Michael Deeley has been reading comics since he was 12 years old. His first book was an issue of Silver Surfer by Jim Starlin, leading him to see all comics as ideological conflicts with big-ass fight scenes. At the very least, he expects a comic to be entertaining in some fashion, which is why he thinks Secret Wars II is better than Dark Knight Strikes Back. He has never work in the comics field, but he does have a belligerent attitude and a lot of free time.
During his brief intervals in the real world, Michael looks for a paying job that should, (theoretically) lead to a better life involving more comics, privacy, and women.
He currently lives between Pittsburgh, PA, and the Pittsburgh International Airport, in a suburb so new, it only has one McDonalds.
“And therefore since I cannot prove a lover To entertain these fair spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.”
- Richard III
This week, I’ll talk about last week. My harshly negative review of the TV series “Smallville” provoked a greater and stronger reaction than any other column I wrote. At least I know you’re reading.
First, I want to apologize for using “fuck” so much at the end of my article. That was unprofessional and obscene. I let my anger cloud my judgment.
Second, some have taken my comment about Lana Lang being played by an Asian-American as racist. Again, in my anger, I lashed out at everything. I do not object to an Asian, nor any non-white person, portraying a character that had previously always been portrayed as/played by a white person. However, I do believe, perhaps cynically, that the show’s producers deliberately cast non-white actors in prominent roles to create a more diverse cast. Again, I have no problem with that. Lord knows, primetime TV could use more ethnic variety.
I was also in error about the nature and origins of the mysterious ring of stones and Clark’s scar. They were introduced and explained in the previous season. Of course, I hadn’t seen the last season, and the quick recap at the episode’s start didn’t go into much detail. I do find it ironic that a TV series not directly based on a comic suffers from a common problem of comics: Too much continuity, too little explanation.
Finally, the reason why “Smallville” angered me in the first place was that I always approached the show as a comic book adaptation. After reading your e-mails, and reconsidering the show, I now realize that it is a drama using characters and themes from the Superman comics to tell a story. “Smallville” is a story about people.
And I hate people.
In case you haven’t gathered from my past columns, I don’t have a life. I do not have friends, I do not “hang out” with other people, I don’t even go to chat rooms. I used to have conversations at the phone bank earlier this year, but after leaving, I haven’t been in touch with any of my former co-workers. (I send e-mails to one who moved away, but she rarely responds.) I spend most of my days at home with my brother who won’t talk to me. We don’t get along so great. Since I work nights, I only see my father on weekends, and even then we don’t have conversations. He tells me things I need to know and I just agree until he stops.
My life, such as it is, consists of comic books, and occasionally videogames and movies. My sheltered childhood increased my fear of people until I found myself feeling disconnected from the human race. I have no interest in what other people think or do. I do not feel like a member of a larger nation, nor group, nor even a community. I only want as much feedback from this column to 1) Confirm I’m being read, thus feeding my ego, and 2) Obtain specific information for my work. In short, my life is empty because it does not involve other people. And it does not involve other people because I do not involve myself with other people.
For this reason, I do not find dramas entertaining. I have tried to watch popular TV dramas in the past, like “ER”. They all seemed to be about the problems and lives of fictional characters who were not dissimilar to real people. They were like real life, with all the boring stuff cut out so you’d just see the exciting, emotional moments.
Bored me to tears. If I wanted to see people with problems, I’d get a life. But I don’t get a life because that involves other people and getting involved with other people leaves you vulnerable. I’ve yet to experience any of the benefits of friendship or love, because I’ve never really given of myself to anyone. Life is, from what I’ve gathered, a long process of adapting to society, acquiring the skills and knowledge necessary to work with other people. It is impossible to succeed without the help of others.
And I resent that. I resent needing other people. I consider that a weakness. But it’s a weakness everyone has, making me more like everyone else. So I distance myself from others to be different. My misanthropy becomes my identity. I am The Michael, He Who is Not You. But I cannot define myself entirely by what I hate; by what I’m not. I have to support something.
So I seek out unpopular things, things that are ignored by the public at large. And if I happen upon something that turns out to have a broad appeal, I chalk it up to humankind’s occasional moments of brilliance. “Well what do you know”, I think, “I guess some people do have good taste.” To justify my isolation, I tell myself I’m better than everyone else. I don’t need to prove it. By what standard would I be judged? The same standard as everyone else? They are inferior beings, their values warped and biased. Would you judge a god the same way you judge a man? That’s what I really want to be: divine. I want to be all-powerful and all-knowing. To be able to affect the world however I want, while being immune to any and all forces against me. To avoid the consequences of my far-reaching actions. I want to have God’s power, but none of His responsibility.
I need to grow the hell up. Adaptation and compromise are not surrender. I can live with other people and still be an individual. Other people can make me feel better about myself. But it is one thing to know and another to feel. The beliefs and behaviors of a lifetime are not easily forgotten nor changed. But I will change. I have to. By the end of this year, I will have found another job and moved into my own home. My happiness, my very survival, as an adult, depends on my ability to work and live with other human beings.
I am not optimistic.
Since my life is devoid of people and any meaningful relationships, nearly all of my attentions and passions are focused on comic books. In the past, I’ve treated comics as my religion. Indeed, I do wish real life could be as exciting, direct, and easy to understand as a comic book. But it’s not. The sooner I believe that the easier my life becomes. And my attitude does affect my choice of comic to read, as well as my opinions about them. Take this week’s new books:
Thanos #1
Jim Starlin writes and pencils this new monthly series starring the former villain. Thanos looks back on his life spent on conquest and power, and finds he was never happy. Thanos decides to change his life by serving instead of conquering. This decision awakens something dark and hidden in the universe.
Thanos was one of the first villains I ever saw, and remains one of my favorite characters of all time. In Starlin’s hands, Thanos becomes more than just another cosmic despot. He is a complicated character, driven by desires dark yet human. His reformation has been gradual, but natural. This new series is the next logic step for the character, following events in ‘Infinity Gauntlet’, ‘Infinity Abyss’, and ‘Marvel Universe: The End’. This is a solid first issue with great art from Starlin and Al Milgrom. I give it .
I can relate to Thanos. Raised in the paradise on Titan, Thanos was never accepted by his own people. As they pushed him away, he grew more isolated. He found love in death’s arms. For her, he attacked and killed many of his fellow Titans, including his mother. Thanos has been a soldier, a conqueror, a manipulator, and even a god. He’s held the greatest power in the universe and defeated every foe he’s faced. But it was all for naught. He’s never found fulfillment. He’s never been truly happy. Finally, after literally doing and having it all, he’s decided it is he who must change. True peace does not come from obtaining what you desire, nor destroying what you hate. It comes from within.
I face the same choice. I must change my attitude, my outlook on life, or doom myself to an endless cycle of anger that will ultimately destroy me. I must grow up or stagnate and die.
Ultimate Six #2
Dr. Octopus is effectively portrayed as a vicious bastard who’s a little crazy to boot. The five villains escape with Norman leading them to their sixth member: Peter Parker.
To be honest, I always liked villains more than heroes. They don’t carry any guilt about dead family members. They don’t feel any responsibility to society or the “greater good”. They do what they want, take what they want, and get it on with hot sluts! (Seriously, you ever see the tail hanging off some of those villains?) Yeah, they get beaten up by heroes and taken to jail. But they always get out. And the smart ones know how to stay out of prison.
So if I had superpowers, I’m getting revenge on everyone that pissed me off and wrecking Los Angeles. Why? Because 90% of the crap on TV and in movies pisses me off! I’d be petty, selfish, and greedy until some jerk in a mask kicks my ass, if I’m lucky. If there weren’t any superheroes, I’d probably get shot by a SWAT team. Ah well, better to be king for a day, than schmuck for a lifetime.
‘Ultimate Six’ gets . And if I do get superpowers, stay out of L.A.
Alias #27 -
The Purple Man messes with Jessica’s and the readers’ heads by describing everything as a comic book script. Does he know he’s not real? Does Jessica? Post-modern head trip! The next day, Jessica sees the Purple Man’s escaped. With his powers, she can’t be sure if he’s manipulating her friends or not. Finally, she goes to Scott Lang. And something terrible happens.
I recently re-read ‘Alias’ #1-#10. I’ve figured out why I like this series. Jessica is an extraordinary person trying to live an ordinary life. But you’re not allowed to do that in superhero comics! People with powers are either heroes or villains, or work for secret organizations that exploit the powered. Super-beings just don’t “quit”. It’s like throwing away a million-dollar lotto ticket.
Jessica didn’t want to go through anything as terrible as her time with Purple Man again. She feels she wasn’t good enough to be a hero. This brings on her self-loathing. This also makes her a target for regular people’s jealousy and resentment of super-heroes which gives her a confrontational personality. She knows she can’t be noble enough to inspire other people, and she doesn’t care. She doesn’t like people anyway. The character of Jessica Jones is defined by anger and self-hatred.
So am I. As much as I distance myself from other people, I am still a human being, and thus a social creature. I’m lonely. Yet I hate being around other people. I want people to like me, but I don’t want to like other people. So I push people away and wonder why no one likes me. I think I’m not handsome enough or rich enough or just not “likeable”. So I hate myself for my imagined flaws then hate other people for making me judge myself by their standards.
This is why I got tired of Spider-Man’s whining. Guy’s living with a supermodel, working a semi-steady job, and he still worries about how badly his life’s screwed up. Man, I WISH I was Spider-Man! Nothing’s more frustrating than seeing someone who has it so good whine about how he’s got it so bad.
Anyway, Jessica is defined by her negative character traits, which would put a lot of people off. That’s probably why Ray Tate hates her so much. (She’s not supposed to be a good person, Ray, nor a bad person. THAT’S THE POINT!)
Y: The Last Man #15 -
The space capsule comes down, and only one astronaut survives. No, it’s not one of the men. Sorry if that spoils it, but think: If a man did survive, it would have to be called ‘Y: The Second to Last Man’. But this new woman may still hold the key to creating more men.
Yorick may be the last guy on earth, with several groups out for his blood, but he’s still lucky in one respect: He’s got a girlfriend. Yorick knows there is one special woman for him. He’s so sure he’s found “the one”, he’s willing to travel around the world (and turn down sex with nearly 3 billion willing partners), to find her. Damn, man, how can you get so close to a woman, how can you be so sure, how can you know a person so intimately that they mean more to you than the whole world?
How can you love?
Even the older books I read reflect my attitudes.
Our Cancer Year
This graphic novel chronicles Harvey Pekar’s fight with cancer, as well as his wife’s work with teenage refugees of war torn countries. Reading this, I got a bad feeling this was more about Joyce Babner, (Mrs. Pekar), than Harvey. Maybe it’s just me, but I fail to see how Pekar’s chemo treatments and his growing weakness relate, even thematically, to Joyce visiting an Israeli family shortly before the Gulf War.
Now here’s a story about real people going through real problems. It’s interesting, yet I felt strangely distant from it all. Pekar’s suffering is not my suffering. I felt sorry for the guy, but I didn’t really feel for him, you know?
X-Men: X-Tinction Agenda and Crossroads TPBs
The appeal of the X-Men has been their personal relationships and character changes as much as their superhuman adventures. I know I said that dramas bore me because their problems are too much like the lives of real people. But how many real people are tried as terrorists by a nation supported by mutant slave labor? Or get kidnapped across the galaxy, only to find their mentor is now a cruel, murderous dictator? Comics can deal with themes and ideas common in the real world, but in a fantasy setting that makes them easier to understand. More fun, too.
In the past, I’ve praised Chuck Austen’s X-men for its soap opera storylines. Such storytelling is evident here too. I consider that to be melodrama. That is emotions and events are heightened beyond realistic levels to be more entertaining. I’ve found real people don’t feel things as passionately as comic book characters. I wish they did; it would make people easier to understand. I don’t speak the unspoken language of double meanings or visual cues. The girl says she’s not mad, I’m going to believe her, even if she’s hiding it.
Fire From Heaven crossover (Deathblow #29 and WildC.A.T.S. (v1) #31)
For some reason, I’d felt like reading the “Fire From Heaven” crossover again. After slogging through it for the third time this year, I think I’m finally sick of it. The art is very uneven, and the work in ‘Deathblow’ is almost unreadable. Still, as a big-ass action story, it’s not bad. Worth buying, if you find it in cheap bins.
This has nothing to do with my neurosis. Sometimes, I just like to see hot chicks and explosions. Wouldn’t want to make a habit of it, but it’s a nice change of pace.
Bacchus v6: 1,001 Nights of Bacchus
A bartender agrees to stay open after hours as long as the patrons can keep Bacchus awake. They do so with a variety of tales, ranging from a long Superman joke to the legend of Gilgamesh set at a soccer game.
I like short stories. They’re brief, easy to read, and are often driven by action. I particularly enjoy the sci-fi of Phillip K. Dick, who practically invented the ironic twist ending involving the whole of reality being a lie created by a dreaming robot that turns out to be God that we now consider cliché! I consider Eddie Campbell to be the master of the short graphic story.
I tend to prefer short stories over long novels probably because I have a short attention span. My mind wanders easily. I’ll be reading a Silver Age Marvel comic by Lee & Kirby, and while the Thing is punching up a big ape, my mind wanders and I imagine myself in a superhero world. If a comic book cannot hold my attention, is that a criticism of the book or of myself?
One of the reasons I started this column was to observe how who I am affected my reading and whether or not that changed over time. My life is exactly the same as it was a year ago. I’ve still living at home, working a crappy part-time job, isolating myself from the human race, and half-heartedly looking for a real job. All passions and feelings normally felt towards real people are instead focused on comic books. I see so much of myself in these mass-produced fictional characters that the real world seems empty and dull.
I daydream of being all-powerful in a comic book world. Even there, I am feared and hated by everyone. I am opposed at every turn. I dream of being greater than heroes, yet I am still petty. I do whatever I want but remain unhappy. I fear the secret of happiness still eludes me. Perhaps it lies with maturity; that I must change myself before I find contentment.
But The Michael had always been right. It is the foundation of my belief system. Everything I say and do is perfectly correct for the time. Yet logic and nature tell me I must be wrong at least as often as I am right. But where am I wrong? What lie do I believe true? My fear has blinded me to any new ideas. My anger rejects all help.
This is why Daredevil is my favorite hero. He has no fear. His anger is his strength. And though blind, he sees the world in ways normal people cannot imagine. Though appearing weaker, he is better than others. I wish to be more like him; to overcome my blindness and my fears, my anger fueling my drive and determination instead of holding me in place.
I want to jump without being afraid of falling.
Is that the secret to love?
When this goes up, I will have turned 26 years old. Soon after that, I plan to become a man.
But I still won’t watch “Smallville”.
Next week, I will talk about playing with the Indy Clix miniatures. 5 adults playing with toys. It’s still the most contact I’ve had with people in weeks.
Anyone who wishes to write an article about why “Smallville” is a great show, contact my editor at craig@silverbulletcomicbooks.com - I think Ray Tate is working on one already.
