4thletter!

monthly, from dc comics!

I have got to stop talking to this guy. I’m going to get into trouble.

david: I want to start a new line of faux Golden Age comics like Congo Bill and Tarzan
david: about one lone white dude standing vigilant against the dark skins of the inner city
david: Compton Bill
pedro: ha ha
pedro: compton bill is awesome
pedro: oh god
david: i might have ot make another cover :(
pedro: i want that comic so badly
pedro: but compton bill should be about an old dude who joins the bloods
pedro: it’s the only way to survive in the neighborhood

For those who do not get the joke: Tarzan, Congo Bill, every jungle girl movie ever, Jungle Book, and other stories were essentially all about what Rudyard Kipling called “The White Man’s Burden.” Bringing peace, light, knowledge, and lots of guns to countries populated by brown skins and shooting them until they give up.

Sorry, that was a little cynical. I don’t read Kipling for the same reasons I don’t read Lovecraft. Let me let wiki tell it:

At face value it appears to be a rhetorical command to white men to colonize and rule people of other nations for their own benefit (both the people and the duty may be seen as representing the “burden” of the title). Because of its theme and title, it has become emblematic both of Eurocentric racism and of Western aspirations to dominate the developing world.[8][9][10] A century after its publication, the poem still rouses strong emotions, and can be analyzed from a variety of perspectives.

The trope of “One Lone Lantern-Jawed White Guy (and possible Jaguar Skin Clad Lady Friend) Kicking Savage (or Gorilla) Butts In Africa” used to be a common one in movies (hello 10,000BC how are you doing while I am over here not watching you) and even more common in fiction.

I just thought I’d update it a little bit. You know, revamp, reboot, and relaunch with a new #1. It was brought on by this, wherein we find out that James Robinson is getting a new Justice League series and introducing a ‘90 year old Congo Bill.

Cheryl Lynn poses an interesting question:

You know who I want to see? Waller’s kids. I don’t want them becoming superheroes, but I’m kind of curious as to how Waller has managed to protect them so well with all the dirt that she does and people she has pissed off. Is everyone afraid of the woman? Even crazy loons like the Joker? Actually, it would be interesting to see what Waller would do if one of her kids pulled a Proteus. Would she be able to take her own child down? The only tie left to a husband who was brutally murdered? Given the interesting ways that so many writers at DC have examined family ties, I think it would be a good story.

I can tell you exactly what happened to her kids.

Amanda Waller is a true patriot. She is willing to do the raw and dirty things in order to keep someone else from having to sully themselves. She is damned of her own accord, and she is okay with that. It needs to be done, and if she is the one who has to do it, she definitely will perform to the best of her ability.

Therefore, the absolute last thing she wants is for her kids to have to follow in her footsteps. That’s a standard thing for parents, isn’t it? They don’t want their kids to make the same mistakes or face the same issues that they did. They want their kids to have a brighter future, usually by any means necessary. Parental instinct at work– your kids come first.

So, Waller did a few things once she got into the position we know and love. She made herself available for the dirty jobs, the ones that no one else wanted or could stomach, and then she used that knowledge to secure her children’s future. It isn’t quite blackmail– she’s in a position where blackmail would be a little too obvious. All she has to do is ask for something, and the men in power will stop, think about what she knows, and give it to her. She doesn’t just know where the bodies are buried– she’s got the receipt for the backhoe that dug the hole. So, in a effort to do what all parents attempt to do, Waller looked out for her kids first. I have a few theories.

1. Her surviving family are set for life, though she rarely sees them. College careers funded, houses bought, incredible credit score established, health insurance for life, and so on. No get out of jail free cards. Definitely not. She raised them better than that, and they know better than to get arrested ’cause the only thing worse than getting arrested is to have to call your mom while she’s sleeping, or even worse, at work, and telling her you’re in jail.

(She rarely sees them because it wouldn’t be right. She loves them deeply, but her work has left her hands filthy. She isn’t guilty, and her self-righteousness never cracks, but this goes back to the wanting better.)

2. Cabrini-Green isn’t the same place that murdered her husband and daughter. She took care of her family, and the next step is taking care of business. It’s the exact opposite of our Cabrini-Green. Intelligent federally funded social services hit Cabrini-Green hard in the DCU and turned the place around, all of which was masterminded by a flunky who is at least three offices removed from the desk of one A. Waller. That’s the smokescreen– true patriots don’t need credit. They don’t need praise. They just do. Cabrini-Green took too much from her, so, like Bruce Wayne, she’s going to ensure that that never happens again.

3. If one of her kids went bad, I think that she would have to be the one to put them down. She gave them all the chances in the world, and it is her responsibility to punish them. She wouldn’t like doing it, and it’d probably lead to either a (temporary) break down or retirement. A break down would be the worst thing to possibly happen to her, because when she comes back from that break down, she’s going to overcompensate.

That is when she calls Batman and is like “Meet me at the spot and bring those kid sidekicks of yours. It’s on. We’re going to fix everything.”

Just as an interesting side note, Amanda Waller is either from, or at least lived in for a while, Cabrini-Green, Chicago. You know who else is a world changer from Cabrini-Green? Or rather, “The Green,” as she knows it?

Martha Washington.

Couple more quick hits:

This is the Amanda Waller/Martha Washington theme song. (Will my crush on L-Boogie ever go away? No, I don’t think so.)

And because I’m on a Nas kick, this song is hot. (I’m so glad Nas is back to being good. It was looking dire to be a fan of Nasty Nas for a minute there. Hip-hop is dead… long live hip-hop.)

From Comic Book Resources - CBR News: SUPER SPY WEEKEND: Faisa Hussain

A Muslim, Faisa’s faith is very important to her. “I have two aims here: to make her a real person and not someone who has to represent the entire British Muslim world all the time — I think superheroes are too prone to being standard bearers for whole communities — and to make her an everyday religious person who you won’t hear anything religious from until it would naturally come up. Which is hardly ever. She’s not going to be letting anyone down, though. She’s the young hero who will win through. And we’ll play out some of these pressures and fault lines in the comic itself. I want people to adore her, not to be pleased she’s there as part of a quota system.”

There are a few things I like here:
1. Paul Cornell is a great writer, judging by the Wisdom miniseries he did a year or so ago. His new book looks great.
2. Pakistani female character written by a great writer.
3. Religion treated as religion is treated in real life. There are few people in life who are representatives of their religion (or race) and go around talking like “Well, in Leviticus 2:10, blah blah blah.” I can’t wait to see this.

Good on you, Paul Cornell.

Warfare’s inevitable, Rebel I hold several government official
Issue thirty-eight specials, that step through
Like Nat Turner create a spectacle
I may die in the scuffle, but I’m takin’ forty devils
–Inspectah Deck, “The City”

I watch my small home burn to the ground. My wife and daughter’s screams stopped over half an hour ago. I should get up, but I can’t find the reason or the strength. My world has been destroyed, and the cruelty is that I have survived it.

After a long time, I find a reason to move. I can’t say it’s a good reason, or a Christian reason… but it’s reason enough.

I head into the direction of the white triangles.

I head into the dark.
–John Henry, New Frontier

Steel Drivin’ Man

I was really big into American folk tales for a while, real or fictional. Paul Bunyan, John Henry, George Washington Carver, and so on. They were infinitely interesting, but one that kept catching my eye sounded like fiction, despite the fact that it actually happened.

Nat, commonly called Nat Turner, (October 2, 1800 – November 11, 1831) was an American slave whose slave rebellion in Southampton County, Virginia, was the most remarkable instance of black resistance to enslavement in the antebellum southern United States. His methodical slaughter of white civilians during the uprising makes his legacy controversial, but he is still considered by many to be a heroic figure of black resistance to oppression. At birth he was not given a surname, but was recorded solely by his given name, Nat. In accordance with a common practice, he was often called by the surname of his owner, Samuel Turner.

Nat Turner is an icon, and kind of a hard one to explain my interest in. I mean, his mission was to straight up kill white people and free slaves. “Hey guys, I heard this awesome story about this dude named Nat. He helped kill like fifty white people and–”

Yeah, that’s about as far as you get before the funny looks start, huh?

I guess if I had to nail it down, it’d be the fact that Nat was up against a wall in an untenable position and didn’t just sit there– he reacted. He made a choice. One thing that pretty much every black kid I knew would do was brag about how if they were alive back in slave days, they’d fight back, kill the master, and take over the plantation. You’d think you were looking at an entire generation made up of Huey Newtons and Malcolm X’s the way we used to talk.

I’m older now, and to be honest, I’m not sure how I would react. Would I stand tall? Would I bend? Heaven forbid, would I buckle and break? I know which one I’d hope to do, but I can’t say for sure.

John Henry in Darwyn Cooke’s New Frontier is a character I love dearly, and it was very cool to hear Cooke say that it was some of his favorite writing and best scenes in the book. Including him in New Frontier greatly increased my enjoyment of the book and, in a way, summarized a lot of the time going up to the civil rights struggle. There have always been people trying to do good– however, they were ahead of their time. So far ahead of their time that they ended up dead.

One connection that I happened upon, that may or may not have been intentional, is the one between Nat Turner, the legendary John Henry, and the New Frontier John Henry. New Frontier John Henry’s real name was John Wilson. He seemed to have been a well-established dude, with a wife and daughter, before he “died.” When he came back from the dead, he became a mix of two black folk heroes: Nat Turner and John Henry.

The iconography is John Henry with a twist. The hammers are John Henry, but the hood and noose are new. The hood and noose are bold statements. “You can’t kill me,” the noose says. “You tried, you failed, and here I am again.” The hood has a similar message. “I am no one. I am everyone.” It turns John Henry into an idea.

The actions, though? Those are a more focused Nat Turner. Instead of indiscriminate murder, he’s going after the people who do wrong. He’s going after the problem. He’s taking a stand. He’s standing tall. He’s striking back. It’s all he has left to live for.

It’s a mix that really speaks to me, I guess. Two of my favorite heroes in one person and beautifully illustrated. I feel like the John Henry sequence is a vital portion of the book, if not the best portion, and was pretty brave to include in the final product. I’m curious as to whether or not DC editorial had any qualms, but at the same time? It went through. That’s the important part.

Wondercon was a trip and a half for me. I had GDC on Monday through Friday, and then Wondercon on Friday through Sunday. I did a lot, saw a lot, found a lot. I’m still recovering and my sleep schedule is awful. However, it was also worth it because I bought the best page of art from New Frontier.

from marvel comics’s truth: red, white, and black by bob morales and kyle baker

Black history is American history.

art from dc comics’s mister miracle. words by grant morrison, art by freddie williams ii

This is an easy one: hope.

There is nothing that cannot be fixed. There is nothing that cannot be turned around and made better. There is no problem that is unsolvable. Anything can be done.

Pessimism isn’t the answer. It’ll get you nowhere but unsurprised and depressed. The majority of problems aren’t done on purpose. There isn’t a secret conspiracy of people out to get you or hurt you. It’s just ignorance (in the purest sense of the word) and non-thinking.

The answer is speaking. Education. Each one, reach one. Each one, teach one.

You gotta work to fix things. Working is worth it.

art from marvel comics’s black panther. words by hudlin, art by sal larocca, scot eaton, and cafu.

This is kind of a hard post to phrase, ’cause, man, it’s rooted in old school prejudices. It’s the kind of thing that’s hard to shake, you know? So, let’s just get right into it.

When Halle Berry was announced as Storm for the first X-Men movie, there was really just one response from most black people I knew who read comics, including my uncle who put me onto them in the first place: “Well, if that ain’t just the worst and most apt casting ever.”

Halle Berry has made a career out of being the “safe” black actress. She’s part (half?) polish and she’s fairly light-skinned. She’s just white enough to be nonthreatening, if that makes sense. I’m not dissing her for that, of course. She can’t help how she was born or why she sometimes gets roles. It’s just that, well, she’s got a reputation.

So, in a way, she was the perfect Storm and the worst possible Storm they could have picked. Storm is a regal, powerful, arrogant African Queen. Storm possesses some of the most powerful abilities on the X-Men and in the Marvel U. She’s a powerhouse. Storm also has long, apparently super-permed white hair, blue eyes, and distinctly non-african features for the majority of her lifespan.

That’s the crux of Storm right there. For a long time, she was only black in skin tone, and barely even then. Claremont built her up into this amazing goddess in Africa (and that is something else entirely), a master tactician (making for three on the X-Men), and generally just this amazing character. Thing is, she looked black. She doesn’t read black, she doesn’t feel black, and to a lot of people, that means that she’s barely black at all.

I mean, look at how long it took her to hook up with a black dude. Heyooooooo I’m here all night folks, try the veal. You guys are a great audience, really.

The thing is, Storm was all we had for so long that she’s kind of the pre-eminent black female of the comics world by default. I might find Misty Knight more interesting, but I like crime comics and blaxploitation. Misty pushes my buttons, but she can’t really go cosmic. Who else is left? Vixen can’t carry that burden. Natasha Irons is still way too green. Who’s left? Bumblebee from Teen Titans? I hadn’t even read her in Teen Titans before Tiny Titans came out, but I hate shrinky people, so that’s a big fat en oh.

This is the problem with only having a few black characters in comics way back when. You have to latch onto someone, and sometimes that someone isn’t really what you’re looking for. You settle for second best, basically. You can’t get the Smurfs, so you settle for the Snorks. You can’t get Beast Wars, so you settle for Extreme Ghostbusters. That sort of thing.

In a way, Storm is one of the best black females in comics. In another, she’s one of the absolute worst.

I love Storm, but I hate her, and what she represents, so much sometimes.

from milestone comics’s static. words by mcduffie/washington, art by john paul leon

I really enjoy Static. Honest to goodness, he’s one of the best “new” characters to hit in the ’90s. I think that McDuffie & Co. did a wonderful job creating and realizing him. They took the Spider-Man prototype and took it to the next logical level. I spoke about this a few days ago, but I wanted to get back at it. I’v got some breathing room during Wondercon, so you guys get to reap the whirlwind!

Static is probably the most accurate depiction of a young black male to ever hit comics. I haven’t read every comic ever, but Static just rings true on basically every level. He’s also a great example to show just how black masculinity goes sometimes.

You could a decent case for Virgil having gotten his powers because of a girl. One day at school, he met a girl named Frieda. A bully embarrasses him in front of her, but waits until she leaves to beat him down. Virgil crumples and can’t do much but cry. His friend rescues him from the bully, probably saving him a trip to the hospital, and helps him up. He lets Virgil know that he’s got a gun for him if he wants it. Virgil goes home.

When he gets home, his mom chides him for getting beaten up. He’s supposed tos tay out of trouble at this school, not fall into more. He’s got to learn to take care of himself. Virgil goes up to his room just in time to catch the phone ringing. On the other line is Frieda Goren, the girl from before. She compliments him on not being about “that macho stuff” and says that that’s why the bully chose him to attack.

Whoops.

Let me tell you, speaking as a former black teenager– there is nothing in the world worse than looking like a chump in front of a cute girl. Honestly. Getting beaten up would be one thing, but having that girl basically say “You aren’t a real man and that’s why you got beaten up,” regardless of the reason, is like being kicked in the junk by like four different people at once. It’s that Hitchcock zoom– the world zooms out, your face zooms in, and you can’t do anything but grimace in pain.

The second issue of Static uses this as part of Static’s origin story, and it’s a good hook. Regardless of how ridiculous or nonsensical standards of manhood are– they exist. You can be a “real man,” for varying definitions of “real man” depending on your location, upbringing, and state of mind. There are certain thing that you should do and are expected to do and if you don’t do them? Well, dude, sorry, but you aren’t gonna fit in. You’re a sucker, a mark, a punk, a whatever your local regional slang calls a dude who can’t stand on his own two feet.

Virgil was already feeling low because of the beatdown, but this was strikes two, three, four, and five all at once. The secret ingredient to being a boy is that being around girls makes you do stupid things. They don’t even have to say or do anything to you– girls are kryptonite. Kryptonite makes Superman weak. Frieda’s comments, no matter their trustworthiness, made Virgil weak. He calls his friend and asks for a gun. He’s going to put one between the bully’s eyes.

That’s the other half of being a man. Regaining lost manhood. It’s just as bad as kryptonite. Thing is, regaining your lost manhood isn’t a matter of “how far will you go.” It’s a matter of “You’ve already gone too far. How far over the line will you go?” Putting a .38 slug into a dude because he beat you up and made you feel like a chump? That’s way over the line.

There’s something I picked up years ago from music. Knowledge is all about knowing the ledge. That means knowing your limits, knowing the edge, knowing how far is too far, and just knowing period. If you’re “not knowing?” You’re not right. You’re doing wrong. Virgil was not knowing.

This is that fine line that you have to learn to walk. You put on that mean face and treat everyone like a threat. If you’re smiling and walking around like it’s all good, you’re a target. You have to learn what being a man means to you, not to other people. If you don’t mind a bit of punnery, you’ve got to be a self-made man. What means “a man” to you? You have to decide early, otherwise you’re stuck following someone else’s definition.

It’s almost like a competition, only there aren’t any winners in this race. You’re just trying to keep up with the Joneses and look better than the next man, but you don’t realize that those people you’re trying to keep up with? They’re trying to keep up with you at the same time. It’s a zero-sum game.