See, when I started buying comics, Wonder Woman was the first and only title on my pull list. I somehow fell into a group of friends who had collections of comics and trades to borrow for YEARS (I still haven’t read all of their libraries), but I wanted to support Wonder Woman. It helped that Gail Simone would be writing the character soon after, but I did it for Diana. Since then, many books have come and gone from my pull list. Wonder Woman is the only title that has been constant. For better or worse (JMS), I have been buying and reading Wonder Woman every month since I jumped down the comic book rabbit hole.

I am also one of many who, as a little girl, watched episodes of the TV series and did my damndest to spin into something more wonderful than my four-year-old little self.

"When I grow up, I want to have an invisible plane!"

The character and qualities of Wonder Woman inspired me then and has come to mean something very special to me today.

In the last three issues of Azzarello’s Wonder Woman, I find myself less than inspired. What started off strong is now bringing diminished returns in the form of Diana’s intellect, or lack thereof. Diana is repeatedly being tricked or lied to in some monumental way, and she’s falling for it.

I recall a conversation I once had with my grandmother. As matriarchs do, she had questions about the guy I was dating at the time. I answered her questions, but she was skeptical about him. While she would never dictate who I date, she did look me square in the face and say, “You are very smart, Vanessa. Don’t you dare dumb down for him!”

I didn’t.

We aren’t together anymore.

Now, everyone isn’t my ex-boyfriend, and I am certainly not Wonder Woman. As Azzarello’s Wonder Woman is selling better than the title has in a very long while, I wonder: Is a naive and easily manipulated Diana more palatable to the masses? Do we like our Wonder Woman better stupid?

"OMG! Did Hades just trick me?"

"Yup. Hades totes tricked me."

"I was born yesterday. The Amazons have been doing what for centuries?"

"What's Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Dead people attacking me. In hell?"

Yeah, Diana. I'm shot through the heart too ... with that damn look on your face. Also, Hades tricked you. Again.

I know there are various methods in fiction writing that make the protagonist interesting. One of them is creating conflict and struggle in order to build the character back up, and to give the audience something to root for. But Azzarello’s “deconstruction” of Diana’s personality is irritating the living shit out of me. Diana of Themyscira as a dumbass has got my goat far worse than the vilification of the Amazons. Apparently being one of Zeus’ bastards throws Athena’s wisdom out the door. Perhaps it’s a punishment from Hera.

How do you grow up in a culture and not know the Amazons give away their sons? How do you worship, study and interact with these gods, yet not know how treacherous they can be? How do you go to hell and be duped in such a grand way when you once walked through Hades blind? Why the fuck did you hand Hades Eros’ guns!!!?

At the beginning of Azzarello’s run, I was singing the praises of his Wonder Woman. She seemed capable and self-possessed. Even with the revelation that her birth was not divine magic, I did not feel that was forced or incongruent with the Diana that we know and love. But the barrage of naiveté in Wonder Woman is just plain disappointing.

I look at her counterparts in the DCU. Batman is inherently flawed, so maybe that’s why the masses worship him so. Superman’s easy. Corn-fed white boys are always in style in America, even if they don’t know it. But Wondy’s key persona has been put through the wringer over the past two years in an attempt to sell books or reinvent the character, and I am tired of it.

Let me make it easy for you. Wonder Woman is compassionate. She is skilled at war and diplomacy. Wonder Woman is brave. She is strong – physically and mentally. She is fair. Wonder Woman is determined. She is regal. Wonder Woman is wise.

Azzarello, you may very well be a genius writer. OR … you could be a Blorgon in disguise. I sure as hell don’t know. I don’t know you. But I want you to know what you are dealing with. Yes, Bat-followers are just about every dude in America and Supes fans are far and wide. But Wonder Woman fans are different. She is our leading lady, and there are few in all of fiction as powerful as her. So, we are invested in her future.

Kevin Smith can write Bruce admitting to pissing his pants, and it gets laughed into the ether. We’ve all but forgotten about Superman walking. But I have a feeling what you are doing with Wonder Woman is going to stick. You are moving books for DC on this title for the first time in a long time (save #600), and that means money. Money means power. Power to do what you will with Diana. I know you’ve got the ending planned already, but I hope to see her offered a bit more wisdom and grace along the way.

Please take care of our Amazon Princess. Not for her (because she can take care of herself), but for us.

The flip side is that if you Google “Jubilee illustration,” even with some filters on, you’re gonna turn up some gnarly fan art. These are the kinds of things that were once confined to diaries and sketchbooks buried under mattresses (or perhaps passed around in locker rooms). It’s a free country, so if you want to draw Starfire in a compromising position with The Spectre, well, that’s your business. But I often search the Net for good art to share with our readers, and it’s beyond depressing to see so many female characters — and they are almost always female — depicted in degrading, even hostile ways. They’re bound and gagged, possessed of porn boobs, or portrayed in the most clinically sexual fashion imaginable — usually while servicing a guy. I’m not talking about illustrations that are merely erotic, because the good fan artists seem to have some affection and respect for the characters they’re drawing. I get it; Emma Frost is sexy. Zatanna is sexy. Still, there is a world of difference between drawing a saucy pinup and/or a moment of adult intimacy and creating/posting something that says, “See? She’s nothing but a scantily clad blow-up doll. Not so high and mighty on her knees, huh?” It shows such a fundamental lack of understanding of a heroic character, but I guess that’s not the point when you’re drawing Sue Storm on the pole.

Masturbatory art (and fanfic for that matter) has always existed, so perhaps I am reading too much into these images. However, I don’t think it is coincidental that some of the most powerful women in comics are often the objects of such degradation. It’s one thing to cheekily comment on a character’s attractiveness, which we do all the time. But when strong heroines like Supergirl or Storm are stripped of all dignity and presented so crudely, it speaks volumes about how the “artist” perceives women in real life. I say “women,” because I have yet to come across a picture of Green Arrow in chains or kneeling at someone’s crotch. And while I think it’s a parent’s responsibility to keep tabs on what their children are doing online, a kid ought to be able to Google a drawing of Wonder Girl without turning up some foolishness that’s going to send them to therapy.

As great as it is to find truly delightful art — and there’s plenty of it out there — taking the occasional detour through the misogynist gutter is a crummy experience. If this lament makes me a prude or a repressed fangirl, I’ll wear the title proudly.

A character, not a "statement"

By now, you’ve probably seen Gail Simone’s fierce, utterly awesome rebuttal to an aspiring comic book writer who said, essentially, that characters should not be forced on publishers for the sake of inclusion. Specifically, gay characters. This person’s argument is annoying for a number of reasons, but what struck me is how frequently I’ve heard versions of this from otherwise reasonable people. Say that you want to see more high-profile minorities in comics, and someone inevitably will respond, “Race/sexual orientation shouldn’t enter into it. I hate it when someone does that just to look progressive. A good character is a good character.” What they’re really saying is the default is white and straight (and often male), and anything outside of that default is possibly tainted by a 1) a quota system or 2) an attempt to appease a narrow, agitated fan base.

I’m sorry, but that is both insulting and outrageously presumptuous. When was the last time someone took issue with the creation of a straight, white, male hero? Fans might deride the character for being lame, but no one will say, “I think the publisher is trying to make some kind of statement here.” Exhibit A: Batwoman. When Greg Rucka rebooted Kate Kane as a modern heroine who happened to be gay, some cynical fans claimed her sexuality was a naked publicity stunt. You could practically hear the sneering. Look, I understand that reporters need a newsworthy hook for a story, and launching a high-profile, gay, female character IS quite a hook. But as Rucka later explained — and readers eventually saw for themselves — being gay is just one piece of who Kate is. Like being an alien is just one piece of who Clark Kent is. Like being obsessive is one piece of who Bruce Wayne is. If Batwoman’s stories had sucked or been strained and inauthentic, that would have nothing to do with her sexual orientation and everything to do with poor writing. Of course, that turned out not to be the case.

Gail came down hard on old boy, but I think she just snapped, and understandably so. Comics are far more inclusive than they used to be, and they keep getting better. But the fact that someone felt moved to complain about a fan’s desire for a marquee, gay, male superhero — in 2011! — floors me. People of color and gays happen to be, I dunno, part of society, not mere artistic fetishes. But what do I know? Perhaps I’m just an angry, unreasonable black geek with an agenda and a quota Excel spreadsheet.

Your pull list is an embarrassment.

Every community, from LARPers to knitting circles, has its version of the hipster. If you think about it, comics are particularly fertile ground for these creatures, because the medium marries literature and art — two subjects that bring out the hipster’s trademark qualities: pretension and a penchant for constant one-upsmanship. Let’s call this geek/hipster hybrid the “geepster” (pork pie hat, optional).

When you meet another comics lover and begin the what-do-you-read dance, there’s always the danger of being harshly judged if your pull list contains Spandex. Or as V. recalled from one such maddening encounter, “You read superhero comics? That’s so mainstream.” It’s like talking to a Sigur Ros fan and proudly saying you adore Coldplay (raises hand).

“I haven’t read those books since I was in high school,” the geepster sniffs. “I mean, they’re fine for what they do, but I’m really into this series by a French farmer/architect that you can’t even get in local shops. It’s a wordless commentary on sexuality and environmental warfare, and, no offense, but it makes Sandman look juvenile.”

The geepster’s blanket dismissal of popular comics grinds my gears. First of all, there’s nothing mainstream about reading comic books, and that includes capes. I live in a city where it’s considered normal to paint oneself a festive shade of cranberry on football game day, but put a Dr. Fate figurine on your desk, and suddenly, you’re downright alternative. The major publishers are staunchly corporate, but comics have deep underdog roots. Some of the best-loved characters were created by Jewish guys who, in their day, were considered outside of mainstream American culture and the power structure. Plus, if reading comics of any kind were a common pursuit, geeks wouldn’t need the equivalent of an international coming-out day to show the world that “normal” people read then. Superhero movies are popular with the general public, but that’s not the same as having a standing date on Wednesday with your LCS owner. Not even close.

V. and I read under-the-radar books all the time, and we are evangelical about the ones we like. Our issues with the Big Two are well documented, and who hasn’t cracked open a superhero book on occasion and groaned with disdain? But when geepsters act as though there are no worthwhile “mainstream” comics, that tells me they haven’t read any in a long time. Secret Six? Fantastic Four? X-Force? Invincible? Call me crazy, but those are some pretty damn fine books. And I’m not reading them ironically. A good comic is a good comic, and some of the indie stuff is sketchy, too.

On a related note, I ran across some thoughtful essays on the shaky relationship between geeks and hipsters, and how some books (Scott Pilgrim) are bridging the divide. So perhaps we can all put down our trade paperback-stuffed messenger bags, roll up the sleeves of our shrunken, Goodwill cardigans and hold hands.* For giggles, I highly recommend this.

*In the interest of full disclosure, I do own a messenger bag and a shrunken cardigan sweater. Don’t judge me.

Yeah. I feel your pain, bro.

Some of you may recall that a while back, I did a poll asking whether or not I should finish reading Crisis on Infinite Earths. At the time, I wasn’t enjoying the book, but I thought I’d let you guys decide. By a very slim margin, it was decided that, yes, I should finish the book. I said that I would do it; therefore, I felt like I had to do it. I also had some sort of misplaced loyalty to comic fandom. Much of what I read is DC, and this is a part of DC continuity — a very big part. But you know what? I can’t fucking do it.

This book just doesn’t do it for me. The ’80s were a much different time for comic books, and when I was five, I didn’t read comics. It is not nostalgic; it’s not even vintage. It is just boring. I’m not a masochist, but it started to feel like I might be teetering on the edge. I tried to finish it. I picked the damn thing up countless times, only to fall asleep after ten pages. Other times, my mind would drift off to how I’d rather be cleaning my tub. Twenty pages would go by, and I’d have no idea what I just read. Sometimes I just put it down out of sheer frustration.

While Chucks, skinny jeans, and those stupid plastic sunglasses have made a comeback, big hair, female leads drizzled in weak sauce, and a story that’s been done a bajillion times over HAVE NOT. I get it; at the time it was a big damn deal, and it is the very thing that inspired the previously mentioned done-over stories. But I read those stories first, so reading this is not satisfying. This particular story is SO CONVOLUTED, and the characters I love now were portrayed so differently back then. Particularly Batgirl. I couldn’t stand the envy scene with Supergirl, where Babs is all self-deprecating because she doesn’t have super powers. UGH! Give me a break.

I will acknowledge two things: First, Superman throwing planets is so absurd … it’s awesome. Second, George Perez is the man.

My dismay of “big hair” is not a knock on Perez’s pencils. I get that they were a reflection of the times. Honestly, his pencils are stellar. That is a lot of art and a lot of characters smooshed into those panels, and he pulled it off. He did better than pull it off. George Perez is a force to be reckoned with. I have the utmost respect for his art. Now, what I don’t like are the colors. Perhaps it would have been difficult to differentiate between so many characters without the extreme color, but frankly, it was garish. It detracted from Perez’s work and just annoyed me.

So there it is. I don’t like the story, and the ostentatious coloring irked your girl. There are far, FAR too many other books out there that I would love to spend my time reading. If that makes me less of a DC fangirl, well I don’t care.

For the record, the above mentioned poll determining whether I was to finish Crisis or not was tainted anyway. A coworker and fellow geek thought it’d be funny to vote a bunch of times for me to read it, because he knew that I didn’t want to. I’m looking at you, Truelove.

If only.

There’s some great work being done on television, and there are a number of shows I’d watch gladly before forking over $10 for a paint-by-numbers blockbuster. The big screen isn’t always superior, and lots of comic book characters would be well-served by a thoughtful TV vehicle. Just look at Smallville.

And yet, when the story broke that David E. Kelley was developing a new Wonder Woman TV series, I was somewhere between indifferent and disappointed. And it has very little to do with Kelley or his previous work, though I did hate Ally McBeal.

There have been five major Batman releases since 1988, and the sixth is in the works. Superman’s live-action movie career dates back to the 1970s, and his sixth outing is on the way. That’s not even counting the animated television vehicles and God knows how many major comic book stories — many of them modern classics. But while her fellow DC Trinity teammates are riding high in first class, Wondy’s still flying coach, despite having her own damn plane. To further extend the metaphor, why is one of the best-known comic book heroes ever, male or female, languishing on the runway? I’m sure the Green Lantern movie will be somewhere between workmanlike and very good, but  he gets a film franchise before Diana? Really? (And please don’t tell me that her costume is the problem, because all superhero garb is essentially ridiculous.) For a more detailed version of this rant, click here.

I’m not privy to anything happening behind the scenes at DC-Warner Bros., so this is baldfaced conjecture on my part. However, I think this speaks volumes about the character’s importance, or lack thereof, to her keepers. Joe and Jane Sixpack know who Wonder Woman is, but it’s entirely possible that they’ve never heard of Hal Jordan. However, he, along with Bats and Supes have benefited from a great deal of corporate nurturing. Even in her own $2.99 comic book, Wonder Woman has been diminished for a gimmicky, generic story that, trust me, will not stand alongside Hush 50 years from now.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that a Wonder Woman movie would be good, and the new TV show could turn out to be a winner. Like every other Gen Xer in the late 1970s, I was glued to the screen when Lynda Carter spun and transformed into the Amazon Princess. It’s cool to think that a new generation of kids could be inspired to rip some tinfoil and form it into bracelets. But it would be a lot cooler if Wonder Woman got the respect and attention that a hero of her caliber truly deserves.

On Friday, I saw mention of the similarities between a few pages in Madame Xanadu #28 and the general premise of the main character in Chew. Madame Xanadu is on my pull list, so I had already read the issue and noticed said similarity because I also read Chew monthly.

Basically, in last week’s issue of Madame Xanadu, there were splash pages (not just panels) showing the female protagonist having psychic visions of the food she eats. It was so similar to Chew that it even featured an orange grove and images of a slaughterhouse. When I read it, I said out loud, “Um. That is just like Chew. Please don’t use the word cibopath. PLEASE.” It didn’t, and the book went on to say that the woman was a clairvoyant who needed “training,” as her visions were working in reverse. Thus, she went to Madame Xanadu to be mentored. OK. Fine.

What’s giving me so much heartburn is that I love both books, and it would seem that one has stolen from the other. It’s as if my two best friends were fighting. I’ve flat-out said Chew is the best comic book I have ever read. I meant that. I adore Madame Xanadu too, to the point that I am genuinely sad that the book is ending. Wagner has given heart and soul to Nimue all along. But I gave specific praise to Madame Xanadu editor Shelly Bond for this current story arc, because it features a group of up-and-coming female artists. It is in this very arc that the swipe occurred.

I don’t presume to know what goes on at these publishing companies; I’m just a fangirl. I’m sure every writer has their process, and the way they communicate to the artists probably varies from person to person, and an editor’s involvement can also vary. But how is it that the very same editor to whom Chew was pitched is the editor on a different book with a strikingly similar element? Mind you, Vertigo rejected Layman and Guillory’s pitch for Chew.

Did Vertigo think that no one would notice the similarity to a New York Times bestselling book?

Madame Xanadu ends at issue #29, so let’s just throw the credibility of the entire book out the door right before it dies?!!!

Is this the sort of unethical bullshit artists and writers have to worry about when pitching their ideas? Is that even legal?!

This being Election Day and all, I suppose these aren’t things I should be getting my panties in a bunch about. There are certainly grander issues to concern myself with, but … Nimue deserves better! As Jimmy Fallon would say with a bad British accent as Robert Pattinson … as Edward Cullen: I’m BOTHERED!

THIS is the Amazon I'm looking for.

Where the hell is the Amazon Princess? The real one, I mean. Because this chick ain’t it.

I’ve been trying to identify exactly why, after some inspiring moments, the Wonder Woman reboot is beginning to get on my last nerve — why it feels so inauthentic and flimsy. The mythology is there. Her warrior pose and heroism are intact. I’m (mostly) over the costume change, and as someone who loved Mark Waid’s Superman: Birthright series, I’m not averse to radical overhauls of iconic characters. If it’s done well and truly game-changing, bring it on.

And yet, as I read Wonder Woman #603, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Diana deserves better than this. My favorite heroine has been reduced to a scowling teen who happens to have extraordinary strength and deity-given gifts. Notice I said “happens to have,” because those things are overshadowed by an off-putting persona and bitchy “Gossip Girl” lines like “Great. Wonderful. Love it. Isn’t anything ever easy?” It’s like Avril Lavigne circa 2003, without the catchy material.

Story-wise, issue #603 is serviceable, if somewhat familiar. Diana is escorting some rogue Amazons through the desert, where paranormal peril awaits. She has to fight some nasty creatures, The Keres, and then lands in Hades’ realm. For some reason, she’s barefoot and dressed in a white slip in the underworld. I do like scrappy, fighter Diana who (Hello, Maxwell Lord) will snap a fool’s neck if she has to. This certainly isn’t the first time Wonder Woman has been put through a trial that involves duking it out with mythological beasts.

The art, a group effort in this issue, is a mixed bag. Diana never looks bad, but in the first half of this comic, her breasts are so enormous that she’s in danger of tipping over. She looks like the recipient of some aggressive plastic surgery.

By the time this issue came to an end, all I could think was, “They took a blowtorch to the previous continuity for this?” I understand that the Wonder Woman comic has a wildly inconsistent track record and that few writers have really known what to do with her. In many cases, she’s been a hard character to get close to. I also realize that sales were low, and you gotta do what you gotta do to get readers’ attention — and that unfortunately includes readers who have problems with a strong, noble female character who doesn’t pander to their sexual fantasies, even while wearing a bathing suit. (At least, not since her early bondage days.)

Diabolu Frank at The New Wonder Woman blog offered a brilliant, concise summation of the character’s situation:

Batman and Superman have appeared in some of the greatest super-hero comic stories ever told, because DC has treated them as their most important properties for three-quarters of a century. There are few comic book heroes who have a ‘Killing Joke’ under their belt. Meanwhile, Wonder Woman has been treated like three day old fish for most of her publishing history, and is still a national treasure recognized the world over.

It’s obvious that this alternate timeline is temporary, and that Diana ultimately will emerge as an approximation of the character I’ve grown to love. We’re only a couple of issues in, but I have a sinking feeling that the reboot phase is a colossal waste of time and will do little to convert the indifferent.

Nimue does not take kindly to impending doom.

As with so many other things that are artistically awesome, they come to an end long before they should. Over at Bleeding Cool, rumor has it that Madame Xanadu will soon meet her demise at Vertigo. Whether because of corporate rearranging of characters, low sales, or the creators having other projects they deem priority, this falls under the category of tragic.

I only recently discovered Madame Xanadu. The first trade, “Disenchanted,” was exceptional. When I finished reading it, I immediately re-read it. Amy Reeder’s art is out of this world. She draws Madame Xanadu so beautifully, with ethereal hints of Manga that make her work bright and unique. Matt Wagner’s story is nothing short of brilliant. He depicts a character who is so powerful and ageless, yet internally flawed by deep emotional wounds a thousand years old. Wagner ingeniously weaves in characters like Merlin, The Phantom Stranger, and Morgan Le Fey, which entices the continuity hound in me. The second trade was also very good, albeit quite different. An alternate artist, Michael William Kaluta, added a rugged vibe to the arc. It worked for the time-period of the story. Think Spanish Inquisition and Jack the Ripper. The writing continued to be fanfuckingtastic as we see a more mature Xanadu, settling into who she’s decided to be. So good in fact, I started buying the issues. The most recent arc, beginning at #26 (check my review over at Newsarama), is very promising.

I could sycophantically profess 100 other things I love about this book, but I’ll stop here, as it’s not going to change anything. I’ve learned to accept that when I really, really love a book, it will inevitably get canned. I’m not so completely narcissistic to believe that I’m one of the few who recognize true excellence. But how does a book like Brightest Day (aka the UBER-MEH) continue on while Xanadu must cease? Sales, I’m sure. To that, I say: Advertise the damn book! I’m so over this “It’s not selling” cop-out. If Xanadu got nearly as much ad space as Brightest Day, I bet it would sell. Pardon me, Mr. Wagner, if I’m being presumptuous and assuming it wasn’t your decision. You are a gifted writer; perhaps you decided to move on. I know Ms. Reeder is taking on Batwoman (aka the MEGA-WIN), and covers for Supergirl, which I’m sure will be splendid. But why do the books I love have to go?

Birds of Prey is back, and that’s great. DC previously discontinued that book and let the characters get turned into feminine frailty. Gail Simone is very quickly rectifying that, but it took four years for DC to figure out what a gem they had with Simone and BoP. Amid the hoopla surrounding Wonder Woman, DC claimed her books weren’t selling either, thus justifying the redesign/reboot. Again, perhaps the books would sell if she got even half the ad space as Batman. Issue #600 sold like hotcakes because it was advertised out the wazoo, combined with the gimmick of changing her appearance. Surely, there aren’t that many JMS fans. Sorry.

Vertigo books consistently have solid writing and good art. I’d say that about a third of the books at DC prime are working with that combo. I acknowledge the factor of sheer numbers. Fine. But this cash cow momentum is a ruthless executioner.  Madame Xanadu is being unjustifiably sent to the guillotine.

V. and I feel like proud parents with the posting of today’s guest essay from our fellow fangirl, Jenn. She’s the brains behind Dirty Blonde & Nerdy, where she writes about her adventures in geek. Jenn was also one of our earliest readers, and it warmed our jaded little hearts to learn that Girls Gone Geek had helped guide her as a newbie in the often overwhelming world of comic-book reading. Seriously; we had a moment. (Me to V: “Dude, she’s like our Padawan!”) Anyway, we enjoyed the heck out of her essay on DC’s throwback strategy, and we think you will, too. Take it away, Jenn!

WHYYYYYY!!???? Oh. Right. Darkseid.

There have been quite a few shake-ups in the DC comicverse in recent years. It’s been a pretty intimidating time for anyone to follow, especially for someone just diving into the fun. We had the Crisis siblings: Identity, Infinite, and Final; Bruce Wayne is now sleuthing up to his inevitable return after his supposed death, the Justice League has a new Big Three, if one at all, with a table full of new faces, and the big to-do with Blackest Night led directly to Brightest Day. And, of course, there is the new Wonder Woman run/temporary costume. DC has had its hands buried deep in the cradle of its characters and titles, and the editorial powers have been stirring things around for a while.

Let me make it clear that I have absolutely no problem with that. At all. I love nothing more than when someone takes the plunge and dares to do something different, outside the box, and makes people mad or excited about the idea. It garners plenty of attention, a necessity in any entertainment business. But an “A” for effort doesn’t really count. Success doesn’t ride on the back of good intentions and certainly not on the shoulders of half-assed executions.

Before anyone gets fired up about their own concern (or thinks I’m here to spit fire on everything) let me narrow the playing field to one development in particular that has me wondering what exactly is going through the heads of the officials: DC’s regression to older heroes, the step backwards from the supposed legacy appeal. I don’t get it. A legacy doesn’t work backwards; it’s a namesake passed down to the one who earned the title. For example: Wally West became The Flash after Barry Allen. Bart Allen became Kid Flash after he grew up a bit and left the name Impulse behind. The names became mantels. Now they don’t mean anything because they’ve been revoked, rearranged, removed, whatever.

This problem doesn’t touch just The Flash’s so-called legacy, and it doesn’t stop merely with old guys coming back and retaking their titles. For some, the bigger issue is that a bunch of old white guys are coming back to retake their titles.

Ryan Choi, we hardly knew ye.

The Atom. Ok, Ray Palmer is back, so they discard the replacement Ryan Choi by killing him off, which apparently is the quick and easy way to write off a character (which is also very lame). But, oh crap, that means they killed the guy with a different ethnicity to make room for a white guy.

Boom. Now you’ve got racial issues.

I think that’s ridiculous. If DC wants to revert back to the older heroes, then yeah, it’s gonna look like a whitewash because those characters were created in a long-ago age. Was it an intentional slam against the racially diverse characters added over the past few years? I don’t think so. I hope not. Maybe I’m being far too optimistic in my pessimism, but that result only sprang from the decision they made.

Adding to the confusion, we have Dick Grayson under the cowl when we know Bruce is due back in a few months. I know, I know. Someone needs to be Batman while Bruce was gone. Gotham still needs Batman. Bruce couldn’t ever really be dead because no one else is really Batman. Here the legacy doesn’t work. It can’t work, and it never will work no matter how many times someone else temporarily has their face behind that mask. Those boots — among others like Wonder Woman and Superman — are just too big to be properly filled permanently.

I suppose “half-assed executions” is a little harsh, but this is a nice hole that the folks at DC wrote themselves into. How can one character have a legacy when others who have interacted with that character never age? Retcon the Failsafe? (I think that could be a comic itself.) Change who worked with whom back in the good ol’ days to make sure the aging problem doesn’t interfere? That’s great. They’re probably going to do it sooner or later anyway.

You just can’t please everyone. This fact has proven itself tenfold since I’ve been in the DC fandom. Not everyone is going to approach a new direction with grace and a sensible sense of judgment rather than instantaneous maniacal fan-frothing. But it’s kind of strange that the new faces of DC Universe are taking us backwards instead of moving forwards.

This brings us to Wonder Woman’s new costume, which you can see today in its full glory with the debut of issue #600. As this is being written, V. and I have yet to read new Wondy writer J. Michael Stracynzski’s first issue, so we can’t comment on the story. The outfit, redesigned by none other than Jim Lee, is another story.

Here’s what we like: The old-school top is fine, and the gloves are hot in an I-will-beat-you-down-in-an-alley kind of way.

What don’t we like? Let’s start with the boots, which pissed us off mightily. If you’re going to put Diana in black leggings, why not let her keep some version of her iconic, red kicks? As V. put it, it’s all about the fucking boots, and the mall footwear with golden frippery isn’t going to cut it. And we like biker chick chic as much as anyone, but the star-spangled blue jacket looks like a Black Canary ripoff. And a choker? No. Seriously, no.

Wonder Woman’s new clothes aren’t terrible or offensive; but they are disappointingly generic and dated. As one person wrote on the DCU blog: “Looks like she’s just changed for happy hour after work. In 1996.”

JMS outlines the ideas behind the costume redesign in an extensive interview with Comic Book Resources, but I’m not sure I buy them. For starters, why does a superhero costume have to be practical? In all my years of reading “Wonder Woman” comics — the good and the bad — I’ve never wondered how she fights “without all her parts popping out” or where she keeps her keys. It’s a suspension of disbelief thing. Couldn’t she just keep some recognizable version of her costume underneath contemporary street clothes, like Spider-Man?

It’s not that we’re anti-change, but we think an amazing heroine ought to have an amazing costume. Reboot or no, Wonder Woman is a classic who should be distinguishable from, say, Donna Troy. Paging Christian Siriano!

For those who voted for me to move on, thanks for trying. I’ve got some juicy stuff waiting for me. Now it’s taunting me. Perhaps that will get me through the 200 and some odd pages remaining.

For those who voted for me to finish, I am a woman of my word. I will do it, however begrudgingly.  Once I am done, I will also write about it honestly. So, if by some slim chance I end up liking this bullshit, I will tell you that I liked it. BUT if it continues to suck, my review will contain as many four letter words as possible.

I do know one thing, Crisis will be the last time I tolerate the uncreative, plot-devouring, manga-robot mothafucka that is the Anti-Monitor. Brightest Day, consider yourself dropped from the pull-list.

It’s time to go rip this band-aid off.

Cover art by Dan LuVisi

Secret Six #20 played out like a well-acted revenge thriller. Catman reminded me of Liam Neeson in Taken. Those baddies effed with the wrong guy! Still, I wish Cheshire had come along to help with the revenge portion of the show. Maybe Gail will bring her around later. Let’s hope.

On the whole, this issue was fast-paced and full of that shock factor these characters are known for, and it set the stage for a hell of a story arc. Thanks again, Gail, for reminding me why I buy monthly issues instead of waiting for the trade.

Secret Six is one of the best books on comic store shelves right now, so I’m puzzling over the 2010 Eisner Award nominations. Based on conversations with my geek posse and articles about the nominees, it seems that most of the nods were totally deserved. However, I have a bone to pick with the judges in a specific category — Best Writer. The five MEN nominated were Ed Brubaker, Geoff Johns, James Robinson, Mark Waid and Bill Willingham. My thoughts:

I haven’t read anything by Brubaker or Waid, so I can’t give an opinion. I’ve heard from several fanboys that Brubaker’s Captain America and Waid’s Irredeemable are excellent. OK. Fine.

Willingham rocks. I LOVE Fables, and I’ve lost hours of sleep because I couldn’t put the trades down. His work is consistent and intriguing, so this nomination makes perfect sense to me.

Johns? Meh. Insert Greg Rucka instead. Sure, Johns is a solid writer, but I’ve never loved his work. The Flash: Rebirth was a snore. Blackest Night was a good time, but I’d liken it to Avatar getting the award for best movie at the Golden Globes over Inglourious Basterds. Johns is just so … mainstream.

(Deep Sigh) At the risk of beating a dead horse, I have to say it: James fucking Robinson got an Eisner Award nomination for the steaming load that was Justice League: Cry For Justice! What. The. Hell?! I’ll spare you the bullet points of why it sucked (click here and here and here AND here if you must know). The bottom line is that Robinson doesn’t deserve it, at least, not for this comic.

There are other writers who are more worthy of a nomination —writers like, I dunno, Gail Simone for Secret Six. Duh. Her writing in this book has been unwaveringly good, and every issue makes me laugh out loud. Secret Six is pure, debauched entertainment, and I love it.

Robinson is up against some heavy hitters, so surely he can’t win. But Ms. Simone’s absence from the ballot is both a mystery and a damned shame.

I’m running out of ways to say how much this sucks. Rucka’s run on Wonder Woman was, in my opinion, second only to George Perez’s 1980s reboot — and a close one. Along with artist J.H. Williams III, he created a killer origin story for Batwoman via Detective Comics, which was easily one of the best stories I read last year. I was looking forward to their rumored reunion on a standalone Batwoman comic, and I was frankly crushed to learn that he wouldn’t be stepping in for Gail Simone once she departs Wonder Woman.

I know Rucka has his critics, and I’ve heard all the lame jokes about how he specializes in troubled lesbians. (No one ever jokes about Geoff Johns specializing in idealized white guys, but I digress.) To many a fangirl, he is one of a handful of writers who not only gets strong, female characters, but seems to genuinely like them. In a candid interview with Comics Alliance, Rucka shed some light an an issue that V. and I have talked about many times — people who either dislike Wonder Woman outright or don’t know what the hell to do with her: “A lot of the guys who have written her don’t like her; they just want to f–k her. … And people want to simplify her, so they go, ‘She’s Superman with tits.’ No, she’s not.”

As RuPaul would say, “Can I get an amen?”

I’ll leave it to others to speculate about the reasons behind Rucka’s departure, though he certainly has a lot of other cool projects on his plate. I’m willing to believe that the man simply has other stories he wants to tell, and that he’s looking for new challenges as a writer. But … but … but. While talking about the Batwoman stories he and Williams had hoped to do, Rucka said something that stopped me in my tracks: ” ‘Elegy’ was supposed to be four issues; there were supposed to be three issues that were ‘Go,’ and then there was a five-part story that Jim and I had, but because of a variety of things in-house at DC, we were moved out of Detective [Comics] and we couldn’t tell the story there.”

Seriously? He and Williams were moved off of Detective Comics, despite making it one of DC’s most buzzworthy books of 2009? What the hell?!

Anyone who reads comics for any length of time is going to be disappointed by something — a character dies, a beloved writer or artist moves on, an awesome book is cancelled. That’s life. But something about this announcement, on top of recent DC bombshells about Wonder Woman and Power Girl, put me in a seriously foul mood. Aside from Gail’s return to Birds of Prey, I can’t think of a single upcoming DC event that I’m genuinely excited about — and that makes me wonder whether it’s time to back away from the caped entertainment and start exploring more independent comics.

I’m tempted to say that I might be expecting too much, but my standard for comics is no higher than it is for any other form of entertainment. And thanks to dream teams like Rucka and Williams, among others, I know what comic books are truly capable of.

This is a big week for the Twilight franchise with the release of The Twilight Saga: New Moon DVD and Twilight: The Graphic Novel. I pre-ordered both, and I’ve been hitting up the UPS site regularly to track my packages. I was beyond thrilled on Wednesday when I saw that the graphic novel had been delivered. After a minor battle with my daughter over who was going to read it first, my wait was … almost over. I acquiesced once I realized I was being a bit of a brat. (HEY! Don’t judge me. Twilight is a hell of a drug.) Besides, her bedtime is way before mine. I knew I’d get to be alone with my precious soon enough. Volume 1 offers up the first half of the Twilight story. Here’s the good, the meh, and the ugly.

The Ugly
Worst speech bubbles ever! What the hell? They’re awkwardly placed on the page, and they’re so obnoxious-looking that they often overshadow the artwork. And isn’t the art the whole point of a graphic novel? This should have been called Twilight: The Graphic Novel with STUPID, UGLY, SPEECH BUBBLES. They even have these weird squiggly lines denoting who is speaking, but because of the bizarre placement, that didn’t help me make sense of things. All I got were ugly squiggly lines over the art I had paid to enjoy. Considering how much money this franchise has made, couldn’t the publisher have sprung for a letterer? Oh, how I have taken for the lettering for granted in my comic books. I had no idea how crucial it is to an illustrated medium’s authenticity and visual atmosphere. All hail the letterer! And fuck Yen Press for typing it up in Times New Roman and Monotype Corsiva. Cheap Basterds.

Edward, Bella, and dumb, ugly speech bubbles in biology class

The Meh
Though I read comics and graphic novels constantly, I’m not that familiar with Manga or the nuances of Manga style. So the entire time I’m reading the book, I’m thinking, “What the hell is that damn teardrop thing Bella’s always got on her face?” I now know that is used to show anxiety, embarrassment or insecurity. Let’s just say it was a permanent fixture.

Much of the background detail, with the exception of “The Meadow” (thank friggin’ goodness), is done in a photorealistic style. I’m not sure if this was just another example of Yen Press’ stinginess, or if the artist isn’t great at backgrounds. Twilight fans can be obsessive, so I can imagine someone — maybe author Stephanie Meyer herself, saying, “Let’s put a real image of Forks High School, and do some cel-shading. Those crazy Twihards will love that.” Whatever the reason, these panels left me lukewarm. Part of my huge excitement about this graphic novel stemmed from the potential for some beautiful, distinctive interpretations of scenes from the original book — not a damn gray-scale, shaded photo of a silver Volvo on a Washington highway. Perhaps I should learn to draw.

The Good (Spoilers ahead!)
No matter how many times I watch the Twilight movie, it just doesn’t give me the ultimate high of the book it’s based on. Where the movie fails, the graphic novel delivers. The graphic novel doesn’t have to pander to Hollywood and time limits. This adaptation maintains the integrity of the story, and I got ALL of my favorite quotes. I also got so see many scenes I had only imagined before: Bella contemplatively staring in the bathroom mirror, blood-typing in biology, cooking dinner for Charlie and dreaming about Edward. I got to see the lemonade bottle-top, Bella’s decisive meditation in the forest, the new-age hippie lady in the bookstore and the conversation in Edward’s Volvo on the way back from Port Angeles. It was a joy to see those scenes.

I also thought the characters were drawn very well. Kim did an excellent job of staying true to Meyer’s descriptions. There are some beautiful splash pages, and the Manga technique of speed lines works perfectly when Edward demonstrates his vampire prowess. The best part, by far, is the meadow scenery. Since Forks is this gloomy place with little to no sun, the entire book is gray-scaled. But once Bella and Edward climb the mountain and step into the meadow, the sun shines gloriously — in color. In fact, these are the only panels that are done in color, and it works. Of course, there’s a full color splash page of Edward as he steps into the sun and sparkles. It is quite perfect.

Verdict
I’d expected better quality overall, given the vast amounts of cash this series is raking in. The apparent corner-cutting gave me a twinge of disappointment. That aside, the book manages to convey all of the important aspects of the story, but not as intensely as the original book. My opinion is that the graphic novel is a better choice for young girls who are dying to read Twilight. Did I enjoy it? Yeah — but that was kind of inevitable.

Prometheus’ death was the only shining moment in Cry for Justice, which is one of the most sucktastic stories I’ve ever read, rivaled only by Chuck Dixon’s Birds of Prey run (and, OK, Trinity). There were times when I was so irritated that I just wanted to throw the book at the wall.

Case in point: In issue #5, Ollie shows up on the JLA satellite after having been gone for who knows how long chasing leads to find Prometheus. There is a moment between him and Dinah that made me want to claw my eyes out. She sort of pulls him aside and asks him where he’s been. He blows her off, and she gives a codependent monologue about how she’s lost faith in herself without his cheating, arrow-toting ass.

The panel doubles the cheese factor by showing a single tear running down Dinah’s face, followed by a wildly disrespectful retort from Green Arrow.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Look, I realize Dinah and Ollie are married, but that reaction was bullshit. I mean, after all the things Dinah has endured because of her relationship with this guy, she would hardly turn into a crybaby because he ran off with Hal Jordan for a spell. Portraying such an incredibly strong, capable character as “lost” without this man makes me throw up a little bit in my mouth. I am so over her being an accessory to Ollie.

DC, I sincerely hope that Green Arrow’s status as a true cad and, now, a murderer, opens the door for Dinah to walk right out of this demeaning relationship. Please let Gail write up the divorce papers. Thaw her out from her time in the freezer, and then justice will be served.

As we’ve seen in Secret Six, no one does amoral with Gail’s flair. Amoral characters are intriguing because they do the things our conscience and social mores prevent us from doing. We get to live our fantasies through them, and their writers aren’t limited by pesky issues like virtue. Plus, Shiva is a straight-up beast. She’s kicked more asses than you’ve read comics. She’s fast, ingenious, wicked, and not at all afraid to die. That final fact alone makes her a force to be reckoned with. I firmly believe that she could defeat Deathstroke (See previous poll). All Shiva needs is a two-second window, and he’s done for — genetic engineering be damned. Shiva would engineer a beatdown.

To drive the point home, here are some of my favorite Lady Shiva quotes:

“I believe in letting people do as they wish, as do I myself. Sometimes, of course, what I wish to do is kill them and they do not wish to die. This gives life interest.” – The Question #29

“I am not allowing you to pass out. I want your men to see you beg. Then you will apologize with a pain you will remember always.” – Birds of Prey #62

“All this ceremony, and the truth is: the body decays, the spirit is lost. It means nothing. Ashes or earth, I hardly see the significance of where they lay your corpse.” – Birds of Prey #68

“If you ever touch me again, I shall shatter three bones in your arm: the humerus, the radius, and the ulna. I shall shatter them in such a way that shards will protrude into the nerves, causing intense pain! I shall shatter them in such a way that no Western doctor will be able to repair them. Your arm will thereafter dangle from your shoulder like a dead fish. Do you understand?”

And my favorite:

“Perhaps death is just a little bit afraid of me.” – Birds of Prey #63

So, I’m riding the wave of Shiva-is-a-bad-ass-bitch, and as per usual, once she was out of Gail’s hands, someone added suckage to her repertoire. I realize this is part of the multiple-writers nature of comics. I’m not that bitter. But chocolate? As in, Robin (Tim Drake) defeats Shiva by sending her some drug-laced chocolate? Really? Bullshit!

I seriously doubt that a world-class mercenary/martial artist with so many enemies would even consider eating a piece of hotel chocolate. As E. pointed out, “She’s probably on a macrobiotic diet.” The poisoned chocolate was a flimsy attempt at strengthening Tim’s character, I guess because he and Shiva have a past. But honestly, who gives a fuck? This did a major disservice to Shiva’s character. Her sister was murdered, and her daughter broke her neck. Bottom line: Shiva should get more respect than that. As Black Canary put it, “In some countries, being killed by her brings eternal honor to your entire surviving family.”

With books coming back from the “dead” and all, we have The Question #37 written by Greg Rucka. Now, I almost love Rucka as much as I love Simone. He also understands the kick-ass chick. We’ll get to see my favorite DCU lesbian, Renee Montoya, a Black Lantern Vic Sage and (here’s the part that’s got me salivating) an appearance by Lady Shiva. She’s already got a past with Vic. Throw Montoya in the mix, and a few interesting worlds collide. Renee vs. Shiva? I’d like to see that mashup! Rucka had this to say, “[Shiva's] just entirely amoral and committed to her path. … She doesn’t care what you think, ever.” Color me blue, because THAT gives me hope.

There are certain qualities that I think need to be in place in order to have a healthy relationship. Enjoying each other’s company is pretty high up there, along with having similar moral values, common interests, and respect for each other. Physical attraction plays a minor part, too, but I think that without that foundation of things that actually matter, you’re basically asking for trouble, either now or at some point down the road.

So, why the hell was Wonder Woman dating Nemesis?!? Seriously, what did they see in each other?

Nemesis, I can get some of what’s going on in your head. Wonder Woman is probably the most beautiful woman in the DC Universe. That’s pretty cool, but beyond that, is there really anything that you have in common?

Wonder Woman was formed out of clay, given superhuman abilities by various Greek deities as birthday presents, and raised on an island of warrior women who specialize in kicking butt and being awesome on a daily basis. She’s a founding member of the Justice League of America and is probably the most fearsome warrior in existence (at least, in the DC Universe). She’s also one of the few members of an exclusive club named People Who Can Kill Superman in a Fight.

Let’s take a look at your personal history, bruh. You’ve been a member of the Suicide Squad and the Department of Metahuman Affairs and are, evidently, a master of disguise. I’m not sure of the entirety of your track record on secret missions and stuff, but from what I do know, your M.O. seems to be “guy who tends to be the sole survivor of missions that have failed spectacularly.”

What do you think the logical conclusion of this relationship would be? When Diana comes home from a long day of smashing in Titans’ faces or saving the solar system from a Controller-created biological weapon that treats the sun like a Taco Bell Beefy 5-Layer Burrito, what are you going to talk about? You aren’t equals at all. You’re not even within a quintillion light-years of “equal.” Doesn’t she deserve to be with someone who is an actual peer?

Now, dude, I’m not saying this out of jealousy or anything like that. I live on Earth Prime, so Wonder Woman is just a fictional character to me. Even if she weren’t, I would have even less in common with her than you do. Just sayin’, dog, I never saw this going anywhere. You were only wasting your time, and hers.

Blasphemy you say?  Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been deemed a heretic.  Why should this be any different?

I get a lot of flack for being a Twihard (yeah I said it!) from my fellow geeks. So do the millions of other fans of the series. I read blog after blog, article after article and hear endless podcasts about how much the geek world loathes the series and how it (and fans) didn’t belong at the cons. Frankly, I am over it.

The “Twilight” books are 2,000 pages of pure deliciousness. The story is overwhelmingly character-centric (*cough like comics cough*) with some fantastic players: Bella, the self-deprecating, clumsy teenage girl who is also an excellent student unaffected by peer pressure; Alice – the empathetic, fashionista, pre-cog vamp who can snap a neck before you can blink an eye; Emmett the uber likable, honest, football-loving vampire next door. Even the baddies are divinely designed. Aro, the 3,000-year-old maniacal but perfectly couth head of the Volturi can read every thought you’ve ever had with a touch. Can you say, “Gangsta?”

Then, there is Edward. Impeccably mannered, well dressed, infinitely intelligent, protective, and genuinely interested in the person that Bella is. Swoon (duh). And don’t give me that creepy stalker shit about Edward. Um, he is still a VAMPIRE. (And if you’re going to call him out, then why not bash Supes for watching Lois sleep? Even worse and much more blatant are the rape and other acts of violence against women that occur in “Watchmen” and “The League of Extraordinary Women,” written by our favorite misogynist Alan Moore. Just saying.)

Aside from the characters, the scenery is like butter for the imagination. The Pacific Northwest, Alaska, Italy, an island off the coast of South America. All these juicy bits swirled into an against-all-odds love story with super-powered vamps, Native American shape shifters, and a shit ton of hybrid lore. Zang, baby!!!

Besides, there are plenty of things about “Twilight” that qualify it as “Geek.”

Super Powers: These are powers that were either latent or subdued when they were human, but manifested themselves after a catalyst set off the transformation (vampire venom = genetic mutation), then powers manifested. Yeah, that is nothing like Marvel’s mutant powers that are latent until puberty, or the TV show “Heroes,” where the “fight or flight” adrenal response triggers the powers. The wolves begin phasing in New Moon…right after puberty due to vampires in the vicinity.

The God-Human Love Story: Supes and Lois. Diana and Steve. Black Adam and Adrianna.  Phoenix and Cyclops. Thor and Jane. Talia and Bruce. EDWARD and BELLA.

Outcast teens with a secret: Xavier’s school. Teen Titans. Runaways. Twilight.

Benevolent alien who wants to peacefully coexist with humans: Do I really even have to itemize this?

All of these elements have pleased superhero fans for years. So why wouldn’t the ladies enjoy it, too?  But more to the point, these are common threads.

Twihaters’ biggest gripe, though, is the revamping of classic vampire lore.  All they hear is “sparkle,” and their fucking brains go catatonic.  Then they move on to the default response of ridicule. To that I say, “Really? Can’t you be a little more flexible? Surely you are capable after dealing with decades of retcons.”

So what if Edward can go out in the sun? I’m pretty sure Blade was a daywalker. How is that more offensive than the constant retconning in comics? Remember last year’s big Final Crisis event, where Batman was “killed” by Darkseid’s Omega Beams, but then we saw him alive drawing on a cave wall (sometime in the past) over Anthro’s dead body? And somehow, Black Hand could raise his “corpse” for a hot second in Blackest Night #5 to elicit an emotional response out of the JLA players. I’m sure DC is going to tie it all together … or maybe they won’t, and they will retcon half of “Final Crisis” and use the rest. Now THAT is infuriating.

Stephenie Meyer brought fresh eyes to the vampire story. (And it’s not like she doesn’t give any explanation whatsoever, like some comic book editors I can think of.)  Meyer’s deviations are on the classic limitations of vampires: unconscious periods, sunlight, crosses, garlic, holy water, wooden stakes, etc. “These are all myths – deliberately placed in earlier centuries to mislead impressionable humans and make them feel safe.”  Seriously, that’s good stuff.  In a world ridden with paranoia-induced conspiracy theories, that concept — believing you’re safe when you’re really not — is real-world scary.

Since most of the naysayers haven’t actually read the series, they are unaware that much of the “Twilight” lore that they criticize is specific to the Cullens. Yes, they are benevolent vampires who feed on animal blood, but they are an anomaly in their world.  All the other vampires are evil, human-eating monsters. And jeez, the “Buffy”-loving geeks didn’t have a problem with Angel having a damn soul! I’d like to know what happened to “willful suspension of disbelief?”  After all, it’s just fiction, people!

Domestically, the “Twilight” movie franchise has grossed  $255 million and $500 million worldwide as of December 7.  This is only the third week of release. We still have two (maybe three) movies to go.  The Twilight saga is going down in Hollywood history as a force to be reckoned with among the ranks of “Batman,” “Star Wars,” “Harry Potter” and “The Lord of the Rings.” Period.

Get wise, guys. Twihards are a force to be reckoned with. We are geeks; we are smart; we have epic buying power — and we LOVE Edward.  His intensity, his etiquette and his devotion make our panties wet. You might learn a thing or two from him. I say get on board and get laid. If not, you are just going to have to suck up the sparkle. SUNSHINE!