Peter David's Blog, page 57

Mighty Marvel Misinformation and More

Originally published June 2, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1385

Assorted stuff…

Well, let’s see what’s in the news. Oh, look: In the May 9th issue of the Wall Street Journal, headlined, “Spider-Man Tries New Web Tricks,” there’s an interview with Marvel chief executive Peter Cuneo that’s causing a good deal of consternation among the fans. What most online fans have been reacting to is the reporting of the story in anotheruniverse.com, which states, “Marvel Enterprises will increasingly move into film and video games and away from comics, (Cuneo) told the Wall Street Journal.” This is resulting in a considerable amount of agitas for the fans.

Problem is: It’s not true.

Understand, I’m not privy to Marvel internal decisions. For all I know, that’s exactly what Marvel’s long term plan is. But you can’t discern that from the WSJ article, because the vast majority of the material does not consist of quotes from Cuneo, but rather commentary made by the writer, one Erin White.

Anotheruniverse correctly attributes some of the most discouraging comments to White, including, “Spider-Man’s only chance for survival is to leap right off the page” and “The simple paper medium of comic books just isn’t cutting it in the age of video’s flashy special-effects, explosive audio and interactive action.” But these do-or-die conclusions are solely White’s, and yet the fans are starting to blend it together so that—upon repetition—what’s being spread around is that Marvel is planning to abandon comics entirely.

The following comments are the only ones directly attributed to Marvel personnel:

“Comic-book sales are down and Marvel executives acknowledge that kids just don’t read them as much anymore.” That’s not exactly a shock. Marvel execs would have to be in heavy denial if they claimed that sales weren’t down. Then again, periodical sales have been dropping across the board, so there’s no reason to single out comics. Furthermore, perhaps sales aren’t down because of the “age of video,” but rather as a result of pea-brained distribution-level corporate decisions by those who shall go nameless (* koff * Ron Perelman * koff *) which helped to kill so many comic book retailers that sales couldn’t help but be affected. Indeed, Cuneo finally shows up in direct-quote form saying, “Our characters are more popular than ever. The challenge now is really up to us to execute and build value.”

Hmm. Nothing there about abandoning comics. Let’s see what else.

White says that the movies might “reignite interest in Marvel characters and lift sales of toy tie-ins, particularly among teens and preteen boys.” Perhaps. But there’s nothing to say that they couldn’t also have some impact on the comics as well. When we get back to Cuneo, he says, “All of the merchandising and promotional activities we’re doing with our characters are bound to have a tremendous impact.” Impact on what? The reporter doesn’t clarify. Impact on Marvel’s bottom line? On year-end profits? On the comic line itself? On the viability of the characters? Could be anything.

Cuneo is later mentioned (but not directly quoted) talking about revenue from movie and TV deals and cash-on-hand helping to finance an X-Men TV show.

The only other Marvel exec quoted is Bill Jemas, Marvel’s president of publishing. Does he talk about abandoning comics? No. He talks about the upcoming “Ground Zero” line which basically reconfigures more simplistic versions of the Marvel characters without affecting the mainline titles which Jemas claims, “If you’ve been reading these for forty years, you’re really enjoying this rich, complex storyline. But if you haven’t, you’re saying, ‘Who the heck are all these characters and why do I care about them?’” Not so much a rebooting as a rebutting.

Although, to be candid, I’m not sure what Jemas is talking about. My first Marvel Comic ever was the FF annual featuring the wedding of Reed and Sue. And my reaction was exactly what Jemas claimed was anathema for potential collectors: I had no idea who any of these guys were. Try to make heads or tails of that annual without being familiar with the FF, Avengers, X-Men, the Watcher, Doctor Doom, not to mention Stan and Jack. After a lot less than forty years, there was already enough backstory in place with that annual to sink a fleet of tuna boats. Did it put me off reading Marvel titles? No. Instead it pulled me into a universe that seemed endlessly layered and colorfully populated. Not to mention that “Ground Zero” is a dubious name for a new line. Oh yeah: If I was starting up a new imprint, I’d certainly want to name it after something associated with a bomb. That’s right up there with the marketing genius who though opening Star Trek: The Motion Picture on December 7th was a sharp move. “The biggest bombing since Pearl Harbor!” There’s nothing like making critics’ jobs that much easier.

The only other bit of information attributed to Cuneo is that he “expects licensing to grow to more than 50% of the cash flow, publishing to decline to 10% from 15%, and toys to decline to about 40%.” Still, that doesn’t translate to abandoning the publishing line; it’s just a comment on how lucrative toys are.

So it may be a bit premature to sound the alarms that fans are already sounding. Still, just so we don’t blow sunshine up anybody’s skirts: I still remember when a senior Marvel editor told me years ago that the difference between DC and Marvel was that DC comics existed simply to provide fodder for licensing, whereas Marvel was first and foremost a publisher. To do it any other way became the tail wagging the dog. That is clearly no longer the case. And if Marvel execs do get any bright ideas about diminishing the importance of the publishing line, well… since Marvel has tried (unsuccessfully) to model itself on Disney in the past, it might be instructive to point out that once upon a time, Disney seemed far more interested in concentrating on theme parks than its feature animation line. And Disney became a mere Peter Pan shadow of its former self. It was only when new management revitalized animation that Disney began its climb back to power. One forgets or neglects one’s roots at one’s own peril. Disney learned that. Let us hope that Marvel doesn’t have to be taught it.

* * *

And now, a new occasional feature: K-Lee’s Notebook. My daughter, Gwen, has a friend named Cayley (who for some reason prefers to spell her name K-Lee. Then again, Gwen has taken to spelling her name “Gwen!” a la Scott! Shaw, so I guess I shouldn’t say anything.) Anyway, K-Lee has taken to jotting down some of the more brilliant things her fellow high schoolers, in all seriousness, say. I think they present an interesting picture of the quality of today’s educational system. For instance:

Teacher: During the industrial revolution, children were paid a wage of a penny an hour.

Student: So after five hours, they’d only make, like, a quarter?

Teacher: Who can tell me what “monotheism” is?

Student: That’s the disease you get from kissing.

Student: Are alligators made out of leather?

More installments from K-Lee’s Notebook as the opportunity presents.

* * *

Am I the only person to think that if Ethan Hawke and Russell Crowe joined forces, with their last names they could make a fairly credible superhero team?

Speaking of Crowe, the best thing about the new film Gladiator is seeing Derek Jacobi back in a toga where he belongs, dammit. I, Claudius remains one of my favorite TV series, ever. Only drawback was that I kept waiting for his Gladiator character to limp or stammer. If only they’d gotten John Hurt to play another senator, the movie would have been complete.

Oddly, the only real problem I had with the film was something that turned out to have a basis in historical fact. (Spoiler warning here for those who haven’t seen the film.) I thought it a touch conveeeeenient that emperor Commodus was willing to take the risk of facing Maximus in the Coliseum. “How nuts would that be?” I wondered. Turned out that the movie didn’t come close to depicting how nuts he really was. The historical Commodus apparently decided he was Hercules, and fought in the Coliseum with some regularity. Then again, if my name was that close to a word for toilet, I’d probably have gone a little crazy myself.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)

 

Pittsburgh Comic Con 2000

Originally published May 26, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1384

Notes from the Pittsburgh Comic Con:

It has been ages since I’ve been to Pittsburgh. The program book states that it’s the first time I’ve attended a Pittsburgh Con, but that’s not quite true; I was there once before, years ago, attending a Great Eastern Con. It is daunting to think that—if one takes into account the concept that the comic industry has a reader turnover every four years or so—a couple of generations of comics readers have come and gone since I was last down there.

Speaking of new generations, I decide to bring eight year old Ariel along with me. Both of her older sisters, Shana and Gwen, were regular convention goers at an early age, but Shana started her con days back when dad was just a normal fan. Gwen and Ariel’s con experience, on the other hand, is always informed by their dad sitting behind a table signing autographs. They’ve never known a time when they couldn’t cruise a dealer’s room, find neat stuff, and proclaim, “Hi, we’re Peter David’s daughters… can you give us a break on the price?” Which, interestingly, works for them more often than being Peter David works for me.

(Yes, I know that’s an old comment, but there might be new readers. For old readers, here’s a new comment: Isn’t it interesting that on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” the network has no problem with hitting, stabbing, impaling, violence of any kind… but, according to one cast member, absolutely will not let Willow kiss Tara. Gotta draw the line somewhere. Now… in case that comment becomes moot by subsequent events (as did my Elian remark a couple weeks ago, written before his passport to Fantasyland was revoked by INS troopers), here’s a cute thing Ariel said: I was taking her to see the Mets play the Reds, and I said to her, “You know, it’s lucky we’re going to this game instead of yesterday’s game, because yesterday they lost to the Reds twelve-to-one.” And Ariel asked, “If they lost to them yesterday, why do they have to play them again today?” I didn’t have a really good reply. I guess it’s a guy thing. “Twelve runs? That all you got, wussy boys? Let’s try that again when we’re really paying attention! C’mon, bring it!”)

The fine folks at Dark Horse comics are sponsoring my appearance to help promote Spyboy. I’ll tell you, if a book isn’t a bestseller, authors are always quick to blame the promotions department. Can’t do that in this case: Dark Horse has, and continues, to push the hell outta this book, its faith unyielding. It seems to be having an impact since sales are starting to creep up as people find the book, artist Pop Mhan finds his artistic comfort level, and I find my stride. One of the more intriguing elements is that, from the very first, Pop started sticking these little anime/manga “Superdeformed” versions of the characters into the last page. They started proving so popular with the readers that I’ve begun working them into the body of the story itself, and I think it’s improving the book tenfold… an example of how listening to readers can sometimes help tremendously.

However, Dark Horse is not going to give me spending money for Ariel (obviously) and I’m not looking forward to her going into “Daddy, buy me this?” mode in the dealer’s room. Then I hit upon an idea. Ariel loves to draw. Loves it. So, since I’m going to be doing a lot of table time, I figure this is the ideal place for her to set up the equivalent of a kid’s lemonade stand. I tell her, “You’re going to earn your own money. You can do original sketches for people, and sell them at…” I think about it a moment and then say, “A dollar apiece. Let’s see if people will buy them for that. And that will be your spending money at the convention.”

So Ariel totes along her drawing kit and, once we’re there, sets up shop next to me. At first we write on her board, “Pictures, $1.” But when people take my photograph and then hand me a dollar, I realize clarification is in order. So I write for her on her chalkboard, “Original drawings by Ariel David, $1.” At first there’s a handwritten note added which says she’s saving up for Sailor Moon toys, but when Star Wars action figures catch her attention Ariel then decides to add, “Saving up for Toys.” And when people keep asking her what she likes to draw, she further adds, “Kitties a specialty.” (Except it comes out “Kitteis speacilty,” but hey, it’s cute.)

A number of people are charmed enough by it to come right up to her. Indeed, at several points she actually has her own line of people waiting. Other times, when business is slow, I manage to kick some her way. I don’t have a set signing limit, and some folks take serious advantage of this. In those instances, as I’m sitting there signing my entire run on Incredible Hulk, I’ll say with significance in my voice, “You know, while I’m sitting here cheerfully signing this huge stack of books without making any big deal about it, you might want to check out Ariel’s drawings since, y’know, you’re just standing there while I’m being a nice guy and not setting any signing limits…” They usually get the idea pretty quick and come up with a buck to get an original Ariel kitty cat. Some of the fans really get into it, asking her for kitties in space or kitties on skis (skis?) One guy asks for a drawing of the Hulk’s kitty. Ariel promptly takes her green marker and starts coloring in an oval in the lower left corner of the page. “Honey,” I say kiddingly, “I’d think the Hulk’s kitty might be bigger than that.” She looks at me witheringly and says, “That’s the kitty’s foot.” Sure enough, she then proceeds to draw the mother of all kitties, a gargantuan green one with fearsome face.

She takes in, to my astonishment, fifty bucks. She winds up buying so many Star Wars action figures that, when she’s tired of drawing at some points, she sits in the area behind me and stages the entire Phantom Menace, complete with humming the John Williams score.

* * *

I have to commend the Pittsburgh Convention people for producing a smoothly run, well organized convention that has something for everyone, including kid-oriented activities such as a Kid’s auction and a Las Vegas Night with money generated going to the Make A Wish foundation. They even handle with aplomb our small food crisis on Saturday, when they were supposed to bring around McDonald’s hamburgers for lunch to all the artists and folks signing away at tables. Ariel voices concerns about mustard. For some reason, New York seems to be the only state in the union in which fast food places don’t automatically slather mustard on burgers. If you love mustard, that’s fine. If you hate it, as Ariel and I do, it’s extremely inconvenient.

So the burgers are being distributed, and they miss our table. It takes half an hour to rustle up the guys handing out the burgers, and Ariel is ravenous. And what’s on them? Naturally: Mustard. Ariel bursts into tears, right there at the table. One of the fans asks if there’s anything he can do. I say, “Yeah. Go to the convention people and tell them to rustle up a runner to take this child over to the cafeteria (at the far end of convention center) and get her some lunch.” I’m not concerned about myself. I’m carrying enough excess body material to survive for several weeks, easily.

Within five minutes a con person has been produced and they’ve taken her for a hotdog. With, naturally, no mustard. I try to give them money for the expenditure, but they absolutely refuse to take it.

* * *

There’s a board at the registration area listing last minute cancellations and additions. And under media guests, there’s a new name: Ted Raimi.

I literally couldn’t believe I was seeing it. I read it a second and third time, and was still stunned.

You have to understand the significance of this. Any time I go to a convention, Ariel asks the same thing: “Is Joxur going to be there?” Ariel absolutely adores Joxur the Mighty, the comedy relief bumbler on Xena, Warrior Princess who is the world’s worst warrior, but thinks he’s the world’s greatest. Abbott and Costello? Robin Williams? The Rugrats? As far as Ariel is concerned, their comic antics pale next to Joxur the Mighty.

Played by Ted Raimi. Who usually sticks to the West Coast. Except he’s here.

And Ariel doesn’t know it.

I turn to Ariel and say, “Ariel, there’s someone here you’re going to want to meet.”

Without hesitation, she says, “Joxur?”

Instead of replying, I head her over to the celebrity autographing area and, sure enough, there he is. Always careful to distinguish actor from part, I say, “Ariel, this is Ted Raimi. He plays Joxur. Mr. Raimi… this is Ariel, your biggest fan.”

“Hi, Ariel,” he says.

She’s transfixed. She can’t move. She can’t speak. She’s not playing shy or anything… she literally can’t get a word out. She’s thrilled beyond imagining.

Raimi was apparently a very last minute addition. He doesn’t even have photos with him. Also there is Alexandra Tydings, the lovely actress who plays “Aphrodite” (unrecognizable at first without the copious blond wig she wears in the role.) She’s there as a substitution for another actress who couldn’t make it (hey, give me the goddess of love any day) and I suspect that she asked Raimi to come along to keep her company.

Since he has no pictures, we quickly scour the dealer’s room and come up with a Xena-themed issue of the Hollywood Reporter which has his picture on the cover. He signs it, “To Ariel, the true warrior princess.” She’s walking on air, and promptly starts singing Joxur’s theme song. Considering many Xena fans loathe the character, it must be nice for Raimi to receive such unabashed adoration.

* * *

There’s an African guy at the convention selling sculptures who says that he’s trying to help with AIDS awareness in South Africa (Zimbabwe, specifically.) I’m a little fuzzy on how he’s doing this; perhaps a portion of the statue sales is going for the cause. I’m not sure. In any event, he asks me to sign what appears to be some sort of a petition saying that I think AIDS should be fought in Zimbabwe. Figuring that it’s a good idea to fight AIDS pretty much anywhere, I sign it.

But then a coworker of his comes over to the Dark Horse table and says that they want to do some sort of video tape thing in which I talk about this cause. There’s fans wanting me to sign stuff, but these folks are quietly insistent that I “stand behind my signature.” And I’m starting to feel a little… I dunno… manipulated. So I leave the fans and go over to the sculpture table, and the African guy starts talking to me about AIDS in Zimbabwe, and how America should help. I point out that education can only go so far; that what’s taught has to be practiced. He says, “Well, there are cultural differences that slow things down…”

“Cultural differences!” I say. “African women are expected to mutilate their sexual organs so that they don’t enjoy sex! What kind of ‘cultural difference’ excuses a woman being made to cut off her own clitoris?”

His smile fades slightly. “Oh… you know about that.”

“And what about this whole thing with ‘dry sex’?” I continue. “Women are expected to take drugs and such that dry up vaginal secretions because men don’t like it. Between self-mutilation and ‘dry sex,’ these practices are causing tears in vaginal linings that only makes the spread of AIDS that much easier!”

His smile evaporates. “Oh… you know about that, too.” Rallying, he said, “So what do you think Americans can do to help?”

“What should we do to help? I’ll tell you what we should do. We should line up every African guy who thinks a woman cutting off her clitoris is a good idea, and slap him until he changes his mind. We say, ‘Oh, you’re in favor of women mutilating themselves? WAP!’”

The woman who is videotaping the whole thing is laughing so hard she’s fighting to keep the camera steady. “Thank you, that’s great!” she calls, and I promptly hotfoot it out of there.

Making friends on all continents, that’s me.

* * *

I’ll tell ya, independent creators are always handing me their comics at conventions, but it’s not often I get one like White Pride Comics #1. “Made in the Great State of Tennessee,” the series writer/artist, E.W. Pickett, is black. The reason I mention it is because the book is filled with staggeringly racist depictions of blacks (not to mention gays, Asians, and pretty much any other group you can think of.) The concept of the book is simple: It’s a comic produced by White Supremacists. It’s so in-your-face politically incorrect that it’s almost mind numbing. Sometimes less can be more, but Pickett’s out to be as subtle as a train wreck, and in that respect he succeeds beyond imagining. A lot of it is funny—damned funny, in fact—as soon as you manage to scrape your jaw off the floor, knowing that if the guy producing this comic were a WASP, he’d be a dead man. As it is, Pickett might not want to start reading any continued stories either.

The cover features a group of rednecks who make the Clampetts look like the Windsors, and we are informed thereon that in Tennessee, “Inbreeding t’aint only legal, it’s encouraged!” The featured cast includes Ms. Amerikkka, the White Lion, and Rastus—a thick-lipped black caricature so boneheaded that the only way to get his attention is by pointing and shouting, “Look, Rastus! White women!” There’s even a pull quote from Jim Valentino, stating, “(White Pride Comics) made us all laugh…” According to Pickett, it also made Diamond Comics laugh, as in, “Hey, Diamond, would you handle distribution of this comic?” To which the only response was resounding laughter.

Once upon a time, there were sixteen or so distributors out there. The most depressing aspect of the current system is that one distributor holds yea-or-nay control over what you can see in your local comic store. If Diamond doesn’t like it, you don’t get it. And in my opinion, interested parties should have the opportunity to see White Pride Comics if for no other reason than that occasional horrified laughter is good for the soul. If nothing else, you have to love a comic that features a tough talking set of ambulatory buttocks named “Bad Ass.”

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)

 

South Park: The Stick of Truth

Have you ever wanted to actually be in an episode of “South Park?”

Yeah, me neither.

But that’s exactly where I found myself in the thoroughly immersive and long awaited “Stick of Truth,” the video game whose release was actually the punchline of South Park’s three part Thanksgiving episode last year.



My God, what a fun game. I spent the better part of a week playing it through and it is totally entertaining.

At the beginning of the game you’re asked to design your character and you are then designated the “new kid” who has recently moved to South Park and has no memory of the reasons behind the move. You are quickly swept into Cartman’s fantasy army and designated “Sir Douchebag.” From that point on, you are pulled into an utterly demented story involving alien invaders, fighting underpants gnomes while your parents have sex in the background, Zombie Nazi cows, farting as a combat tactic, climbing up Mr. Slave’s ass, and defusing a bomb by performing an abortion (an endeavor which I initially screwed up and wound up nuking South Park.)

Various battles require intense strategizing, which I’m not used to, but fortunately Kathleen was right beside me telling me what moves to make, so that helped a lot. And whenever you embark on a quest, you have someone accompanying you, each with their own powers that can contribute to the battle.

If you are any kind of “South Park” fan then you should definitely pick this game up.

PAD

Getting by with a little help from his friends…

Originally published May 19, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1383

I think that there’s a perception among fans that comic creators tend to feud with one another. This is, of course, not true. You don’t hear about the hundreds of pros who get along fine with one another on a daily basis for the same reason you don’t hear about the thousands of commercial air flights that land safely every day. You just hear about the ones that crash and burn.

Not to sound too egocentric, but sometimes I think this column has contributed to that perception.

I’ve managed to hack off a number of people in the, what… ten years that I’ve been doing this? And because this is a published column, naturally those times of annoyance have happened in a most public fashion. I honked off all of Image in one shot. Todd McFarlane actually felt the need, because of BID, to challenge me to a public debate (after which he disappeared, never to be heard from again. What ever did happen to him? Is he still working? He just dropped off the face of the earth, it seems.) John Byrne said my column made him sick. Didn’t endear myself to Don Simpson. I teed off Kevin Smith and I never even said anything nasty about him. And let’s not even get started on… nah. Better not mention him. And it’s not even limited to pros. I managed to cheese off the committee of Comic Con International in San Diego years ago. Don’t know if they still are annoyed with me. Probably.

And I have to admit, doing this column for years has shortened my fuse, I think. Which is odd: You’d think I’d become calmer. Considering that people send me mail that consists of nothing but cut outs of female genitalia, you’d think I’d take stuff more in stride by now. Instead I find that I suffer fools (or at least those I perceive as such) less gladly than I used to. I admit, I find this a bit alarming. If that’s how I am now, geez… how testy am I going to be ten, fifteen years from now. Granted, I did help organize and fund Pro/Con, the convention created for the purpose of getting pros together so they could spend quality time with one another. But by and large, I think I’m perceived as the king of feuds.

You know what this column needs? More love.

I’m now going to list, off the top of my head, people who I’ve got no problem with, in no particular order:

Kurt Busiek: I envy the hell out of Kurt, because not only is he exceedingly knowledgeable on all manner of arcane comic knowledge, but he has an uncanny ability not to offend people. I let sarcasm get through more than I should, particularly with people who have gone to great lengths to annoy me (all the while claiming, of course, that they have done nothing to warrant being treated exactly as they have treated me.) But nothing ever seems to faze Kurt.

Paul Dini: I’ve had a number of fans tell me they think I should write the next Batman movie. And my response is always the same: No. Paul Dini should. Every time you do to a Dini-attended convention, you’re guaranteed some absolutely classic panels.

Dan Jurgens: A month or so ago, I took issue with comments that Dan made in regards to Aquaman. The result was a very nice e-mail from Dan in which he made it clear that he had not intended at all to upset me and felt badly about having done so. Gotta say, he handled it with a lot more class and style than I would have if the situation were reversed.

Robin Riggs: Robin is the only inker I work with (on Supergirl, in this case) who routinely sends me art pages out of the selection that he gets back. Although I do take a bit of issue with his sense of timing.

You see, I was at the I-Con convention, and Robin’s wife, Elayne, was speaking on her cell phone. I didn’t realize she was on the cell phone because she was in profile and had the phone to the ear that was away from me. I was sitting at the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund table and she was next door at Friends of Lulu, and I wanted to tell her something amusing I’d just heard. So I started speaking to her.

“Not now,” she said.

Still not getting it, I asked a bit petulantly, “Why not?”

She half-turned her head so that I saw the phone and said to me, “I’m on the phone and I’m not paying attention to you and can’t hear you.”

Now feeling challenged, I said, “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t,” she replied.

“Aha!” I cried triumphantly.

Elayne blinked a moment, then realized that in telling me she couldn’t hear me, naturally she’d just proven that she could. She moaned, but kept on talking. I, in the meantime, was chortling dementedly, insanely pleased with myself. Moments later when she was off the phone, Kathleen happened by, and I decided to tell her about my dazzling bit of cleverness. “Elayne, lend me your phone,” I said. She handed it over. I held the phone to my ear and said, “Elayne was talking on the phone like th—”

At which point the phone rang.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever had a cell phone ringing right against your ear, but if you haven’t, I can recommend it as enthusiastically as I would recommend chewing on aluminum foil if you have silver fillings in your teeth.

It was like having my left eardrum blasted out the right side of my head. I dropped faster than Microsoft stock. My head still vibrating, I shoved the phone back to Elayne, who now got to be the one chortling wildly in triumph. She opened the phone and, guess what. It was hubby Robin, whom she promptly congratulated on his magnificent timing.

Hmph. Timing didn’t seem so great to me.

Louise Simonson: I think Weezie is really sweet, although it might just be that she’s afraid of me. I wrote a column that shredded Rob Liefeld because Rob took potshots at Weezie. Weezie called me after the column saw print and said, in that slightly breathless way she has, “Wow! I hope I never get you mad at me!” So maybe she actually plots my demise, but does so quietly so as not to garner my wrath.

Karl Kesel: Of all the writers I interact with as a result of Young Justice, Karl—the steward of Superboy—is the most aggressive in working with me to have events in the two books dovetail. In the Byzantine machinations called Sins of Youth, the Superboy/YJ storylines meshed the most seamlessly, and that was largely Karl’s doing.

Mark Waid: ’Cause he’s dating Devin Grayson, which naturally makes him cool.

Jo Duffy: Who doesn’t get nearly enough work in the comic industry. Has everyone forgotten her great work on Power Man/Iron Fist? Punisher? Catwoman? Why is she not doing three books a month?

Neil Gaiman: A brilliant writer who has done me several personal favors (and I still live in fear of what he’ll ask in return) and who also does devastatingly hilarious impressions of Todd McFarlane.

George Perez: My single favorite artistic collaborator, bar none.

Harlan Ellison: One of the great ones.

Stan Lee: Another one of the great ones.

And that’s just off the top of my head. A slew of people working regularly in the comics industry with which I have no trouble at all.

Now if only they weren’t all plotting against me…

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)

 

I’m in a Story Bundle

As an experiment in getting involved in new and exciting ways of making my books available, I am participating for three weeks as part of a story bundle. I have some VERY impressive co-authors in this endeavor, including Neil Gaiman and Kevin Anderson. For those unfamiliar with the bundling concept, you can get a whole bunch of top books for whatever amount of money you want to spend. Check it out, help support a group of authors and get a great buy. Check it out here:

Storybundle

PAD

Post-Oscars (Year 2000)

Originally published April 14, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1378

In honor of the Oscars just past, a special Oscar-oriented “But I Digress”…

Prediction: X-Men will not be up next year for Best Picture. Haven’t seen the film. Haven’t read a script. Saw the trailer, looked interesting. Have no idea what the competition might be. And yet I’ll go out on a limb and say that it will be not make the cut for Best Picture because, gosh darn it… if Blade didn’t manage it, then really, what’s the point?

* * *

Andy Kaufman had it all planned out. What was going to happen was this:

Jim Carrey was seen as an absolute lock for a Best Actor nomination for Man on the Moon. Carrey even speculated that he wished Kaufman would actually walk out on stage and snatch any awards out of his, Carrey’s grasp. Kaufman, having seamlessly faked his death years ago, was more than ready to accommodate Carrey’s wish. It was his intention to wait until Carrey won. There would be Jim Carrey, on stage in front of millions of people, accepting the award, and saying, “This award is really for Andy.” At that point, Kaufman would walk out, take the statuette from the dumbfounded Carrey and—in front of a stunned audience—would say, “Tenk you veddy much.” The place goes nuts and it becomes the top moment in Oscar history, vaulting past the streaker behind David Niven or Ms. Littlefeather, the Native American who accepted on behalf of Marlon Brando.

(You know I have to admit, I’m getting more and more confused by the politically correct terms assigned to nationalities. I know they’re supposed to be more accurate… but they’re actually less so. Native American? Isn’t a native someone who was born there? I was born here. Then there’s terms having to do with ancestry. People whose forebears were brought to this country from African centuries ago are “African Americans.” My mother was born in Israel (at the time “Occupied Palestine”) which is on the continent of Asia. Therefore by that logic, I—a white Jewish guy—can accurately refer to myself as a Native American or an Asian American. Not to sound too much like Rodney King, but… can’t we all just be Americans, for crying out loud? People fought and died for the right to be called Americans. Shouldn’t we be honoring that accomplishment instead of attaching tons of prefixes as if the word “American” isn’t good enough? But I digress…)

Just to make sure he was on hand, Andy even got himself a job working for the Motion Picture Academy. He took a job in shipping and receiving (under an assumed name, of course.)

And then, a sinister fate torpedoed Andy’s plan. Once again, in a dazzling repeat of his unfair snubbing for The Truman Show, Jim Carrey was brushed aside again. This totally mucked up Andy Kaufman’s carefully constructed scheme for his return. Well, you know what? Nobody, but nobody, interferes with Andy Kaufman’s plans without paying the price.

The first thing Kaufman did was making sure that thousands of ballots went away. His next stunt was even more impressive: In casual conversation, he dropped subtle hints to a couple of Roadway workers that, gee, wouldn’t swiping the actual Oscar trophies be a way cool idea? They’d probably be worth a ton of money. He didn’t actually tell them to, nor did he mastermind any sort of theft. He simply made a few, broadly worded comments. So broad, in fact, that the truckers didn’t realize he’d planted the idea. Next thing you knew, they were gone.

The truckers were nailed, of course, but as of this writing, three of the statuettes are still M.I.A. They actually won’t be all that difficult to find. One is for Best Actor, the second is for Best Director, and the third is for Best Script. And they are all sitting in Andy Kaufman’s apartment, where he is laughing softly to himself and making plans for how best to further muck with people’s minds.

Presented for your inspection: A legend that will not die, making acceptance speeches…in the Twilight Zone.

* * *

People continue to cite the violent images of movies as inspiring real-life violence. So why is it that, if the graphic war and meticulously depicted death of Saving Private Ryan causes people to feel violent, that Shakespeare in Love is not credited with mass outbursts of poetry and romance?

* * *

The advent of the Rocky and Bullwinkle movie this summer has inspired a line of plush toys at CVS Drugstores. They come in three sizes, and they are absolutely magnificent. These include: Rocky and Bullwinkle (including a taller Bullwinkle dressed as “Mr. Know-it-All,” complete with book); Boris and Natasha and Fearless Leader; Dudley Do-Right, Dudley’s horse, Snidely Whiplash, and Nell Fenwick; Mr. Peabody and his boy, Sherman; and the little wand-wielding fairy from “Fractured Fairytales.” I’m not sure how or why this happened, but between this set and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer toys, CVS has become the premiere source of quality plush toys from homeless animation (“homeless” meaning animation unserviced by a line of dedicated studio outlet stores.)

* * *

Wouldn’t it be cool if Billy Crystal’s middle name was “Dilithium?”

* * *

All this hollering about the language in “Blame Canada.” Has everyone forgotten about the performing of “Mean Green Mother from Outer Space” from Little Shop of Horrors? That song had far more instances of raunchy language than the two “naughty words” from South Park. Granted, there’s irony considering the film was about censorship and free speech, but the song itself was about how censorship is a good thing. So somehow it makes a weird kind of sense.

* * *

Inspired by The Cider House Rules, we give you…

The Spider House Rules:

1)               No smoking during any battles with supervillains. No smoking, even if you’re Nick Fury or J. Jonah Jameson, because eight year olds might be inclined to light up stogies.

2)               Do not suffer a wife to live, unless she is also a superhero.

3)               Eight shall be the number of the last issue, and the last issue number shall be eight.

4)               Herb who?

5)               No eating lunch on the roof. Or in the Negative Zone.

6)               No clones.

7)               No installation of a revolving door on the offices of top management, since that will be considered to be too obvious a gag.

8)               No depiction of swastikas

9)               Accessorizing is your friend. There is no costume or superhero uniform that cannot be improved upon by the addition of a black leather jacket, cinched at the waist.

10)           If a hero has, through inattentive handling become one-dimensional, make him a one-dimensional villain.

11)           If a villain has, through skilled writing, become multi-dimensional or heroic, make him a one-dimensional villain.

12)           Stan Who?

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705. He fully acknowledges that there is no more boring show on TV than the Oscars. He also watches it every year in its entirety and wouldn’t miss it.)

 

Okay, here we go

First Caroline will be commenting on the fashions and then Peter takes over at 8:30. All this after the jump:

7:11–She’s wearing a dress that looks like it’s made of ice.

7:20–Kerry Washington’s dress looks like pieces of cloth clipped together with a jewel.

7:52–Love Jamie Foxx’s daughter’s dress. Very flowing. Complements her waist.

7:55–There’s a lot of glitter tonight. Hermoine looks great!

8:16–Sandra Bullock’s dress reminds me of a video game called Star Girl.

8:30–Okay, here we go. Ellen looking nice in a tux. Please, no Woody Allen jokes.

8:32–I love that the woman from “Nebraska” was one of the strippers in “Gypsy.”

8:35–Yeah, but Meryl usually doesn’t win.

8:39–”Possibility number 2, you’re all racist.” THAT was good. And stings slightly since I’m rooting for “Gravity.” “12 Years” was wonderful but watching “Gravity” was like seeing nothing I’ve ever seen before. It was purest movie making.

8:42–Jared Leto. Knew it.

8:44–If this speech were being given later in the evening they’d have played him off a minute and a half ago.

8:47–I still can’t believe Carrey wasn’t nominated for either “The Truman Show” or “Man on the Moon.”

8:51–They should have Steve Carrell in his full Gru outfit come out and dance along.

9:00–Kath thinks Dallas Buyer’s Club

9:00- And she was right.

9:12–Kath predicted Mr. Hublot as well, although Caroline was pulling for “Get a Horse.”

9:14–We’re pulling for Frozen, obviously.

9:15–Oh thank God. Now winter can end.

9:17–Sally Field, we still really like you.

9:21–Gravity has to win.

9:21–Bingo. No way Gravity doesn’t win.

9:28–Did everyone see that bizarre Muppets commercial? Kath said she knew half the puppeteers in it.

9:39–Please, seriously–stop singing.

9:43–Ever since I’ve started seeing the “Maleficent” ads, Angelina Jolie scares the crap out of me.

9:51–I remember the days when they used to run a scene from a nominated movie instead of just edited down trailers.

9:58–That song is apparently the main competition for “Let it Go.”

10:06–Wow, Chris Hemsworth is way less beefed up than when he was Thor.

10:07–Gravity may well win every technical award there is.

10:09–See?

10:11–I’m hoping for Jennifer because I want to see if she’ll fall again. But it should really be the 12 years a Slave actress.

10:14–Excellent.

10:17–What a great speech.

10:17–Damn, I thought they were about to bring out Gene Wilder because of the music they were playing.

10:22–I ordered in pizza once at a Chicago Comic Con when I had a panel at noon. It was much appreciated.

10:25–Now those are two actors I’d love to see in a film together: Amy Adams and Bill Murray.

10:27–Great shout out to Ramis.

10:27–Of course it’s Gravity. As I said, every tech award.

10:30–Another tech award. Who’s going to win, I wonder.

10:30–Oh my God, I did NOT see that coming.

10:34–So lemme get this straight: They have Liza right there and Rainbow is being sung by Pink?!? That makes sense.

10:44–Oh my God. How did THAT happen?

10:46–Wow, first Thor, then Captain America. I wonder if Iron Man is showing up?

10:48–There were a LOT of shots from “Man of Steel” in there, and none of Chris Reeve. That’s annoying.

10:53–Is this dead people? Yup. I wonder if Sarah Jones will be there.

10:58–Would someone tell me why Bette wasn’t singing this during the presentation? I’m not trying to be a dick about this, but that’s just odd.

11:02–The hell?!? Sarah’s name was stuck in at the end as if they forgot and shoved it in at the last minute! THAT was weird.

11:06–I dunno if she just had a lot of plastic surgery or if she’s simply aged well, but Goldie Hawn looks great.

11:13–Well, she had NO reason to be nervous. Idina just belted that one out of the park.

11:13–Hey, music from “How to Train Your Dragon.” That was nice.

11:13–Oh, that’d be nice. “Saving Mr. Banks” had a great score.

11:14–But of course, Gravity again.

11:15–I’m figuring this will go until at least what? 11:45? Midnight?

11:16–YES! And little girls all over the country cheer.

11:23–Great. 11:23 at night and now I want pizza. Damn you, Ellen.

11:24–12 years of course

11:25–Yeah, that wasn’t hard to predict.

11:26–Is Gravity up for this? No! Apparently not.

11:34–I knew it. I just KNEW it.

11:42–Gotta be Sandra. Gotta be.

11:44–SON OF A BITCH!

11:48–Yay, she didn’t trip.

11:49–I’d love it if Dern won. He won’t, but the speech would be worth it.

11:51–I’ll be damned. I thought sure the guy from 12 Years had it wrapped up.

11:55–Cool! Will’s doing best picture!

11:57–SERIOUSLY? Gravity wins almost every technical award and best director and “12 Years a Slave” is the best picture? Jesus. I mean, there’s no denying it’s an incredible movie, but in terms of pure filmic experience “Gravity” is simply better.

Oscars 2014

Here I will be live blogging the Oscars.

Caroline will be critiquing the pre show and fashions.

Learn How to Write

On March 8th I will be doing an online live course on how to write through Andy Zack’s Comics Experience. We’ll be discussing everything from creating characters to plotting. Here’s where you go to sign up.

Seminar link

PAD of La Mancha

Originally published May 12, 2000, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1382

I keep seeing these ads for “The Gap,” with all these jeans-clad actors performing numbers from West Side Story such as “America” and “Cool.” The downside is that I’m still not remotely interested in shopping at the Gap. The upside is that I’m now really eager to see a Broadway revival of West Side Story, perhaps choreographed by whoever is doing the commercials. If they ever decide to mount such a production, I’m there with money in hand. Of course, if they want to make it timely, they could change the gang from Puerto Ricans to Cubans. You’d have to do some lyric tweaks (“I like the city Havana!” “That’s the place from which we ran-ah!”) but it could be done. (Me, I still think time is on the government’s side on that whole Elian matter. Bottom line, the kid can’t stay cooped up forever. If the INS really wants him, they just have to wait it out. If nothing else, they can nab him when he heads out to his senior prom.)

In any event, speaking of Broadway musicals (he said by way of clumsy segue), for those who by bizarre happenstance might be interested into the only hobby I’ve got—community theater—you’ll be interested to know that I’m in a production of Man of La Mancha on Long Island in May.

Yes, that’s right—I’m doing an unabashed plug here. Most anyone I talk to who has seen the show, either in its original incarnation (with Richard Kiley), the revival (with Raul Julia) or practically any decent regional production (not to mention the shortened Quantum Leap version with Scott Bakula acquitting himself well performing “The Impossible Dream”), immediately places it among their top ten favorite musicals of all time. Not bad for a show that originally had trouble getting any backers because it was felt it was too cerebral, too philosophical, and just plain inaccessible to audiences.

For those of you who don’t know, Man of La Mancha is a musical adaptation (a very loose one) of the adventures of Don Quixote, the demented “knight errant” who—along with Sherlock Holmes and Winnie-the-Pooh, is one of the few literary figures instantly recognizable in silhouette. For those of you who do know and appreciate type casting, you’ll correctly guess that I was cast as Quixote’s intrepid sidekick, Sancho Panza. I’ve included some recent publicity photos taken, including Joe Morris (a versatile Long Island actor who, in “real life,” is a dentist) as Quixote and the supremely talented Phyllis March in what is probably Broadway’s most grueling female leading role, Aldonza the kitchen trollop.

Come on out and watch me get slammed to the floor within sixty seconds of making my first entrance, and thrown about repeatedly throughout the rest of the show. From rehearsal alone, I’ve got bruises from here, to…

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., PO Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)

 Quixote (Joe Morris) and Sancho (some fat guy) surrounded by Gypsies and Moors.

 Don Quixote (Joe Morris) and Sancho (some fat guy) riding their trusty steeds (one of whom bears a sneaking resemblance to Eeyore) on the road to adventure.