PeterDavid.net

CHALK BOARD

May 17, 1991

Peter David, writer of stuff, unfortunately has absolutely no time to do this week's column, what with deadlines he's racing to meet before he heads out to Oakland's Wondercon. However, rather than run two "Top 10" columns in a row, he is instead going to turn the column over this issue to one of the more outspoken and aggressive members of the IBIDS (Intrepid But I Digress Staff), Mr. Victor Chalker. Vic (no relation to Jack Chalker, it should be noted) is a long-time associate (friend might be too strong a word) with very distinctive views on comics and the industry. Peter hopes he's not making a serious mistake. So without further ado: Mr. Vic Chalker.

Ladies and gents, mud will be slung tonight.

Welcome to the first installment of

CHALK BOARD

My hope is that enough people will like what I have to say; appreciate my candor; my style; my straight from the hip honesty; that you'll want to see more of my opinions besides what Dave is willing to let me have for a one-shot appearance.

If it makes it sound like I'm ungrateful, I'm not. I've known Dave (Peter David to you) for years. The reason he likes me; not that he'll admit it; is that I keep him honest.

Because I remember him before he became the self-appointed conscience and hotshot that he's mutated into here in the pages of Comic Buyer's Guide. Now he goes around, spouting political philosophy and self-conscious claptrap as if anything about him [besides his legs] carried weight. I remember him when the only date he was able to get was off a calendar. I remember him when the only writing he did was on bathroom walls, scribbling down his own phone number with the message "FOR A GOOD TIME CALL..."

And now this closet dweeb has the gall to set himself up as some sort of weekly columnist. It is to laugh.

The only reason he became a writer is because it means he doesn't have to interact with people in any way other than through a computer. It's perfect for someone who used to slink through high school corridors terrified that someone would notice him.

If I sound like I'm being harsh on Dave, I'm not. I really do like the guy because he does have a shred of talent. Nothing deep, mind you; a certain facility with the language, giving a nice surface gloss to his work; The strategically placed humor he's acclaimed for makes it all go down easy. Give it up, Dave. Surface gloss and gliter. He's the writer equivalent of the writer/artist; able to cover his inadequacies with glitz. And of course, you guys never notice.

Why should you? Most comics fans haven't had their mental taste buds grown in; either that, or they've been scalded away through years of being pummeled, like water against the surf, into nothingness.

Not that I blame you. It's not your fault. Week after week, year after year, the claptrap that comes down the chute which passes for entertainment can only have a demeaning and destructive effect on you; I've been reading it for so long that I wasn't certain whether to call this column "Chalk Board" or "Chalk Bored."

I mean, Dave's no wiz, but compared to some of the doo daa that's out there, he's practically Tolstoy.

Look at the comic out there that you guys have made number one: The Advantageous Spider-Man! Can you believe that thing? This comic comes out bagged, which is appropriate; if there's ever been anyone who should bag it as a creator, it's McFarlane! This guy is the writing equivalent of SCUDS; he launches his story with no clear direction, and it lands somewhere completely weird, causing random havoc and destruction.

A show of hands now. Who in the world buys this thing and doesn't feel like some sort of idiot? Of course, The McFar's visual storytelling deftness hasn't atrophied (unlike Marvel's artistic morals) and so it looks reeaaaal purdy, and you dweebs actually snap it up; There's nothing more pathetic than watching comics fans bravely going, "Well, gee, I think his writing's improving, don't you?" No, I don't! Give it up!

And Byrne! Now there's a winner. Finally, for the first time since Fantastic Four, he's found a book he'll stay on longer than twenty minutes. Namor the Sub-Mariner. Well, now gee...here's a comic book about a guy who is imperious, arrogant, snotty, conceited, pompous, superior, and usually all wet. Is there any wonder why this bozo would be someone Byrne-baby-Byrne could identify with? It can't be too hard for him to draw; all he has to do is look in the mirror! Give it up!

And good lord--has anyone read X-Men lately? Can anyone read X-Men lately? This thing reads like Chris Claremontezuma's Revenge! Claremontezuma's favorite movie has got to be "The Neverending Story." You can sure tell from this book; Mutant Massacre? Mutant Messacre is more like it.

This thing just goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on...; It's like the comic book equivalent of those old Timex commericals with John Cameron Swayze; you feel like you want to take Claremontezuma, tie him to an airplane wheel, send him through a blender, lash him to a propeller, drop him underwater, inflict all manner of physical punishment on him; and then you bring him up and the guy is still going, even though his works are waterlogged and going in circles.

And now there's going to be a new X-Men book! Cripes, we weren't expecting that now, were we. This one'll be bagged, I bet, which is good--because that way, at least unlike other mutant books, we won't be able to detect the stench! Give it up!

All of which is overseen by Tom Da Flako, nominal editor in chief. Da Flako obviously feels nothing decent has been done in comics since the 1960s, and clearly he's decided to maintain that tradition; this guy is the Piltdown Man of comics. Boy oh boy, I just can't wait to see what he does with Fantastic Four. I'm sure it'll be right up there with what he did with Thor, which in turn is right up there with dysentery and cholera. Give it up!

If I took over Marvel, the first thing I'd do is kill off all the mutants; all of them; especially Wolverine. I can't stand any of them. No one I know can stand any of them. People don't even read the books anymore; they just buy them so they can continue their collection. What's the point of producing stories if no one reads them? None, except to make money. Marvel, the house of recycled ideas, should be above that.

I'd kill off all the Avengers, and I'd keep Spider-Man, but knock it down to one title. Marvel did just fine throughout the 60s with only one Spider-Man title; keep McFarlane as artist, and get someone who can write. Someone who'll put a new slant and fresh perspective. Like Gary Groth. I bet Groth would be spectacular at fiction; have you read his editorials?

I'd drop all the licensed titles. Those are insults. It's like the old days of DC Comics. Remember when their top book was Jerry Lewis?

Not that the new days of DC are much better; here's a whole company that will publish anything as long as it comes from abroad; why don't they just change DC to UK?

Ever read one of those science fiction, alternate world stories in which the British won the American Revolution, and they speculate what the world would be like?

Wonder no more; just read DC Comics, chockful of tons of stories which are written in a confusing and oblique style; and readers everywhere are afraid to admit that they're lousy stories, because they were produced by British guys, and everyone knows Brits are better than Americans.

The claptrap that comes rolling across the English Channel is turgid, confusing and dull, and yet fans still attach all sorts of artistic merit to it because they're impressed by the snooty accents of the nominal creators. Look at some of the "acclaimed" works:

Arkham Asylum? The ones who belong in an asylum are those who think there's any merit to this overpriced nightmare. Is the whining wimp hero of the story supposed to be Batman? He has to enter a building, filled with a whole bunch of losers he already beat, in order to rescue some people. Whoa, scary stuff. Does he just climb up the side of the building? Does he sneak in in disguise? No. He walks in and lets the Joker goose him. Yeah, sure.

The Killing Joke? Batman yokking it up with a guy who, a few hours earlier, tortured Commissioner Gordon and hospitalized his daughter; what's next? High tea with Charles Manson?

And what about Alan Less-is-Moore's acclaimed "Swamp Thing?" Remember "American Gothic?"; What a dog and pony show that turned out to be. A supernatural odyssey that climaxes in a cosmic handshake? What the hell was that supposed to be? Why not a cosmic high-five?!

Doesn't anyone notice that virtually every single Brit-produced comic; from Animal Man to Marshall Law Takes Manhattan to Shade; is filled with page upon page of anti-American and anti-superhero invective? These people, as a country, clearly are envious and hating of Americans and do nothing but write comics that put us down.

And what do we do? Praise them for it, give them piles of American bucks [worth far more than their puny pounds] and invite them to insult us again. Give it up!

If I ran DC, I'd knock off all Batman titles except one, keep Superman except make him interesting, get rid of all the other "heros" in the DC universe since they're ruined anyway. Green Lantern is a drunk driver? The Flash as the fastest whiner on earth? Come on! And I'd stop producing high priced graphic novels and similar price-jacked material, because it's unfair to ask fans to keep buying them.

Not that my ideas for improvement are new; I've been writing to Marvel and DC for years with them. But they are so hidebound that they continue to ignore my suggestions; even though they would bring about a new age of quality and style to the comics industry.

Likewise, they ignore my story ideas. I presented my twelve-part epic, "The Final Crisis," the incredible Marvel/DC crossover that would, once and for all, knock off the vast majority of their characters so that it would leave the way clear to create new and exciting concepts. Also, I have submitted story and character ideas to various so-called editors on the average of two a week for the last three years.

I have yet to hear anything.

And that, people, is what infuriates me most of all. Because "The Big Two" are so married to people like David, McFarlane, Byrne, Claremont, Moore, Morrison; all of them; that they're afraid to let in someone who will really give the fans what they've been clamoring for.

I'm serious. There is more entertainment value in one page of "Nick Shan, the Esoteric Man" (one of the three titles of my proposed "Aesthetic World" cycle) than in any five entire issues of the average Marvel or DC Comic.

But no. They keep their blinders to the wind and continue to produce the sort of pablum that fans are forced to suck up. Pablum that will, sooner or later, completely erode their market base and send comics companies spiralling down into the financial toilet that they so richly and justly deserve.

And I, for one, will be standing over them laughing when it happens.

That's it for this installment of "Chalk Board." Now give it up!

So...how many of you, at some or all points in the preceeding, found yourself nodding or agreeing or just saying, "Yeah!" On the other hand, how many of you also wondered whether the foregoing was legit or not?

No, it's not legit. Vic Chalker doesn't exist.

Except I see his soul mates: in letters to me, or letters in letters columns, or in computer postings. Many of the preceding statements, in some form or other, have appeared in those forums, filled with bile and vituperation...not to mention mixed metaphors and bad punctuation.

No, Vic doesn't exist.

I think.

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