A Short Note to a Stupid Columnist

Dear Erik Larsen,

I sadly regret to inform you that your latest column is based on overreaction and an apparent inability to accept criticism. Questioning how a female character's bra size adds to the story does not amount to censorship. Yes, comic book writers, artists and publishers have every right to design their characters how they see fit. I have yet to hear any feminists calling for legal restrictions on the cup size of fictional characters. I am also well aware of the existence of big breasted women, and small waisted women, and women of any size and shape possible.

However, as consumers we have the right to examine the product that we are buying. We have the right to question the value of superfluous physical traits, and we have the right to question the motives of the creators who designed those physical traits. We also have the right to spread our findings to other consumers, so that they may consider them when making purchases.

Sincerely,
A Rabid Feminist

Wonder Woman Preview Art

I was worried when they announced the Wonder Woman relaunch artist. I've seen Dodson's other work, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Black Cat... All pinup girls. All the same body type, all the same face. Another cheesecake artist on Wonder Woman. Same old objectification and disrespect, shameless pandering to adolescent boys, and "sex sells" mentality. Seeing the cover in June's solicits relieved some of my fears. I was aware now that he could draw a different body type. But still, the poses, the potential for disrespect, the possible clothing... There was so much that could go wrong.

So when Melchior linked to the Terry Doson interview on Newsarama, I waited until I was ready to read his post and the interview. Of course, I went through and looked at the preview pages first.



May I draw your attention to the fourth panel? Here, let me isolate it.



Did you recognize those breasts?

No?

Well, I'm not surprised, seeing as they are actually covered by the Wonder Woman emblem for once.

I daresay we can set our anxieties aside for now.

Maybe it's Just Me This Time

(I'm just posting this to see if anyone else had the same first thought I did)

Behind the Blog

Tonight, an exclusive look into how Chris Sims of the Invincible Super-Blog tests his jokes...

Chris: Hrm. Is it wrong to refer to Freedom Ring as "Marvel's newest and gayest action hero?"
Ragnell: *Thinks carefully* Nah
Chris: Darn. Then I'm not trying hard enough. *Pause* What if I go with "sodomite"...
Ragnell: Ack!!
Chris: There we go!

Linkblogging

I was putting off the linkblogging until I had a chance to read through everything, but it'll be a while. In the meantime, here's some intensive reading:

While I was out, I missed a few theme days:
Blog Against Disablism Day
Blog Against Heteronormativity Day
Blog To Raise Awareness About Sexual Violence Day


I missed a lot of Frank Miller hate and male objectification, both of which I greatly would have enjoyed participating in. T

I missed the Carnival of Feminists 13 but on the bright side, I made it back just in time to send my Making Assumptions post to Carnival of Feminists 14. 14's up right now, check it out (MetroKitty and the post about objectifying men made it too). Next one's at Self-Portraits if anyone's up for it.

Enjoy!

Girls and Green Lantern in Infinite Crisis

Why yes, I did get the Jim Lee cover.

Aside from the obvious goodies featured in this cover (Mmmm... Green Lantern Uniform Pants...), I want you to note 3 things here.

1) G'nort.

2) Wolverine.

3) This orange person.

Hmm... Shaped like and Hourglass, Bare Midriff, what appears to be Breasts... That looks like a woman.

Holy Cats! They let wimmens in the Green Lantern Corps? Who knew?

Yes, There's MoreMild Infinite Crisis #7 Spoilers Below (But you'll barely notice them)

Seriously, I was a little disappointed at the end of Green Lantern Corps: Recharge Remember that big spread with everyone in the Corps by the Central Power Battery on it, the one that had Elvis?

I looked carefully. There were three females -- Brik, Soranik, and this unidentified woman.

And I can hear it now. But Raaaaagnuuulll, they're aaaaaliens! They won't have the same sex characteristics as humans. A lot of those people could be female, and you just can't see it.

Okay, well, then, explain Brik. Brik is a rock-type person, from one of two stone-races on the planet Dryad. She is not an animal, she is a mineral. See the blocky shape and the gray coloring. That is how the artist indicates this.

So why the hell does she have breasts?

Easy, so that we know that she's a female.

You see, in our society, for reasons that remain a mystery to me, males are considered the default. If you see a person who is not obviously female (Breasts, Long Hair, Hourglass Shape, Pink Accessories of some sort are various ways of indicating this) then they are assumed to be male. In a book like Green Lantern Corps, where there is an unnamed background cast of 7200, all you have to go on is visual clues is for most of them. Even being generous, and not making assumptions, there's still a number of humanoid races. These can be obviously male or obviously female. In my experience, most have been obviously male. Male is likely the default to the writers and artists, otherwise why bother to give a rock creature a D-Cup Rack to emphasize her femininity?

This gives us three gender options when looking at the background of Green Lantern stories. 1) Male-Shaped, 2) Female-Shaped, and 3) Funky Alien-Shaped (Assumed to be Male by Default).

I got into a big argument on Comic-Bloc about this one. (And I remember who with this time, his name is associated with Hector Hammond, prison, and showers) All I said was "I'm disappointed we didn't get more new female Green Lanterns during Recharge." I mean, that's an opinion. How can you argue an opinion? I should have known better with Green Lantern fans. We can argue about anything.

It didn't get violent, to our credit. But we did end up listing all of the new Green Lanterns who had lines in the miniseries and the regular series. All of the returned vets. All of the projected returning vets in the upcoming Green Lantern arc (that starts this month). And then working out the ratios. We decided that the Golden Age magic Lanterns shouldn't count. We came up with 5 to 20, a 1:4 ratio, which we estimated to be near what the active duty military gender ratio is. Still, I figure, with Green Lantern, where the concept is warriors chosen specifically on strength of will, the gender ratio should be closer to 1:1, which led to the actual argument. Hammond's bath-giver told me I was putting my hopes too high and we'd never see that. He seemed to find this unreasonable. I didn't. Eventually we started talking about Raker or G'nort and peace came to the Green Lantern chatroom once again.

It weighed on my mind afterwards, so I decided to re-tally it. Going by speaking parts and named people.

Established Male/Male-Shaped/Masculine Characteristics
Hal Jordan
John Stewart
Kyle Rayner
Guy Gardner
Salakk
Kilowog
Shorm
Stel
Green Man
Torquemada
Isamot Kol
Vath Sarn
Mogo (although assigning gender to a sentient planet makes no sense to me, they refer to Mogo as "He")

Xudarian Male (GL#4)
H'lvenese Apparently Male (GL#4, GLC:R#1, GLC:R#5)
Goblin Female's Rocky Apparently Male Partner (GL#6)
Injured Primate Apparent Male (GLC:R#5)

3 Injured Masculine-Appearing Humanoids (GLC:R#5)


Established Female/Female Shaped
Brik
Soranik Natu
Goblin Apprently Female (GL#6)

This gives us a 3:20 Female:Male ratio. 13% Female.

Foreshadowed in Green Lantern #3
Male
Graf Toren
Hannu
Jack T. Chance
Ke'Hann
Kreon
Tomar-Tu

Female
Boodikka
Laira

5:26 now. Roughly 24% Female. A little better, but still not at the 50% it should be at.

So, why did I feel a need to do this? Well, because of the crowdscenes in GLC: Recharge. Aside from the two named Females (Soranik and Brik), I saw two other apparent females in the crowdscenes.

In the Crowdscenes:
Apparently Butterfly-type Female (GLC:R#2 Morning Briefing)
Female with the Funky Hat (GL:R#5 Crowdscene)



The rest were all either Male-Shaped or Funky-Alien Shaped and therefore assumed as male by default. It must be the default again, because why else give Brik Bouncy Breasts?

In light of the recent Green Lantern resurrections (Hal, Kilowog), and who had not been resurrected (Katma, Arisia), these background problems jumped out at me. Green Lantern is my favorite franchise you see, and I found it immensely annoying when the only prominent female is there not because she is chosen (like virtually every male character there, now that Johns has retconned out the randomness) for her courage and honesty, but because she was born into the business. In fact, because the heroes in this book are specifically chosen for courage and honesty, I think its even more important to have visible female characters here than in other superhero franchises. All men and no women in this mess sends me a message I am sick of hearing.



This was downright annoying me until I read Infinite Crisis #7 today. From the point where I saw the Lady pictured above, this issue could do no wrong. Inside the issue, when they have the first panel showing the Corps, there are at least four very obviously female characters there. There's more as the book continues. Quite a few, actually. Enough that I still don't feel the need to count and figure out the percentages (maybe later).

Even now, I find myself incapable of giving an objective review, overwhelmed by the pure joy of finally seeing some gender-diversity in my favorite franchise.

Even if background characters are cannon-fodder, it's still pretty damned cool to see a decent number of women there.

Levitz Got Something Right...

Mild JSA #85 spoilers

I'm still mad about his earlier portrayal of Dr. Midnite.

But I have to say, the Glowing Green Ghost of Jade who guest-starred in this issue was more likeable than I've ever seen Jade.

Maybe I'm just getting soft lately.

Got a Laugh Out of This

Minor Supergirl #6 Spoilers

I read Supergirl #6 and one of my hopes was dashed. The 16-year-old girl is still being heavily sexualized.

To think those cover costumes had given me heart.

However, the art is much more reasonable -- if still cheesecakey -- and the writing is infinitely better now. We're not universally expected to like her, but to understand that she's a hotheaded teenager and that's not a positive trait. As such, I like her a lot better. Rucka does indeed have skill.

And I did get a laugh from this issue.

You know how, even when the solicits have revealed something like a mystery identity or someone's death months in advance they still treat it as a surprise in the actual book? So, even when we know who Nightwing (Wow, yet another Nightwing in the DCU!) in Kandor is, they'll still have a big reveal where she shows up, is mysteriously clad in the uniform for a page or two and her identity is then revealed in a surprise manner.

Which we got, below:



Did you recognize those breasts?

A full page before they show her face, and it serves to identify Power Girl.

I laughed for ten minutes.

Had to Share

Chris worked this banner up for me a few weeks ago. He based it on a story he reviewed for Prism Comics here.

(Do I really come off as this militant?)

Who's Responsible?

All right, who did this?



Who put that poor confused boy in a gray body suit and then gave him a yellow cape?

Dick Dillon was the penciller, but I'm not sure he's responsible for the design.

Was it Kirby? It was a crime what Kirby did to Sandman. Did he do this to Robin?

Or maybe Wally Wood. I think the guy who'd take DC's personification of seventies feminism and put a huge hole in the chest of her costume in her character design is capable of anything.

Neal Adams was the cover artist here. I saw the atrocity he put the Earth-1 Robin in, I wouldn't put this past him.

Whoever did it, it was cruel beyond measure and they should be ashamed of themselves.

May Second

Rambling, not really comic-related and a bit depressingMy calendar was still on April, so one of the first things I did when I woke up was flip the page. I stared at today's date. Yesterday was May Day, or Beltane for the Celtic Reconstructionists. It was listed as the submission deadline for the next Carnival of Feminists. Cinco De Mayo is on Friday. I go back to work on Thursday. There's a party on the Thirteenth that I'm not sure I'll go to attend. The thirteenth is a Buddhist Holiday called Wesak, which I know absolutely nothing about. Mother's Day is on the Fourteenth -- Don't want to forget again this year. The Twenty-fifth is listed as Ascension (Christian) which I imagine means forty days since Easter. There's two US Federal Holidays (Armed Forces Day and Memorial Day) and Victoria Day on the twenty-second for Canada.

It's too hot in my apartment, a high in the 80s in Oklahoma City. I'd left the Argonaut off, because the cat's sick. He's wheezing and sneezing while I'm coughing and blowing my nose like a foghorn. The climate change always gets me when I travel. It's 70 degrees in Eden today when they bury my grandfather.

I couldn't get a flight. There's information at the bottom of the calendar about the symbolism of doves. It makes me glance at May's picture. A circle, an inscription in seven different languages on the boarder, containing three circles that each contain three spirals with three doves with beaks in the center. The knotwork points towards the center, three images converge.

My apartment's too messy. No one in my family lives in this kind of a mess. Grandpa's children live across the country. New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Virginia, Texas, California -- they're all in New York today for the funeral. I think I'm missing something important. My brother tried to get ahold of me, I was driving back from Mississippi. The landscape is dark and moody, with twisted trees and dark forests. There's still hurricane damage It rained on the way home, gray skies over Oklahoma. It was the third time I'd been to school in Mississippi (My USAF training was there) and the third time a relative died while I was there. I don't think I'll be going back to the Gulf Coast. Patterns.

The flights out of Oklahoma City were booked up, but I took a few days off. I need to clean, even my keyboard's dusty. I still have presents from December I haven't mailed, and souvenirs from Las Vegas and now Peach Syrup from the drive to Georgia for Mom. I can't find my the Harry Chapin CD with Corey's Coming on it. Junk Mail is piling up. I haven't sorted my new comics in half a year now. So, naturally, I found myself on the computer the last few days. A little escapism.

Things keep converging. My Aunt from New York commented on the Italian rant. She's from the Irish side of the family, and a few comments above they talk about the O'Dares being stereotyped. I never had a problem with them, does that mean I connect more with my father's side of the family than my mother's? Or is it just that there's more Irish-American in the South and less Italian-American? The stereotype seems less harmful because it's more normal to be Irish. It didn't make me think "They're making fun of me." Didn't make me think "They really believe it." I used to argue, when I was stationed in Texas, with Aunt Marilee about vermicelli pasta.

"It's in the Ethnic Foods section."

"It's not an Ethnic food. Everybody eats it."

"It's Italian, Italian's Ethnic."

"It's not! Italian's normal."

Did I really think like that?

This isn't making any sense. Grandpa died, I'm thinking about me. I never make the funeral. I was too young when Grandma died. When my grandmother on the Italian side died, I was on the plane when they buried her. I sometimes don't get told until after the funeral.

The whole thing looks like the picture. Incongruous when it's supposed to be a continuous, repeating pattern that you can see spiraling in, but it's disconnected because these little spirals are separated by bright, off-setting blue paint that keep them from blending into the picture properly, the knotwork is trying to make it to the rest of the picture, it points in towards the center but is isolated to little icicles hugging the border where is completely disconnected from everything trapping the awkward, misshapen doves who try to touch beaks in a wreath. There's nothing in the center. There should be something in the center, not empty blue.

I think I'm missing something important.

The cat's sick, he's trying to sit behind me and clean himself in the computer chair and I should give him his medicine. I'm going back to work soon. I need to take my dry cleaning but I don't feel like it. I think I'll order in. Mazzio's delivers.

I'll post something funny later.

The Flash is Starting to Scare Me IV

I found this blurred and aged panel flipping not through the pages of a Lovecraft adaptation, the comic book version of Children of the Corn or some other horror movie, or even a PSA announcement on the dangers of cults.

No, this image was in DC Super Stars #5. The redheaded child is Wally West, better known in those days as the teenaged sidekick fo the Flash -- Kid Flash.

Doomed Before the First Issue Shipped

While I was away, Kalinara had some ideas for redeeming Jade (and I have to say I liked some fo them. The conversation really got fun in the comments when they started to reimagine her as a Fairy-Tale Princess Adventurer. After reading it, I'm still not fond of her personality, but I will admit to wanting a Green Barbie now.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I found something on Fortress of Fortitude (finally found the original post, I'd mixed it up with another blog wtih a similar template) that convinced me that Jade was doomed from conception. I don't even mean the mother/daughter symbolism I'm always harping on. No, I mean the very attitude that DC had when they first marketed spelled "Weak Character."


Please note how everyone else is notable because of their really cool and useful powers or talents, and Jade is notable for "Green Skin."

They couldn't say "Energy Manipulation," "Power Pulse," "Light Powers" or "Green Light" -- they went with "Green Skin."

If Brainiac 5 or another Coluan character were featured in an ad like this, we all know it would say "Super Intelligence" or something like that.

If Alan Scott, or Hal Jordan, or John or Guy or Kyle or Katman or Kilowog or freaking Saakk were in this, it would say "Power Ring" or something referring to the energy.

If She-Hulk, the goddess of cheesecake, were a DC character and she were featured in this ad, it would say something about her enhanced strength or toughness.

But since it's Jade, it says "Green Skin."

I'd feel bad for her, if she hadn't made a habit of wasting the coolest powers known to comicdom.

Making Assumptions

Store owners and clerks take note, because nothing cheeses me off more than this.

I walked into a store in Georgia. I got a few of what I call "It's a stranger" stares, and no one said a word.

Behind me are the two men who rode with me to the store, Joe and Max. The man behind the counter greets them as they walk in together. After we left the store, I asked Joe if he'd ever been in the store before. It was possible, though I sincerely doubted it because a) he'd driven us to two other now closed stores before this one, b) Joe reads very little that isn't Manga and there wasn't any Manga or Anime there, and c) the comics Joe does read are the ones I buy, think are cool, and send him for his birthday or Christmas.

"Not for a few months," he replies. So I ask him why I wasn't greeted and he verifies my suspicions about the clerk. I actually felt better, because I'd almost walked right out.

Because it's the only store in the town and I insisted on visiting here in my neverending search for back issues, I actually did bother to take a look at the boxes, though. I find a few from the seventies but almost put them down because I'm pissed off that he greeted Joe and not me. Then I see them.

Quarter bins.

There aren't many quarter bins in Oklahoma City, you understand.

There are even fewer I haven't already picked through on Saturday afternoons.

I couldn't just pass them by. I was in town for a single day to visit Joe. We had to be back the next day to get ready for class. There were six quarter bins.

I looked through the first one. Volume 2 Starmans, written by James Robinson, in good condition, for a quarter. Five for a dollar! They cost two-fifty back in Oklahoma! Clearly the owner was insane and I needed to take advantage of this. When I walked back to the register, with nearly sixteen dollars worth of project, I found Joe and Max sitting by the door, looking very bored. They hadn't bought a thing and had found nothing to chat with the clerk about. While the clerk, who was actually a fairly nice person who I hope will know better than to make assumptions next time around, rang up my purchases, Max made the joke.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"I said, some women shop for shoes, some women shop for clothes..."

I look at my watch and rolled my eyes. Forty minutes for picking through six full long-boxes. That was not bad at all and I don't know a male comic book fan who wouldn't do it either. I said so.

They bitched about the time. I politely reminded them that they had spent longer in the video game store, which I had no interest in, the night before. They pointed out that I had spent my time looking for Lovecraft games and making fun of the Tomb Raider intro (it's actually pretty funny, she seems to realize that guys are staring at her breasts and fidgets nervously) they were showing.

Like they couldn't have made the most of being in the comic book store. But no, they only like Manga!

That's when I made the decision. Back in Mississippi there was a comic book store that was a close walk to our hotel, twenty minutes, thirty at Max's horrificly slow shuffle. There was another store ten minutes (fifteen by Max's pacing) beyond that that I hadn't felt a need to visit. Well, suddenly I did. My passive-aggressive vindictive energy was now focused on marching his sexist ass to that store and back. Sure, he could have said no, but that would have meant he had to stay home alone all night and study. He was going to have to do that after I left Friday. So on Wednesday, Max agreed to go.

He whined the whole damned way there, and dragged his feet.

Then he humiliated me by reading the product off the shelves.

But it was worth it. There were no quarter bins, but there were dollar back-issues. From the seventies. I loaded up, and headed home with whiny guy in tow.

I did get more than vengeance out of the walk, though. One of the dollar-issues I found contained the three most awesome Power Girl Panels I have ever seen. You see, I'm a King Arthur buff. I think medieval clothes look cool. Swordfighting is fun to watch, and horseback-riding has a charm cars just can't replace. I'd never live in Arthurian times, though. Because I'm not just a casual movie-goer, or a TH White (short for White-wash) reader. I'm an obsessive researcher of Arthurian Lore -- particularly the grim and gritty pre-Malory legends. I have had periods where I've thrown all of the intense fervor currently directed into Green Lantern fandom into King Arthur Stories (especially the ones about Gawain, my favorite knight) or Sherlock Holmes pastiches. As such, I'm well-acquainted with the odious rules of chivalry, particularly the ones about ladies left alone. Much as I love these legends, there are days when I really wished Morgan Le Fey would just up and kick all of their asses for their rampant stupidity regarding women.

Which brings me to Power Girl.





Anyway, my point is that I really, really love Power Girl.

Oh, and that you should greet both genders of customers when they walk into the store, whether you think they'll buy or not because stereotypes are utter bullshit.

Green Lanterns

Green Lantern fans have a reputation for rabidity. The infamous Hal Jordan fans vs. Kyle Rayner fans feud raged for well over a decade. The writer of the issues where Kyle replaced Hal recieved death threats and still gets regularly trashed by the most extreme readers. The writer who wrote Rebirth gets similarly trashed by Kyle fans now. Before Hal came back, we had little Kyle fan vs. John Stewart fan fights on message boards and even now, with three series and five major Lanterns there's still little skirmishes on the internet.

Why? What inspires such fierce fan loyalty?

It's really very simple actually. Green Lanterns are like us.

And I don't mean regular-joe type characters. The traditional appeal where the fans viacariously get the power of instant wish fulfillment. No, that's obvious.

They are like us because each one, no matter the species or gender, is a geek, a dweeb, or a nerd.

Kyle's dweebiosity is well documented every Wednesday on Seven Hells.

Guy Gardner broke up with a girl over an argument about 2001: A Space Odyssey.

John Stewart reputedly listens to Abba and Barabara Streisand. I've never seen this, but multiple people have stated it so I'll take their word for it. He's also an architect, which is a reasonably nerdy job.

In her first appearance, Katma Tui built a machine specifically to measure the amount of love she felt for her boyfriend before she accepted his marriage proposal.

And then, there's Hal Jordan. Hal's test pilot on fight jets, he has no trouble getting an overnight dance partner when his girlfriend turns into a naughty supervillainess, he gets to just punch out whoever disagrees with him without every getting assault charges or a broken wrist. Hal was never a dweeb, right?

Well, here's Hal reminiscing about his childhood:

The Flash is Starting to Scare Me III

Would you play poker with this guy?

Gone Again...

Okay, now that I've posted about that comic I need a few weeks to recover.

Fortunately, my work has decided to send me on another business trip (no idiot pilots on this one, though. Strictly training). If this is your first visit, I'm sorry, but I have plenty of archives, and check out the blogroll (and the blogrolls of the people on the blogroll). The rest of you know where to go for comic book commentary.

Don't, worry, I'll be back the first week of May with my reaction to Ion!

First Comics Week: The Twisted Mind of a Twelve-Year-Old Girl.

(With Apologies to The Invincible Super-Blog! as I can't stop myself from wandering into his style for this one.)

When Chris Holly declared it First Comics Week, naturally the first thing I thought of was the comic that brought me to DC -- "The Return of Barry Allen."

But there was an earlier one. I didn't think of it until a few hours later, but once I did I remembered vividly the opening scene. I remembered having watched the X-Men cartoon. My sister reading the comics, her endless nagging, picking up a book because it featured kids close to my age, a blonde jogger, a girl on a park bench, and a panel which downright blew my mind!

Unfortunately, the comic belonged to my sister. In Pennsylvania. And I wanted to reread it before I posted about it. I spent the next few lunchbreakss at local stores, and yesterday I found it. There it was in the dollar-bin, with it's pretty, shiny silver cover. Generation X #1

My childhood for ninety-nine cents. What a bargain!

I was nervous when I brought it home. My hands were trembling as I fumbled with the polybag. What if I was suffering from... Nostalgiavision? Would it live up to my memories? What if it sucked? What if now, that I've trained myself to notice the symbolism, it completely and utterly insults the hell out of me? What if this means that I can never, ever return to Marvel, even after Joe Quesada retires? I nearly chickened out.

But no, I opened the bag, I read the book, and I learned a valuable lesson.

I worry too damned much.

It was a transcendental experience. I became as a child when I realized that I have still not recovered from my first reading of this comic -- 12 years ago! Merely rereading this comic caused me to abandon all pretenses of reason and reflection. I regressed to the mental state of a babbling twelve year old fumbling for words to describe the beauty, power, and wonder of what she had just read. My vocabulary dissolved, the adjectives were slipping away from me and the only way I could describe the book was to say that it was totally awesome!

This is the way team books should be done.

The first panel features the orange sun, low in the sky in the early morning. The narrative captions (third person, baby!!) describe the Dawn. The first character introduced is running. Not away from anything, towards us, towards the reader. The narrative describes her as Paige Guthrie, a mutant. And her thought balloons (thought balloons!) Her head and feet extend outside the panel boards. The panel cannot contain her power!

This overtaking the panel trick is done for every character introduction in the book except Jubilee (who gets a full page). It's always full body shots, a good way to show off a character. And the poses fit the personalities of the characters. Paige is running forward. Jubilee's sitting on a park bench in monster slippers and whining about being up too early. Monet descends from above, correcting the other character's vocabulary.

Oh Monet, how I adored Monet in this! I think it's because she struck me as a black female Superman. Look at her first appearance. Perfect Superman pose -- red and blue clothing, arms outstreatched, palms open, one foot is kicking back so fast we can't see it, the other extended forward to land on Earth, the sun glints off her spandex and her hair sweeps back in a very capelike manner. She completely comes across as Supermanesque despite being a total snob. Hell, it adds to her. She'd be so flat as a outwardly sweet person. I still think Marvel should play her up as their answer to Superman. It would work. I would completely do that if I were Marvel's Editor-in-Chief.

Later on in the book, she's climbing a tree. In a preview profile, it notes that she describes boys as "icky" and later on in the series she's caught with a coloring book. So yes, this was hint-dropping for a future plot (her baby sister was impersonating her or something stupid -- I'd stopped reading after Age of Apocalypse was done), but I liked it. I wish that childishness would come back as a side effect of her super-intelligence. It softened an otherwise harsh character.

Later on, they introduce some of the boys. The only one I cared for was Synch because he was a copycat power, and if I were in the Marvel Universe that is what kind of mutant power I would want -- the power to have everyone else's power. But the White Queen makes a strong first appearance, setting herself up to gain my eternal fanitude a few issues later.

Once everyone is introduced, they all go to an airport and have the obligatory coincidental run-in with a supervillain -- a supervillain a teammember knows! Monet knows Emplate, who is there after Chamber, because from this point on, in this and every comic he appears in -- Chamber is the center of the known universe. He has that much power.

And of course, at the end, a mystery teammember is introduced. A teammember who leads into the next issue and ties importantly into future plotlines -- many of which I never saw resolved, because this, after all, is an X-Men comic and nothing every gets resolved.

I thought Penance, purely by her character design, was Unutterably Cool. Let's look at it from a twelve-year-old standpoint, shall we? Bright colored skin? Check. Nineties name which makes no real sense but sounds cool? Check. Pretty face? Check. Long Hair? Check. Giant Razorblades for Hands? Check. Giant Firkin' Razorblades for Hair? Check. Mummy Wardrobe? Check. Mysterious, sinister past? Check. She was my Wolverine.

All in all I have to say (and I am biased!) that this is the strongest first issue of a team-book I've ever seen. I hadn't read the crossover that led to the team, and I didn't have to. I only knew Jubilee (from the cartoons) but I got a very clear impression of the other major personalities in this issue. The team was built in a wonderfully 90s manner -- half male, half female, with a carefully thought-out ethnic diversity. Which was beautiful because this way, when the team was portrayed out of costume, you could tell them apart! If only Young Justice had considered that when they brought in female characters!

None of this occurred to my twelve-year-old brain initially. It helped that the characters were close to my age, and it helped that the strongest personalities were female, but to tell the truth I was hooked from one panel.

You see, as a child, I was fascinated by snakes. Whenever we visited a zoo or saw an animal handler show or any of that neat stuff they do for schoolkids to get them interested in science, I was drawn to the snake. If I could pet the snake, I would. If I could see a snake, I'd be peering in the aquarium dealy. I asked my mother for a snake several times (she hated them). Everytime I had the opportunity to get my hands on a discarded snakeskin (which, alas, was all-too rare), I took it and I saved it until my ophidiophobic mother tossed it and made "eww" noises. My favorite person in Greek Legend? Medusa.

This was all because I found the idea of an animal that could shed its own skin absolutely fascinating.



Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, that was a girl ripping her own skin from her body.

Please Note: All references to Chuck Austen are expressly forbidden in the commentary. It Never Happened.

The Cliche Writers Can't Refuse

He was an older man who reminded me of my father. I was escorting him while he was doing an all-day job in a secure area. This is long and tedious from both our points of view, and eventually, running out of conversation fodder, he asked about my name.

"Actually, it's Italian." I answered.

"Really? Oh yeah, that's a Latin root..." which was followed by inquiry into how it ended up so mangled. Immigration issued name (I suppose it would be more accurate to describe it as an American name). When he asks what part of Italy, and why my great-grandfather left, I have no answer.

That's when It comes.

"You know, an Italian man, fleeing his homeland, mysterious past. Could be running from the Mafia."

~_~_~_~

(Consider this your Catch-22 Spoiler Warning)

I can't rightfully complain (but that's never stopped me before). I contributed to our cultural obsession by supplying demand to numerous suppliers. I was mildly obsessed with the Mob in High School. I watched the movies, I read books about it, I went out of my way to catch TV documentaries... I ate it up.

It's sexy and exciting. The seedy underbelly of the naked city, bad men at their worst, good men at their worst, decades of history, generations of accumulated power, hot Mediterranean desires, dark-haired goddesses married to ugly men with no necks, intense Catholic guilt, honor stretched to the limit, men kissing, that string music in the background, one more job and I'll be done -- I swear Mama! The writers do it on purpose, and many of them do it well. To make a good story, you glorify and glamorize the genre.

There is a price with this glory and glamour. I'm not talking the price of crime here -- lives and broken hearts. I'm talking fiction here, not reality. People's business is their own business, and if their business is crime it's their business, not mine. I'm studying pure stories and their effect on attitudes. Attitudes which intrude into my life and the life of every Italian American in America, asking The Question.

(No, not that Question.)

"Does your family have any Mob Ties?"

I remember the first time I heard The Question, in any of its myriad syntaxes. Maurice from my first duty station. He lived next door in the dorms, and played his music all night. Loved "gangsta rap." I even remember the name of his favorite duo -- "Capone n Noriega." I'd pound on his door nightly to make him turn it down. He was especially excited when the conversation turn to heritage, and he was the first to seriously ask -- "You in the Mafia?" I was more than a little taken aback. I'd grown up in a heavily sheltered area, with specific ethnic groups. Italian, Polish, Irish, we all made our jokes. Maurice wasn't joking.

He wasn't the only one.

After years and years of romanticizing and fictionalizing the legacy of Al Capone and other Ethnic Organized Crime symbols, an Italian last name becomes dramatic shorthand for "Mob Ties." Oh, how I hate Mob Ties! You know it when you see it on TV. Any cop with an Italian name gets an episode where he runs up against the local Don (who also knew him from a child!) or has to save a wayward relative from "The Life" -- and don't forget, the added Catholic Guilt. In any Crime Drama, eventually, the writer will bring in the Mob for the Italian character. In any comic book, you see it coming. They'll be at least related to a guy who works for the local Boss. They'll most likely know the local Boss themselves. Be actively working for them. Every Italian in comics is connected to The Mob, and of course, every Italian in Gotham City is a card-carrying member of The Mob.

I still enjoy the fiction, to an extent. I like a good Noir movie, old classics in black and white. I'm a sucker for the funny Mob movies like Analyze This and The Crew. I still romanticize fedoras, Italian suits and New Yorker accents. In the right mood, I can even stomach the serious stuff. This is getting more and more difficult anymore, especially as I like Crime Dramas and even when it's not Mob-centered, Mob Ties somehow find a way to slink into the plot. It was okay, back in the Poconos, where everyone was Italian, Polish or Irish and knew what your life was really like (or at least, knew what that insinuated when you asked a cop's daughter), but away from home it gets hurtful. Not only do they spout tired ethnic slurs, they ask The Question. "Is your family in the Mafia?" If they were just joking to break the ice would be one thing, but they ask with a greedy interest like I have stories to tell and connections to act on. People actually think we're like that!

"Any Mob Ties?" It's so insulting!

Generally, the fun part of Mob Ties -- the actually being a bad guy as opposed to just being related to one, went to the men. But not to worry, the Spawn of Capone had a Bride. The Hot-blooded Italian Woman, who actually predates the Mob Ties cliche. I think this one first materialized, for me, in Catch-22 when Nately died. The is the point where Nately's Whore, previously a dismissive and humorous side-character (I swear her only line in the entire book is "Idiota!") goes batshit crazy and dedicates her existence to the Destruction of Yossarian. This homicidal background character becomes representative of all Italian women in American media to me. Her beneficial purpose is purely sexual, and is usually the backstory reason for her inclusion. Her more practical and malicious purpose, storywise, is to throw a wrench in the works. She's the irrational, emotional woman there to make the main character's life much more difficult. "Italian women are nothing but trouble!" the adage goes, and this woman, present to fill any necessary Italian female presence (because, you know, if the character is rational, she can't be Italian) is all too happy to prove it.

I love the stereotype and hate the stereotype. As a rule, generally embrace anything that makes me scarier to other people. And again, the humor. She was the funniest character in the book. But I despise the effect, the one that paints me as irrational, emotional, and violent. The one that invalidates me everytime I get angry, because that's just the Italian in me getting worked up. The one that makes men laugh and joke when I'm seeing red. The one that assumes my Father is corrupt, my Mother is a blind, my brother is spoiled and violent.

It's why I never cared for the Huntress. She's both stereotypes mixed into a sickeningly over-the-top combination. Helena Bertinelli just couldn't be a schoolteacher with a crossbow fetish. No, she had to be the Mob Princess, embodiment of the Italian-American Stereotype, with her religion plastered across her costume and her entire family's skeleton's filling numerous walk-in closets. She's the hot-blooded Italian woman, the one who turns men on for her passion, unpredictability, and danger. She's Nately's Whore, Americanized, with Mob Ties, and reincarnated in Eighties comics. Sex and violence in a black-haired supple-breasted tight-abbed Catholic-girls-gone-wrong package. Way too much of a stock Italian-American character. Heavily Catholic, pampered, violent, oversexed, raised to glorify honor among thieves, hot-tempered, and bloodthirsty. Whether she embraces or rejects "The Life" she's a formulaic fiction femme fatale.

I didn't realize any of this until I saw the panel at right. Now, it's not the panel, or even the joke itself that offends me. I laughed at that joke in Birds of Prey when I saw it. I initially enjoyed it, still enjoy it on one level, I'm not inclined to dislike anything that makes me scarier. It's what the joke makes me realize about the character that's weighing on me. And the more I think about it, the most disgusted I get. Before this moment, I never clicked with Huntress and in one moment I clicked with her and realized why she was ultimately unacceptable to me. I'll still enjoy seeing her hit people, of course, but I can't really enjoy a character study. Not the Catholic/Mob Princess Angst stuff. "You don't mess with Italian girls." Why? Because they are crazy hot-blooded Mediterranean vixens. You can't predict them. They don't make sense. They don't follow logic. They're just animals. It's Nately's Whore, taking it out on Bat-sarian (well, Slade-sarian in that case). Just a crazy woman who doesn't understand what's going on, so you'd better avoid her. The sum of Huntress's Post-Crisis concept -- "You don't mess with Italian girls." We're not thinking beings.

To be fair to the Huntress, even in my Mob-obsessed phase Italian-American comic book characters just never did it for me. Too contrived. Too stereotyped, too insulting.

Well, in general.

There was an exception.



In the fifth Starman trade paperback, I encountered a first. The one Italian-American comic book character that I could stomach. Hell, I even liked this one.

Bobo (He hates that name) was not born to a life of violence, instead, he chose to pursue violence -- honestly, at first. He went with the Marines to Korea, and got injured. In a wonderfully underexplained origin typical of 90s comic books, he discovered that he was invulnerable, super-strong, and immortal. He would use this power, for personal profit. He could use this power to rob banks. And fight Superheroes!


Hey, I never said he was upstanding citizen, just that I liked him.

Jake "Bob" Benetti does have ties to Crime. It's not to an ethnicized, romanticized, organized criminal empire, though. Bobo, like any super-strong bank-robber should, belonged to the Super-Villain community. His most powerful ally was not a neckless overweight old Godfather ripoff, but Opal City's Oldest Living Resident and Most Popular Dickinson Throwback, The Shade. He has a fun personality, one of those big, open, plainspoken people. Like pretty much all of Opal City, he was era-displaced. Bobo belonged in the forties and fifties. That was because of an extended stay in prison. He felt so displaced when he got out, actually, he intended to go back in. Fortunately, The Plot intervened and an old supervillain became a new superhero! As time went on and we focused on Bobo, Mob Ties never revealed themselves in the course of the series. We saw a Times Past story, and Mob Ties never revealed themselves. We saw a guest-shot in Catwoman, and Mob Ties never revealed themselves.

In fact, there's a storyline where The Mob is (are?) the featured villain, and Bobo Benetti is fabulously, marvelously, gloriously NOT INVOLVED IN THE SLIGHTEST!

And in that storyline, that single issue, the Formerly Corrupt Cop Matthew O'Dare, and his Utterly Fantastic Friend the Shade deal each and every Mafia character in the entire city a gruesome horrific death. Thus ensuring that Jake "Bobo" Benetti, this one beautiful, wonderful, divinely three-dimensional Italian-American character can hold his head high and walk proudly out of the police station, free of that banal affront to character background most commonly found in the toolbox of the hack writer -- Mob Ties.

What's notable about this panel?

Here's a hint.