Originally published February 8, 2002, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1473
Herewith the final installment of our time-traveling view of the 1992 poll about what the comic industry would be like in the year 2002.
The year 2002 will seem most like:
Space: 1999 64 29.22%
John Byrne’s 2112 39 17.81%
2000 AD 32 14.61%
Spider-Man 2099 24 10.96%
Jack Kirby’s 2001 23 10.50%
Single votes were also received for Blade Runner, Terminator, 1992, and Max Headroom. Well, we still don’t have flying cars in every household, which is a tremendous disappointment, and the moon is still in orbit, so so much for just about every possibility that got a significant percentage of the votes. The fact is that the single vote casters were the most on target. The other day I was in midtown Manhattan and there was a huge image of an Asian woman’s face up on that whompin’ big screen TV overlooking 42nd Street. It was a genuine Blade Runner moment. If you don’t think, in best Terminator mode, that machines are taking over, think about how far computers and the pervasiveness of the Internet have come in just ten years. And in a world where Lara Croft (pre-Angelina Jolie) is a sex symbol, and films featuring only computerized actors are lobbying for serious Academy award consideration, Max Headroom is no longer twenty minutes into our future, but instead five minutes in our past.
In the year 2002, Spider-Man 2099 will be in:
The 3/$1 box 106 48.40%
2099 49 22.37%
2109 31 14.16%
2100 17 7.76%
2101 14 6.39%
2105 7 3.20%
Had Marvel not booted Joey Cavalieri, the plan was to jump the entire line to 2101. If nothing else it would have avoided the characters arguing whether 2100 was the last year of the 21st Century or the first year of the 22nd Century. But Joey was sent packing—a move that was anticipated by the six voters who predicted Joey would be editor-in-chief of DC by 2002 (which he’s not, obviously, but no one thought he would be EIC at Marvel even though he was working there at the time of the poll.) With Joey’s departure, the 2099 line spiraled away into oblivion. And the real answer to the question was guessed by none of you: Spider-Man 2099 is in Captain Marvel, for four issues starting this month. So there, nyaah.
I think my comics will be worth more ten years from now than they are now:
Agree 154 70.32%
Disagree 60 27.40%
I think the bottom is going to fall out of the collector’s market:
Agree 126 57.53%
Disagree 90 41.10%
It remains fascinating to me that so many respondents foresaw a drop in the value of comics, but were certain that their own collections would be impervious. This is a dámņëd near impossible question to answer for sure because there are so many variables. Did the value of comics come crashing down? Some. But it’s wildly unpredictable. For instance, my local retailer has boxes of Spawn #1 that he’s selling practically at cover price. In the meantime, a CGC graded, slabbed edition of Spawn #1 is—as of this writing—carrying a $39 bid on ebay.
Slabbing. Jeez, sometimes I really can’t believe this industry or the fads that seize it. This survey really has me taking the long view of things, and it is my humble opinion that the CGC slabbed editions for which people are presently shelling out huge amounts are going to be nothing more than curiosities ten years from now, with the resale value of a fig newton. Today’s outrageously priced collectible is tomorrow’s coaster. Gee, everybody hold on: I’m going to run right out and slab my pog collection.
Gold and silver age comics, meantime, continue to remain the blue chip standard of comics collecting, just as collectors of 1992 predicted they would.
Ten years from now, the average reader will be buying comics:
To read the stories 130 59.36%
To look at the artwork 62 28.31%
For collectible value 50 22.83%
There’s no scientific way to know this one, but I believe the majority was correct. Almost all the discussions I see these days in regards to comics have to do with the stories. They may involve disputes over the wisdom of crossovers, or the nuances of retcons, or any of a hundred other aspects, but primarily readers seem to be in it for the pure joy of finding out What Happens Next. Thank God for that.
I’m going to summarize the next few, because it’s impossible for me to determine the relevance to the current readership in any accurate manner. They were more just to get a gauge of the folks who were responding.
Forty five percent of the respondents were in their twenties, followed closely by thirty one percent in their thirties, and the rest scattered around demographically. The majority of the respondents said they read comics for the combination of story and art, as opposed to thirty four who follow for the story, twenty for investment value, eleven percent because they’re Marvel zombies (remember those?) and a paltry four percent mostly for the art.
Seventy four percent of the respondents described themselves as fans, while fourteen percent said they were industry professionals (I wonder how many of that seventy four percent are now pros?) Interestingly, forty people said they were Inigo Montoya, eight people said they were the pirate king, two claimed to be president of Marvel (neither were), two said they were the very model of a modern major general, one claimed to be an editor at CBG, but wasn’t… and one claimed to be—and, sadly, was—Mark Gruenwald’s father. If you’re still reading, sir… once again, I’m sorry for your loss.
And finally…
But I Digress will be:
A fond memory 92 42.01%
Written by me 78 35.62%
Written by Shana 26 11.87%
Drawn by Todd McFarlane 13 5.94%
An unfond memory 6 2.74%
Shana did write a couple (as did Gwen). Todd McFarlane, as we now know, only draws lawsuits these days. And most people—including me, and I said so at the time—thought it would be a fond memory.
In the course of writing the column, I’ve made friends, lost friends, became a father for the third time, pìššëd øff Image, taken potshots at Marvel, DC, and Archie, been lampooned in Comics Journal, created one set of buttons that said “Official Stickler for Credit” and another that said “FOE,” suggested that something called Pro/Con be started, reviewed a ton of movies, made fun of a raft of people (including, first and foremost, myself), and gotten a buttload of money donated to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund—both from money paid by Krause for this column, and also from the generosity of fans who have responded to open appeals.
And I’m still here. Forty two percent said it wouldn’t last… but I’m still here.
Just goes to show you: You never know.
(Peter David can be written to at P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)
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