For those of you lucky enough to have avoided any and all social media posts regarding it, we regret to inform you there is a strange divide among comic book fans right now. Yes, as silly as it sounds, it’s true. There are rival factions battling over the soul of 22-page funny books about super-powered people in capes. It’s a strange time we live in, yet here we are. For the sake of brevity, we’ll just say the belligerents are in two very different camps and the following will be explanation of them in the broadest sense.
The first is a group of comic book fans and creators who feel the mainstream comic industry has forced diversity and politics into comics (quick side note: introducing a new character is not the same as forcing them into a book)(and I see we're not even going to try to keep this nonbiased, are we.) and believe ‘90s comic book aesthetics were the pinnacle of the medium. The other side of this coin is… well, a rather large swath of comic book creators and fans (there are dozens of us. DOZENS!) who have taken a stance against the opposition that has rallied behind the banner of Comicsgate.
Now, if you don’t know what Comicsgate is, good for you. Try to keep it that way. (You might actually learn something and realize this author's opinions are full of shit.) But for those of you who have a working knowledge of the vitriol that has been broadcast online, X-Men: Black – Mojo #1 might be the funniest satire on the whole ordeal thus far.
Writer Scott Aukerman (Comedy Bang Bang) and artists Nick Bradshaw (Wolverine & The X-Men) and André Lima Araújo (Ben Reilly: The Scarlet Spider) have used the ratings-obsessed interdimensional television mogul, Mojo, to thoroughly explicate the current comics feud, saddling the villain with familiar, less-than-desirable attributes so as to provide a deft caricaturization (spell check much?) of a comic book curmudgeon.
He strolls around New York City in a trench coat and a fedora (m’lady) (First, Oh ho ho, pinnacle of comedy if this was 2014. Second, how the fuck is a giant two ton spider monster walking around in a trenchcoat... you know, what nevermind.) and claims to not need any sort of compassion despite desperately searching for it. Framing the character in such a way might be a bit too on-the-nose for some, but for a broad satire it works wonderfully. The blatant jabs Mojo makes at the comic book industry only add to this side of the character.
Mojo complains about new characters muddying up the water and eclipsing classic heroes, despite the fact that the old characters are still there and past exploits are unaffected by any new character introductions (We'll just ignore how Marvel tried to retcon Cap into being an agent of Hydra since day one, Iceman was apparently gay all the time, and Hawkeye just straight up murders people) . Ironically, two of the visual representations of this complaint are Quentin Quire and Doop, two huge favorites in the X-Men fan community and characters who have been backup players to Wolverine, an X-Man who, even in death, is in more books than either Quire or Doop combined. (Quire and Doop were also brand new, original characters instead of replacements of pre-existing characters, not exactly the same thing, is it?)
To be fair, not every little snipe is unwarranted. Mojo notices on his cell phone that viewership ratings have dipped. He wonders if perhaps killing off a character will boost them. This is definitely commenting on how cheap superhero deaths often are, and how they can feel like nothing more than a sales tactic instead of a natural story beat.
The real meat of this issue is the way in which Mojo grapples with the outside world, something that can be hard to do when your head’s buried so deep in the exploits of fictional characters that it engulfs your life and your better judgement. And in a very sly manner, Aukerman and company sort of let slip the answer to ending this whole debacle in the comic book community: Not everything has to go the way you want in order for you to be happy. (The lack of self-awareness is staggering.)
Cycles come and go in pop culture. Comic books are no different. What was once the norm erodes over time. Either adapt, or live in the past. The choice is yours. Fighting on the internet over it isn’t doing anyone any good. (Please tell that to all the Marvel Comics, writers, and editors who decided to be a collective of cunts to the fanbase via social media, oh, and also in their funnybooks they expect people to spend $4 per issue on)
Luckily, it seems most fans are just trying to find works of art to gravitate toward and stories they can relate to on a personal level (what more can you ask for, really?). If goofy, vaguely apolitical ‘90s comics with gory violence and eXtreme™ artwork is what you dig, bully for you; comics like that are still being made, just not at the level they once were. (Mostly because cunts like Waid and Co. are trying to have them shitcanned.)
If you want to see characters who represent your race, gender, ethnicity or social upbringing, then there is nothing wrong with that. If you can’t relate to Riri Williams on a personal level, then no one is forcing you to read the comics she’s in (we're just going to put the original Iron Man into a coma), but it’s not fair to begrudge readers who do enjoy them. Period. Mojo understands that. But can everyone else?
3 days ago:
