The Wicked + The Divine: The Semiotics Of Snapping

Issue one of Image's The Wicked + The Divine came out three weeks ago now, the latest project by regular collaborators Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie (along with Matt Wilson as colourist and Clayton Cowles as letterer).

The story of 12 gods who incarnate into human bodies every 90 years, inspire absolute devotion and fear in equal measure and die within 2 years, it has, as with most Gillen/McKelvie projects, firmly taken root in my subconscious. It's a fantastic "why didn't I think of that" concept, positioning the gods as rock stars who encourage fanatical adoration. It taps into concepts of belief, self-mythologising, fame, art, self-image, the relationship between creators and fans and most importantly, the inevitability of death.

As someone with a lifelong interest in classical mythology and a deep passion for music, it absolutely hits a sweet spot in my mental landscape. Other, smarter people have already examined the issue in a more general sense, but I wanted to really close in on an action that repeats throughout the comic; the snapping of one's fingers.

 SPOILERS, INEVITABLY

We see several of the godly characters snapping their fingers in the issue, and it seems to be fundamentally connected to the manifestation of their supernatural powers. What's more, it seems, at least judging by this issue, linked inescapably to death. A short prologue introduces us to the previous generation of godly avatars, who having had their number reduced to four, seemingly elect to end their lives. After a countdown from four (another of the issue's recurring motifs), the quartet snap their fingers in unison, and the large stately home in which they are sitting detonates spectacularly, killing them all (at least, that's how it appears).

Later, we are introduced to the modern incarnations of some of the gods, namely Amaterasu, Sakhmet and Lucifer (aka Luci). Attacked by snipers hoping to kill her, Luci unleashes her godly powers, exploding the heads of the assailants in an explosion of pop-art gore with nothing more than a snap of her fingers.

And finally, towards the close of the issue, Luci stands in the dock in a courtroom, debating the judge. Are they willing to admit she is a god, and therefore responsible for the men's deaths (and possibly then beyond human judgement), or is she just a delusional human, and therefore the deaths nothing more than macabre coincidence? As the judge threatens to hold her in contempt, Luci replies with her own threat - a hand held aloft, fingers poised to snap. After a moment of tension, she does and once more there is a spectacularly visceral death. Only this time, Luci claims she isn't responsible - someone else did it.

As I rolled the issue around in my head after reading it, tasting the flavours and letting it marinate in my brain juices, one thought began to simmer to the surface - "why snapping?" As a conceit, it felt entirely suited and seemed to gel very well into the books vision of casual, almost nonchalant godhood, but I wanted to unpick it more.

LIMINAL ACTIONS, LASTING REACTIONS

Saying you are able to do something "like clicking my fingers" implies both ease and immediacy. It requires a smallest amount of effort and happens before anyone can react. It's important to note that in the comics, we only ever see the before and the after of the snap - it's an action that's hard to slow down enough to show the exact moment it happens, the hand curled up as the finger and thumb release their tension. By its very nature, the snap is transitory and instantaneous - it is an action defined by where you start and where you finish.

In culture, we tend to find snapping fingers in a few specific situations. Sometime, it is a mark of confidence between two people, like giving someone the 'finger guns' or, more closely, a wink, another act defined by it's immediacy. It's a sign of confidence, perhaps even arrogance, and of a covenant sealed. If you ask me if I'm sure I can take care of something and I simply snap my fingers and point at you, the implication is not only that I can handle the task in question, but that it will be a literal 'snap'.

This ease and poise is something the gods in The Wicked + The Divine seem to radiate in large quantities. They are both performers and demagogues, and although their agenda (either as individuals or as an erstwhile pantheon) hasn't really been explored yet, it is clear that connecting with people, with their worshippers and fans, is high on their list. When we examine the gods we have seen so far and the influences we can see in their portrayals, it's clear that Gillen and McKelvie are tapping into the school of performer who have no room for self-doubt in their public image. These are not Conor Oberst-style musicians, heads cowed, mumbling into their microphones. They are Bowie, Florence Welch and Rihanna, anthemic and iconic. These are the kind of characters the finger-snap belongs to.

JAZZ CLUB WARFARE

While we're talking about performance, lets look at another of the finger-snap's natural habitats - music. For as long as there's been music, people have been using claps, snaps and stamps to mark out a beat. As we moved to drums and electronics for our percussion needs, snapping fingers on a track has on the aura of folksiness, simplicity, and perhaps even the dreaded "authenticity". It's what gives Lorde's "Royals" it's stripped-back appeal and Queen and David Bowie's "Under Pressure" it's uniting fuck-yeahedness.

 

There are certain genres that a more associated with snapping fingers - one can't help but think of the stereotypical jazz club filled with beatniks clicking in appreciation - but really they can find a home anywhere. Their relative quietness compared to guitars, drums et al means that any track using them has to hold back to a certain degree, to create silence that those distinctive snaps can fill. Clicks demand that the music makes room for them. They have power.

WEAPONISED DISDAIN

Where else do we find snapping fingers? If we're extremely unlucky, they're being waved in our face. Using clicking to get someone's attention is one of those moves that marks someone out as a scummy human being - when I was around 8 I can remember a friend of my granddad's doing it at to a waitress at a restaurant and even at that age, I can remember thinking "That's not how you treat other people".

The finger-snap for attention move takes all the confidence and bravado of the act when shared between friends and transmutes it into arrogance and dismissiveness. It's no longer about celebrating people's attention, but demanding it. Not performing when in the spotlight, but rather insisting that it falls upon you. It's an act of control.

SNAPPY COMEBACKS

So, here we have the primary tool and weapon of our gods, their sceptre and their magic wand (and how appropriate is it that, in a series about the briefness of power, fame and life, it's a transitory action rather than a physical object). It's an action that we can frame in a number of ways, but in the end it occupies all of them at the same time. It's about confidence, creativity and control. It's the wink between friends, the song that you can't help sing along with, and the gesture that tells you "you're not worth my time".

And in that curious alchemy, maybe we find what we're looking for in our pop stars and our gods - something that draws in and pushes back at the same time. Something that promises wonders then asks if we really deserve them. It's the spark of inspiration and the rules we must obey. The promise of glory and the price we must pay. The wicked, and the divine.

My Writing Process - Part of the Blogtour

So apparently, there's a sort of meme working it's way through the blogosphere (we really, really need a better word for it than that) where writers of various sorts describe their current projects and processes before passing the format on to a new pair of bloggers they know. It's like a pyramid scheme, but nobody's getting rich.

  Last week, the illustrious Dave Chapman presented his new link in the chain and passed on the duties to Stoo Goff and I. I've known Dave aka Frankie for over 10 years now, and he is fundamental to the topic I'll be writing about today. Back when he worked at Ottakar's bookstore, Frankie was responsible for introducing me to the world of role-playing games, most notably through the Buffy the Vampire Slayer game produced by Eden Studios that he had a hand in birthing into this world. He ran a sort of reading group for RPGs, where we'd try a new system each month, and since then has acted as a player, a GM and most importantly a wise and awesome friend.

What Am I Working On?

  For the last year, my friend Bret and I have been taking the Unisystem created by Eden Studios and unceremoniously breaking it apart to create a heroic fantasy RPG. It was Bret's initial brainchild but he quickly drafted me in as a partner. The initial idea was to take the cinematic flavour and streamlined rules of the Unisystem and build something with the feel of Dungeons and Dragons, without the strict combat focus of 4th edition D&D, or the bewildering complexity of 3.5 ed.

  Of course, adding things like a class system, different schools of magic and a more controlled parceling out of weapons and combat skills makes the system considerably less stream-lined, but our watchword has always been keeping that cinematic flavour. In short - will this make playing the game feel like being the dashing hero of a swords-and-sorcery film? While the mechanics behind creating and progressing a character are more complex, the game-play is still (hopefully) as fluid as before.

  When I'm not working on the fantasy RPG, I have my own project that is slowly bubbling away in the background, similar in type but different in scope and flavour. Another tweak of the Unisystem (we've been playing with it for a long while and it's very versatile), this one is a modern fantasy drawing on inspiration like Scott Pilgrim, Adventure Time and My Little Pony to create a light-hearted game where anything can happen.

How Does My Work Differ From Others In My Genre?

  For our fantasy RPG, tone is something I've been very conscious of throughout. There is a tendency among fantasy to be either po-faced or parodic, and we don't want our game to be either of those. I want to play a game where I'm invested in the story, but I also hear AC/DC playing in my head during the fights. The fact that Buffy the Vampire Slayer has been Bret and mine's longest running game gives you a heads-up to the kind of universe we want to create. Something with mythology and scope, but also human drama.

  At the moment, the focus is on the mythology and scope end of the scale, as we're still crafting the history of the world. I've been responsible for a lot of the background work on things like the varying races' culture and history, and how the world feels. Even with this macro-level stuff, the focus is always on how this will feel when people play it. There is no point creating a history for a race that gives people nothing to hook on to.

  As for my own game, the work there is even more casual in tone, and I'm allowing my own personal voice to leak through a lot more prominently, not only as it's an individual project, but also because the atmosphere of the game is so much more light-hearted.

Why Do I Write What I Do?

  As far as I'm concerned, a good role-playing game creates an experience unlike any other, fusing the best elements of an immersive computer game, improvisational theatre and simply hanging out with your friends into something far greater than the sum of it's parts. As long as I've been playing them, I've been tinkering with them, and the idea of building worlds for people to explore and populate has always been a driving force and passion. I am more than happy to admit that when it comes to fiction, I am appalling at creating plots. Guiding a role-playing game takes some of the pressure off that demand - it's more important (to my mind) to create an atmosphere, and characters that are compelling. If the world and the characters are strong enough, the plot just sort of happens.

  With the fantasy game, the initial idea was Bret's, but as we've built the world and the system that supports it, my own motivations and running ideas have crept in. In some ways, we're aiming to make the game as trope-filled as possible, to allow our players to really delve into all their idle fantasies about exploring dungeons and defeating monsters, but there are also areas where we subvert them, or twist them into something new. That's where I find my passion really excited - chopping and screwing with expectations to make something new from old parts.

How Does Your Writing Process Work?

  In fits and starts. I am very much a slave to my mood and circumstances. I've pretty much given up writing at home since I had to move back with my parents - I have no desk in my room, and the other rooms in the house are either too busy or without suitable spaces. Plus, there is the dread distraction of the internet and all it has too offer. Most of my work has lately been done in coffee shops, which keep me both focused and in a caffeine-fueled hum of activity. Strangely, even when I'm working somewhere that has WiFi, the very act of going somewhere specifically for the act of writing helps me focus a great deal. I look forward to the day when I can afford a house with a study set aside just for this sort of thing - it'll certainly save me money on Americanos.

  The very scope of the project I'm working on allows me to move from one area to another when motivation dries. Because some of the writing is very technical, or is as much a task of mathematics as it is literature, there are days when I just can't face opening up six different charts to work out what sort of sword I should give this demon, and so then I can dive into detailing background, be it history, linguistics or simply description. Then, I can head back to the statistical tasks with a renewed passion for the subject.

Coming Next...

As I mentioned at the beginning, part of the Blogtour idea is that I pass this beast on to be continued next week. My two unwitting volunteers:

Josh Butler is a columnist, author and screenwriter from Norwich who somehow thinks the catch-all ‘writer’ is beneath him. He recently caught attention with his ‘Disney Theory’, where he connects the worlds of 30 Disney movies and he is currently enjoying linking other movies to that universe and trying to work out why nonsense conspiracies get some people so irate.

His idols are Whedon, Pullman, Sorkin, Fey and Murakami and he loves female-lead indie electronic bands and rapping along to hip-hop with a complete lack of self-awareness.

Follow him at @Joshubuh or post angry comments about Tarzan’s jaw-structure at http://www.joshubuh.com.

Alex Spencer has a day job, writing about the intersection of brands and technology for Mobile Marketing Magazine. But he still thinks of himself primarily as a blogger. Writing unspellchecked flights of fancy about whichever song, game or comic grabs his attention, to an irregular schedule – this is his vocation.

Follow him at @AlexJaySpencer or watch him pit 2013's best songs against each other in a multi-round elimination tournament at http://akadaffs.blogspot.co.uk/

Comic Review: Rat Queens Volume 1 - Sass And Sorcery

  As much as the world in general still thinks of comics and superheroes as interchangeable terms, you, fine and learned reader, are well aware that comics tackle a huge variety of genres, from journalism and biography to noir and sci-fi. However, perusing the shelves of your local comic book store or library, you will notice that for a medium with lot of demographic crossover with properties like Lord of the Rings, high fantasy is a little under-represented.

  Particularly when it comes to the larger US publishers, modern urban fantasy outweighs your traditional sword-and-sorcery stories by a hefty portion. I'm sure there's a whole blog post to be had in diving into the possible reasons behind this, but I won't be doing that here. The notable point is this: for a medium where a larger-than-normal section of the audience have probably played Dungeons & Dragons, comics seem to be leaving some money on the table.

  That's why a comic like Rat Queens comes as such a breath of fresh air. Written by Kurtis J Wiebe with art by the fantastically named Roc Upchurch, and lettered by Ed Brisson, Rat Queens is a gloriously visceral approach to fantasy comics, blending traditional high fantasy trappings with a decidedly modern outlook. The comic owes a lot to Dungeons & Dragons and similar games - the comic follows an adventuring party with the classic make-up of a fighter, a thief, a wizard and a cleric, and includes such traditional trappings as rival adventurers, quests handed out by town officials and magical relics. However, the comic is shot through with an affectionate self-awareness and an almost Tarantino-esque violent streak that marks it apart from both the sterility of something like Lord of the Rings and the grim reality of Game of Thrones.

  The other immediately notable thing about Rat Queens is the female-heavy cast. All four main characters are female, as are numerous members of the supporting cast, all of them well-developed. Upchurch's art presents a wide variety of body types and his facial expressions are fantastic, capturing glee, rage, flirtation, grim determination and everything in between perfectly. Not only is the friendship between Hannah, Violet, Dee and Betty at the core of the book, but their relationship with other women is also important - Hannah has a complex rivalry with Tizzie, the leader of a rival adventuring group, and Betty's "courtship" of Faeyri forms a sweet subplot that runs through the volume.

  Within this first arc, Wiebe manages to not only tell a compelling story, but do a great job establishing characters and building the world the story take place in (things like Hannah's mobile phone-equivalent being the product of dark necromancy are among the nice touches). Likewise, Upchurch is a great storyteller, with dynamic panel structures that splinter and skew the more furious the combat grows, and wonderful quieter moments like the page where Betty applies a Sherlockian eye to a local guild-leader's office. 

  In fact, the only place where the book falls down a little is in the blurb on the back of the trade that reduces the characters to simple archetypes like "Hannah the Rockabilly Elven Mage" and "Violet the Hipster Dwarven Fighter". While this helps sell the modern sensibility of the book, it suggests a much less elegant story without the affection Rat Queens shows for both the genre and its characters. And while Violet may be a hipster (she shaved her beard off before it was cool), the characters are so much more than these simple descriptors suggest.

  While I'm not about to leap to buying the single issues (maintaining such a light, raucous tone means it's harder to build the kind of stakes monthly serialisation requires) I'll definitely be buying the next collection of Rat Queens, and I can only suggest you catch up now before all the other cool kids do.

FULL CREDITS: Rat Queens Volume 1 - Sass & Sorcery is published by Image Comics as part of their Shadowline inprint. It is written by Kurtis J Wiebe, with art and covers by Roc Upchurch. Ed Brisson is the letterer, and Laura Tavishati is the editor. Jim Valentino is the publisher and book designer.

Person of the Year 2013 - Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction

As is tradition, this article was first posted earlier today on Alex-Spencer.co.uk, digital home of pop culture impresario and dancefloor whirlwind Alex Spencer. As always, Alex brings you the finest in commentary and consideration, and at this very moment is running his tracks of the year through an elimination tournament to discover who emerges victorious. His articles always make for the most nuanced, entertaining reading available, and you should go check it out as soon as you're done here.

The good thing about making the rules is that you can decide when to break them. That's something I think this year's choice for Person of the Year represents, and so it that spirit, I'm breaking my own rules, and declaring a joint selection this year.

Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction are both comic writers who have had great years. They have worked within the system of the "Big Two" comic companies to craft superhero stories that resonate on a personal level and are elevated beyond folks in tight costumes punching each other (not that there's anything wrong with the occasional spandex fistfight) and also produced independent books that have pushed themselves and the medium creatively into telling new types of stories. They are deft practitioners of social media, using their Twitter/Tumblr/whatever presence to interact with fans and build a sense of community among like-minded readers. They are everything a modern comic writer should be. They also happen to be married to each other.

 

Let us consider Kelly Sue DeConnick first. Having risen up through manga translation and the odd issue and mini-series at Marvel, Kelly Sue earned the job of relaunching Carol Danvers as Captain Marvel in July 2012.

Captain Marvel #10, cover by Joe Quinones

Danvers, as Ms Marvel, was a character that Marvel had slowly been raising the profile of, clearly aware of their lack of a female superhero able to support her own series a la Wonder Woman. Ms Marvel was a natural choice for this evolution, and with Kelly Sue's relaunch, she finally took the name Captain. Like so many female superheroes, Danvers' origin was tied to a male hero, the original Captain Marvel, but by taking on the mantle as her own, both the character and Marvel themselves were making the statement that this was no longer a spin-off, distaff companion to another hero. She had inherited his name, and so was his equal.

The series proceeded to build a upon the ideas of legacy, exploring the world of female aviators while Carol adventured through time and fought monsters and villains across the world. DeConnick built a wonderful supporting cast for Carol, using established characters from her previous solo series and introducing new ones, and in one of the most exciting developments, this year it was revealed that the Ms Marvel title would relaunch with a young hero inspired by Carol's exploits. 

 

There is a long and embarrassing history in comic books of female heroes all being based on existing male characters - Batwoman, Supergirl, She-Hulk, etc - and while many of these characters have had fantastic stories written about them that treated them as well-rounded, three dimensional characters, that initial secondary nature hangs over them. Just as Carol Danvers had shed that idea by truly embracing her position as Captain Marvel, the new Ms Marvel, Kamala Khan, is unique for being one of the few female heroes inspired by another female character. 

 

As many of 2014's "Year in Review" style articles will tell you, we seem to be part of an exciting time for feminism, and bringing the idea of female role models, mentoring and friendship to the fore in this way is just one of the methods DeConnick has used to create a modern feminist hero in Captain Marvel. The book is full of interesting, conflicted woman who feel real, and who deal with issues that all readers can relate to (albeit in the magnified, larger-than-life way that superhero comics tend to use). This deeply integrated feminism has created a huge and devoted fanbase online, the Carol Corps, who read, write, draw, craft and cosplay to support their hero. Captain Marvel is relaunching with a new number 1 in 2014 and I can't wait to see where DeConnick sends Danvers next.

Pretty Deadly #2, cover by Emma Rios

DeConnick's other big project this year was a creator owned one, a mythical Western horror series called Pretty Deadly she made with Emma Rios, Jordie Bellaire and Clayton Cowles. Pretty Deadly is well removed from Captain Marvel's primary coloured exploits, for although Carol Danvers is a complex, rounded character, there's no denying she's a hero. As befits its genre roots, there are no obvious heroes in Pretty Deadly.

 

Instead, there's Johnny the nihilistic coward, languishing in a prostitute's bed with a bruised ego. Fox, the blind wanderer with a dark secret. And Deathface Ginny herself, the granddaughter of Death, a skull-faced avenger loosed on the world. Pretty Deadly is different to almost everything out there at the moment, a lyrical folkloric tale that entrances and disturbs in equal measure. Rios' beautiful fluid art and inspired layouts combine perfectly with the tone DeConnick creates, giving everything an otherworldly, dream-like feel. Each issue begins with the framing story, as the tale of Deathface Ginny to told between a butterfly and a skeletal rabbit, and the first issue was largely taken up with a gorgeously relayed song describing Ginny's origins. These stylistic choices feel like acts of faith, asking people to get on board with the book's atmosphere, accept the world the team is weaving that is so different to most other comics. 

 

 I'm sure there were a fair few people who never got past young Sissy's song of Death's daughter locked in a tower, but those of us who gave the book a chance became utterly bewitched by the story that is being told. Pretty Deadly is DeConnick's first creator owned series, and that she has chosen such a bold, unique story, clearly born of her passions and executed in such a confident way speaks volumes about her skill as a writer.

Hawkeye #3, art by David Aja

Let's turn now to Matt Fraction. Fraction has been a "name" in comics for much longer, moving from his early independent work with AiT/PlanetLar and Image to higher profile jobs at Marvel, relaunching Iron Fist with Ed Brubaker and writing acclaimed runs on the X-Men, Thor and Iron Man. 

 

Like Kelly Sue, the summer of 2012 saw him relaunching an existing hero at Marvel, in his case Hawkeye. Reteaming with his Iron Fist artist the incredible David Aja, Fraction took Marvel's archer (his profile raised by an appearance in the Avengers film) and re-positioned him as a true everyman hero, one who drank straight from the coffee maker and struggled to connect his DVR. Hawkeye became a book about what a (relatively) grounded hero does when not being an Avenger, and focused on Clint Barton's relationship with his young protege Kate Bishop, also called Hawkeye. 

 

Indeed, by the time of this article, the two have parted ways and the book alternates, spending one issue with Barton in New York and one with Bishop in Los Angeles. Like Captain Marvel embracing her new name, Kate Bishop is as much Hawkeye as Clint Barton, and in many cases seems to have her life a lot more together. The series serves in part as a deconstruction of the hero and sidekick trope, showing that when you take an established but flawed existing hero and pair them with a hyper-competent teen then things are not going to run smoothly. 

 

As well as sharing the spotlight with Kate Bishop, 2013 saw Fraction and Aja release Hawkeye #11, "Pizza is my Business", an issue told entirely from the point of view of Lucky, Hawkeye's dog. It was a stylistic tour de force, utilising Aja's astonishing layouts to show how Lucky's senses interpret the world through scent. It wasn't simply empty spectacle or showing off though - the issue also drove the overarching plot forward in multiple ways, in many ways proving a pivotal issue in the run so far. It was a great example of a story that could only be told as a comic, and showed how the medium can be pushed forward.

 

Sex Criminals #1, art by Chip Zdarsky

Fraction has had multiple other titles out this year, included acclaimed runs on Fantastic Four and its sister title FF, and his Satellite Sam series with Howard Chaykin, but I'm going to focus on his new Image series with cartoonist Chip Zdarksy, Sex Criminals. From its provocative title to its frank depiction of sex, Sex Criminals seems to be a comic built to shock people, but for all the penises and orgasms, it's actually an incredibly sweet and honest story of two people falling in love. 

 

Suzie and John, the protagonists, have a unique ability to stop time when they climax. When they discover each other after meeting at a party, they share how they came to realise they had this power, and how it shaped their sexual awakenings. Now, having finally met someone with a similar ability, they quickly begin to fall for each other, and as they do, realise that they can use their ability to save the library Suzie works at. It's a gloriously silly comic, featuring the two lead characters goofing around in a sex shop and, in issue 3, a full blown musical number (of a sort). 

 

Obviously, inevitably, it's also filled with hundreds of filthy jokes, from the numerous sex moves an more experienced girl tells a teenaged Suzie about, to the different categories of porn in the sex shop. I have rarely laughed at a comic as much as I have at Sex Criminals. But at the core of the story is something much more personal - a story about connection, about the different ways we have sex and how frightening and alienating youth can be. Like Hawkeye, Fraction has an amazing collaborator in the form of Zdarsky, who gives Suzie and John a human warmth and life, and contributes more than his fair share of the jokes to the pages. It is one of those rare comics that I would recommend to everyone, as long as they don't mind dick jokes.

 

It should be clear by this point that both DeConnick and Fraction are writers at the top of their game, forever pushing the envelope in terms of what can be achieved in mainstream comics. They've both gone to great lengths to make even their work-for-hire into projects they are passionate about, ones that are shot through with their personality. But accomplishment and expertise alone ill not win you the coveted "Person of the Year" award.

Both Kelly Sue and Matt have gone to great lengths to be accessible and honest with their fans. They talk, enthuse and joke around with people online. Kelly Sue is fiercely protective and supportive of her Carol Corps, and Matt manages to balance absurdist humour with humbling honesty about his struggles with addiction and depression. They reach out to fans and welcome it when fans reach back. More than that, they share their lives openly and in a way that encourages respect, rather then invasive prying.

They have two young children together, and watching the slices of their family life that they present, they're clearly loving, generous parents, whether they're building a cardboard city for their son and his friends to destroy for a Giant Monster themed birthday or servicing their daughter's two current loves by painting a toy tool bench pink. They have the sort of family life that makes me wonder if I could get adopted by them.

I was lucky enough to meet them both at Thought Bubble this year and in person, they are exactly as charming, friendly and wonderful as their presence on the Internet suggests. Both were faced with huge queues for both days of the convention, but treated each person who lined up to get something signed with patience and kindness, and were more than happy to chat about their work and their lives. In a world where public personae are increasingly managed, not just by celebrities but by Joe Average, it's refreshing to see two people who have need to do so. I hold both Kelly Sue and Matt up as icons, and meeting them only cemented that.

Dr Nerdrage or; How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Kill Batman

My friend Bret and I often like to play the popular Nerd Sport of “If I Was In Charge…” where we take over creative direction and editorial control of Star Wars, or Marvel, or whatever, but usually with an incredibly specific remit such as “Construct a team of Avengers that has a specific mission or area of expertise” or “Make a team of 80s/90s villains to face off against the Expendables”. One of the most recent ones that Bret posed to me was this:

“You have been given the job of killing off Batman. DC have decided it’s time to let him die and to try something radically new. You have to come up with the storyline that leads to his death, but it has to involve a C-list member of his rogues gallery who is revealed to have been pulling the strings in his life all along.”

Of course, this is never something that DC would go for – Batman is their number one cash cow, and to radically rewrite his history at the same time as killing him off would cause some kind of collective fanboy aneurysm. Still, you have to buy into the premise in these exercises, and with that said, I managed to provide an answer that resulted in Bret saying “You have to write that up and share it – I don’t care if you get death threats.” So, with our criteria clear and the understanding that this will never, ever actually happen so if you stumble across this and feel the need to rent your frustrations in Caps Lock, take a breath and reconsider your life, here’s what I came up with:

HOW I KILL BATMAN

Our story opens with a flashback to (stylistically) late 60s Batman, just before Neal Adams reworked the hero to be closer to the gothic badass we are familiar with today. Robin is still Dick Grayson, and comic books have not yet fallen into the chasm of “dark and gritty means grown-up”. Robin and Batman are dealing with a riot at Arkham Asylum. In the midst of the fighting, Batman is thrown from a high stairwell and his grappling hook fails to connect. He falls heavily to the floor and is briefly knocked out. After a few moments, he reawakens to find his nose bloody, his ankle sprained and some of Arkham’s inmates advancing on him, but despite his grogginess he manages to defeat them, and resume bringing the asylum under control. However, in the shadows at the base of the stairs, a figure watches him swing off, their plan already in motion.

Jump forward to the Batman of today (for your information, I’m not bothering working out where this all stands in the whole “New 52” continuity – I’m working with old school Bats) and there is a mass breakout from Arkham Asylum. Over the course of what is likely almost a year’s worth of issues, Batman finds himself dealing with most of his major foes in some way or another, all free and causing trouble at the same time. So far, so Knightfall, right? Well, yes and no, because not only are the villains free, they seem dangerously co-ordinated. There are multiple attacks on Wayne Manor by villains that have no idea about Batman’s secret identity. Others go to work on isolating Gotham, disrupting the efforts of other heroes (both in the Bat-family and the wider universe) to help. Batman slowly becomes cut-off from his allies and increasingly stretched thin.

Needless to say, Batman suspects some kind of conspiracy or massive villain team-up, but even when captured and exposed to the standard Bat-Intimidation-Techniques, multiple villains claim no knowledge of a wider plan - they just happen to be working in unison, with no larger goal. As the attacks step up and Batman becomes less and less able to combat the free-roaming villains, the Joker kills Alfred and Commission Gordon. Batman is justifiably pissed, and we see what we think must be the start of a roaring rampage of revenge, as Batman gets his groove back and takes all the villains to school. But when he drops in on the Joker, he finds himself ambushed by several villains (the notably tougher/more combat able ones) and eventually captured.

Returned to the partially ruined Wayne Manor, Batman rages against the Joker, who lords it over him, but then a voice rings out "It wasn't his idea. It never was" and from the shadows emerges Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter.

The Mad Hatter explains, through a series of flashbacks, that he was always far smarter and far less crazy than Batman gave him credit for. His time as a supervillain was a mere distraction, a break from the day to day. Really, an obsession with Alice in Wonderland and hats? What did Batman take him for? His insanity was a smokescreen, produced by a chip in his head that would allow him to appear a harmless (or at least, borderline harmless) madman for weeks at a time while his normal consciousness worked on scientific problems, then return him to his normal self at a designated time. His own mind was the first he ever controlled. Well, almost the first, he says, gesturing towards Joker.

Poor Joker. He had to test his insanity simulator, of course, and thank the Lord he did. A faulty connection in the nanocircuitry led to Joker being uncontrollable insane until Tetch was able to correct the implant a few years ago. Of course, by then, he had also implanted almost every other foe in Batman's rogues gallery, certainly any of those who ever passed through Arkham. It's incredible what you can smuggle in once you have a guard under your control. Why did Batman think so many of his foes were so utterly consumed with foiling him? Why had so few ever left Gotham to practice their criminal activities in less well-protected cities. Why did none of them respond to treatments for their insanity. Because Tetch wanted them crazy and focused on revenge. He wanted Batman's life to be one of unending struggle against evil.

Why? Because Batman had embarrassed him, that's why. His forays into supercrime had been a whim, trying out what seemed to be a fashionable craze, and Batman had defeated him, beaten him and thrown him in Arkham. He would have his revenge. He would turn the dark side of Batman's city against him, forever. There would be no peace for him. No respite. His fight would be eternal, as long as Tetch desired.

Of course, that had changed slightly on that fateful day years ago, when Batman had fallen, unconscious, at his feet in Arkham. You see, Tetch could now see that Batman was as sick as the very criminals he fought. He may not steal or kill or torture, but his obsession was palpable. If he had set aside his quest for justice, he could have recovered from the death of his parents, rather than dragging other people into it. He could have spent the Wayne fortune creating lasting change in the city, eliminating the conditions that created so much crime. But no - that would never be enough. Tetch would see to it. You see, in that minute when Batman had laid helpless at his feet, he too had fallen victim to the Mad Hatter. He too, was under Tetch's control.

It was only subtle pokes and prods, of course. Just enough to steer him towards his endless, un-winnable crusade and away from any hope of a normal life. And he could have been normal, have been happy. Tetch has seen his thoughts. But no, he would be punished for his slight, for his arrogance. The villains would never stop coming, and Batman would never retreat. He was locked in an endless conflict that would eventually kill him. Unless, of course, Tetch decided otherwise.

At this point, Tetch pulls out a small device and explains that he's going to do what Batman never could. He will end the devastation of Gotham, the plaque of supercrime, and he will give Batman his happy ending. And with a push of a button, the assembled villains (excluding Tetch) collapse, blood leaking from their ears, their nose, their eyes. And deep inside Batman's brain, a tiny, undetectable web of nanomachines triggers, rewriting synapses and channeling chemicals to new spots. And Tetch? He simply walks away.

We move forward six months. Gotham has recovered from the villain's wave of destruction and for once, things are actually looking up. Reconstruction is ahead of schedule, and crime is down. The city is improving. In the newly renovated, mostly empty halls of Arkham Asylum, a man talks with one of the doctors. The damage to his friend's nervous system is irreparable - he can function more or less normally, but his fine motor skills and hand-to-eye co-ordination are shot, as is his concentration. He's the same man he was, he's just clumsier and less focused. No, replies the man, this isn't anything like the man I knew. His drive is gone. He remembers everything, but he doesn't care anymore. He's...happy.

He takes a seat in the Visitor's Room and his friend, Bruce Wayne, is brought through to see him. He doesn't understand why he's being kept here, but he doesn't mind. He gets to watch TV and talk to people. Hey, he thought of a joke. Would you like to hear?

"Sure" says the man who used to be the Joker, his face recovering from a round of plastic surgery to return it to normal - only two more to go.

"Why didn't I do well on my date? Because I had BAT breath! Get it?"

The Joker laughs, humouring his friend, then pats him on the hand and leaves.

Play To Z: 1977 to 8701

Random Observations

  I've heard some recent commentary on The-Dream AKA Terius Nash's career, claiming that 1977, the album length free EP he put out in 2011, was half-baked and thrown out to keep his name afloat in critical circles. I haven't listened to half as much of his earlier stuff as I'd like to, but if there's any truth in that it must be some of the best music out there, because I love 1977. Songs like "Used To Be", "Ghetto" and "Wish You Were Mine" are all astonishing works of confessional RnB, with the infectious "Wedding Crasher" serving as a centrepiece to the album, all wounded pride and self-conscious self-destruction.

  When I was young and ignorant, I was clueless about a lot of music, but even though I only knew their poppier stuff, I was aware that The Beatles had transformed modern music and were incredibly innovative. When I finally made the effort to listen to their discography, it's clear how truly groundbreaking they were. But in terms of their legacy and how they are viewed in modern culture, it feels like the Beach Boys should be spoken of in the same breath. The Beatles have acknowledged how much Pet Sounds impacted their own music, and Brian Wilson is often held up as a tragic genius figure. Still, listening to 20 Golden Greats, the Beach Boys compilation that is the sole piece of music I've taken from my father's meager collection, it seems like the minds behind such complex, multi-levelled songs as "Help Me, Rhonda" and "Good Vibrations" showed be treated with the same regard.

  I'm going to need some more time with Justin Timberlake's newest album. JT is one of the finest contemporary purveyors of danceable, disposable pop music, so his decision to fill his latest album with slower songs that average out at six and a half minutes is a puzzling one. It's a sign that he didn't just return to music to shoot out a barely-considered album on autopilot, but it's still a curious choice. Still, with songs like "Mirrors" and "Strawberry Bubblegum", I'm happy to give it time to grow on me.

  It's a couple of years old now, but Azealia Banks' "212" remains electric. So far, she's shown no signs of being able to move beyond it's eclipse, but it's a hell of an act to follow.

  If you've enjoyed reading these blogs and you haven't seen 24 Hour Party People, Michael Winterbottom's biopic of Factory Records, stop reading now and go find a copy. The soundtrack alone is worth your effort and time, even without the fantastic performances and thrilling portrait of England in the 70s, 80s and 90s.

  Listening to 4, Beyoncé's most recent album, it feels like she's moving closer and closer to her own genre-defining work. Like the aforementioned Pet Sounds, Revolver, Nevermind or My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (to name but a few), Beyoncé's next album could well be one that will truly stand the test of time. Every album she's produced has pushed her sound further and harder, and brought with it singles that will help define this time period, musically. It will be harder for her, of course, because she is a woman, an unapologetically commercial pop artist and co-writer at best on most of her songs, but looking at where she stands right now in the cultural landscape, she absolutely deserves to be remembered alongside the great artists of our time. Listen to songs like "Countdown", "End Of Time" and "Run The World (Girls)" and tell me she doesn't.

  It feels somehow appropriate that my last few songs should include John Cage's "4'33". You better believe I listened to the whole damn thing.

  Kanye West's 808s & Heartbreaks was obviously divisive, but it feels like the step he needed to take, both as a producer and a lyricist. He never exactly shied away from speaking his mind, but this album strips away a lot of the bombast and reveals a more intimate portrait of West, just in time for the surge in confessional hip-hop he helped start to reach its crest. Musically, it takes him into a new direction, again stripping back and finding his core, ready for the next album to build layer upon layer on that core. It's got less hits that the previous three albums, but it was a shock of honesty at a time when his own myth was threatening to swallow him whole.

  And what was the final song of this whole endeavour?



Rediscovered Gem

"Heroes and Villains" by The Beach Boys



What Now?

I'll be back shortly with a directory post that makes it easy to chart this whole project from start to finish, plus a conclusion post where I sum up whether I actually learned anything from doing this. I hope I did, otherwise it's been a hell of a way to waste 10 months...

Play To Z: What's Poppin' Vol 1 to 1972

Random Observations

  Being a teenager is an awful, horrible experience. It's tortures are innumerable, but large among them is the weight of peer pressure. I am only thankful that I was out of my high school years by the time social networking truly exploded - I cannot imagine the experience magnified through the privacy-denying world of Facebook and Twitter. Anyway, as I've written previously, I didn't really forge any kind of musical taste or identity for myself until I hit 18, so high school consisted largely of agreeing with whatever my friends liked.
  I can remember sneering in adolescent derision at Girls Aloud as they emerged from Popstars: The Rivals. I can remember seeing Cheryl Cole (then Tweedy) arrested for her racist assault in a night club and making what I thought was an oh-so-zeitgeisty observation that with accelerated stardom came an accelerated decline. I can remember deriding their songs and going back to listen to Tenacious D.
  But all the time, a little voice in the back of my head was saying "But their first single...it was really catchy...it was doing interesting things..." When What Will The Neighbours Say came out I was out of high school's pressure cooker and growing into myself. The videos for "The Show" and "Love Machine" were on regular rotation on the two Freeview music channels, and by then, I was willing to accept the irresistible lure of Xenomania's dancefloor ready beats and clever, subversive lyrics, channeled through Girls Aloud's obvious talent.

  Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not would be an impressive album even stripped of context. Knowing that it was a debut album written by a band when most of the members hadn't turned 20 makes it a marvel. It carries such assurance, in both the instrumentation and the songwriting. There is no sloppiness disguised as punk-rock intention - this is a precise beast, stopping and starting and turning on a dime, humming along with a well-engineered purr. The topics of the lyrics may not vary, but Alex Turner engages them with such fine observation that it doesn't wear. In fact, by taking a universe and exploring it so thoroughly from multiple viewpoints and with a true sense of place, it could almost be a concept album. The fact that the Arctic Monkeys didn't rest on their laurels and simply try to recreate this album, musically or thematically, is the cherry on the already delicious cake.

  "Wichita Lineman" by Glen Campbell is one of the songs I want played at my funeral. His voice is beautiful - rich and simple, carrying loneliness and longing. The song balances a sort of country/Americana aesthetic with a sweet, Burt Bacharach kind of melody, and there's that iconic synthesizer Morse Code tapping out into the night. It's been called "the first existential country song" and there are many who proclaim it one of the best pop songs ever. Listening to it now, it's easy to see how.

  Witching Hour by Ladytron is like carving a passage into a glacier only to discover that it's got the world's coolest nightclub inside.

  As I mentioned near the beginning of this whole escapade (sometime in October I believe), We Are Scientists are one of those straightforward bands that aren't trying to reinvent the wheel, they're just trying to make some great pop music. With Love And Squalor, their first album, is a blueprint for their subsequent ones, producing song after song that you want to be hearing in the slightly dive-y back room of a bar in New York as you dance with your friends at 3am.

  I have no idea what "Lisztomania" by Phoenix is actually about (I'm pretty sure it's not actually about Franz Liszt) but I don't particularly care. I just wanna dance to it.

  Whenever I hear "Joker & The Thief" by Wolfmother, I feel sad that it wasn't around in the late 80s and early 90s, so it could inevitably be used in a Schwarzenegger vehicle. Imagine that spiraling guitar riff being played over the gearing up sequence in Commando and you will share my pain.

  Yeah So by Slow Club is a great album, topped off by a truly amazing song. "Our Most Brilliant Friends" became a touchstone of mine a couple of years ago when it felt like every friend of mine was lurching from tragedy to tragedy. It's hard to watch those you care about dealing with things that they have little control over, and the only help you can really offer is a shoulder to cry on and the distracting power of alcohol. To me, this song will always be about the strength my friends have, strength I didn't even know about, to endure and to triumph even when life is shitting on them from the greatest of heights.

  Broken Social Scene's You Forgot It In People moved them beyond the ambient sounds of their first record into the expansive post-rock collectivism that would come to define them. Released in 2002, it was bought in 2007 at Amoeba Records in San Francisco by Tim Maytom, who proclaimed it "the tits".

  I have 100 songs left to listen to. The next post will talk about them, and the post after will look back at this whole glorious endeavor.

Rediscovered Gem

"Tapas" by Action Bronson