Monday, August 29, 2005

You're Fired


This is the story of a corporation.

There are many corporations in the world, and some of these corporations own smaller corporations. All of these smaller corporations have their own corporate structures that fit within the framework of larger structures. Sometimes the infinitely digressive nature of corporate insularity protects the smaller companies from the larger companies. Sometimes a larger company wakes up after a long slumber and realizes that the smaller companies in its belly have not, in fact, dissolved in a stew of gastric juices, but have in fact evolved into strange quasi-independent entities that exist in little or no relation to the prerogatives of the larger companies.

One fine day, in the boardrooms of XXXX-XXXXXX, a minor executive was called before a major executive to deliver a status report.

"Um. I see we still publish these things. I didn't know that. That was a surprise to me."

"Yes sir. We still publish these things."

"I thought it was just cartoons . . . oh well. From the looks of these reports, you've had a good year - consistent growth from quarter-to-quarter."

"We've streamlined a number of line-wide initiatives -"

"Yes, yes, I don't really care about all that. You know we've always allowed you to operate with a modicum of autonomy as long as you provide us with the raw materials for cartoons and movies. That's what I'm here to talk to you about today."

"It's been a big year for our movies. After the regrettable XXXXXXXX fiasco, we seem to have recovered well."

"That was the last dog we'll see for a long time, with any luck. We've got half-a-dozen solid blockbusters in the pipeline, all of which originated in your department. Now, I heard you organized your own publishing launch to coincide with the XXXXXX movie . . . how did that go?"

"Brilliantly. XXX-XXXX XXXXXX X XXXXX XXX XXX XXXXXXX broke sales records for the decade-to-date and dominated the competition. It will be our biggest seller for the year and will undoubtedly do well in collection for years to come."

"Yes, I saw that in this prospectus . . . on paper, it looks wonderful. Now, you know we're already working on the next XXXXXX movie. This last one didn't make quite as much money as we would have hoped but considering how bad the last one was we figure in another two or three years the pump will be primed for an explosive success, as long as the quality is there. Now that the bad taste of XXXXXX X XXXXX is out of people's mouths, we can focus the next few years on selling XXXXXX DVDs, underwear and comics to our hearts content. You should probably know that the people in the big office are starting to pay more attention to your division - they expect big things."

"We aim to please."

"Now, about XXX-XXXX XXXXXX X XXXXX XXX XXX XXXXXXX - what we hoped was that, to put it bluntly, we could get a XXXXXX comic that anyone could read without any knowledge of any past stories. Basically, anyone who walked off the street after seeing the movie could find the same character they just saw on the screen doing similar things. No fancy tricks. Quite honestly, we know that you folks know how best to publish your comics, but most of them are essentially gobbledygook."

"Ah . . . well, we've taken steps to ensure that the XXX-XXXX line will be as accessible as possible. We've got the best creators in the field.

"I hope, for your sake, that this is so. Now, a couple years ago, XXXX had that XXXXXX-XXX movie that was so big . . . my kids loved it. Took them to see it three times. Then, for Christmas, we got them a book - I can't get them to look at most of our stuff, they just like the Yu-Gi-Oh! crap - but it was a book that had simple, accessible XXXXXX-XXX stories in it . . . what was it? Ultimate something or other . . ."

"We don't use that word here! Say 'iconic!' Not 'ultimate!' Never 'ultimate!'

"Why, you seem to be rather upset - hear, take my handkerchief, you've got a bit of spittle on your chin. You shouldn't be so upset. A good initiative is a good initiative - nothing succeeds like success. That's why we copy success."

"We're not copying them. We're producing iconic-

"I hope for your sake you are copying them, because it's working. I can walk into Barnes & Noble, and that might be the only American comic book I can give my kid that he would have a damn bit of interest in. What I want from you is simple - a XXXXXX comic I can give my kid that he would want to read and doesn't need a PHd in Nerd to understand."

"Well, have you read it yet?"

"No, I was hoping you had a copy."

I do. We all carry copies for just such an occasion."

The book is exchanged. Five minutes pass.

"Um."

"Yes?"

"This isn't quite what I was expecting."

"Ah . . . how so?"

"This writer . . . what's his name . . . ah, XXXXXX. I recognize that name. Has he ever written a XXXXXX comic before?"

Yes, he wrote some of the best XXXXXX stories ever published. That's why it was such a coup to land him for XXX-XXXX XXXXXX X XXXXX XXX XXX XXXXXXX."

"Well, this is a piece of crap. This dialogue is horrible. The plot is infantile. You've turned XXXXXX into a pedophile."

"Ah, sir, this is the biggest book of the year . . ."

"I understand that. How many people bought this?"

"We sold almost 300,000 copies."

"How many copies of the second issue do you think you'll sell?"

Probably not as many . . . attrition is expected with these type of events."

"I see. I suppose you think that's natural. Let me ask you why you chose to hire someone to write a XXXXXX comic book who betrays, on almost every page, a visible disinterest in writing a XXXXXX comic book?"

"But sir, he's XXXXX XXXXXX . . ."

"I know who he is. This reads like he wrote it in an hour on the back of a cocktail napkin."

"No, no, you don't understand. It's satire. He's known for hard-boiled stories, and if you've read his previous XXXXXX books you'll see this is a logical progression-"

"Satire. This is your big publishing initiative, the publishing accompaniment to one of the biggest movies of the summer, the gateway book for a whole new generation of XXXXXX fans . . . a satire that depends on years of prior knowledge of both the character's history and the writer's career, and which, even then can easily be misinterpreted as simply a poorly written comic book?"

"Er, yes."

"Do you understand why that might be something of a disappointment to us?"

"Maybe."

"If you try to defend this as satire to the man on the street, who is the presumed target of any 'iconic' treatment such as this, you will get a look of baffled indifference. Satire only works if your audience is familiar with the subject matter. I can't put this in a hardcover and sell it in the window at Barnes & Noble, not if I ever want to sell another comic to a general audience again. it would poison the well for generations to come."

"But it was the best-selling book-"

"Which is all well and good, but we were hoping for something more long-time, the kind of evergreen success that might conceivably have justified the rather high corporate bonuses your division received last year. Perhaps your division will need to be held to closer scrutiny in the future."

"Well, sir, if you're not happy, I can assure you-"

"You need assure me of nothing. You are fired."

"Um. Um. Yes sir.

Then the major executive tore off his man suit, revealing a body composed of undulating tentacles and teeth. The minor executive only had a moment to lament his error before being ground up into tiny pieces and digested by the massive abomination from beyond the stars.

The End

Friday, August 26, 2005

The Chronicles of the Human Fly
Chapter One


There is little doubt that The Human Fly is one of the most bizarre books Marvel has ever published. Even in an era - the late 70s / early 80s - when the stands were literally clogged with weird crap, The Human Fly stood out from the pack.

I am absolutely convinced, even if I can't prove it at this time, that the only reason that this book was ever published is that at some point in time Evel Knievel refused to grant Marvel the license. Because that's basically what the Human Fly is: a poor man's Evel Knievel. And Evel Knievel wasn't exactly a high-rent concept to begin with. Certainly, there has never been and there will never be a shortage of people willing to pay for the privelage of seeing some poor schmuck risk life and limb doing stupid things. The success of shows like Survivor and Fear Factor attest to the fact that danger never goes out of style.

But the difference here is simple: the dangerous stunts on all modern "reality" programs are essentially simulated. Never once, to my knowledge, has anyone on Fear Factor been asked to do something that might actually result in death or dismemberment. Every bungee-jump is triple-checked for safety, safety nets are always on hand, and there are no shards of glass in the worm-burgers (or whatever) they have to scarf for points. Back in the 70s, however, real-life "daredevils" like Evel Knevel made a "living" by putting their lives in honest-to-God jeopardy. At the very least I suppose you could say that modern reality programming is an improvement over seeing real people attempt non-simulated suicide . . . but this is only a relative improvement.

Marvel has never met a bandwagon it couldn't co-opt. Roller-disco was big in the 70s, so they created a roller-disco superhero named Dazzler. (They also created a plain-vanilla disco super-villain named the Hypno Hustler. One of them got to join the X-Men and still appears semi-regularly to this day, the other was never heard from again - let's see if you can guess which one.) Blaxploitation gave us Luke Cage. The kung-fu craze gave us Shang-Chi. Trucking was big (sort of . . . the 70s was a strange time), so we got U.S. 1 and Razorback. Drugs were big in the 80s so we got Cloak & Dagger. Marvel even tried again with a concept that bore significant similarities to The Human Fly - Team America, which wasn't merely one daredevil but a whole team of daredevils (and, significantly, it wasn't a licensed project).

It's worth pointing out that at some point - perhaps not-so- coincidentally, around the time Jim Shooter left Marvel - the powers-that-be at the company stopped trying to chase every fad. Also, in most cases, anything that Marvel created to exploit a passing fad usually came out a few years after said fad was already in the dust. All of which means, thankfully, we were spared a forty-something white guy's attempt at creating a hip-hop superhero. A "Who Let The Dogs Out?" supervillain would probably be premiering right about now if Shooter still edited the Marvel line.




The Human Fly's existence has left a surprisingly sparse record. Others have already tried to track this elusive prey, with variable levels of success. The Human Fly was apparently a man known as Rick Rojatt. There was another "Human Fly" in 1977 - a man named George Willig who scaled the World Trade center on May 26 - but this one-time stunt had no connection to Rojatt's career.

Evel Knievel has never been a shrinking violet, continuing to promote himself and his various charitable endeavors. albeit on something of a reduced scale, long after his heydey in the 1970s (his website can be found here). Never one to shrink from self-promotion, he even goes so far as to make the somewhat dubious claim that "Knievel was credited with re-vitalizing the poorly performing toy industry in the 70's". It wouldn't surprise me if Knievel toys were popular, since they made quite a few of them, but I have a hard time believing that motorcycle daredevil toys could possibly have outgrossed Star Wars as the premiere children's toys of the late 1970's and early 1980's. Not inconceivable, but a surprising claim nonetheless.

In any event, the popularity of daredevil stuntmen eventually disappeared entirely in the early 80s, and with it, Rojatt's career. The most significant Rojatt-related anecdote online is a story by Ky Michaelson - "The Rocketman" - a rocket aficianado and the man who custom-crafted the rocket cycle Rojatt used in his 1977 jump over 27 buses at the Montreal Olympic Stadium. The whole story, complete with a few wonderful pictures, is here. I don't want to steal Michaelson's thunder - it's a great story - but a couple passages relating to the Rojatt's character stand out as particularly revealing:
"The other very unique thing about this off-the-wall daredevil was that he was never seen out of costume, and kept his true identity a secret by wearing a red mask and a white cape, identical to the comic book action hero. . . . From the moment I met this guy, I was convinced he was an accident looking for a place to happen, especially when he told me he wanted to attempt 36 buses."

"We went over the stunt as thoroughly as possible, and much to my amazement, Rick didn't want to do any practice runs at all. He just sat on the bike, admiring it, determined to just wait until the time came. I gave him step-by-step detailed instructions on how to operate the rockets, and he just took it all in, nodding as I went along. I knew he understood what I was saying, but I hardly slept that night because I was always so safety conscious, and typically rehearsed stunts many a time before actually performing them. . . . I was uneasy with this particular situation."
So - what we have is someone with a secret identity, a death wish, and a disinterest in safety precautions. Sounds like a borderline psychotic to me - but hey, it was the 70s.

The only other artifact from the Fly's career that have surfaced online is a photograph and brief description of another, even more psychotic stunt:

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Click to enlarge image


According to the Mojave Transportation Museum's virtual archive:
"The Human Fly, a dare devil/stunt performer named Rick Rojatt, lives out the Marvel Comics character on the back of a DC-8 cruising low at 250 knots, flown by Clay Lacy at the Mojave California 1000 air races."


Here's a picture of the Fly on top of another airplane, proving that he did it at least twice:



The DC-8 stunt would be referenced in the very first issue of the Fly's comic.

Other than these two strange stories, no other evidence of Rojatt's career has surfaced online (and because this is the digital age, I'm way to lazy to actually go to a library and look him up). The one other detail about Rojatt that may have had any bearing on his life and career is that he was Canadian . . . but a search of the online Canadian white pages find no one with the name "Rojatt" anywhere in the confines of the country. Perhaps, at some point in the late 70s, the Human Fly did something so terrible, so inconceivable, that all record of his name and legend was wiped from the books?

Well, probably not. He probably just faded into obscurity like most of the other late 70s Knievel wannabes.

Join us next time as we actually begin our in-depth look at Marvel's Human Fly series - don't miss it!