But first, by popular demand, you can read a transcript of the debate here.

———————–

Originally published November 12, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1043

Well, thank God that’s over.

Some random thoughts and recollections regarding “The Great Debate” that might bring some greater understanding of it all to those who were outside looking in:

A day or so after I had accepted Todd’s challenge, I was contacted by the Comicfest folks with the question as to what the debate should be called. They told me Todd’s suggestions were along the lines of, “The Scholar vs. the Holler,” “David vs. Goliath,” and so on. Putting aside how David vs. Goliath originally ended, I told Comicfest ‘93 that those titles were wildly inappropriate and unacceptable. A topic would have to be discussed. And no, it couldn’t be, “Why is Peter David telling lies about us?” because that automatically puts me on the defensive. Considering that was the subtext of the whole thing anyway, I was already feeling defensive enough as it was. Besides, a debate resolution is supposed to be phrased as neutrally as possible.

So I suggested, “Resolved: Image Comics—Have they received fair treatment from the media?” Todd subsequently agreed to this, with the modification of “Image/Todd McFarlane.”

Imagine my surprise when, a couple of weeks later, I see ads starting to surface featuring all the rejected titles, plus more. A circus mentality was shaping up with which I did not want to be associated. It was at that point that I insisted on more structured, formal presentations before the thing degenerated into a farce.

Bad luck for Todd, really. If he hadn’t run those ads and tipped his hand early as to what sort of spin he was planning to put on it, I very likely would not have urged greater structure to the proceedings.

You see, the problem when you realize that you’re getting into a mud wrestling match is, it doesn’t matter who wins. You wind up covered with mud no matter what you do.

*

Imagine, if you will, my annoyance. Here I agreed to the debate in order to answer rumor, innuendo, and challenges to my veracity—and the result was more rumor and innuendo. I’m speaking specifically of pros at Motor City Convention in Detroit who contended that Todd and I were in collusion the whole time, and that the debate had actually been arranged weeks before. Their proof? The ads that appeared in Image Comics with lightning speed. Rather than allow the possibility that house ads had been pulled at the last minute and replaced, they speculated that the entire thing was a set-up.

Right. Like I really worked with Todd to produce an ad that made him look like a lean, mean fighting machine, and me like Jabba the Hutt.

I say now and for the record: The first I heard of all this was when CBG contacted me about Todd’s written challenge. I had nothing to do with, and was never consulted on, any of the advertising. Several people told me I should sic my lawyers on Todd or demand apologies for unauthorized use of my name and “likeness” (gee, thanks). I appreciate the thought, but I doubt I’d have a case, and frankly I have better things to do with my time. Maybe not much better, but better.

(And no, as some others have insinuated, this was not some big publicity stunt to set up my writing an issue of Spawn. Sheesh.)

*

For several days I toyed with the idea of carrying on with the “Doctor” gag and having myself wheeled into the debate on a handtruck, wearing a straitjacket and mouth-covering mask a la Hannibal Lechter. Ultimately I decided it was not the way to go. Good for a laugh, bad for credibility.

*

To give an indication of how seriously I took this challenge, here’s what I did: First, I read four books on debating, argumentation, and speech. Then I organized a strategy session at my house wherein half a dozen folks whom I collectively referred to as “The Brain Trust” assembled, to work out directions to take and anticipate possible lines of attack from Todd. I presume Todd did the same. I’d like to think he did, at any rate.

(I will not mention the name of any member of the Brain Trust, in the thought that should any of them ever wind up in any business dealings with Image, I wouldn’t want it held against them.)

I poured over interviews Todd had done, finding contradictions and gaps in logic. I then retyped pertinent sections, pasted them onto index cards and referenced them by topic. Ultimately, I wound up only using half of them.

*

Key piece of material: Harlan Ellison faxed me a textbook definition of a psychological phenomenon called “paralogia,” a condition characterized by the subject’s inability to produce coherent logic. It was the single most damning piece of evidence I had outside of Todd’s own words. At the debate, I wound up only reading two of the five index cards I had on the subject, and it was enough to reduce the audience to hysterics since—at least on the surface—it all applied to Todd. Particularly when I cited the case study in which one patient concluded that he was, in fact, Switzerland, using the following reasoning: “Switzerland loves freedom. I love freedom. I am Switzerland.” I then pointed in Todd’s direction and said, “Ladies and gentlemen: Switzerland.” Which prompted Todd to acknowledge—echoing my own words about him—”He’s good.”

For those seeking further illumination—and Todd, if you’re reading this, I say this with all seriousness and genuine concern—read up on “Ganser’s Syndrome.” All jokes aside: The implications are just a little bit frightening.

*

An acquaintance predicted, “I bet you Todd shows up at the debate dressed in boxing trunks.” And I tried to picture that and said, “Nah. He wouldn’t go that far to turn it into a joke.”

*

When Don Thompson had to drop out as moderator due to illness (He’s better now. But try and take it a little easier, will ya, Don?), the organizers asked me who I’d like to see replace him.

I suggested Bob Ingersoll. It made sense to me: prominent comics professional and a lawyer. Lawyers are certainly familiar with debate format and are accustomed to seeing both sides of an issue. It seemed a reasonable choice.

They came back to me and told me that Todd had rejected my choice. I was flabbergasted. I’d given Todd carte blanche to pick all three judges without a word from me—and now he declined my choice of substitute moderator? “Todd has some suggestions of his own,” I was told—and was even more shocked when informed that one of the choices was George Perez.

“Does he know George and I are working together? That we’re friends?” I asked. I was told yes. That Todd was naming George in order to make me feel more comfortable. Me, I would have been perfectly comfortable with an impartial party, but OK.

I mention it here, though, so that everyone knows that it’s not as if I panicked and demanded that a friend of mine be made moderator. Also, it should be known that George did the illustration that ran in last week’s column several weeks before he was tapped to moderate.

George, who was on the debating team in school, kept a firm hand on things. He quieted down several comics pros who were heckling from the audience, and lent an air of dignity to the proceedings.

*

In my opening remarks, I commented on the “bravery” of writing an opinion column in which the writer attacks one’s own bosses, and compared it to the behavior of the Image folks wherein they waited until leaving Marvel before making critical attacks. And then I added, “Or at least writing critical essays and having the guts to sign their names to them.”

This, of course, was a clear reference to the famous “Name Withheld” letter in CBG, wherein an anonymous artist said that writers were no longer needed or wanted.

What was interesting was that, when I made that allusion, several people noted that Erik Larsen tossed me an obscene gesture. Fans and pros have speculated on computer boards that Erik was the author of the letter. Infer from Erik’s reaction what you will.

*

People were asking afterwards what Todd was hoping to gain from all of this. Well, it seems obvious to me that he’s gained several things from this:

First, he got Image a ton of publicity.

Second, remember that, when Image first started, they were widely regarded as the underdogs. As time went on and the honeymoon ended—and as its members proceeded to insult retailers, readers, and professionals—views on them shifted into a less positive direction. Todd, being the most outspoken and swaggering, took the brunt of this disenchantment.

What he managed to do at the debate was paint himself as the underdog once more, a status that worked so effectively for him in the past. He used “the humble approach,” as I predicted in my opening remarks, taken to levels that even I would not have anticipated.

Hell, even I was feeling sorry for him about midway through. The problem was that I was the only one in the room who could not afford to. If I eased up, pulled back as much as I wanted to—well, Todd still had a box of props under his podium, a remote control at hand which regulated who-knew-what, plus cheerleaders and at least one costumed character walking around. At any given moment he could have performed a Barnum-and-Bailey comeback and left me in the dust.

Not to mention that, as the debate wore on, I probably had difficulty hiding my irritation over the fact that I was becoming more and more convinced that this was a waste of time. I am not superhuman nor particularly skilled at concealing my feelings. My opponent’s most effective tactic seemed to be eliciting pity for being overmatched—yet he had challenged me.

So I felt as if I was walking a fine line, trying to be firm and forceful without seeming bullying. It was not easy.

*

I’ll give Todd this: He took losing a lot better than I would have.

He suggested we make this an annual event, and that I issue a challenge next time. I think not, for reasons that I will make clear in a bit.

*

At the end, a young man dressed in jacket and tie came up to me and said something to the following effect: “Mr. David, I want to be a comic book writer, and I was really discouraged because it seemed as if being a writer in comics was useless and irrelevant. Thank you for restoring my faith.”

I don’t know if anything could have made me feel that the whole enterprise was worthwhile, but if anything could, that was it.

*

I had the following things up on the podium with me: my index cards; a picture of my three children; and a postcard from Harlan addressed to Peter “Mr. Socratic Dialogue” David, which read: “The lesson this vainglorious endeavor should teach, I suggest, is to know when one has made the self-immolating mistake of confusing vanity for honor. The unexamined life is not worth living, Grasshopper.”

Despite his contention (before, during and after) that agreeing to the debate was a mistake, Harlan was nevertheless quite helpful (see the paralogia business above). He was also right, which he is an annoyingly large part of the time. I should never have let myself get sucked into the whole thing.

When Todd issued his challenge, I should have said, “If you say I’ve been spreading lies, trot them out. Otherwise don’t waste my time. I have nothing to prove to you. Have a good time at Comicfest and say what you want, but I won’t be there.”

But my problem was twofold.

First, I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life going to conventions and having fans say to me, “Why were you afraid to debate Todd McFarlane?” I didn’t want them to think that I had something to hide and was not to be trusted.

Second was that I went to junior high and high school in a New Jersey jock town, where guys like me spent most of our days being shoved around by the kind of guys who said, “C’mon out and fight! You brave enough? You man enough?” They made fun of the fat kid with glasses, and wrote “Fag” on my locker.

And I took it.

And now, twenty years later, the right thing would have been to ignore the taunts Todd hurled. Just like I did, or tried to do, in junior high and high school.

But this time—this time, I did not have the strength of character—I could not find it within myself—to do the right thing.

*

What’s really sad about all this is that when I worked with Todd on Incredible Hulk, he had no bigger booster than me. I told anyone who would listen that he had what it took to go places. I cited his quantum leap improvements in anatomy and storytelling, not only from issue to issue, but sometimes from page to page. I was tremendously excited by his progress.

When he asked if Wolverine could guest star, I (along with Bob Harras) engaged in weeks of negotiation and coordinating with the X-Men office, and I spoke extensively with Chris Claremont, in order to set it up. When Todd asked me to loosen up my choreography of the fight scenes to give him more leeway and participation, I promptly did so, because I so enjoyed working with him.

Granted I was sad when he left Hulk—but that’s understandable, I think. I’m sad when any creative partner leaves.

And I will never forget when he came up to me at the San Diego Comic-Con after he’d taken on Amazing Spider-Man, and said to me, “Y’know, bud, I love doing Spider-Man and everything but, boy, do I miss the stories you gave me to draw.”

I wanted nothing but as much success for Todd as he could achieve. I wanted to enjoy that success, being able to think, “I knew him when.” And it saddens me beyond my ability to express that his actions, his attitudes, and his revisionist views of our working relationship—his need to cast roles of good guy and bad guy—have deprived me of that opportunity.

*

Each of us posed three questions to each other. Naturally this prompts—TOP TEN QUESTIONS I DID NOT ASK TODD McFARLANE:

10) How’s the wife?

9) How’s the baby?

8 ) Who put the ram in the ramma-lamma ding dong?

7) Would you please spell “Image” and then say “light bulb”?

6) Think the Blue Jays will repeat?

5) What is your name?

4) What is your quest?

3) What is the average wing speed of an unladen swallow?

2) Where did he get those wonderful toys?

1) If you are chosen Miss America, what will you do to help bring about world peace?

*

As a good luck charm, I was wearing an item I’d picked up at a celebrity auction: A necktie worn (and autographed) by Joe Pesci in the famous final courtroom scene from My Cousin Vinny. My only problem was avoiding referring to the Image guys as “Yoots.”

*

I was thinking of sending Todd, as a sort of gag conciliatory gift, a box of Swiss chocolates. So I went to the local candy store. They had none there. But the sales girl produced a box of Belgian chocolates and said, “Maybe these will do. Is Belgium in Switzerland?”

Is Belgium…

…in…

… Switzerland?

I think, next year, I’m going to debate her.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, is amused by the way that Wizard people and Comicfest people are each blaming the other for one of the most ill-advised ideas to hit a comic con since—well, ever, I think. Namely, a pamphlet handed out at the convention that graded comic pros in terms of popularity. I’m told it’s commonplace in baseball circles. Fine. So is jock itch. Doesn’t mean it should be carried over. Fortunately pros—especially those who didn’t rank A,B,C or D—tried not to take it seriously and mockingly took to wearing their letter designations (with the addition of “E,” for those not listed) on their badges. And, who knows, maybe the fans even appreciated the “guidance.” But it ticked off a lot of people. Since all concerned are trying to distance themselves from it, I think we can safely surmise that it won’t be cropping up again. Good. Grade for the idea: F.)

Anyone know any females in the DCU with the first name “Amber?”

I already know the Amber who is one of the personalities of Chain Lightning, although if she has a last name, that would be good to know.

PAD

For the past ten years, the TrekTrack at Dragon*Con has had, as its last panel, a solo hour with me. I was dubious about the proposition initially, but it’s become something of a tradition and I usually have a packed house. Apparently a number of people have gotten used to finishing out the convention with that hour. So imagine their surprise when the schedule was posted this year and it was gone.

Wasn’t my idea. Someone new was put in charge of the programming. I got the schedule a few weeks ago and fired off an email pointing out the omission. I never received a response. And now the schedule is up, and people are inquiring of both me and Kathleen what the hell happened.

Well, I’m the wrong person to ask. Apparently the person you should be asking is Dave Gordon. He wasn’t responsible for the omission, but he’s the person to address. Be nice; be polite; remember, it wasn’t his call. He can be reached at:

fantrackops@dragoncon.org

Meanwhile, what took the place of the hour with me? A generic hour in which fans are supposed to discuss what went right and wrong with Trek programming. Yeah; I wonder how that’s gonna go?

PAD

Originally published November 5, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1042

Art by George Pérez.  J.J. Sachs © 1993-2010 Second Age, Inc. and George Pérez.  Incredible Hulk © 1993-2010 Marvel Entertainment Group, Inc.  Spawn © 1993-2010 Todd McFarlane Productions Inc.

And this Democrat cleared the primaries and was the Senatorial candidate, I swear to God I’d vote Republican.

Originally published October 29, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1041

I am sitting on the stairs outside the room, rocking slightly, feeling the twisted knots in my stomach, and trying to decide once more whether I should go to the men’s room and throw up.

Me right before “The Great Debate?” Hardly. That wasn’t for two weeks yet.

(Oh, sure, the debate had become something of an albatross already. A call-in radio interview to a new Chicago program about comics had had approximately the first eight minutes dedicated to discussing the thing. It had left me two minutes to talk about everything else going on in my life, making me sound like the Modern Major General. (“There’s Sachs & Violens, Soulsearchers and Spidey 2099 and Hulk.”) At a Minneapolis comics convention, the debate was not the first question I received in my solo slot; it was the second. Since Todd’s likely goal in this matter was not dissemination of information (a letter would have accomplished that) but publicity for himself, he had already more than accomplished that.)

No, my nervousness was generated by something else entirely. I was seated (crouched, perched) outside a screening room at Paramount Pictures (or whatever the hell they might wind up calling it this week), where the cast and crew of Trancers IV was assembling. Charlie Band, the head of Full Moon Entertainment, was screening the movie for all involved, plus the Paramount executive suit types.

(For those who came in late, Trancers is a series of adventure films starring Tim Thomerson as a time travelling detective named Jack Deth. I wrote the fourth and fifth installments in the series which filmed earlier this year, simultaneously, in Romania, the low budget film capital of the world. Avoiding the science fiction trappings of the first three, I took the series off in a different direction and dropped the hero in an alternate-dimension sword-and-sorcery environment.)

In reality, there was no reason to be nervous. It’s not like this was going to be a hostile audience; it was the equivalent of playing in front of the home team crowd. Better, actually. The home team crowd can turn on you (just ask the Mets.) It didn’t seem tremendously likely that people were going to start throwing things at the screen.

I wasn’t going to have all that many opportunities to see the film on a genuine movie screen. Trancers IV is another Full Moon blockbuster release—meaning that it’s going to be released in Blockbuster and similar straight-to-video outlets. Nevertheless, the enthusiasm and effort put into the film by cast and crew could not have been any greater were the film going to be released nationally with the premiere being held at Mann’s Chinese Theater.

My friend and occasional collaborator, Bill Mumy, stands there and watches me fighting the dry heaves. “Do you ever feel like this before something like this?” I ask him. “Oh sure,” he says. “I get that way all the time. Bathroom’s right over there. You should throw up, if it’ll make you feel better.” Somehow, though, I can’t bring myself to do that. If nothing else, I find unappetizing the thought of saying “hi” to people or (as is big in Hollywood) hugging or kissing someone, and smelling of vomit. So I bring myself under control and head into the screening room.

There is something strangely unreal about seeing all the actors in the relatively mundane setting of Los Angeles. Somehow Romania took on its own reality. As unreasonable as it may seem, it nevertheless feels odd to see these folks away from their “normal” (to me) environment of the Buftea Studios half an hour out of Bucharest.

Nevertheless, it’s great to see everyone. The cloistered, sequestered nature of filming a movie in a foreign country brought everyone together there, giving a strong feeling of family. Everyone is greeting everyone else, hugging and kissing and no one stinking of vomit, so I figure my strategy was the right one.

Not everyone is there. Tim Thomerson is conspicuously absent, working on a film in South Africa. When it comes to working cast members, he’s in the minority. Terri Ivens, who plays our intrepid rebel leader, Shaleen, has a recurring role in Roseanne as Darlene’s roommate. Another actress, Stacie Randall, has just come off a Catwoman-like role in Ghoulies IV, another straight-to-video release that was significantly less enjoyable for her than Trancers IV. Our director, David Nutter, was patient and meticulous. The Ghoulies director was not interested in waiting for lighting to be correct, or any of the details that make so much difference in a film. “David Nutter spoiled me,” wails Stacie.

Jeff Moldovan, our stunt coordinator, is back in Romania working on another Full Moon project. David, our director, is up in Vancouver working on an episode of The X-Files, a program on Fox.

Everyone else is back to the usual job of being an actor, which is having no job. It strikes me as a remarkably difficult life that must have to mean a lot to you in order for you to pursue it. Kind of like writing, now that I think about it.

I’m busy anticipating that, after the film, the Trancers family will head out to some big celebratory meal or drinks or something like that. Then the lights start to come down and the opening credits begin to roll. As in most instances where I’m worked up about something, the nervousness vanishes the moment that the actual event is at hand.

I have been with this film every step of the way, watched every piece of it. I’ve been there for filming, watched dailies. (I have three hours worth of dailies at home.) I’ve seen preliminary cut-together scenes. I have a rough cut of the film: The entire movie, but without music, sound effects, visual effects, and all the other aspects that turn a filmed story into a movie.

I have listened to a tape of the music so many times that entire cuts are committed to memory. But I have yet to see it all pieced together. No matter how long you study the individual parts of a jigsaw puzzle, they’re not going to resemble the final image until you see them assembled.

The opening titles come on, and immediately there is a confused murmur from a handful of audience members. I know why. It’s the title. The working title had been Trancers IV: Deth’s Door. After filming, however, this title was dropped because, frankly, it rhymed, and, therefore, sounded a little stupid.

A vast array of suggested titles followed from a variety of sources, virtually all of them having the name “Deth” in them as the previous three had. The one finally chosen was Angel of Deth, which I absolutely hated. Oh, it was a perfectly good title for, say, a film about a serial killer who preyed on clergymen. But it didn’t seem to have anything remotely to do with our film. Just who was the “Angel” of the title supposed to be, anyway? Finally I approached Charlie Band with yet another possibility, utilizing both the sword-and-sorcery venue and our hero’s first name: Jack of Swords. Charlie said he liked it, but informed me it was too late. The opening credits were already done. At which point I dropped it.

But Charlie didn’t. Upon subsequent reflection, he decided he liked the title too much to let it go, and so he spent the extra money and recut the opening sequence (at, literally, the last moment). Thus the confusion from some audience members as Trancers IV: Jack of Swords appeared on the screen.

As familiar as I was with the film in its earlier stages, it was like watching something entirely different upon seeing the final product. Some random thoughts:

*The cast member who seemed to be having the best time at the screening was also the oldest: Alan Oppenheimer, who played the Obi-Wan-esque wise man, Farr. He laughed the most loudly at the jokes, and seemed the most appreciative of the entire film. Oppenheimer is a long-time character actor, and I imagine that one does not stay in the extremely demanding world of show business for that long unless one really enjoys it.

*Seeing the words “Screenplay by Peter David” on the screen thrilled me more than I thought it would.

*A number of the smaller parts were played by Romanian actors, and all of their voices were subsequently looped by American actors. It was unavoidable: When you have the principal characters speaking with what’s termed a mid-Atlantic accent, sounding as if they wandered in from the Old Vic, you can’t have the supporting cast talking like Bela Lugosi. Particularly since most of them were unfamiliar with English and had to struggle with the lines, anyway. Example: a female character named Titania is heard to say, “If you harm him, I’ll kill you.” That’s the final version. But previously it sounded like this: “Eeef yooo haarhm heeem, I keeel yoo.”

That was not a hard-and-fast attitude, however. In the rough cut that I saw, I was impressed by the British actor they had gotten for a minor character named Borgia. I asked the director where they’d found him. “Isn’t he great?” said Dave Nutter. “He’s Romanian; he was putting on a British accent.” He remained undubbed.

*During several sequences in production, I served as a stand-in. When the leering torturer approaches Jack Deth, sizzling poker at the ready, he was actually coming toward me. When Titania lunges forward with her sword to stab a character, I was standing off camera providing the target with an upraised palm. That woman stabbed my hand a dozen times. Come to think of it, by the time I left the filming, I was starting to feel pretty damned paranoid.

*Different actors around me reacted differently when they came on the screen. Some watched intently. Some grinned. Some looked away. Interesting.

*Unquestionably, the sequence that got the best reaction was when Jack Deth’s main weapon, the long second watch, malfunctions. Instead of slowing the rest of the world down, it slowed down only Jack himself. The effect was done not in camera, but instead by having Tim Thomerson moving in slow motion. Thomerson pulled it off to perfection.

*My cameo appearance made the final cut. Jack Deth has just broken free from his imprisonment in the torture chamber. He’s standing at a table, getting his weapons together. Suddenly from off camera my voice is heard, shouting, “The Prisoner! He’s escaping!” I charge on and Jack cuts my throat. I go down, making gagging noises—except it’s not my voice doing the choking. The noises I produced on the set were not loud enough, and so Dave Nutter himself provided my last gasps in post-production. Nevertheless, I’ve made my (albeit brief) film debut. I would tend to think that there are some individuals out there who will probably watch that sequence very slowly, savoring every frame.

*It’s interesting to watch the final credits on a film roll wherein the names up there actually mean something to you.

The lights come up and everyone is congratulating each other. Mumy’s gone on ahead to make some phone calls. Me, I’m still savoring the moment. We’re all heading outside and I’m wondering where we’re going to go together. After all, we’re a unit, aren’t we? The Trancers family, as it were? What’s next, guys?

And the cast and crew shakes hands with one another, and people head off to their respective cars. And they drive off to go on about their separate business. On to the next thing.

And I’m left alone in front of the screening room.

Cut. Print.

The end.

Actually, Bugs Bunny was being unfair. Albuquerque is a lovely place and that’s where I am for Bubonicon 42 where I am slated to be Guest of Honor. Tonight I’ll be taking in an Albuquerque Isotopes games (a baseball team named for the episode of “The Simpsons” where the Springfield Isotopes were relocating to New Mexico, thereby removing the state from consideration as one of the places where the Simpsons home town is.) And tomorrow I’ll be doing a store appearance at a comic book store, Astro-Zombies, from 1-3, before the convention actually gets started.

I brought a minimal amount of stuff to sell, but if anyone ever wanted to buy the script to my episode of “Ben 10: Alien Force,” you’ll have the chance.

PAD

Because of them, I found out about ABC’s special deal where the first 50,000 visitors to a specified site were able to watch the pilot of the new superhero themed show, “No Ordinary Family,” starring Michael Chiklis (last seen playing a not-dissimilar role as a big strong guy in “The Fantastic Four“) and Julie Benz (last seen playing a somewhat dissimilar role as a lesbian stripper who wants to start a better career in “Desperate Housewives.” Because when you want to introduce a character who is going to cut across all interest groups, you really can’t go wrong with a petite blonde lesbian stripper who wants to start a better career.)

The premise is simple to anyone who’s familiar with either the FF or for that matter, “The Incredibles.” A dysfunctional family goes on a trip that ends badly with a plane crash into a particularly unusual section of the Amazon (the river, not the book dealer) and as a result acquire superpowers that Just So Happen to be tailored to their respective personalities.

It would be rude to dwell on spoilers for a show that won’t air for over a month, so just speaking in broad strokes, it’s a fun, well-acted, family-friendly show that doesn’t take itself too seriously and gives hints of a broader universe within that I would think will be followed up in subsequent episodes. We’ll definitely be watching.

PAD

Originally published October 22, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1040

Both Rob Liefeld and the fans have had an opportunity to respond to my column on giving credit where credit is due. Let’s see where we stand.

To briefly recap: The notion of who created Cable came about when I used that character as one of several illustrations in outlining the (admittedly tongue-in-cheek-named) WACKO theory of creation. The conclusion I came to was that Cable was a group creation that has ultimately become directionless and one-note and that the creator in this instance was Marvel Comics. I did, however, acknowledge the involvement of all concerned—most prominently Cable’s first visualizer, Rob Liefeld.

Rob replied that he was “a stickler for credit,” believing that credit should be given “where it’s due.” Based on that, he claimed sole creative credit for the character and insulted Louise Simonson while he was at it.

To show the world just what a strong credit giver Rob was, I wrote a column outlining a number of Rob’s art swipes, the type that are so blatant that the style of the page varies depending upon who he’s swiping. The swipes, obviously, were not credited. I also pointed out that Rob historically is not big on giving writers credit for anything unless it’s negative, as witnessed by his firing of friend Hank Kanalz after Youngblood #1, stating that it had been Kanalz’s dialogue which ruined the comic.

Rob responded that he was not swiping, but instead was “tributing” them… the first known use of the word “tribute” as a verb. He listed eight additional “tributes” to the two (one from Frank Miller’s Ronin, the other from a John Byrne Fantastic Four) that he tacitly admitted to, claiming that there were 10 total, making one for every 150 pages of his work. He likened it to DePalma’s “Hitchcock” riffs. He listed Byrne, Kirby, Miller and Perez as the definitive list of genius artists whom he has “tributed.” He ignored the question of Kanalz and writers entirely. Oh, and he still created Cable.

Now I could address the questionable semantics here and point out that Rob Liefeld calling art theft a “tribute” is like a bank robber calling his haul an “honorarium.”

I could point out the somewhat bizarre defense of hiding behind DePalma’s shameless usurping of Hitchcock and ask Rob whether he read any reviews of DePalma’s work, where he was mercilessly taken to task for a practice that film critics found to be deplorable.

I might even point out that his entire rationale proceeds from a false assumption: namely, that those to whom he was paying tribute necessarily appreciate said tribute. Now I haven’t spoken to Kirby or Miller, but Byrne seemed less than grateful (“He keeps picking the poses of mine that I hated,” said Byrne) and George Perez posted a message onto CompuServ excoriating the entire practice of swiping. That’s a 50% lack of support right there.

As for the notion that Rob has “tributed” only 10 ten times, the readers of But I Digress seem to have found differently.

There was a lot of overlap in submissions. I got more copies of Rob’s admitted swipe from New Teen Titans than I care to see again.

Another swipe that I got quite a few of, however, was one that was cited first in Marvel Year in Review. A depiction from G.I. Joe Yearbook of the character called “Roadblock” turned up again, right there on the cover of the Cable trade paperback (which one reader cattily suggested be renamed, in a parody of Youngblood: Strikefile, the Rob Liefeld Swipefile). The posing and linework is identical, right down to the shells draped around him. There is minute variance in the gun, but that’s all.

Surprisingly, Rob left it off his tribute list. For that matter, he left the artist, Michael Golden, completely off his list of acknowledged geniuses.

The devastatingly accurate eye of Stephen Boomgaard of Melville, N.Y., nailed more Perez New Teen Titans #39 art that Rob also mysteriously forgot. A panel of Boom Boom from X-Force #1 throwing a blast ball is an identical pose to Robin throwing a Batarang. (Feral’s pose on panel five of that same page also looks, to me, similar to a John Byrne illustration of the Human Torch from one of the previously-cited issues of Fantastic Four. That’s just off the top of my head, though. Verification is welcome. Maybe Rob will provide it.)

Frank Stone from Stockton, California, offers us two more. Frank writes, “What If? (second series) #7: In the midst of a frenzied fight scene, Black Widow delivers a flying kick to a bad guy. Trouble is, she looks just like she did in Elektra Saga #4…in that selfsame What If?, Wolverine dives downward with claws extended, ready to rumble—just like in Uncanny X-Men #134, penciled by John Byrne!”

But wait, you say! Little panels don’t count! You want to see…big panels! You got it, courtesy once again of Stephen “Boom Boom” Boomgaard. Stephen gives us, courtesy of—of all things—a Marvel Word Games book, a spot illustration of Iron Fist in action. The original source isn’t known, but it’s clearly John Byrne’s work. Perhaps under the assumption that, since Marvel can do it, he can do it, Rob copied it over for the frequently “tributed” Shatterstar in X-Force #6. The only difference is that in Byrne’s version, Iron Fist’s right fist looks slightly relaxed; in Rob’s, it’s turned forward and clenched. Look on the bright side, though: Maybe Byrne likes this pose better.

That’s six (counting the uncontested and aforementioned Doctor Doom swipe from the previous column). There were many more where the inspiration was clearly evident, but I was not as 100% sure as I was with these. Sometimes it’s a judgment call. Inking variations can alter the final look, for one thing. And if Rob and Todd are going to blow off the very similar “Wolverine” poses I cited, I wanted to make sure that the follow ups were indisputable… I happen to think these are.

As for Rob’s general view of writers—which, as noted, he made no effort to dispute—I offer the following letter from Joe Cavanaugh of Rome, N.Y.

“It really [annoyed me] to see Rob dismissing Hank Kanalz so casually, like he was just some guy off the street that big-hearted Rob gave a chance. He may not remember, but he and Hank had been friends for years, and Hank was involved with the development of the Youngblood series almost from the beginning.

“Back in 1985-87, Rob and Hank were in two apas [amateur press associations] together: TitanTalk and YHapa. In TT, they worked together on a Titans West team… then Rob started getting pro work and shopping around his first version of Youngblood, which he was set to do for Megaton. As Hank said in YHapa #22, Sept. 1987:

‘After the initial deal with Megaton dissolved, Rob approached me to dialogue the book for Malibu and to (formally) write up the proposal. (This) was the framework Rob gave me with my fleshing out certain character aspects and histories.’

“I’ve included a copy of part of that proposal. Note how, on the first page, Hank says, `Let me know what you think, Rob,’ which sure suggests that much of this background development was Hank’s. Note how each page carries the line `Material copyright 1987 Rob Liefeld and Hank Kanalz.’

“Granted, this isn’t exactly the version of Youngblood coming at us from Image. But that team clearly evolved from this one. Yet in Youngblood #1, Hank is just listed under dialogue, while Rob gets a solo ‘creator’ tag. Seems to me that Hank deserves at least some credit (there’s that word again) for the development of Youngblood. He sure as hell deserves better than the way Rob brushes him off in that Hero interview. And he sure as hell does not deserve having the Youngblood #1 mess dumped on his head.”

Just for the sake of argument (something we’re accustomed to), let’s say the above is true and Hank was shortchanged in the creative end for Youngblood. If it were true (we’re not saying it is, remember, but if it were) what possible motive could Rob have for treating an old friend in that manner? Well… I’m not offering absolute answers here… but here’re some words of wisdom: “The answer, pure and simple, is money… there’s money to be made from all the various licensing that these characters become involved in… the bigger something gets, the more people claim credit of it. It’s sick and it’s dishonest.” The foregoing, as you suspect, is a tribute from Rob Liefeld’s letter in CBG #1031.

Let’s sum up here, shall we?

We’ve just seen Rob’s one swipe per 150 pages drop to one swipe for every 93.75 pages. Certainly someone who has modeled 501 jeans can understand the notion of closing the gap. But can we actually get enough “tributes” to bring us to a 1-to-1 ratio? Only you, the readers, can determine that. Keep those swipes and letters coming in to: “Sticklers for Credit,” c/o To Be Continued, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, New York, 11705. The buttons will be going out shortly; it’s simply a matter of sitting down and addressing all the envelopes. As for Rob’s—I’ll be giving them to Todd McFarlane in Philadelphia, so he can hand them to Rob personally.

And Rob—maybe you’re starting to wonder what the point of all this is. Okay, so your admitted swipe list just jumped by 60%. Other people swipe too. So what?

A) So you said you believe in giving credit where credit’s due, and that claim—upon which your entire credibility hinges—has been severely undermined.

B) So you said there were only ten “tributes,” and we’re at sixteen and counting.

C) So you said you were the sole creator of Cable.

Given (A) and (B)…

Why should we believe (C)?

(Peter David, writer of stuff, notes that the Rob Liefeld interview originally scheduled for Hero #5 was bumped forward to #4. We apologize for any inconvenience.)

In the DC Universe, are there any established police officers or police detectives who are (a) not secretly superheroes and (b) operate out of New York City? Not Metropolis or Gotham, but New York City.

PAD

Jim Valentino’s “Fractured Fables” project, which should be instantly understandable to anyone who has fond memories of the old “Fractured Fairy Tales” cartoons, got an excellent write up in “Ain’t It Cool News.” Since this happens to be my website, I’ll single out what they said about my contribution:

The Little Mermaid: I did this list chronologically how they appear in the book, but if I had to pick a “best-of-the-best” this would be it. Art and story combine fantastically to reinvent the babe aquatic’s tale. While the “be careful what you wish for” message is still firmly intact, Peter David’s traditional humor and wit shines through in every panel. Juan Ferreyra paints some damn pretty seascapes and has a great time on dry land as well making all of our favorite Mermaid’s wishes and horrors come to life.

And the Washington Times also had many positive comments about the book. Once again, being an egomaniac, I’ll single out what they said about my story:

The adventure of “The Little Mermaid” turns much more ominous in the hands of comics scribe extraordinaire Peter David as her quest to live happily ever after with a human prince becomes a puzzling problem in podiatry. Artist Ron Ferrara (sic) offers ample arch support for the mermaid’s issues.

The reviewers had nice things to say about many of the other stories as well. Check out the book when you have a chance.

PAD

Originally published September 3, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1033

“If it’s something that I’m a stickler for, it’s credit. Give it when it’s due.” –Rob Liefeld

“Be careful of what you wish for. You may get it.” –Old Chinese Proverb

“Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.“ –Bill Bixby as Dr. Banner

So Rob Liefeld wants credit.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen… lend me your ears. To paraphrase Shakespeare, I come not to bury Rob… but to praise him.

Anyone who so diligently lives his life by the credo of giving credit where credit is due must certainly have his request honored to the maximum ability that this column, and its crack research team, can muster.

Since Rob expressed his gratitude to me for bringing up the matter of Cable’s origins–thereby providing him an opportunity to depict Louise Simonson, one of the sweetest and most talented women in the industry, as a profit hungry, acclaim grubbing leech–I feel it only fair to continue in my Rob-sanctioned efforts to spread credit around.

Certainly Rob himself is liberal enough. The gent dispenses more credit than Citibank. For example, in an interview conducted by Paul Grant that will appear in issue #5 of Hero, due out in October (and the Hero folks were kind enough to allow me to print this excerpt in BID a full two months before the magazine, so all of you be sure to head out to the newsstand in October and pick up the ‘zine when it hits the stands), Rob doles out the appropriate credit for the creative debacle called Youngblood #1.

“Youngblood #1 was a disaster, period, end of story. Put it behind me. It will always exist, but disaster. I worked with a friend, who I let go after that, who scripted the book. And when we reprint the first four issues, or zero through four, the whole probably will be rescripted and people will see how different, a different script on top of it. I did not write that. People, I was doing on that what I did on X-Force. I plotted it, and Fabian Nicieza would come in and script on me on X-Force. I plotted Youngblood #1, and I wanted two stories on each side. Little things like `To be continued’ didn’t get stamped down in the right places. I mean, that was a production problem, but the writing–you know the whole package, I look back and I go, you know, never gonna shake it that I can acknowledge that it didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to. Two, three and four, I’ll hold them up against any other comic book in terms of there’s a story going along, and the characters are wrapped up in it, battle one large villain character, and it was resolved.”

There it is, folks. From Rob himself–the reason that Youngblood had such an abysmal launch. Never mind that the first test of a comic book page is that you should be able to look at it unscripted and still be able to have some idea of what’s happening (it’s called “storytelling”). Never mind the bad anatomy, lack of correct perspective, and non-existent backgrounds. Never mind that the book shipped, and continued to ship, months late.

Rob squarely gives credit for the pure lousiness of Youngblood to “friend” Hank Kanalz.

Wotta guy. Wotta guy. I can only think of the Genie from Aladdin singing, “You ain’t never had a friend like me.”

In the world of Rob Liefeld, the writer exists to clean up after his mess. The writer as scapegoat: To be blamed when things crash and burn, and to be ignored–or even vilified–when things go well. To serve the convenience and whims of Rob Liefeld, master of credit.

He seems truly flummoxed that Kanalz was not able to do for him what Nicieza did for him: Namely, make him look good. Turn the you-know-what to shinola. After all, aren’t all writers interchangeable? All eminently equal and, likewise, disposable?

The inference to be drawn is that the much-despised Louise Simonson also slaved to make sense out of the pin-upped chaos that is a Liefeld page. She managed well enough to help make him a mega-star, and for that, she deserves… well, nothing but Rob’s approbation, it seems. Perhaps–and this is purely speculation on my part–perhaps she departed the X-books because she decided that staying where she was clearly not appreciated made even less sense than a page of Liefeld art.

Liefeld art.

By cracky, let’s keep doling out that credit which Rob values so highly, shall we?

As we know by know, image is everything. The artwork is the be-all, end-all of comics. As far as Rob is concerned, Louise’s contribution to Cable was negligible, non-existent. The words didn’t matter. Whatever Louise’s talents may have brought to the mix didn’t matter. Only the visuals mattered.

And credit should be given where credit is due.

You want it, Rob? You got it.

I yanked out the Cable trade paperback, plus some back issues I had of X-Force (gleefully tearing pages out and faxing them around), and the IBIDS–the Intrepid But I Digress Staff–swung into action. The mission was a simple one: Give Credit.

Now let’s not kid ourselves. Copying art poses is commonplace enough in this industry. Everyone knows about it. Lots of people do it. (Curiously, when writers do it, it’s called plagiarism, and is considered to be as low as a writer can sink; whereas when artists do it, it’s called swiping, and is considered a means of reference. Thus is the coin of the idea held to a higher standard than the art of the visual; but that never seems to occur to anyone.)

Let us also clarify the difference between referencing and swiping. Most, if not all, artists, use reference ranging from real life to work by others in their field. It’s done so that they can produce the best work possible. They want to “get it right,” as it were. Certainly there’s nothing wrong with that.

Nor is there anything wrong with an artist whose style is clearly influenced by another’s. No one came into this business in a vacuum.

Swiping, however, is another matter. It’s a sign of laziness. It’s a shortcut, a means of not having to work as hard. It’s when you’re too lazy to design your own page layouts, or figure something out on your own. So you have detailed files that show how superior artists in the field did things, and you stick them in where appropriate.

Drawing something in the style of, say, Will Eisner, is one thing. Doing a line-for-line copy of a page of Eisner, however, followed by John Bolton, followed by Wally Wood… that’s just a hodgepodge. It’s cheating.

In a nutshell–an artist whose using reference still produces work that looks consistently like his own style. A swipe artist produces work that’s all over the place.

And since Rob Liefeld so stridently claims that credit must be given, why, we can–nay, must–assume that if he were engaging in swiping (which I’m not saying he is), that he would, in fact, be crediting it.

Which means that any resemblance between a piece of Rob Liefeld art and some other artwork would have to be…

…coincidence.

And if by some hideous happenstance, they were in fact “homages,” why then, we’d have to make sure they were credited because, gosh darn it, Rob wants it that way.

Page 131, panel two of the Cable trade paperback, there’s a very impressive panel of Sunfire being tossed backwards. By staggering coincidence, an identical panel first appeared, line for line, in Fantastic Four #247. John Byrne: You deserve credit. Stand up and take a bow for your artistry. Why, y’know… I bet Rob’s doubtlessly-intended credit to John was supposed to appear on that very page, and dumb ol’ Louise forgot to write it down. Sure. That’s it.

On page 159, the first panel has Wolverine charging in profile. Now it’s not absolutely, 100% identical to a similar sequence on Page 17 of the Ground Zero trade paperback, drawn by Todd McFarlane. But it’s close. You be the judge.

The main difference is that Todd has Wolverine with his left arm sweeping in front of him. Of course, Rob has him with both arms pulled back so that he’s not only off-balance (inviting him to fall) but he’s also leading with his chin, offering no offense except his barred teeth. Cable, unsurprisingly, decks him the next panel.

But heck, why let common sense stand in the way of a Rob Liefeld page? Besides… the writer can probably cover it.

(Todd, by the way, explains in the third issue of Hero, now on sale, that Image’s inability to ship books on any sort of schedule thusly: “We’re growing roses… If you want me to squat something out, I can do it right here on the table. Let them [other publishers] get the crap out on time, we’ll grow the roses!” There you have it. They’re not disorganized or undisciplined. They’re constipated horticulturists.)

Want more? New Mutants #100. Shatterstar rams a sword through himself in order to take out a foe in a dynamic double-page spread. Holy cow, how staggeringly, coincidentally similar… right down to the line work… to a climactic moment in a battle from Ronin #1 by Frank Miller. An homage, no doubt… except no “After Miller” or similar acknowledgement appears. Perhaps it was a production error, committed by those same fools who left off the “To Be Continued” that would have made Youngblood so much more comprehensible.

Byrne, McFarlane, Miller. Who else should we be crediting?

Look. Over there. Now we’re starting to get paranoid, unsettled by these amazing coincidences. The world is swirling. Everything in Rob’s art is starting to look familiar. Could that be… Gil Kane Green Lantern or Atom? Why does Wolverine look like he was drawn by Neal Adams… oh, wait! Now he’s back to looking like Byrne! Is that a Steve Ditko Creeper scooting around? In our befuddlement, Stryfe is looking a lot like he stepped out of Michael Golden Micronauts, right down to those funky spigots on his chest… but on page 20 of the paperback, he’s lifting a guy off his feet in a panel identical to Dr. Doom threatening Kristoff in Fantastic Four #258, also by Byrne.

Where’s their credit?!

Far be it from me to accuse Rob of being some sort of swipe artist (Rob Hood: Prince of Thieves?), because that would be utterly contrary to his philosophy of due credit. We know how important that is to him.

And if it’s important to him, it’s important to us. And it should be to you, too.

But this is too big a job for the IBIDS alone, folks. So “But I Digress” is putting forward the following offer: Start going through your back issues of New Mutants, X-Force… heck! Go through Youngblood while you’re at it. Give some of those extra copies you bought to friends, so they can help.

See how many art poses you can peg. Send photocopies of both the original source, plus their reincarnation from Rob’s work, to: “STICKLERS FOR CREDIT,” To Be Continued, PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705. Yes, it’s a contest, I guess. But everyone is a winner, because for every confirmed sighting you turn in, you will receive a genuine, pin-it-on-your shirt, limited edition button (which I’m having produced even as we speak–at my own expense, because I believe so firmly in Rob’s vision) that says, “OFFICIAL ‘BUT I DIGRESS’ STICKLER.”

(Editor’s note: This contest has long since expired. Please do not send in entries.)

And Rob… if you’re out there, and you’re wondering “Why me?”, let’s remind you: your good friend Erik Larson started it, by writing a belligerent letter to Wizard in response to David Michelinie’s polite missive about Venom’s origins. And you perpetuated it by doing the same in regards to Walt Simonson. If you had been satisfied with my acknowledgement that you had the most legitimate claim to Cable’s origin, and Walt’s gentlemanly description of Louise’s contributions… if you had even followed Jim Valentino’s rather chivalrous example in his clarifying that he was not intending to insult Louise… then this column would not have been written.

For that, Rob… you can take full credit.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, is quite serious about the above offer. Make a party of it. Have friends over. Order in pizza, but be sure to pay with credit.)

One American in five now believes that President Obama is a Muslim. This is apparently regarded as a big story and some sort of commentary on Obama.

It’s worth noting that in a survey a couple of years ago, thirty-two percent of respondents believed that Vin Diesel was the inventor of the diesel engine.

To me, the real story is that a disturbingly large percentage of Americans are stupid. Then again…not exactly news.

PAD

American Airlines spokesman Virasb Vahidi (official title: Chief commercial officer). It’s his job to try and make palatable Ameican Airlines finding yet another way to charge people for something they were getting for free before.

American has decided to charge customers anywhere from $19 to $39 for seats in the first few rows of coach. They’re no wider, they don’t have any more leg room. Yet they’ve decided to dub them “Express seats,” because apparently if the airline is running late (and American has one of THE worst on-time records in the industry) they decided that travelers with tight connections should have to pay extra if they want to be able to sit far enough forward to compensate for American’s timely ineptitude.

So how does Mr. Vahidi put a positive spin on this? “Express Seats highlights American’s focus on offering customers what they value most. This is another great product under the Your Choice program that puts more travel choices in the customer’s hands.”

No, it doesn’t. It takes OUT of the customer’s hands the option of being able to sit forward in the plane without having to pay through the nose for it. It’s not as if they’re giving you a huge discount if you opt to sit in the back. They’re just trying to put a shining veneer on a steaming pile of crap.

PAD

Coming out in October: “The Balverine Order,” an original novel that ties into the “Fable” video game. It’s set between the events in Fable II and the forthcoming Fable III. Quoting from the Amazon description: The days of magic and adventure are fading away, giving way to the age of industry and science. As the aged last Hero sits upon the throne of Albion, two friends-the privileged Thomas and his loyal servant, James- set out for the East in search of a legendary beast: the vicious, rarely-seen balverine. But their desire for adventure may be their ultimate undoing-because their quarry has just found them…

I also wrote a 64-page adaptation of the original “Tron” film for Marvel which will be coming out in November.

PAD

Bravo routinely airs two episodes of “The West Wing” back to back every morning. Curiously, with no explanation, they jumped over an episode this morning. They skipped the one entitled “Faith Based Initiative.” I wonder why. Well, let’s check the episode description:

On the same day that an anti-gay-marriage amendment is attached to the federal budget, an Internet rumor surfaces that C.J. is a lesbian. Josh and Toby attempt to kill the amendment without forcing the President to publicly take a position on this unwinnable issue.

Okay. I find that…interesting.

PAD

I loved “Scott Pilgrim.” I really did. I also find myself wondering if the director was a fan of “Speed Racer” since much of the storytelling and editing was evocative of that film. I predicted after seeing “Speed Racer” that you were going to see a lot of its techniques showing up in future movies, and this might be the first of them.

It’s hard to believe that a film with as much energy, great acting and storytelling is struggling at the box office, but that’s where we are with “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.” SP received major push at the San Diego Con, making one wonder just how much post-con lift to films a convention presence really translates into. Thus far its major accomplishment is to make “Kick-Ass,” generally considered a disappointment, look like a triumph.

Naturally this will be scrutinized as an indicator of how “comic book” movies do when they don’t feature non-mainstream superheroes. Which is, of course, ridiculous. “Road to Perdition” and “Men in Black” were both “comic book movies.” Audiences just didn’t think of them as such.

Ariel told me something kind of chilling. “Scott Pilgrim’s” target audience is, basically, her peer group, and she said she tried to get up a group to go see it. But she was rebuffed, told by her friends that they didn’t have the money to go to the movies but hey, no problem, they had access to sites on line where they could just watch it for free.

If this is really a prevalent attitude toward movies aimed at that age group, it means that films like “The Expendables” and “Toy Story 3″ which skew older (yes, the latter skews older because parents are paying to bring their kids) can still make a mark at the box office but teen movies may be opening with two strikes against them.

In the meantime, let’s hope that “Scott Pilgrim” benefits from the terrific word of mouth it so richly deserves.

PAD

Originally published August 27, 1993, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1032

A couple of things in today’s symposium:

For the first time in three years of my taking jabs at Marvel in this column, I’ve actually hit a topic that prompted Marvel reps to say, in essence, “Hey, we’d like to be heard on this.” Seems perfectly fair to me.

Tom DeFalco wishes the following to be known to all and sundry:

He flatly denies Don Thompson’s assertion that an edict came from himself, Terry Stewart, or anyone at Marvel, stating that Thompson is only to review Marvel titles if the reviews are positive. As far as DeFalco is concerned, “Once the comics are put out, they’re fair game.” So Tom is now, officially, on record as saying that Don is perfectly free to review whatever he wants, positive or negative.

However, DeFalco made no secret of his belief that Don has a personal grudge against Marvel that colors his perceptions of the titles.

Tom’s main bone of contention, and an incident that clearly still irks him to this day, was a review some time back in which Don went so far as to make comments about Marvel personnel having difficulties in personal relationships, and those difficulties allegedly guaranteed that Peter Parker and wife Mary Jane would be breaking up. By making such comments, Don violated his own rules about reviewing the work rather than those who produced it.

Tom freely admits that Marvel was so infuriated by this breech of etiquette that it subsequently pulled its advertising. “I don’t like people using reviews as platforms for making attacks of a personal nature on the creative personnel,” DeFalco now says.

The upshot was that Don, realizing he’d gone over the line, apologized in two separate issues. Marvel subsequently reinstated its advertising.

One might think that Don’s attempts to make amends might have smoothed over the hurt feelings. Still, one is put in mind of John Houseman’s Professor Kingsfield in the TV series Paper Chase, wherein he admonished a student who tried to “take back” an insult by thundering, “Nothing can ever be taken back. Everything is on the record. Always.” Once burned, twice shy, and DeFalco remains convinced that Thompson is biased.

None of which, however, translates into a fiat against negative reviews. And although Don himself was dropped from Marvel’s freebie list–along with several other Krause employees in, according to Tom, one of Marvel’s routine thinnings of the comp list–Krause Publications has continued to receive, uninterrupted, comp copies of every Marvel title. They are addressed to publisher Greg Loescher, who “can do whatever he wants with them,” says DeFalco. That includes making them available to Don for review purposes.

Which means that the ball is back in CBG’s court.

Personally, I await further developments with keen interest.

*  *  *

I finally got around to seeing the Disney rerelease of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. (No, this isn’t a review; that would be somewhat pointless, I should think).

In a way, I was almost afraid to see it, because I was worried that my rather warped mind–which has become only more so in the years of writing this column–would see things that I hadn’t seen before. Kind of like the way I deconstructed the The Wizard of Oz several years back.

And I did notice a few things. One of them I really almost wish I hadn’t noticed, because frankly, it’s kind of disgusting. So I’ll do the more palatable stuff first.

1) Everyone knows that, ideally, a story should feature some sort of character arc. That the protagonist(s) should face some problem through the course of the story that changes them, and leaves them different at the end. If it doesn’t happen, or if it’s superficial (as with Jurassic Park) then it leaves the audience unsatisfied.

Yet Snow White has been captivating audiences for years, and because it’s “only” a fairy tale, it doesn’t seem to play by the same rules as standard drama. Snow herself spends most of the film waiting for her prince to show up, and he eventually does. The end. She’s exactly the same at the end of the film as she was at the beginning, with no effort expended on her part to bring this about other than cleaning house and sleeping.

Indeed, between the time she spends sleeping on the Dwarfs’s beds, and again upon eating the apple, I think she spends more storytime slumbering than Sleeping Beauty did.

(By the way, presuming this comes out before the San Diego Comic Con, ask animation writer Paul Dini to do his impression of Princess Jasmine singing “Some Day My Prince Will Come” with utter contempt and derision. Likewise his version of Cruella De Vil performing “Belle,” voice dripping disdain for the “poor provincial town.” It’s a hysterical bit that I copped–with Paul’s permission–for the Disney heroine roundtable some months back. But I digress…)

Prince Charming has no character arc. The Queen certainly doesn’t. And the vast majority of the Dwarfs don’t. Of the nine principal characters, only one is measurably different at the end than he is at the beginning, and yet it’s the most interesting character transition in the film: That of Grumpy.

When we first see him, the sawed-off misogynist is suspicious of women in general (“They’re full of wicked wiles!” he proclaims. Hell, Grumpy probably invented the old tacky joke about not trusting anyone who could bleed for five days and not die) and Snow White in particular. He cuts her no slack, urging she be thrown out and rejecting every overture of hers.

Nor does he seem to warm up to her during the night’s festivities of singing and merrymaking (although he does display formidable musical skill; I mean, you try playing a pipe organ with your buttocks and see how well you do.)

But Snow calls in divine intervention as, in her nighttime prayers, she asks God to get Grumpy to like her. By next morning, her prayers seem answered. Of all the dwarfs, it is Grumpy who instructs her to keep the doors locked and not talk to strangers. Snow is thrilled that Grumpy actually seems concerned (so thrilled that apparently she allows the advice to pass right through her head, judging by what she does later.)

She then kisses him on the head, and this is the last straw. Grumpy is now squarely in Snow’s corner. So much so, in fact, that–and here’s where it really gets interesting–when the animals alert the dwarfs that Snow’s in danger, Grumpy assumes command. Doc, the nominal leader, completely freezes. “What do we do?!” he wails. It is Grumpy who leads the charge. And it doesn’t end at the cottage. When they go in pursuit of the crone Queen, Grumpy is still leading the way, taking the point, charging up the hill. Indeed, one would argue that the Queen got off lightly; her fate was as nothing as it might have been had Grumpy (and the other Dwarfs, their cheery expressions twisted in utter fury) caught up with her.

For that matter, when they think Snow White is dead, Grumpy is the one crying the most copiously. The others have tears running down their faces, but Grumpy is so overwrought that he turns his back to the camera and sobs profusely. What a turnaround.

When they think she’s dead.

Hmm.

We’ll get back to that later.

2) Is Dopey the most politically incorrect character in major motion picture animated history or what?

You literally could not do this character today. Could you imagine the reaction to a mute dwarf who would most likely be interpreted as a parody of the mentally handicapped/impaired/challenged/choose your own phrase that makes you comfortable?

I mean, mental health organizations went ballistic when a DC rep described Doomsday as an escapee from a cosmic nuthouse. Heck, you can go all the way back to Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles, where he received complaints from organizations in the belief that Mongo (Alex Karras) was so named to make fun of “mongoloids”… when, in fact, he was called that so that startled townspeople could see him coming and proclaim, “Mongo! Santa Maria!” (If you don’t get the joke, forget it.)

So what would they have made of (or done to) Dopey, I wonder, if the film were just coming out. Women’s organizations protesting Snow’s passivity would be crowded right off the front pages. There would be letter campaigns, pickets. You name it.

Furthermore, can you imagine if Walt Disney had gone with the suggestion (really, I swear it’s true) that Dopey star in the “Sorceror’s Apprentice” sequence in Fantasia. Ultimately he opted for Mickey Mouse, and the role revitalized Mickey’s sagging career, serving as the comeback vehicle that solidified him as superstar. If it had done that for Dopey instead of Mickey, then who knows? Dopey might have ended up as the corporate symbol and, being so high profile, might be the subject to all kinds of pressure to make him politically correct.

As it is, he only shows up in theaters every seven years or so, so Those Who Would Protect Us leave him alone. It also helps that he’s certainly the most engaging character in the film. He’s also responsible for my favorite moment in the movie–when he stands on one of his associate’s shoulders and dances with Snow White. Of course, he also supremely lived up to his name; choosing Sneezy, of all dwarfs, as his “lower half” was–to put it mildly–a major tactical error.

3) It amazes me how smoothly the animation styles blend in the film. Snow White is portrayed so realistically, and the Dwarfs are so cartoonish, that one would think they don’t even belong on the same screen. Yet it’s never disconcerting.

The only time it really jars for me is when Snow inspects their hands to see whether they’re clean or not. I keep waiting for her to say, “My God! You all have four fingers!” Perhaps she was just being polite.

4) Okay. This is the kinda gross part.

When the Queen crafts the poison apple, she presumes that the cure–to be awakened by “love’s first kiss”–is not a problem. After all, she reasons, the Dwarfs will think Snow is dead and bury her. This seems a fairly logical assumption.

But she did not reckon with… well, here is where it gets a little odd to me.

A text insert tells us that Snow was so beautiful “even in death,” that the Dwarfs could not stand to bury her. So they built her a glass coffin and put her in there.

Why?

I mean, they thought she was dead. This is not contested.

So why the glass coffin?

Isn’t that kinda… you know… sick?

Did they really think their sensibilities would be better served by putting her on view, in the middle of the forest, so they could watch her decompose?

Glass, all sides, so they wouldn’t miss a thing. What did they think was going to happen? These guys have lived in the forest. Certainly they must have stumbled over decaying animal bodies from time to time. They knew what to expect. The loss of body fluids, the rotting cadaver that she would inevitably become. Flies swarming, and the maggots, and… geez, is that truly how they wanted to remember her?

What was with those guys? One of ‘em was called “Doc,” for heaven’s sake. Certainly if he had some sort of medical training, he should have warned them of the health risk–not to mention potential for inducing nausea–that this course would have had. (Unless he was “Doc” like “Doc” Gooden or something.)

We know the coffin wasn’t air-tight. We see them opening it (fairly easily) to put flowers on her.

The only other possibility that comes to mind was that they embalmed her. That sounds pleasant. So which one of them handled the evisceration? (“Yo, Dopey… over here a moment…”) Did they take the trough out back and fill it with salt for the immersion process? Did they fill her body cavities with—

No, I have to think they didn’t embalm her.

So they just left her to rot where everyone could see.

And who happened by?

Prince Charming.

This guy’s even sicker than the dwarfs.

He gets off his horse, walks up to what he believes to be a corpse… and kisses her.

Yuck.

This guy goes around smooching stiffs.

Is this something he does all the time? Is he some sort of necrophile? Does he kiss dead lips and then murmur, “Was it good for you, too?” For that matter, did he stop with the kiss only because the Dwarfs were standing around? Just how far does he go with this rather bizarre hobby of his?

Be certain to keep all these things in mind the next time you see the film.

Heigh ho Heigh ho…

(Peter David, writer of stuff, was mentioning disposal of dead bodies around eight-year-old Jenny, and he referred to “Cremation.” She wanted to know if that meant the body was covered with whipped cream, or perhaps turned into cream. Now there’s a grisly thought; if you thought that Soylent Green was unsettling, just imagine if Creamora came from…)

Sarah Palin is demanding more answers from Obama regarding the proposed mosque/recreation facility/laser tag center proposed to be built within a few blocks of Ground Zero. Apparently the new angle for criticism is that the hidden agenda reason why Muslims want to build it there is that it’s a historically-dictated victory monument. As opposed to, say, an endeavor to memorialize the innocent Muslims who also died in the attack, or perhaps an attempt to try and convince a skeptical percentage of Americans that terrorists don’t represent Muslims any more than the KKK represents Christians, both of which make far more sense considering the moderate people who are endeavoring to build it. Or maybe…here’s a nutty notion…there’s Muslims living in the area already and they’d like a convenient place to worship.

With any luck, Obama won’t get into a back and forth with her. But I got nothin’ better to do at the moment, so I’ll take a whack at it:

She demands to know why Obama wasn’t encouraging them to accept Governor Paterson’s offer to “look into trying to provide them with the state property they would need” which would be “at a distance,” according to Paterson.

Well, three reasons. First, Paterson promised them nothing except to “look into” “trying” to provide it. Why trade off a property where they’ve got everything locked up and ready to go for a vague promise from a lame duck and unpopular governor? Second, as was well documented on “The Daily Show,” everywhere from Wisconsin to California, attempts by Muslims to build houses of worship is being met with resistance and protests. It’s no longer about geography; it’s about religious tolerance. And third, Obama’s job is to uphold the Constitution. The Constitution says these people have the right to build a house of worship. Therefore Obama upholds that right. Not only does Obama’s obligation end there, but as has been demonstrated, there’s nowhere else he could suggest they DO build it that wouldn’t garner protests from the locals.

Palin also asked Obama, “Why are they apparently so set on building a mosque steps from what you have described, in agreement with me, as ‘hallowed ground’? I believe these are legitimate questions to ask.”

The answer is: You believe wrong. Those are not legitimate questions for Obama to ask. Government has no business asking them. A president has no business asking them. Palin can ask them if she wants because she is a private citizen, and the same First Amendment that protects a Muslim’s right to worship protects Palin’s right to ask about it. But the foremost upholder of the Constitutionally-dictated hands-off of religion doesn’t get to, and it would be inappropriate if he did. The fact that she is unable to reach this conclusion on her own simply shows, yet again, that she is woefully unqualified for the job she sought in 2008, and if she had taken the oath of office, she would have either been lying or intellectually unequipped to understand what she was promising.

Furthermore, if Sarah Palin were really interested in why they want to build their mosque/community center/dojo in that location, why doesn’t she ask for a sit-down with them? I bet they’d be glad to accommodate her.

So I throw it back to you, ex-governor. Instead of asking Obama these questions, when his only stake in the matter is to do what he promised to do when he took the office, why don’t YOU go ask them face to face? I’ve read a lot of articles in which she’s voiced opposition, but haven’t found any where she’s gone to the source. Doesn’t that seem the simplest solution?

Why don’t you ask them yourself, Sarah?

PAD

Well, at least no one’s talking about amending the Constitution again. In this particular instance, that annoying First Amendment which mentions freedom of religion.

The guy who we watched take an oath to defend it a couple years ago commented on the move to build a mosque in lower Manhattan within distance of Ground Zero. To be specific, President Obama said: “As a citizen, and as president, I believe that Muslims have the same right to practice their religion as anyone else in this country. That includes the right to build a place of worship and a community center on private property in lower Manhattan, in accordance with local laws and ordinances.”

That doesn’t even begin to take into account that the guy spearheading the drive is the exact sort of moderate Muslim who is as disgusted by the actions of terrorists as, well, any moderate Christian would be by the activities of the KKK.

Yet Republican Peter King declared that Obama “is wrong.” I’m fascinated by the notion. What part, exactly, was he wrong about? That he’s a citizen? (Not that again.) That he’s the president? (Well, if he’s not a citizen, then…) Or is King suggesting that Muslims don’t have the right to build a place of worship in accordance with local laws and ordinances?

I mean, if you’re going to object, then be willing to take it all the way. Muslims should be able to block the building of churches in their neighborhoods because they’re still steamed about the Crusades. And Christians should make sure to prevent synagogues going up because, despite Vatican II, they’re still blaming the Jews for the Crucifixion.

This country was founded on a foundation of religious tolerance…or, more correctly, escaping religious intolerance. Do I see the symbolism that some people find upsetting with the idea of a mosque within a few blocks of Ground Zero? Of course. I’m not stupid; I get it. But it’s always easy to support the First Amendment when people aren’t saying or doing something you find upsetting.

If we truly want the U.S. to be a beacon of hope, we can’t snuff out the torch when we find it too hard to keep it lit.

PAD