Year: 2005

I was going to post that there was this nice write-up on HULK #80 over on aintitcoolnews.com. But for some bizarre reason, subsequent discussion of the review on that site has morphed into fans bìŧçhìņg about an issue of X-FACTOR I wrote in which it was revealed that–contrary to John Byrne’s story revealing Lockjaw was a misshapen Inhuman–Lockjaw was in fact a dog and the Thing had been hosed.

I was going to respond, but my attempt to do so was thwarted since I did not have an AICN account. When I tried to create one, I was referred to a page saying that the account process was screwed up and it asked for patience. Considering it hadn’t been updated since November of 2004, I’m figuring I won’t be replying anytime soon.

So if anyone who DOES have access to AICN wants to reprint this entry or refer people to this site, I just wanted to make things clear: For what it’s worth, I didn’t give a dámņ about the Byrne story one way or the other. I thought it wasn’t bad; not great, but not bad. It did, however, frost the flakes of several writers and the “X-Factor” editor, basically because Byrne’s story made the Inhumans look like áššhølëš. John Byrne, foremost advocate of adhering to creator intent, ignored not only sequences where Stan and Jack had the Inhumans referring to, and treating, Lockjaw as their pet or dog, but the subsequent decades worth of continuity that did the same.

So, since Quicksilver was going to be in “X-Factor,” the writers–and the editor in particular–asked me to take the opportunity to undo that development as quickly and simply as I could. I shrugged, said, “Okay, boss,” and did so.

Now Rick Jones laughing off the Skrull involvement in the Hulk’s origin during an issue of CAPTAIN MARVEL…that was all me.

PAD

Good day: Out of the blue, got an offer from a comic publisher for a new title. Details should be available in a few days. So that was good.

Bad day: Was cruising along during my Wednesday night bowling leagues. Had shot five games in the 170-190 range, was about to start my sixth game…and my right Achilles tendon abruptly just went. I was making my approach and suddenly, bam, suddenly could barely walk. I called Kathleen, who came running with an ankle brace, and I strapped up the foot. Completely changed my approach, moving a foot closer to the foul line, taking very small steps, and putting everything I could into my release. Wound up shooting 215 of all things, so I may well maintain that style of approach, but it still hurt like hëll and I don’t know what caused it.

PAD

I’m starting to piece things back together after a busy few days.

I attended I-Con on Friday and Saturday. I’ve been going to the con regularly for over twenty years now. This time out, part of what made it special was that Jewel Staite was there. Jewel, who Bill Mumy and I helped cast in “Space Cases” so that we coulc cunningly rip off Joss Whedon’s casting her as an engineering genius on a space ship a mere eight years before he did. Her husband, Matt (sorry guys) was along with her. Also met Rockne O’Bannon, who astounded me by knowing who I was (which surprised the hëll out of me.) It was also nice seeing Bob Greenberger, who must be getting well and truly sick of me since we saw each other at the Eisner Memorial.

Sunday I attended the World Horror Convention, mostly because it was a change to see Harlan and Susan. Saw someone unexpected as well: Rev. Al Sharpton coming out of the Sheraton Hotel, who walked right across my path. I told him I thought he’d done well on “Boston Legal.” Got to the convention, went to the charity auction, and won the oppportunity to be brutally murdered in an upcoming fantasy novel by Christopher Golden and Amber Benson. So that should be fun. Went out in the evening with the Ellison, Cliff Meth and his wife, and Kathleen came into the city to join us.

Went today to Mets opening day. Everything was going fairly well until some seven year old boy running with his open bottle of Pepsi collided with me and spilled a measure of the contents all over the front of my pants. Thus it appeared as if the Mets come-from-behind win had caused me to lose bladder control. So that was great.

Then I go on line for the first time in a few days and discover that a spam bot unleashed on this website caused my mail account to be flooded out (thanks to my receiving an e-mail confirmation every time any posting is made on this site.) Wonderful.

PAD

Yes, in response to several queries, I will be attending ICon this weekend in Long Island. Not that you could tell it from the website, of course, where several requests to include my name in the guest list have been ignored even though I’m slated for programming (including a panel with Jewel Staite on Friday). I will be there Friday and Saturday, but not Sunday, because I’ll be going to the World Horror Convention Sunday to see Harlan.

PAD

Just came back from the memorial service sponsored by DC today for Will Eisner. It was held in a deconsecrated synagogue that, honestly, looked like something out of the Spirit or “Contract with God,” which was perfect for the occasion. Paul Levitz oversaw the proceedings (a responsibility that, as Bob Greenberger observed, Paul has unfortunately had fall upon him all too often of late) and various speakers talked both of what they felt Eisner had contributed to the industry and artform, and what Eisner meant to them personally. Among the speakers and attendees (simpler for me to group them together) were Denis Kitchen, Harlan and Susan Ellison, Ellison, Jerry Robinson, Karen Berger, Michael Uslan (the movie producer who has optioned the “Spirit” film)Frank Miller, John Byrne, Maggie Thompson, Ron Goulart, Cliff Meth, Nick Barrucci, Scott McCleod (bet I spelled his name wrong; sorry, Scott), Jackie Estrada, Heidi McDonald, and many others, as well as members of Eisner’s family, including his widow.

He meant a lot to a good number of people, and he will be missed.

PAD

It’s been a while since I wrote a comic with an ending that had fans going as completely batsh*t as they are with this one. Whad’ja think?

PAD

So Kath and I went to see “Sin City” last Friday, but things have been hectic and this is the first time I’ve had a chance to sit down and write my thoughts on it.

In seeing “Sin City,” I found myself reminded of something I’d long forgotten: Why I stopped reading “Sin City.”

Don Thompson always had, I thought, the best politic take: For those of you who like this kind of thing, this is the kind of thing you will like. If you like “Sin City” the comic, then the movie is a fan boy’s dream come true, recreated with a fidelity to the original that borders on the obsessive/compulsive. And the standout, of course, is Mickey Rourke’s “Marv,” oozing resigned determination from every celluloid pore.

But “Sin City” as a comic simply depressed me too much. The characters I liked always died, and the mood was just too relentlessly dark. I think of that moment in an early “Sandman” where Morpheus brings his demonic opponent–and, in short order, the entirety of hëll–to complete silence by saying, “I am hope.” If he stands in a bar in “Sin City” and announces he’s hope, he’ll just be greeted with raucous laughter and told he’s in the wrong place.

Loved Frank’s “Daredevil.” “Dark Knight Returns.” I even liked “Ronin,” which I still think is his masterpiece. But “Sin City” the comic was too unstinting in its noir, and the movie–while visually stunning–is even moreso. Compare and contrast it to “Pulp Fiction,” which is also noir, but manages to have humor (albeit sick humor) and hope of salvation.

It’s great to see that Hollywood can genuinely produce a major motion picture this faithful to the source material. It shows a level of respect and fidelity that hasn’t been accorded to everything from Shakespeare to “The Scarlet Letter.” It bodes well for the future (presuming the film does well). Now I just wish the source material spoke more to me.

PAD