he comes back, along with a bunch of military dudes from the graves Arlington National.

Jog: Does anyone recognize him?

FO: No.

Jog: He should be unknown.

FO: No one recognizes him.

Jog: Well, good. I'd heard about that. I haven't read it.

 FO: Dark Avengers Annual? Number one? Did you read that? It's the return of Steve Rogers.

Jog: No, I haven't read it.

FO: But it's Chris Bachalo.

Jog: That's true, but I haven't read it.

FO: Well, what about Deadpool number 898? What about that? It's called "Bring Me The Head Of MIckey Dobbs." That's a Sam Peckinpah joke.

Jog: That's good. I have seen Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia. I haven't read this comic though.

FO: Alright goddammit. Marvel Project number 4, you had to have read that.

Jog: Ah, the Golden Age people?

FO: Yeah!

Jog: I haven't read it.

FO: Haunt number 3?

Jog: I haven't read it.

 FO: The Boys number 37.

Jog: I haven't--wait, fuck, I have read that.

FO: Okay, that one was pretty strong. I get the feeling you think it needed to be funnier, by that face you're making.

Jog: Well, it's kind of a one joke comic, don't you think? Frenchie is telling his origin story, and while it's a decent enough one joke, with him giving his secret origin--which is completely ridiculous, it makes no sense--and it's based entirely on half-remembered cliches. The purpose, at the end of the issue, is that his origin doesn't make sense, that it doesn't really matter. What matters is the present, what he's doing NOW.

FO: Which is jumping out of the window to go fight more people.

Jog: Yes, and that's part of The Boys theme. Whatever good intentions people might have--people like Mother's Milk, who have good intentions--are getting a bit weary with what Butcher is doing. Frenchie is the opposite side of the coin, becuase he doesn't really think about anything. And if he does think about something, it's nonsensical and ridiculous, because what really matters is what he's doing right now. Which is beating the shit out of people, without a thought in the world. Except for his thoughts about the female, whose origin is in the next issue.

FO: That one will have an Alien reference.

Jog: Yes, it's a poster. I do like it when comics remind me of other things.

FO: I like it too. Especially when it's other genre things.

Jog: I start to cry when I read comics, so I like it when they're more like movies.

FO: That's always been my biggest complaint with comics, that they aren't enough like movies.

Jog: They should call it the director's cut.

FO: They should have commentaries. 

Jog: Someone did a commentary on an AIT Planet Lair comic book. Mantooth? Was it Mantooth?

FO: I don't know. Didn't Grant Morrison do that for the sketch variant of Final Crisis?

Jog: He annotated it in the back.

FO: That's not the same as a commentary though. I want one that's more like when VH1 used to put thought bubbles on music videos.

Jog: Yeah. Press the writer's thoughts on with stickers.

FO: Just about anything film does should be imitated in comics as often as possible.

Jog: Absolutely! If they can get these fucking things to move, then we've got it. If they could literally move in front of my eyes, like Tom Hanks in Big.

FO: Not on a youtube type site though, I'm not interested in motion comics. I'm interested in a paper product that has motion.

Jog: Exactly. I could then press my face against it, because it's mysterious.

FO: Like a pop up book, but more kinetic.

Jog: Let's not edit any of that last part.

FO: Nova 32! A Realm of Kings issue!

Jog: Let me check. No, I haven't read it.

FO: X-Force Annual 1.

Jog: I haven't read it.

FO: Neither have I.

Jog: Oh.

FO: It's called Blood Brothers. We could read it.

Jog: No.

 FO: Sweet Tooth issue 4?

Jog: I read the first issue of that.

FO: You did? I thought you bailed on that.

Jog: No, I looked at it. It was okay. I liked that his art style fits in with the stereotypical Vertigo color scheme. Like, "Finally! We've got a dude who really writes a lot of comics set in rural-ish areas, something really in tune with nature! We can just go crazy with grass and mud!"

I think Jeff Lemire does offer Vertigo something of a valuable perspective, because--at risk of getting stereotypical--he doesn't have a very Vertigo-poppish thing going on. He's not American, right?

FO: He's Canadian.

Jog: Right. He's got a subdued style, where the natural world is interacting with weird stuff. His art is delicate in a way, with the way things like twigs are arranged juxtaposed with unnatural scenes--I just think it's worthwhile that Vertigo has something with that perspective. Unfortunately, I can't say I've liked any of his work from Vertigo so far. The Nobody was a Vertigo traditional, a re-working of old stories. I thought it wasn't a very deep book, and while it had some nice bits with the art and some nice passages, a lot of it was too on the nose for me. Sweet Tooth didn't really capture my attention either.

FO: I've read the first three issues. I'd guess my complaint is that too little happens in it. I realize that's a shallow complaint a lot of people have, the "decompression" aspect, that a minute is expanded to an entire comic. With Sweet Tooth, it struck me as something that could only work in a collected format, it just has so little occurring that it's almost intolerable in serialized chunks. But maybe it's the character's eyes that just kill me. Something about them, the way there's so plaintive and open, it's just too dopey. I'd like to hit him.

Jog: Here's something. I read the first issue of Blackest Night, and that's as far as I read on that. I'd like to hear your thoughts on that, because you're following it, and I'm not. Because...it's funny. With Blackest Night, it's almost like The Boys, in a very basic way. You've got the dead super-hero characters, coming back as these weird debauched versions of themselves, doing nothing but harming the present. 

It's another in a line of DC events that's About Other DC Events, which is part of the weird thing about super-hero comics. They run so much on verisimilitude, with these focusing events that pull everyone's attention into the ongoing universe. All the money is made from that attention, with things like Siege coming up, Blackest Night right now, etc, etc. There's this desire for the reader to "peek" into the universe, to see what's going on, but at the same time, you can't really live in that universe. It's all these characters going through these horrible trials. Don't you think that the DC Universe would be an absolute hell to live in?

FO: Sure. Anytime that they try to take a step back and look at those places in any manner of impact-on-life, the problem becomes that the only thing that matters in those stories is the super-heroes. It's a constant hell for everybody. In the case of something as action-heavy as Sinestro Corps, the previous Green Lantern thing, it worked because there was a huge base of cannon fodder to draw on, but it was cannon fodder with personalities, histories. In that case, you have a group of space marines with names, it can matter when they die, when they fail. Marvel kills nameless children, and it can only work as an ideal. It's a hell to live there, but there's only non-super hero people "living" there when it's necessary to get some bodies on the floor. There's an implication that humanity matters within these stories, but you only see them in a body count, you only hear them mentioned in speeches.

Jog: That's part of the problem, in that the contemporary world of super-hero comics attempts to establish that it's a world that can be lived in. It's a world that goes on, but it constantly diminishes the human who isn't a godlike being, and there's a lot of existential troubles in that. Think about Final Crisis, but not as a metaphor, or even as a literary unit, because the shared universe has diminished the literary quality in these things. They rely so much on a continuing world. Just think, "what did Final Crisis do?" It changed the whole world, kind of brought the world back in the end, and I imagine you could see that one of the problems with it is that it wasn't even clear what it did to the world in the end. If you look at the Joe Casey book Dance, you can see that one thing it did was that Japan got totally fucking flattened.

FO: Otherwise, it's got non-existent results. Remember those moments in Final Crisis where they would show what happened? Run, or whatever it was called, with the civilians living under ground, hiding from everybody, hiding from Wonder Woman's dog armies. You've never heard about that since, and yet it was depicted as a hell on earth, an apocalyptic portrayal straight out of Kirby's 4th World.

Jog: Because it's a citation, it's a citation of an earlier work. But as it does that, the structure of contemporary super-hero comics demands it be something that continues, something that goes on past Morrison or Johns, something that continues on its own. You're being pulled in, but you have to stand back a bit, because the true experience of what's being depicted is completely horrible for any person. 

FO: Which leads you to that lack of acknowledgement for whatever it was that happened in the series, a problem that Marvel doesn't seem to be facing, because Marvel acknowledges the stories they've previously told. This led to that, whereas Final Crisis was massive, unending horror, cities and lives uprooted and destroyed, and no real line of that has continued. Superman, flying past annihilation to pick up Batman's dead body--and he's completely surrounded by a flaming hell, a city destroyed.

Jog: Let's not misinterpret things. I do think that something like Final Crisis is a "better" comic than something like Secret Invasion. But is it a better super-hero comic, in the way that super-hero comics are expected to behave? It would seem that Marvel has the verisimilitude going much stronger, they keep people hooked, they make more money, they behave the way people prefer these stories to behave. I think Grant Morrison is aware of this, because when you look at something like the end of JLA--everyone becomes a super-hero, for a little while. At the end of X-Men, humanity is evolving into mutants. At the end of Grant Morrison's timeline, everybody gets to be a super-hero, because I think he recognizes that these stories diminish the human element, and in order to respond to that, we all have to become something godlike.

Which doesn't answer to Blackest Night, where even being a super-hero doesn't change that everything would be a fucking hell to live through.

FO: Why did you read Blackest Night?

Jog: I just figured I should look at it. I may not have read a lot of super-hero comics this week, but I do try and keep up with what's "going on" in super-hero comics. I hear people say "ahh, Geoff Johns, he ain't that bad!" I see super-heroes coming in and doing gory things, and I like gory things. Hell, I love expressions of violence in super-hero comics, so sure, I'll check it out. And I guess it's alright? The thing is...they're always talking about stuff, like there's this idea that they have to fill people in with "what's going on" in the DC universe, and there's lots and lots of discussing the sadness of the past. It's all so downbeat. And that's alright, the dead are gonna rise, and that's the dominant motif of the story. I just didn't feel like continuing on with it, it didn't grab me in that way.

FO: You want to talk about something that excites you a bit more than this stuff?

Jog: Everything excites me. 

FO: I'll take that as a yes.

-to be continued

The Virgin Read: Thankfully, Smart People Are Handling Her 2008 Round-Up Questions

Nina Stone started off this year with a different last name, a cursory understanding of comics and a non-existent history with blogs, and now that the year is days from ending, The Factual Opinion is proud to present her thoughts on a year in trying to get a better sense of a hobby only slightly less popular than model train sets.  The questions have been provided by some of the Internet's most intelligent and valued comics critics, journalists and bloggers.  Please enjoy, and thank you to all those who participated.

Zom, from Mindless Ones:
Do you ever wonder just why it is that your intended likes reading about men in capes hitting each other with laser-heads? I know you're trying to understand, I know you're giving comics a go, but don't you worry that deep, deep down he might be a baby-man?

The Virgin Read:  A baby-man? ...No, I don't worry.  There was a moment where I was getting to know my husband and he...he didn't "open up to me about comics" by saying "I have to tell you something.  I...like comic books."  But he did start talking about them, and he seemed to find in them bigger questions about life, or relationships or..I don't know.  I found that stuff intriguing.  The whole capes and punching thing I just end up ignoring.

J. Caleb Mozzocco, from Every Day Is Like Wednesday and Blog@Newsarama:
Do you ever wish you married a blogger who covered luxury hotels and was all like, "Hey, would you mind spending the weekend here and writing up your thoughts on it?" instead of, "What would you like to review this week, Nightwing or Secret Invasion?"

Virgin:  I haven't really sat and thought "What blogger would I rather be married to?"  I suppose if my choice was hired to write about music festivals, that wouldn't hurt.

David Brothers, from 4th Letter:
Is Tucker making you do this against your will?  Is there a number we can call to get you help?

Virgin:  No, I'm not doing it against my will.  Actually, when it started and I was asked to do it--I made sure to tell him that, at any point, if he wanted to say "That was really fun, but...we're going to stop now."  He could say that and my feelings wouldn't be hurt.  I'm surprised it's still going on.  I thought it would last a month or two, and then he was going to say "Okay.  That was a good exercise for you.  What's something else we could do?  Puzzles?"

David Brothers:  Do you want to do anything other than the Virgin Read?  Regular comics reviews?  Rants about whatever?

Virgin:   There's been moments lately where things have happened in my day where I've felt like "I want to write about this, right now!"  I start thinking that I kind of have a forum to do that, that I could do "The Virgin Rant" or something.  You have those feelings about people in New York City--like "I'm the one person who needs to write about this!  Let it be known!"  But...I'm fine with the Virgin Read right now.  I can barely do it on time anyway.

Joe McCulloch, from Jog The Blog:
Do you think writing about comics has changed the way you read comics? Do you find yourself processing a comic differently, now that you've reviewed over 50 of them? If so, is that purely a side-effect of having to come up with things to write about, or do you think the act of composing these posts has changed something fundamental in your reading, something that you'd keep with you if you weren't reading a comic to review it?

Virgin:  Just now, I was going through looking at all the posts to refresh myself and my first thought was that the last several of my posts have been really the same, "I don't know what's going on."  I'm not sure if that's because what has come out lately hasn't been very interesting or different or new--Chris Ware aside, that was pretty recent--or if it's that the process has changed me a bit, in that I can already tell in two pages what kind of comic it is that I'm reading.  When I look at the first posts, there was something new and different to explore every time--Powers versus Nightwing versus Criminal--they were all so different from each other.  There was so much to explore.  I don't know if it's that I'm just reading stuff in the last few weeks stuff that's all very similar.  I guess I've changed a little bit, now that I've read so many comic books.  I really was the "Virgin Read."   I hadn't read any.  Like, really, really, really.  Now I'm a little bit on the inside of this world of "picking up a comic"--because I'm connected to Tucker, connected to these people who read the posts--there's all these experiences, all these "insights" that I didn't have before.  That might play a small part in how I would take a comic book if I was reading it and not reviewing it.  Nevertheless, I'm still a story girl.  I'm a sucker for a good story.  Even in movies, where it can have bad acting, if I like the story--i'm a sucker for it.  I think I'll always fall for a good story, whether it's well told or well illustrated.

Sharif Youssef, from A Magnificent Bastard:
Nina, on the anniversary of your big deflowering, how much do you like 'it?' Do you still see comics sociologically, as an example of a certain kind of consumer content, or do you feel at all implicated in the hobby?  At the other extreme from pure sociology, could you see yourself ever cheating on Tucker by going to the comic book store by yourself to choose your own comics?  If so, would that be a feminist breakthrough or not?

Virgin:  Okay, let's back up.  "How much do I like it."  It varies, just like anything else.  Sometimes it's great, sometimes it's just...what it is.  I'm kidding.  The one thing I don't like is that I haven't found "how to carve out my time"--it's the same thing with reading in general.  I never carved out the time as a kid just to read.  Carving out the time to sit down and read a comic book, enjoy it--that's still hard, I'm always reading and reviewing it at the last minute.  In that case, I feel like "I like it," but I wish I could get a bit more excited about it, like "Oh, it's my comic!"

On the sociological thing--hmmm.  Again, in the last few weeks, that was the most I've seen that something was made for such a specific audience.  Even the people who have come on to tell me "what's really going on" in the comic...I can't explain it.  I totally appreciate it--I just don't care enough to really get on board, to keep up with those things.  In those ways--is it sociological?  Men versus women?  A certain age demographic?  In the last few weeks, it's seemed more like that.  Do I feel implicated?  Implicated is such a weird word.  Feels like a crime.  I've been "implicated."

I guess I'm a little implicated, like I have an identity in it.  I'm starting to feel the "whoa, I better step it up!   People are expecting something, I've got to be fresh-er, new-er, funnier-er, clever-er!"

On going to the store myself--it did just recently occur to me that I only select stuff by choosing from what Tucker brings home.  I'm not choosing from the entire array of comic books.  I just take for granted that he knows what's "worth getting."  Maybe it would be interesting for me to walk into the store, weekly--not just once, but like a ritual--and pick from everything.  Of course, I wouldn't know what I was doing, I'd probably just pick something that's two years old and not know the difference.  There's that side.  On the other--well, I'm ready to go pick up my own Nana.  Well, I have, but not at a comic book store.  That was at a Barnes & Noble.

TFO:  Would you consider that a feminist breakthrough?

Virgin:  No, because I don't buy the whole feminist thing with comic books.  What is it?

Chris Mautner, from Panels & Pixels:
To what extent did the comics you read over the past year confound and also conform to your preconceived prejudices about the medium?

Virgin:  Well, first I'd have to examine what my preconceived prejudices against or for the medium were.  Which--they were barely formed before.  I just considered comics "a boy thing."  I guess there's some sexism there.  That was formed--probably by stereotypes from movies, things like that.  What's interesting is that there really are as many varied types of comics as there are types of people.  Somebody could say "oh, he's a comic book nerd" and that could mean...that guy!  I shouldn't even say this, but...that "friend of a friend" who likes to write poetry about Green Lantern.  That is one specific kind of person!  And Tucker might consider himself a comic book nerd, because he loves Chris Ware.  That's a difference--and I didn't know, but those are entirely two different things.  Same with all non-comics.  There's Achewood, there's people who are just really into art, that's why they love comic books, there's people just into story...I'd guess my mind has been broadened in one sense, in that there's not just one type of comic book, it's not all-super-heroes.

Conform--the super-hero thing is exactly like you think it is.  I was re-reading one of my reviews, something about how Captain America suddenly pulls a shield out of his trench coat that you didn't know was there before.  All the silly stuff, just these silly circumstances, the sudden ability to do things--things that don't really make sense.  The suspension of disbelief required to enjoy it is pretty large.  And that's exactly how I thought it was.

David Brothers:  Who do you think you are?

Virgin:  [Laughs]  Why?  What does he mean?  Who do I think I am?  Is there a part two, and what do I think I'm doing?  I'm Nina Stone.

David Brothers:  When reading comics, what is the Virgin Read's alcoholic drink of choice?

Virgin:  When reading comics, I stick to coffee or Coke Zero.

TFO:  You've gotta stay sharp.

Virgin:  I've gotta stay awake.

David Brothers:  What would it take for the Virgin Read to be a Virgin Read, No More?  Can we look forward to a Scarlet Woman Read in '09?

Virgin:  [Laughs]  I feel like there does have to be some sort of..something.  I don't know what the next step is, or the next name.  I do think it isn't a "Virgin Read" anymore, especially since I read Powers three times, Hellboy three times, now I sort of know what I like or don't like.  I'm starting to feel like I have less stuff to choose from.

TFO:  You've got to stop ignoring the art guys.

Virgin:  "Art guys?"  Like who?

TFO:  Like Travel.  Yokoyama.

Virgin:  I didn't ignore him.  I just didn't pick him.

David Brothers:  How did the Virgin Read begin?

Virgin:  Did it start as a Stunt Casting?

TFO:  It actually didn't.  Tucker was wrong about that.

Virgin:  Did he just come to me and decide it?  I can't remember.  How about this:  I'll tell you why I said yes to it.  I'm not sure how it started, obviously, he approached me about it, but I don't really remember.  He was--as anybody could probably tell--it came from his thoughts and ideas about the industry, about how it isn't...how Tucker loves comics and doesn't want them to go away.  How it doesn't help them to keep marketing themselves to this specific group of people, and then that specific group of people gets old and dies, how they don't have a new audience.  I guess he wanted to try and prove a point over and over again, could "this girl in her 30's" find something in this comic book.  Stunt Casting, Virgin Read, they're all variations on that question, that thing.  So I said yes--but why did I say yes?

Well, there I was, and we were on our way to being married.  Like a typical--I don't want to say "typical woman" but like a typical Nina, which is all I can be--I tend to want to look ahead and say "How can we keep things as awesome as they are."  Forever!  I'm always trying to find something for us to do together.  Throughout this year, there's been many, many different things--Tucker may not be aware when I'm trying to do these things--but I'll say "lets....do this diet together!  Or this exercise program!"  I can't remember all of them.  "Let's buy puzzles!"  Most of the things, they fall through.  He'll be game to try things, because he wants me to be happy, try new stuff.  But stuff like yoga..."I'll go with you once, but I'm not doing yoga on the regular."  I keep trying new things, because I don't want to turn into those people who have these two entirely separate lives, and the only thing they have in common is that they share an apartment.  The cool side of the relationship is that we like talking, discussing ideas--but in the daily hubbub of work, life and stuff, you don't sit down and discuss "ideas" every day.  You don't get to connect that way all the time.  This was a way to share that, that feeling of "doing a project" together.  I feel like I'm in on something, and he wants me to be a part of it.  And there's all of the great things that come out of doing something together.  That's one of the reasons I said yes to it.

David Uzumeri, from Funnybook Babylon:
What's the difference between a book you think is good and a book you're actually intrigued enough to come back to?  There's obviously a difference between a comic that makes you go "Oh, well, yeah, that was well done but not for me" and something like Powers where you actually want to seek out more and take it seriously and look at the bigger picture.  What, if you can identify it, is the x-factor that causes this? Are there certain things, like heavy sci-fi or a focus on plot or whatever, that just completely turn you off and make you unable to take it seriously?  Or do you ever pick up a comic you're pretty sure you're going to be utterly unable to connect with and then come away surprised?

Virgin:  Let's split that up.

TFO:  What's the difference between a book you think is good and a book you're actually intrigued enough to come back to?

Virgin:  I wish I knew!  I do think--obviously, Powers is my favorite.  I haven't actually finished the first trade, but that's because I'm me, I do other things.  I like story.  I love it when a story can get pretty outside of the box in a way that takes me down a road that's totally new, different then anything I've ever thought of, something that makes me say "I couldn't have written that."  But that it still happens in a semi-believable way.  I think about--obviously, I've grown up in theater and acting--so I like movies a lot, and...I'm going to name some movies, I don't know if only I like them, but I loved Being John Malkovich.  I loved Big Fish.  Stories that go off to into imagination, taking it outside the realm of reality, but not totally.  That's where Powers does for me.  It feels like it's based in this kind of realism, with a police force, relationships, and they happen to have these powers.  It's not like somebody just walked outside and starts leaping buildings in a single bound.  Nothing against Superman, but you know what I mean?  That's what I like.  That might be why I like Powers.  As far as one that's "good" but I don't want to go back to it--I guess I can get by just liking story and plot.  I thought B.P.R.D. was interesting, but I don't care to read it again.  Something about it--it must lack relationships?  I don't know.  I hate to be sexist, but I am a woman who likes movies about relationships, I like talking about relationships, that's what I like in my books.  That doesn't mean "love stories."  Just relationships.  Maybe B.P.R.D. had a creative element, a good story, not too far out of my realm, but maybe it lacked in emphasis on relationship.  I'm not really for sure, somebody can probably contest me on that.

TFO:  Hellboy was one that you read for all three issues, but I would argue there wasn't much of a focus on relationship.  There's a male friendship, but it's brief, just two people who don't know each other and only stick together for the three issues.  There's no love story, anything like that.  What got you about that one?  That's the only thing you've read that was "full."  Even with Powers, you didn't even read that entire storyline.

Virgin:  Well, it was one of those things, one of those settings--it was in the Appalachian mountains.  It captured something that I know about, something real.  That backwoods kind of place where people do have superstitions, and it took that--it played with it--it took it to a heightened realm, with the devil, magic, superstitions.  It was almost mythological, and that, yes, I enjoyed.  My favorite was the first issue though--the other two I didn't find as satisfying.  They felt different.

TFO:  It also might be notable that the Hellboy was drawn by an artist you had disliked when he did the Lovecraft collection.

Virgin:  Well, I just hated those stories.

TFO:  Do you ever pick up a comic you're pretty sure you're going to be utterly unable to connect with and then come away surprised?

Virgin:  Yes, like the Secret Invasion Black Panther!  I don't know what it was I read first, but there was that thing that I said it was like Elmo Live.  That Secret Invasion or Final Crisis--I knew that I wouldn't dig those.  I knew I couldn't keep up, I wouldn't know who those people were and then...I loved that Black Panther one.  I read two issues of that, and yes, I was surprised.  I thought that, since I liked the first, that there was no way I was going to like the second.  But I did!  I really liked both.

Joe McCulloch:  Speaking as someone with experience in theater and other arts, what do you think are the particular virtues of comics as an art form?  Like, what can comics do especially well compared to other art forms, from your experience?  Anything?  Is it all a lie and a fraud?  If so, should perpetrators do jail time, or would house arrest or another form of intermediate punishment be sufficient?

Virgin:  What?  Perpetrators?  What's the last part again?

TFO:  Is it a lie and a fraud...

Virgin:  Oh, and should they be punished.  Okay.  First part.

TFO:  What are the merits and virtures of comics, what can they do well compared to other art forms?

Virgin:  I feel like everything I say is going to say sounds sexist.  But there is really a difference between men and women.  There really is.  Newsflash!   I feel like you have to honor it or you can't engage with each other.  I can't assume that you are like me, or I'm really frustrated.  Maybe just because of who "you" are, but I think a part of it is that you're a man, and I'm a woman.  I'm going to use that Playboy thing--"men are visually stimulated".  Not sexually, just visually.  Video games, certain kinds of television, men seem to be good with facts, etc.  Look, I'm going to get to the point, but it's going to be a round-about way.  I teach children.  There's a part of my class where it's time to do art--now it's supposed to be sensory, exploratory, you have to keep telling the parents or care-givers to not force the kids to do it a specific way.  Let them stick things where they want to stick them, let them do it anyway they want to, if they want to rip the paper, let 'em.  It's pretty common knowledge that boys don't sit for art, yet.  Eventually, yes, they will--but at this age, they won't.  They can't, they don't want to, they have to move.  The only time they are going to is when it's messy.  Not even messy, but it has to be less like science--a kid will come to the table, say the project is painting.  He won't let go of a toy train.  If he brings it to the table, then I let him run the train wheels through the paint, run it onto the paper, and guess what?  Wah-lah.  He does art.  Mom's so happy now.  But when it's "now use a paintbrush?"  Not a chance.

Why am I saying all this, okay, let me make sense here:  in my class, we talk a lot about multiple intelligences, all the different ways in which a child can learn.  We talk about how drama is a great way for kids to learn, that sort of thing.  Here with comic books, you aren't just reading--there's art too.  Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad.  It's also "story", which can be cathartic--sometimes it's fantasy, but I think more than anything, the experience can be an outlet.  I think for boys--and for men, but especially for boys--comics are an art form that I think they can get something out of that you can't get anywhere else.  Maybe video games, but not even quite.  Not even movies, because those are still human beings.  But in some comics, you have these super-heroes, or a really angry person, like Punisher or something, "doing justice", "doling out anger."  I think you can get the reader stimulated, they can experience immediate catharsis.  It can help the reader to grow, to understand things better.  I think that's a merit.  Theater should do the same thing, but it doesn't have an audience anymore.

Should people be punished?  I don't know that I answered that question.

TFO:  You said it wasn't a lie and a fraud.

Virgin:  Oh, okay.

TFO:  The standard answer that people give to that question, the one they think is so clever, is "It's like an action movie with an amazing budget."  That's a line everybody uses all the time.

Sean Witzke, from Supervillain:
Does it feel weird that you're walking into these serial narratives all the time? Except for Powers, I can't remember a book you read month to month.

Virgin: Yeah, it does, actually. [Laughs]  I have a parallel situation going on where I'm a "guest client" for life-coaching right now.

TFO:  You won that?

Virgin:  Yes, I "won" it.  I was nominated, got selected.  Two of us did, out of a hundred people.  It's cool, I like it.

TFO:  Does that mean that "you were the two people's whose lives were most messed up?"

Virgin:  The people who need it the most!  I choose to look at it as "these were the people who were the most exciting", but maybe it's because they thought I needed the most work.  I have a different coach every month.  I'm in month four, on my fourth coach, and every month--I get the ball rolling with this person, they know me, I know them, they know what my "issues" are, what projects I'm working on, I've figured out how they work, and then:  new person.  And the new person doesn't get briefed on me or anything.  So I have to catch them up on where I am and I have to figure out who they are, we get to know each other, start grooving, and then:  new person.  That's how I feel with the comic books.

Sean Witzke:  Addendum to that: on recaps - Grant Morrison said something when Seven Soldiers came out that I kind of agree with - that if the story is sufficiently good enough you really don't need to know who any of these people are. Do you agree with that, based on your experiences reading this stuff?

Virgin:  Yes and no.  Yes, in that when you sit down to watch a movie, you don't know who the people are.  It can start in a situation where you don't know what's going on, random stuff is happening....

TFO:  The Shield.

Virgin:  Yes, like The Shield, where the first episode was made to be as if it was episode seven.  I started watching that show in season five.  I didn't need to know what came before--the stakes were so high, the action was so clear--I just got hooked in.  So yes, that's true when it's a good story and has good writing.  However, if it's not a good story, and it's not good writing, and it's on issue 71?  And I'm reading it?  That's where I'm like "get better."  Or give me a recap.  I want to enjoy it.

I was actually looking at something I wrote, and it was about that exact thing.  The recap can be written into the story too, like when Harry Potter books do it, where it's all "remember last time...", but it can be in there, just one sentence.  For the new reader it's a recap, for the old it's just a refresher.  I don't necessarily prefer the recap, but if it's going to be 26 characters meeting 72 characters at the top of a building?  Recap!  I have had that frustrating experience reading these things where, apparently, it's a really good comic to somebody who has kept up with it, but I can't keep up with it.

David Brothers:  What are your three favorite books that you reviewed this year?

Virgin:  Powers.  Achewood was really fun to read, and my review...I felt like I had to step up my review of that.  I was really proud of that review.  That was a really good comic.  I'd put that in there.  I'm tempted to say Hellboy, but I wonder if that's because we were just talking about.  I can't remember what the comic is, but one of the first ones I did?  In the review I started talking about the Angelina Jolie looking chick, and my personal feelings about women.  DMZ?  DMZ.  I didn't like that comic, but it has been a while since one of these connected me to bigger thoughts the way that did.  I wouldn't say American Splendor was my favorite book, but the experience of getting a bunch of feedback, watching the movie--that was a really cool experience for me.  I guess he wants favorite books.  I don't know what the third one is.  It could be Hellboy, it could be Black Panther, it could be Acme Novelty Library.

Tom Spurgeon, from the Comics Reporter:
What was your absolute lowest moment reading this material and exactly what was it about the material that brought you down?

Virgin:  I guess it was falling asleep reading.  That could be considered low.

TFO:  What was that?

Virgin:  Final Crisis, I think.  Legion of Three Worlds?  One of those.  I fell asleep reading it!  I had to lay down, I was so bored.  But was that my lowest?

TFO:  You were pretty upset by Acme Novelty.

Virgin:  Emotionally low.  But lowest like...

TFO:  The implication does seem to be "when did you feel most degraded."  "Why the hell am I doing this."

Virgin:  The word degraded made me think of Jenna what's-her-face.  Her comic.  The porn star, Jenna Jameson.  That was an awful comic.  So bad.  Shadow Hunter.  There was something about that one...it wasn't just that it was bad.  Maybe it was because I'd just seen her E True Hollywood Story.  There's something about her that makes me just want too...I know all the guys think she's hot.  But as a woman, you see what a fucked-up girl she was.  That she didn't have a chance.  I know she thinks she's happy, but she is not.  You can see a little of that in the comic, with her "trying to figure something out, find herself."  It talks about sex, but in this titillating way that's just so adolescent in the discovery.  The whole thing just made me feel sick--put it away!  Stop it!

Sharif Youssef:  To me your most poignant piece was the trip to the comic convention.  You mentioned how you expected these people to be listening to music instead of shuffling from one line to another. Did that change the way you started to read the comics?  Did you get why some people would pathologize the superhero genre or the niche identity of the comic book guy/ comic book chick?  Did you feel sorry for these folks?  Or did you just wish that the convention organizer would get his head out of his ass? What kind of lesson did you take from that experience?

Virgin:  My lesson was a little more personal.  It was about me, it wasn't so much about comics.  I did feel bad for people.  I don't have it as much anymore, but I grew up with a passion.  I grew up dancing.  I loved--I'm going to cry about it--I loved to dance.  I loved doing it.  I loved performing.  I loved all different styles of music.  I love it.  I love it.  I don't even have to think about it!  I didn't ever think "how am I going to pursue dancing."  I just did it.  Maybe it's because I had parents who could afford to send me to the classes I wanted to go to, and then I was on dance scholarship to college.  But that was what I did, that was what I loved to do.

I had this really good friend in high school, and she was always really depressed.  She was mad at me, depressed one time, and she said to me "You have something that you like.  I don't know what I like, I don't know what I want to do."  She was always trying to figure out who she was, and what she came up with is that she was a stoner.  I didn't think anything of it at the time.  But there I was, at this comic book convention and I started thinking that it would be as joyful to comic book people to be here as a dance convention was for me.  Dance conventions aren't that way for me now, but I remember when I felt like "Oh my god, I'm going to the Tremaine Dance Convention!"  It was so...cool!  I felt like, at Baltimore, that..this is terrible to say.  This is just my feeling.  I felt like these people were really trying to have a "thing."  But it's not really their "thing."  Now, I don't have any right to say that, I don't know what people are feeling.  It could be the difference between a dancer and a comic book person, that I'm all physical and outward and they are more introverted, but that thing wasn't there.  There wasn't a frenzy of excitement.  There weren't people running from table to table, or excited to be sitting down with their comics, it was all drudgery.  People wandering around aimlessly.  It made me feel a sort of overall sadness for anybody who doesn't have a "thing."  They were exploring, trying to find something, and they still weren't getting it.

It also reminds me of when I was in 7th grade and it seemed like everybody had something they liked.  People were into Duran Duran, they all had something, and I felt like I didn't have anything.  You're going to love this.  So I decided, "I'm going to like Garfield!"  I didn't read the comic strip, nothing like that.  I just decided that I was going to like Garfield.  I got all this Garfield stuff, folders, Garfield note paper...I had Garfield everything.  And I didn't fucking like Garfield.  I just decided "Garfield is going to be my thing."

David Brothers:  Setting aside Nana, what's the best manga?

Virgin:  [Laughs]  Nana!  I haven't read that much.  I read Death Note.  I haven't read Drifting Classroom.  I read the beginning of...I don't know which one.  It had kids swimming.  Part of me wants to explore manga a little bit, but it seems like everything suffers compared to Nana.

David Brothers:  What is the one question you don't want to be asked? Now, pretend I asked it and answer it.

Virgin:  Should I really try and come up with that?

TFO:  You don't have to say the question.  Just come up with it and then answer it.  No one will know what you're responding to.

Virgin:  Monkeys.

David Brothers:  I just looked Nana up on Wikipedia, and it sounds similar to David Lapham's Young Liars, only without the murder, mutilation, and spiders. Are you SURE it's that good? What's it got going for it?

Virgin:  I hated Young Liars.  Totally hated it. Are you kidding?  Who wrote that?  Is he pulling my leg?

TFO:  David Brothers.

David Brothers:  Boring stories about the existential angst and depression of hipsters and suburban kids are the fuel that makes the comics industry go. If you had to make up a story, or lie about an autobiography, what would your depressing memoir be called?

Virgin:  It would have to be catchy.  "Somebody Listen?"

TFO:  How about "Taint Buy Me Love?"

Virgin:  Eww.  That reminds me of something I need to tell you later.  How about "Undercooked or Undertall."

David Brothers:  Why would it not be boring like all the others?

Virgin:  Because of the sex.  No, I think it would be.  It wouldn't be boring because the protagonist has curly hair.  Because it's about me and I am pretty cool.

David Brothers:  Name your favorite Wu-Tang Clan.

Virgin:  I don't have one.  I don't know them well enough.

Noah Berlatsky, from the Hooded Utilitarian:
What is the deal exactly with Peter Parker's Mom and Dad?  Where are they, anyway?  How'd he end up with Aunt May and Uncle Ben?  What's with that?

Virgin:  I'm just assuming they are dead.  Or in jail.

Noah Berlatsky:  The Beast -- first he used lots of big words and had big feet; then he turned blue and started talking all slangy, saying things like "Oh my stars and garters!"  How come?

Virgin:  Beats the hell out of me.

Noah Berlatsky:  Do you think Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew will ever come back?

Virgin:  They better!

J. Caleb Moccozzo:  Who is stronger, The Hulk or Doomsday?

Virgin:  The Hulk.

TFO:  Why?

Virgin:  Because I don't know who Doomsday is.

TFO:  He killed Superman.

Virgin:  So what?  The Hulk.

J. Caleb Moccozzo:  Whose bi-curiosity is stronger for his teammate--Iron Man's for Captain America, or Batman's for Superman?

Virgin:  [Laughs]  Robert Downey Jr is kind of gay, so Iron Man.

TFO:  You're just thinking of Less Than Zero.

Virgin:  I totally am.

Tom Spurgeon:  What do you think Charlie Kaufman was getting at by having Hazel's house always be on fire in Synecdoche, New York?

Virgin:  She's a fiery gal.

Tom Spurgeon:  At the end of John Carpenter's The Thing, Kurt Russell and another character are sharing a bottle and wondering if the other guy is The Thing. Is Kurt Russell laughing because it's been a long day and the situation is funny, or because the other guy just drank gasoline from the molotov cocktails they prepared and is The Thing pretending it's alcohol?

Virgin:  Gosh, I don't recall that happening at the end.  I think he's laughing because I'm trying to turn off the television.

Tom Spurgeon:  Were you ever worried that your future husband had two last names?

Virgin:  No.  I thought "I gotta get with that guy, the guy with the cute name."

Tom Spurgeon:  After you open your presents, do you keep holiday wrapping paper for re-use?

Virgin:  No.

Tom Spurgeon:  Would you rather live right now with half the money you currently have or in 1973 with twice the money you currently have?

Virgin:  1973 with twice the money.

Tom Spurgeon:  What state do you know the least about: Arkansas, South Carolina or New Hampshire?

Virgin:  New Hampshire.

Tom Spurgeon:  A man in a hat is A) probably bald, B) stuck in a time warp from the 1940's, C) stuck in a time warp from a 1984 Ralph Macchio movie, D) Ralph Macchio.

Virgin:  Ralph Macchio.

Tom Spurgeon:  What is your favorite temperature? 

Virgin:  78 degrees.

Tom Spurgeon:  Gin and A) tonic, B) juice, C) rummy, D) bea it.

Virgin:  Rummy.

Tim O'Neill, from The Hurting:
I've been around comics long enough to know that people who don't read comics on a regular basis, for the most part, are not doing so simply because they haven't been exposed to the joy and majesty of the World's Greatest Comics, but for the much more prosaic reason that they simply don't like reading comics enough to make it a regular part of their lives. The "best" one can hope for is that the same people who dig books by folks like Jonathan Safron-Foer and Philip Roth will occasionally be inclined to slip books by Adrian Tomine and Chris Ware onto their bedside table. By putting scare-quotes around the word "best", I hope I'm getting at the meat of the problem: so many otherwise intelligent people feel the need to be evangelists for the cause of comics, Team Comics, whatever. It's not just people who think that, for whatever reason, a person who digs The Dark Knight in theatres will suddenly be willing to commit to making a separate trip to the comic store every week from now to the day they die to buy whatever Batman spin-off is being released on any given week. It's the idea that people will become so enamored with whatever comic they encounter that it will "change their life" and force them to become instantly obsessed with the medium - whichever genre, be it dudes in tights or Japanese martial artists or dudes in white button-down shirts sitting in their apartment and talking about their ex-girlfriends.

Most people who really like comics can point to some kind of "Paul on the Road to Damascus" moment that solidifies a lifelong affection for the medium (or genre of their choice, as it may be). People who love comics can never again experience that kind of virgin high - sort of like using Class-A narcotics, most of them only work so well the first time before they latch on to dopamine inhibitors or whatever and become simply addictive. But we want to instill that kind of high into other people, even if other people just aren't hard-wired about anything to care that much about it. It could be comics, punk rock, Chaucer or Hummel - some people are predisposed to obsession, some aren't, and the inability of those on the outside to understand / care about the obsession of the initiate are a constant source of frustration.

SO - the very name, "The Virgin Read", brings with it the expectation of someone being initiated into . . . something, be it the world of sexual experience or the world of four-color funnies. I long ago gave up on trying to "initiate" anyone into anything, because I've found that usually when you try to communicate your extreme enthusiasm about something to someone who Just Doesn't Get It, the only possible result can be hurt feelings and arguments. Anyone committing a "Virgin Read" is by definition not an enthusiast - everyone who reads about comics on the internet must by definition be an enthusiast of the highest caliber - why put yourself in that position? If you aren't "in" the comics world, why the fuck would you want to be "in" it, especially when the gatekeepers to the World of Comics are some of the most pedantic asshole missionaries that ever stepped off the boat to forcefully baptize California Indians and make them work on grueling plantations until they day. That is the glint in the eye of most comics fans when they want to baptize a non-believer - they believe they will be saving a soul for Christ, and if they cannot save that soul, it will be best to break the soul.  Why in God's name would you ever want to participate in such a foul system?  

Virgin: ....wow.  Well, I hear the passion in that!  I do have to make a correction--being a virgin, and then being deflowered?  That's not about initiation.  My first sexual experience wasn't my "initiation" into anything.  Just something that happened for the first time.  That's all I see it as.

Nevertheless--why would I want to be a part of this world?  A world that he doesn't seem to like very much?  It's not so much that I want to be a part of the world.

TFO:  There's a concept in there--that being a comics reader turns one into a missionary for comics.  I don't know that's something you do at all.

Virgin:  Well, it was done to me.  Nobody knows I write this column thing.  I'm not saying to people "Oh my god, read my column.  Read comics!"

TFO:  Because who cares?

Virgin:  Frankly, why would I want to be a part of this?  Because somebody I love and care about gets something about them.  They interest him.  He interests me.  That's why.  That really is the only basis.  No, I wouldn't be reading these if it wasn't for my husband.  I do find it to be an interesting world.  It's weird.  Not that it's weird because of "geeky/nerdy/weird" type of thing.  But because ya'll get seriously into this stuff.  There's a degree that is pretty intense.  Like when people get amped up about the specificity.  Who was it--in those comments, somebody said they were "about to make fun of me" about something?  Even if you make fun of me,...I don't care, you know?  I don't want or need to know what goes on there.

I find it cool the dialog I see you all have--I've only seen dialog like this in politics.  I don't see message boards where people go on and on about a book.  People going on about "NO!  This is my opinion about this writer!"  You know what I mean?  Only in politics do I see people get this heated.  These people saying all these hateful things to each other, really getting into it over comics.  That's kind of funny.  Because--you know, this isn't real.

Caleb:  Is Bert ever going to finish eating that baby?

Virgin:  I wish he would.  I feel horrible that I work with kids and write something featured alongside Bert eating a baby.  For two years!

TFO:  Good old Bert.  Good old screaming baby.  Anything else?

Virgin:  Thanks for reading!  Maybe we'll take votes on what to call me in the coming year.

-Nina Stone, 2008

Stunt Casting: If Bill Willingham Had Tried Harder, Maybe McCain Would Have Won

This is the fourth, and thank God, final installment of the Factual's look at DCU Decisions.  You can read Nina Stone's take on the first issue here, an interview with Nancy Stone on the second issue here, and we talked about the third with Sarah Engelman.  For the fourth issue, Katie Doran, an account executive at a New York advertising firm, took a break from her regular schedule of getting copiously drunk and firing people over trifles. 

Katie Doran:  Are people just going to make fun of me?

The Factual Opinion:  Don't worry.  Nobody actually reads these.

Doran:  I bet people just read it to get a kick.

TFO:  Actually, this comic doesn't sell anywhere near enough to have any fans, so you're not going to upset anyone.

Doran:  But I thought it was a DC comic?

TFO:  Yeah.  It's a DC comic.  It probably won't even sell twenty thousand copies.

Doran:  Even with the election?

TFO:  Yeah.  This thing didn't work at all.  By most accounts, it was a pretty miserable seller.  What kind of experience do you have with comic books?

Doran:  None really.  I think when I was younger I read some, just because I had brothers.  But recently I haven't been involved in reading anyway.  It's not on my list of...

TFO:  Things you would do.  Would you say your experience with DCU Decisions changed that?  Did you sit back and say "Wow, this is what I was missing!"

Doran:  No, but it was interesting and quick.  I don't think I'll be joining on and reading comic books regularly.  Maybe if I'm propositioned with interviews I would do it again.

TFO:  Do you remember what it was your brothers read?

Doran:  They read Disney comics.  It was Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge.  They also read some super-heroes like Superman and....Spider-Man?  I don't really remember what super-heroes they read.  I didn't read those, because I was an innocent young child.

TFO:  What was your initial reaction to this--this being the final issue of this little mini-series--were you able to keep up?  Did you find it confusing?

Doran:  Well, I didn't really get the background of Jericho.  I got that he was jumping into people's bodies, that was evident.  I guess the last one would've helped to keep up with that part, to know what was going on.  The rest though was pretty current, happening now.  I understood it.

TFO:  What did you think of the art?

Doran:  I guess it's similar to most comic books.  Maybe it's a little more "enhanced?"  It looked like they tried to make it look three dimensional.  That made it more interesting.

TFO:  How would you react if I told you that, even from the standpoint of "bad super-hero comic art," that this is pretty abysmal?

Doran:  Well, I'm not a "savvy comic book reader" now am I?

TFO:  No-

Doran:  See, I'm thinking of what I read when I was little!

TFO:  I know-

Doran:  That was twenty years ago!  I have nothing to compare it too!  If you want to show me something more recent-

TFO:  No, I just think it's interesting-

Doran:  I have nothing to compare this too.

TFO:  No, that's what I mean.  It's interesting to me, coming from a perspective of actually having seen something better, that this art doesn't really work.  There's no real perspective here, proportions of people's faces don't match up with any consistency--this picture looks like a flat drawing of a plate, but it's a guy's face.  But would a non-comics person pick up on that?  Would they care?  Let's talk more about what you thought about what you read.

Doran:  Well, it's a little more interesting with the election is tomorrow.  It's "of the time."  Not being a comic book reader on a regular basis, it was better to read something that's kind of about something I'm actually interested in.  It was really quick to read--maybe that's because I'm not hanging on every word.  When you gave it to me, it didn't feel super-thick, but it felt like "God, really?  I'm going to do this whole thing at work?"  Some of the pages looked like--a lot.  But it went by really quickly.  I don't know.  I guess it's entertaining?

TFO:  But you're not sure.

Doran:  Ha, well--if I saw it on the table I guess I'd pick it up and read it.  But I wasn't pained to read it.

TFO:  Would you saw it was more entertaining, or less entertaining, then watching a movie trailer on the internet?

Doran:  Less entertaining.

TFO:  I just watched the James Bond trailer on the internet and I would say that's astronomically more entertaining then this.

Doran:  And that has music.

TFO:  If I had to say "hey Katie Doran, what's the message of DCU Decisions?  What's DCU Decisions trying to teach us?"

Doran:  Don't tell people who you are going to vote for.  Keep it on the down low.  And always write in somebody.  Oh, and if you're a super-hero, you can't vote.  Because you're not a citizen.  Didn't they say something like that?

TFO:  No, I don't think so.

Doran:  If you're a super-hero, you can't run for President.  They said something like that.

TFO:  It does feel like the message is more "Don't tell people who you are going to vote for" more so then "Go vote."  Which would've been more simple.

Doran:  Except for the "I Voted" button.  Which is a big thing now, because it makes people feel special.  I guess.  I thought it was kind of funny how that whole Green Lantern/Jericho story was at the beginning and then it just dropped off.  There was no resolution to it.  They talk about it, Jericho escapes from captivity--and then that's it.  They don't go back to it, it's just "Okay, now we talk about voting!"  Maybe I'm missing something?

TFO:  Well, there might have been something you missed but it was all the way...yes.  Way back on this last page, the DC Nation page--

Doran:  Oh.  I didn't read that.

TFO:  You don't have to.  Here, at the bottom,  "Next in DCU Decisions:  The threat is contained for now, but follow Jericho as he jumps over to the pages of Titans!"  Now, this series is actually over, but you can keep up with the character in that comic.

Doran:  No thanks.  I still have a good opinion of Superman after reading this.  But I don't understand--this is Lois Lane?  This girl he's talking to?

TFO:  Yes.

Doran:  That whole thing was...kind of funny, the way they keep subtly flirting with each other about who they're voting for.  Weird.

TFO:  They're married.

Doran:  Lois Lane and Superman are?

TFO:  Yep.

Doran:  Where's her ring?

TFO:  Is she not wearing a ring?

Doran:  I don't see it.

TFO:  Well, that's her right hand.

[We both looked through the comic for a picture of Lois Lane's left hand.]

Doran:  See!  That's her left hand.  No ring!

TFO:  Huh.  She doesn't have a wedding ring?

Doran:  That's what I focus on.  "No ring..."  Wait, when did they get married?  In the movies they aren't married.

TFO:  Well, the comics have...

Doran:  More detail?

TFO:  Eh.  Not really.  The comics just have to come up with shit for Superman and Lois Lane to do every week.  They got married--sometime in the 90's?

Doran:  In this series?

TFO:  No.  This is just a mini-series.  It's totally meaningless.  It'll never come back.  Did you know it was written by the guy from the Real World?

Doran:  Which one?

TFO:  Judd.

Doran:  Oh.  Yeah, he was on the...which one?  He was the comic guy.  He was on when they had the guy with AIDS.  The San Francisco one.

TFO:  Yes.  He's supposedly a hardcore liberal and the other guy, Bill Willingham, he's supposed to be a conservative.  They wrote it together.  They crossed party lines to write this comic.

Doran:  That's great.  I like that.

TFO:  But no one bought it.  I feel comfortable saying that, without knowing what it sold at all.

Doran:  Too bad.  Do they do other comics?

TFO:  Yes.

Doran:  Who is this--"Winick."

TFO:  That's Judd's last name.  Those are the names of the people who did it.

Doran:  Hey.  Three bucks?  That's basically buying a book!  Maybe a dollar less, but a book gets you 300 pages.  You know, I thought it was interesting what kind of advertising they had in here.  You probably don't care.

TFO:  Well, you have more experience with that.  What did you think?

Doran:  It's interesting that the comic is all about the election and voting, and then the advertisements are all about the Army and the Navy.  "The entire world is counting on you."  You're reading about super-heroes, you want to save your country, here you go.  The Navy!

TFO:  If you had to gauge the age range of this comic off these ads, what would you put it at?

Doran:  17.  18.  When you're initially looking at what you're going to do with the rest of your life.  You need something to do after you graduate high school.  What's this Twilight thing?  Vampires?

TFO:  Some series of vampire novels.  Huh, two military ads.

Doran:  I was looking at that, and then I saw this.  This is really scary looking.

TFO:  That's an ad for a comic called Rage of the Red Lanterns.  It's about Green Lantern villains.  Did you know who Green Lantern was before you read this?

Doran:  No.  Isn't he in Spider-Man?

TFO:  No, that's a different company.

Doran:  Who is the one in Spider-Man that Willem Dafoe plays?

TFO:  Green Goblin.

Doran:  That's who I was thinking of.  But aren't they coming out with a Superman movie that has Green Lantern in it?  No, the Green Hornet.  I heard that.  Is that with Spider-Man?

TFO:  No, the Green Hornet isn't with anybody.  It's by itself.

Doran:  Oh.  Then no, I didn't know who Green Lantern was.

TFO:  These Red Lanterns are the new Green Lantern bad guys.  Their power is to vomit on people.  They vomit acidic blood or something.

Doran:  That's completely disgusting.

TFO:  They have a kitty-cat that purrs and then vomits blood on people.  In space.

Doran:  See, stuff like that I'm not interested in.

TFO:  I don't think anybody is really interested in that.

Doran:  Hey, I didn't get this green cat thing at the beginning of the comic.

TFO:  Oh, he can make shit with his magic ring.  So he made a bunch of cats.

Doran:  I also didn't get who this chick was.  The one with the tuxedo outfit.

TFO:  She's a magician.

Doran:  It's so random.  Is she in other books?

TFO:  Yep.  That's how these work.  They just bring everybody in.

Doran:  For two frames?  Dumb.  Then Batman joins in, but then they just go away.  Weird.  I did like how Batman and Superman work together.  That was nice.

TFO:  If you do one of these again, I'll find you a copy of Batman and Superman together.

Doran:  I like them together.

TFO:  They're very close friends.  They have a couple of comics where they have sex with each other.

Doran:  I don't know if I like it that far.  I like that they are friends and they work together.

TFO:  Nina seems to like that.

Doran:  No she does not.

TFO:  Yes she does.

Doran:  Whatever.  I don't believe you.   You know, from a woman's standpoint, I thought Lois Lane was a bit of a pushover.  Although I did like that she had a high-powered job reporting.

TFO:  She's spent the entire time she's been in this comic busting her ass and working while Superman has been dicking around, it makes me think that Clark Kent isn't a very good reporter.  She hasn't had any free time to go put on a costume and fuck off.  When was he finding the time to do his job?

Doran:  His fake job.

TFO:  That he isn't any good at.

Doran:  Yeah, he's probably not filing too many stories.  I thought it was funny how the end is Lois nagging him and he keeps avoiding the question.  That was an interesting male/female relationship.  "Tell me, tell me."  "Shut up. I'm just going to fly away."  Good one.

TFO:  How do you want to close this out?

Doran:  Well, it's always good to have new experiences.  I've never read a DC comic before.  I'm not sure when the next time I'll read one will be.

TFO:  Hopefully it will be one of higher quality.

Doran:  Hopefully.

For an interesting breakdown of why DCU Decisions is a "master class in how not to publish a mini-series, check out this podcast from the guys at Funnybook Babylon.  For those of you who are sick of this series, so is the Factual, and we're just as glad to say goodbye to it as you are.