You Know It's True

Ultra Boy can only use one super power at a time - i.e., he can't be both super strong and invulnerable at the same time. Why doesn't he shatter every bone in his hand every time he throws a punch with super-strength?

One of the best bits in Kirkman's Marvel Zombies was the bit where Wolverine's arm got torn in half when he tried to slice the Silver Surfer open. His bones were unbreakable but his ligaments were not. It was funny in the book because zombie Wolverine was a rotting corpse but that should really come up more often. Just because his bones are strong doesn't mean that he couldn't be torn limb from limb, unless he had magic ligaments and cartilage.

And while we're on the subject of Wolverine: his claws are super sharp but he's not super strong. Even the sharpest knife in the world is only as strong as the force behind it, so his ability to cut metal and stone would be limited unless Colossus was standing behind him pushing his elbow forward.

Also: as annoying as the "super" Wolverine of the last decade is, I do appreciate that a few writers (such as Jason Aaron) have taken the time to establish that Wolverine's true weakness is drowning. It makes sense, since he's not super-strong, that he would sink like a stone.

One of the few things that the Daredevil movie did well was actually showing how Daredevil's radar sense might actually work: he "feels" the reflection of sound waves off surfaces and objects. Would Daredevil's radar sense work in a completely silent room?

I generally liked Geoff Johns' work on Superman but one thing that has always bugged me about the "Superman and the Legion of Superheroes" arc is how Superman's powers instantly return the moment Sun Boy turns the sun back from red to yellow. Even if we accept for the sake of the story that Superman wouldn't need any kind of interregnum to recharge, we're still left waiting the seven minutes it would take yellow sunlight to reach Earth from the sun. The way that scene was written required precise timing to work the way it does, but unless we bypass the most elementary understanding of the physics of light we're left with a situation where Superman would be dead long before the new sunlight could revive him.

It is practically a law of nature that the more popular a character becomes, the stronger he will be. This is true of Wolverine to an absurd degree, but it's also become true of Luke Cage as well. As originally written, Cage was just not very strong - in his earliest stories, his invulnerability is far more prominent than his strength. But now he's gone from being maybe roughly Spider-Man's equal to someone who can hoist an eighteen-wheeler above his head and walk half the length of the city.

It is a continuing per peeve of mine that so many creators seem to believe that the Silver Surfer is still human underneath his silver shell. The whole point of the Surfer is that he was completely remade by Galactus: he is his shell, he's solid silver throughout. Otherwise, this wouldn't make any sense. It is always within his power to pretend to be human, but no force this side of Galactus has the power to actually make him human again.

It's really quite awesome that Thor possesses the ability to communicate with amphibians. It's probably not something that comes up very often, but I imagine it's a really neat party trick.

I've said it before but it bears repeating:

Thor = Green Hulk = Juggernaut > Wonder Man = Thing > Grey Hulk = Colossus = She-Hulk

The Silver Surfer can theoretically be as strong or stronger than any other character if he chooses to be, based on his theoretically limitless ability to channel the Power Cosmic, but he rarely chooses physical confrontation.

Traditionally, Superman > Everyone. This was not strictly true in the years right after Crisis when Superman was depowered considerably. It made for some memorable stories not because Superman was weak but because he could be an underdog against enemies like Darkseid and Doomsday. Now he's basically back to pre-Crisis levels. So:

Superman = Captain Marvel > Power GIrl = Martian Manhunter = Wonder Woman

Among villains, Doomsday is by far the strongest since he's been shown almost killing Darkseid, and Darkseid is easily the better of Mongul, Despero, or any other of the strong villains.

SIR

Fear Itself #1

Let's hope it drops so much of the "relevance" hoo-ha. I still don't see how this is a story for the whole Marvel Universe and not just a Thor storyline, but at least we now know that, yes, Fraction's first Thor storyline was padded because it had to kill time on its way to setting up this. Not terrible, but we'll see if people care in half a year.

Brightest Day #23

The series to date has been uniformly awful, there is no doubt. But I will admit to being slightly impressed with how well they pulled everything together here: turns out the series did have a plot after all, and seeing how all the pieces fit together was actually quite neat: I honestly was surprised by how things came together at the end. If only the previous #22 issues hadn't been so dire.

Uncanny X-Men #534.1

Perhaps because it's a done-in-one issue, but Kieron Gillen's maiden solo flight on the flagship mutant title reads really well. It's kind of funny and kind of sad how badly Fraction's run on Uncanny was a non-starter - something about the book just never gelled. EIther he didn't "get" the characters or had trouble with the Utopia status quo or whatever, his stories were distractingly superficial, barrels of misshapen plot filled with a cast of rotating ciphers. Just in this one issue Gillen shows more insight into Magneto's character than Fraction did in two and a half years. Maybe I'm reading too much into one issuer, but frankly, it's easy to see in hindsight that Fraction just didn't work on this book. Gillen is off to a hopeful start.

Avengers: The Children's Crusade #5

This is a Very Good Book, especially for old-school Avengers fans. There's a vocal minority of Avengers fans who have been unhappy ever since Disassembled with the franchise's sharp turn away from its historical roots. The problem is that since New Avengers dropped a lot of the historical trappings of The Avengers, the book has been the centerpiece of the number one franchise in comics, so there wasn't really a lot of room for complaint on any grounds other than personal preference. But oddly enough, Allan Heinberg appears to be very much of the Old School, and despite the fact that his main cast of "Young" Avengers is composed of entirely new characters, they are all plugged into established Avengers continuity in such a way that this feels like far more of a direct continuation of the good old Thomas / Englehart / Stern days than anything else since Busiek. It doesn't hurt that he seems to be inching towards selectively rewriting parts of Disassembled, an awful story whose awfulness has not diminished with time. Personally, I'm hoping the explanation for Wanda's behavior these past seven (!) years is revealed to be Chthon - demonic possession essentially let Hal Jordan off the hook for murdering thousands of people and destroying the universe (it got better!), so that's be a nice way out.

Secret Avengers #11

Who Is John Steele? No one cares, I'm sure. Brubaker seems like a nice guy who is capable of writing good comics when he feels like it, but his heart was so not in this book that it's not even funny. Considering how many people were genuinely excited by the eclectic cast of characters when this book was first announced, the fact that Brubaker has shown a methodical disinterest in actually doing anything with most of them is just perverse. Perhaps that's not the book he wanted to write, but that is without question the book the fans wanted to read. This, however, is the living definition of Weak Sauce.

Ultimate Spider-Man #156

I'm probably going to die a peaceful death of natural causes long before they get around to "killing" Ultimate Spider-Man, right?

Deadpool Team-Up #883

Now cracks a noble heart.—Good night, sweet prince,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

This Year's Bitchfest



Because I love pointing out the obvious, let's run down all the people who haven't been inducted into the Hall of Fame yet despite their eligibility.

Kraftwerk
Estimated Years Eligible: 16
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: Even

The same crowd who complained when Madonna and ABBA were inducted (and Grand Funk once again overlooked!) would probably weep tears of blood to see Kraftwerk inducted. And yet: without a doubt one of the five most influential bands ever. I mean, they're German! But without Kraftwerk the shape of modern music would be so different as to be recognizable. Every group either goes through a Kraftwerk phase or they go through a phase where they emulate the no-/new-wave bands who were influenced by Kraftwerk, or the 70s Bowie albums that were made under the direct influence of Kraftwerk and cocaine, in that order. Even U2 went through a Kraftwerk phase, for Chrissakes. If you're a rapper, you've got Kraftwerk so far back in your RNA that even if you don't know who Florian Schneider is, you know all the guys who built hip-hop out of sampling "Trans-Europe Express." If you sing pop music in 2011, you're basically standing on Kraftwerk's shoulders. They'll get in eventually, I'll wager, but probably not before half the band is dead.

Afrika Bambaataa
Estimated Years Eligible: 6
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 10-1

Founding Father of hip-hop. Let me repeat that for emphasis: Afrika Bambaataa is the guy who named hip-hop. After DJ Kool Herc and DJ Kool Dee, this guy here was right in the center of things, using the idea of throwing hip-hop parties as a way to keep Bronx kids from joining gangs. Afrika Bambaataa sampled Kraftwerk to make "Planet Rock." "Planet Rock" is one of the handful of most influential hip-hop songs ever recorded, and therefore fully 2/3 of the songs on the radio straight-up would not exist if this man hadn't figured out how to sample the hook from "Trans-Europe Express." Unfortunately, it looks as if we might have to wait a while before more artists fromthe early days of hip-hop are inducted - they inducted Grandmaster Flash in 2007 and Run-DMC last year. Unfortunately, so much of early hip-hop was a singles genre that it's hard to make a case for the fact that so many early rappers and DJs can only point to a handful of songs to make their case for history. That didn't stop any of the 50s doo-wop or Brill Building groups who've been inducted over the years, but it might be a while before they get around to folks like Afrika Bambaataa - we will probably see more prominent groups such as Public Enemy (a sure first-ballot pick for even the most conservative voters) and NWA inducted before Bambaataa, Fab Five Freddy or the Sugarhill Gang.

DJ Kool Herc
Estimated Years Eligible: 10-ish
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 250-1

You know what I said earlier about Afrika Bambaataa being one of the "Founding Fathers" of hip-hop? Well, this is the man who actually, you know, created hip-hop. As in: before Kool Herc there was no hip-hop, then after him there was. Of course, the fact that he was never a recording artist means his chances of being inducted are pretty near zero, but there are two other types of awards for which he qualifies: the sporadically given "Lifetime Achievement" award (for "unique contributions" that fall outside the strict roll of producer or artist, folks like Jann Wenner and Seymour Stein), and then the Ahmet Ertegun Award, given to non-performers. Often this goes to producers such as Phil Spector and Berry Gordy, but they've also given it to folks like Alan Freed and Dick Clark. Either The Man Who Created Hip-Hop gets one of these awards before he dies (which might be soon considering he's been in need of an expensive kidney transplant for some time), or the whole damn thing is just a joke. Every millionaire in the music biz who has made so much as a single dollar off hip-hop owes that dollar to this man, end of story.

The Cure
Estimated Years Eligible: 7
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 5-1

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the Cure will actually get in one of these years, but it probably won't be soon. Despite the fact that they check all three boxes on the Induction Schedule (popularity, acclaim, influence), they are just too British to sit well with the old white guys on the induction committee. The let in John Cougar Mellencamp the first year he was eligible because Mellencamp is a "serious" American artist who does rootsy Americana type stuff, regardless of the fact that it's awful and boring. The Cure started off as punk - sort-of - and evolved with that genre in the direction of new wave and synth pop but not before taking a detour in the direction of industrial. Their prime period careens between jangly college guitar rock and synthesizer tracks. So far, not a single new wave or synth-pop group has been inducted, despite that fact that anyone around since 1986 is now eligible for entry. Robert Smith puts on makeup, which is just about the worst thing you can do in terms of getting the Hall of Fame to pay attention. (See: Alice Cooper, Peter Gabriel-era Genesis). They're big enough and still relevant enough that it's hard to imagine them not being inducted at some point, but don't hold your breath.

Depeche Mode
Estimated Years Eligible: 5
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 10-1

Much of what I said for the Cure applies to Depeche Mode as well, but moreso. Despite the fact that they were for a good decade one of the biggest bands in the world - maybe not quite as big in America as everywhere else - they also played synths and made dance music. They certainly have the critical heft and the influence. But they're just too . . . well, fey and poppy, I guess. Maybe someday, I can see them waiting a while and then having a big synth-pop year just to get rid of these guys in one big rush.

Joy Division / New Order
Estimated Years Eligible: 7 / 5
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 25-1 / 10-1

If they induct either band, it will probably be New Order, because it's as New Order that they sold millions of records and performed across the world. But in a perfect world, if Eric Clapton can be inducted thrice than Bernard Sumner can be inducted twice. (But in a perfect world, would Clapton really need three inductions?) I can see these guys, Depeche Mode and the Cure being lumped together in a box somewhere in Jann Wenner's office that says "silly British disco shit." Ironically, the one time I actually visited the Hall of Fame in Cleveland they had a very nice display of Joy Division / New Order memorabilia, including a few of Ian Curtis' hand-written lyric sheets. So it's not like they're not on the list, but I doubt they're very high on the list.

Big Star
Estimated Years Eligible: 14
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 50-1

Pretty much the poster boys for all those bands who have exerted a completely disproportionate influence relative to their popularity. I just checked Wikipedia and I see that the Box Tops haven't even been inducted yet. If anyone deserves a double induction it's Alex Chilton, yet I see his first band getting the nod a long time before anyone thinks to give it to the guys who, you know, pretty much invented "indie" rock.

Devo
Estimated Years Eligible: 8
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 15-1

I'd say the odds are good these guys will eventually make it, but it won't be soon. They've got the whole "funny" think working against them, despite their undeniable influence, and despite the fact that the ideas behind their music were about as funny as a heart attack. Old white guys don't care for satire in their rock & roll, don't you know. And they don't care for synthesizers either, despite the fact that they were by all accounts always a ferocious live band.

Meat Puppets
Estimated Years Eligible: 5
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 30-1

The best chance these guys have will be in a few years when all the grunge guys get inducted - you know, all the guys who built their careers off the riffs on Meat Puppets II. (Which is a lot more people than just Kurt Cobain.) One of the biggest problems the Hall of Fame is going to have in the coming years is the fact that, starting in the late 70s and working through the 80s, the majority of critically acclaimed acts were simply not very popular by any reasonable stretch of the imagination. There's a huge disconnect in the 80s and 90s and 00s between what the critics and musicians listen to and what actually sells records. Are we going to see the Smashing Pumpkins inducted before Pavement? Amazingly, the Meat Puppets do actually have one Gold record to their name - 1994's Too High To Die - but their weirdness and obscurity will probably keep them out of the Hall of Fame.

The Replacements
Estimated Years Eligible: 5
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 25-1

Just slightly more likely than the Meat Puppets. Made some of the best records of the 80s, left an enduring legacy, but just not very popular. Again, when the 90s guys start getting in there's a chance they might sneak in under the radar as "influences" if people like Eddie Vedder make a big deal about it. There's a slight chance. And, you know, in thirty years when all the current old white guys are dead and the old white guys will be people who grew up in the 80s, then there will be another chance that some rich and powerful established artist might lobby for an aging Paul Westerberg in much the same way Elton John obviously did for Leon Russell this year.

Minor Threat
Estimated Years Eligible: 6
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 100-1

Hah! I'm sorry, what? You founded a whole genre of rock but you also did it by flipping the proverbial bird to every old rich white guy in the business? Eh, sorry, I think this is the year we finally give Grand Funk Railroad their long overdue recognition.

Sonic Youth
Estimated Years Eligible: 4
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 10-1

I give good odds on these guys making it eventually. Maybe they'll make it the same year as Nirvana - which is, you know, only three years away! Do you feel old yet? But in the meantime, you know, Eric Clapton's Taint ain't gonna nominate itself, guys.

They Might Be Giants
Estimated Years Eligible: 1
Chances of Eventually Being Inducted: 15-1

They Might Be Giants will be eligible for nomination this coming year, I believe. (If you didn't feel old yet today, you do now.) I think they have a pretty good chance, in time. Their career trajectory has been almost as influential as their music at this point, and their significance to the evolution of indie rock in the late 80s and early 90s cannot be overstated, even if it only seems as if they were on a different planet entirely from bands like Nirvana and Sonic Youth. They started out as DIY as possible, went to a major label and got a Platinum plaque, then went indie again and probably make more money now than they did then by a wide margin. They were the first band to release exclusive original material on the internet. They might have a few more gray hairs before they get the call, but I think in the long run they stand a better chance than Big Star or the Meat Puppets.

If No One Else Cares . . .



I look forward to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony every year. I stopped caring long ago about whether or not we should care about the Hall of Fame, when I realized something very simple: it's not really about trainspotters and armchair critics such as you and I, analyzing and discussing who is and isn't worthy to be inducted next to industry giants such as the Eagles and David Crosby (twice!). It's about people who actually do deserve the award and who really, really, really appreciate the honor.

I came to this realization back in 2007 during the induction ceremony for Patti Smith. Now, Smith by then was a few years' overdue for induction. Her status as a critical darling "musician's musician" meant that while she wasn't guaranteed to get in soon, she would probably get in eventually. If you were to compile a list of all the people in rock who probably don't need any more affirmation to prove that they are incredibly awesome and influential, Smith is near the top of that list. She influenced half the people who influenced all the people currently bumping on your iPod. And yet . . . up on stage clutching her statue, Smith started to cry, talking about her late husband Fred Smith and how he had been certain she would be inducted . . . eventually. When the day finally came, it meant a lot to her, and it was great to see.

So that's why I pay attention every year. While there may be any number of less deserving nominees, and always the obvious picks who hardly need the additional recognition, there will always be those who really do deserve it, and who deserve to have the recognition and respect of their peers validated in as definitive a way as possible. 2009 is a good year for comparison: yeah, Metallica were always getting in on the first eligible ballot, and yeah, they certainly deserved it. Run DMC were similarly "sure things." But you know who probably appreciated the award most that year? Bobby Womack and Little Anthony.

This year was an odd year. There were no young first-ballot inductees, it was all old folks who had either been overlooked in previous years or simply forgotten. Alice Cooper, Dr. John, Leon Russell, Darlene Love, Tom Waits and Neil Diamond. Of them all, the biggest surprise was obviously Waits, another one of those "critical darlings" so firmly entrenched on the far side of the mainstream that one could easily imagine him never getting the nod. I've never been the biggest Waits fan but it was still nice to see him get the nod. (Maybe it's time for one of my periodic attempts to get into Waits?)

New Orleans funk had always been one of those genres that people claimed never got any respect from the Hall, so putting in Dr. John and Leon Russell in one fell swoop, while long overdue, certainly felt like "unfinished business." Dr. John basically looks like Dr. John always has, but Leon Russell - if you've seen his picture recently - has obviously seen better days. He's practically a ghost - Wikipedia says he's only 69 but you could be forgiven for thinking he was twenty years older from his pallor and obvious weakness. By all accounts Elton John apparently resurrected the man after a string of debilitating illnesses and an end-of-career depression: it's always truly great to see that kind of belated but long overdue respect and recognition for someone who obviously very desperately needed it.

Darlene Love is someone who was similarly appreciative, even if she had - comparatively speaking - been doing fine for herself, still performing. When I heard she was 70 you could have knocked me over with a feather - since when can septuagenarians pull off those kind of plunging necklines?

It was nice to see Bette Midler induct her, although - sorry, Bette - you might have a while to wait before your induction. You've got a triple curse: you're primarily known as being a "standards" singer (hardly the most popular artist in today's climate), you spent a disconcerting amount of time in the schlocky adult contemporary ghetto, and you've never taken yourself particularly seriously. How many people remember the glory days of her sui generis "Divine Miss M" cabaret / rock show / Borscht belt comedy revue? Maybe if you come out with some super-serious Americana roots think produced by T Bone Burnett and / or Rick Rubin you've got a chance.

Alice Cooper deserved his shot, but it's not hard to see why it took so long. The Hall of Fame basically operates under the guiding principle that if it wasn't getting 4-and-a-half star reviews from Rolling Stone in the mid-70s, it doesn't count as good - with the exception, of course, of groups who have sold hundreds of millions of records. Which means that groups and artists who may not have been critical darlings in their time but who have nevertheless proven to be singularly influential and of enduring quality might be stuck waiting. Black Sabbath had to wait a long time for their induction, despite the fact that they are (obviously!) one of the most influential bands of all time. Greil Marcus never wrote an essay about Ozzy Osborne's relation to Herman Melville, no doubt. Cooper was overdue even if you could still sort of sense some of the gray-hairs in the audience bristling when he brought a choir of blood-stained schoolchildren for a rousing chorus of "School's Out." If Sabbath and Cooper are in I think we will probably live to see Kiss inducted, but it will undoubtedly be the most grudging acknowledgment in the history of awards show.

But of course, the big name of the night was Neil Diamond. His induction was so overdue that Paul Simon made a point of leading off his induction speech with the fact that it was twenty years overdue. I think he might have been eligible for even longer than that, but the point stands: how is it that we're even still talking about this in 2011? I mean, seriously, you're not going to find many fervent Diamond fans in the under-fifty set, but the fact that he wasn't inducted decades ago is simply perverse. To his credit he responded in kind during his acceptance speech. He was obviously drunk, had not bothered to prepare any words other than a backhanded "fuck you" to Paul Simon for slagging on Barbara Streisand during his induction speech, and spent half the time taking pictures of the crowd with his iPhone. But then he launched into a pitch-perfect rendition of "I Am, I Said," and at that point it was almost kind of funny to see someone who, let's be honest, was at one point one of the biggest mega-superstars on the planet before settling down to be just a normal garden-variety superstar, slumming for a long, long, long overdue recognition from the Hall of Fame. Like, "fuck all y'all, when I'm done here I'm going home to sit in my sapphire-encrusted hot tub and watch season four of Mad Men on a plasma screen TV the size of Ecuador."

Got That Swag



When we are young we are all baby birds, clean slates awaiting the first mark. The mark is made by our idols, the first images of "cool" that imprint themselves on our consciousness. Whether we realize it or not we're stuck with the idea of "cool" we form from a very young age, and although we can always change and grow and learn new things, those first pieces of cool wedge themselves very deeply into our nascent personas.