Tomorrow marks the conclusion of Identity Crisis. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.

At Fanboy Rampage, there’s discussion of the one-page preview from #7 at Newsarama. Promotional copywriters at DC inform us that “a new level of humanity has been brought to the DC Universe.” They cleverly neglect to specify whether that level is low or high.

In the comments section at the Rampage, V luminary Matt Craig has his own thoughts on how the story will end:

“It’s forty-seven pages of a maskless Batman staring out of the page at the reader.

“And slowly fondling himself.

“Saying ‘You’re MY WIFE NOW…'”

At the Ninth Art, Bulent Yusuf takes the imminent arrival as an opportunity to eviscerate the writing:

“That’s not to say that topics like murder, rape and brainwashing can never be discussed within the pages of a comic book, but there are better ways of handling them – and Brad Meltzer has given a master-class in how not to do it. Where he aimed for lofty artistic heights, he’s plumbed the depths of vacant sensationalism. Where he earnestly sought accolades for thoughtful maturity, he’s earned a first-class diploma in emotional pornography. All of which is a complicated way of saying that enthusiasm is no substitute for talent.”

Even when it’s over, it won’t really be over. Looking through solicits for the next couple of months, there’s no shortage of “follow-up” stories in books like Teen Titans. And by the time the last of those dribble out, readers should be up to their necks in titles that claim to be prequels for Countdown, DC’s next big whater. Many are happily taking out the jeweler’s notch to try and figure out just whose corpse that is on the cover, but I’m gripped with suspense of another sort. Will DC be able to get both the hardcover and the paperback collections of IC on the shelves by the time Countdown hits?

Countdown will be written by Judd Winnick, who gave the world Graduation Day, and Geoff Johns, who thinks gunning down babies is a great way to kick off a story arc. Yes, smirking revisionism and gore-spattered nostalgia will join forces, and variant covers shall paper the land.
(Edited to add that Greg Rucka will be part of the Countdown writing team, too. I must have blocked it out, because it kind of makes me sad.)

I think I forgot to mention it when I added the link to my sidebar, but I’ve been loving the Crocodile Caucus. Not only do we seem to have shockingly similar taste in comics, he posted two savory cheesecake recipes that I’m dying to try. (I’m unable to resist the words “pumpkin” and “sage” when used in combination to describe food. One could also substitute “butternut squash” for “pumpkin.” I might be inclined to substitute pecorino romano or parmesean for the asiago, but that’s just because those are cheeses that more thoroughly fuse salt and fat. In other words, the platonic ideal of cheese, in my book.)

Andrew Wheeler ponders Batman’s sexuality at the Ninth Art, and he comes up with one of the more interesting responses I’ve seen to the “Is he gay?” question. As I read it, Wheeler basically takes a “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” approach to the argument. In other words, it’s ultimately a matter of reader identification. If a reader, for whatever reason, chooses to believe that Batman is gay, then it’s so for that reader. If that’s a reader’s specific gateway, then so be it.

Personally, as a comics fan who happens to be gay, I’ve never bought too far into the secret identity/closeted sexuality metaphor. I see the mechanical similarities (passing by day among the regular folk, revealing your true nature on your own terms, etc.), but it’s never really spoken to me. For me, comics are an escape, and I tend to view a closeted life as the opposite of escape. That particular metaphor is depressing to me. (Though I do love the ongoing hunt for subtext in the Queer Eye on Comics pieces at Prism.)

Thinking specifically about Batman, I think he’s too emotionally stunted and obsessed to have a sexuality at all. It’s one of the parts of his psyche he’s sacrificed or suppressed to pursue his crusade. If he were capable of forming that kind of connection with another person, female or male, he wouldn’t be who he is. Because, as I see it, optimism is an inherent part of sexuality, envisioning the partner who can make your life better. And that’s just not Batman, as I see him.

I liked the Warren Ellis-written episode of Justice League Unlimited that aired Saturday. The plot didn’t have much interest for me, dealing with the usual Ellis themes (“nanotechnology is potentially bad” and “super-heroes have an uneasy relationship with the regular people they protect”), and the whole “don’t underestimate the Atom” motif probably has one good episode in it (which JLU has already done). That said, the dialogue was often snappy, the action sequences were dynamic, and there was plenty of spot-the-hero fun. (When is the episode by Gail Simone going to air? I’ve been dying for that one!)

Oddly enough, I preferred the Teen Titans repeat, which is almost never the case. I enjoy this series a lot more when other teen heroes make guest appearances, so the presence of Aqualad and Bumblebee bumped it up. Seeing an upgraded Bumblebee was a particular treat. I always liked her D-list comics counterpart, in spite of her terrible motivation and the complete illogic behind her origin. The cartoon version is a versatile, smart, funny, independent heroine, and that’s always a treat. The writers and animators also did a great job of making an insect-themed super-hero look like a credible threat in combat, something comics often struggle to do. I like the contemporary character design a lot, too. Fun stuff.

There’s some discussion on Usenet over the latest Truth ad that’s shown up in comics. It features a pair of eyes that have been sutured shut, presumably by evil tobacco companies.

I’ve always found The Truth’s advertising annoying, not because of their intentions but because of their approach. As I see it, they take this position that deciding not to smoke is an act of anti-corporate rebellion. Any time a commercial urges its audiences to be an individual — by doing what the commercial tells them to do — my reaction rests somewhere between amusement and nausea.

When you factor in The Truth’s funding source — settlement money and mandates levied against tobacco companies — it gets even twistier. “Don’t believe what the tobacco companies tell you! Except for this ad, which they’ve paid for! Fight the power!” Bleh.

I’ve smoked on and off since high school, and I’d never recommend it as a pastime. I know perfectly well it’s unhealthy. At the same time, I don’t think anyone has ever found an effective message to discourage people from starting or continuing to smoke. I can’t imagine The Truth has, either, with their strident, self-conscious “edge.” (It seems like they could only effectively reaffirm a certain kind of audience’s decision not to smoke in the first place, honestly.)

I would love it if there were some way to measure response to efforts like this beyond focus-group reaction or anecdotal evidence. In my experience, the most common response to a Truth ad is, “I’ve never smoked in my life, but that commercial sure makes me want to start.”

Dorian at Postmodern Barney has some thoughts on the reaction, often negative, to authors from other media breaking into comics. He raises an excellent point about just what tier of the fame barrel these celebrities come from, but I’m not sure I buy his central premise on what the objections are.

I don’t know that there’s anger at the actual authors so much as at the publishers for the credibility grubbing that seems to pervade their marketing. It’s the “comics snag real writer” tinge of their promotions that bothers me, not interlopers from movies or television or prose fiction trying their hands at comics. And if that isn’t the actual thinking behind the hires, Marvel and DC’s press releases often seem… well… pathetically grateful.

And if this trend does, in fact, play off comics’ inferiority complex, as suggested by Paul O’Brien at Ninth Art, I think a certain amount of resistance to the tactic is healthy. If Marvel and DC present themselves as so excited at the arrival of a novelist or screenwriter, if they crow with delight at the snaring of a “real writer” (even if it’s a pose), isn’t there an implicit devaluing of the writers we’ve been enjoying all along? The ones who just write comics?

I agree with Dorian that it is a marketing tactic, ultimately, and probably doesn’t reflect a genuine value system for talent at either of the big two. (Also, Dorian is a comics retailer and interacts with readers a lot more regularly than I do, so there may well be a lot of “who does Meltzer think he is, taking jobs away from comic writers” sentiment out there.) But publishers do market a celebrity novelist who writes comics differently than they do even a celebrity comics writer. And it’s the mixed message of the marketing that I think is repelling some people.

And this doesn’t even get into the issue that Johanna at Cognitive Dissonance has brought up in the past: the skill set required to write a movie or a television show or a novel isn’t necessarily the same as the skill set required to write a comic. Ultimately, I don’t think readers are going to reject good comics based on the resume of the person writing them. (There aren’t enough for fans to have that luxury.) Novelist Greg Rucka is acclaimed for his super-hero and independent work, and screenwriter/television producer Joss Whedon is getting raves for Astonishing X-Men. I really think it’s the marketing that people find off-putting, not the incursion itself.

Preview pages of some of the… um… awaited What If titles from Marvel are up at Pop Culture Shock.

Michael Lark, fresh from a triumphant, critically acclaimed run on DC’s Gotham Central, begins his exclusive contract with Marvel by drawing… Brian Michael Bendis. No, seriously. Lark surprised Bendis by drawing him in as the narrator of What If Karen Page Had Lived? (This doesn’t stop one wag at the Bendis Message Board from uttering the particularly cutting, “How Byrne of (Bendis).”)

For What If Aunt May Had Been Killed Instead of Uncle Ben?, Ed Brubaker and Andrea DiVito chose as their narrators two clerks in a shop called “The Comic Cave.” One is significantly overweight. The other looks like Wild Child from Alpha Flight with the addition of really horrifying chin pubes. Geeks! Har!

I normally don’t order through Previews, but it seems like the easiest way to guarantee I can get new books by smaller publishers in a timely fashion. And, since I’m not a big fan of delayed gratification, I’ll give it a go.

I don’t think I’d have any problem picking up just about anything from DC or Marvel, but I will be reserving copies of JLA Classified 4 (the sequel to Formerly Known as the Justice League) and Seven Soldiers 0. February marks the launch of the new run for Runaways, which seems to be a six-issue limited series this time around. That’s disappointing, but I’ve got my fingers crossed that buzz about this title’s quality will be enough to give it a longer life.

There’s plenty of interest from Oni. The second volume of Scott Pilgrim arrives, and I’ll be picking that up, along with creator Bryan Lee O’Malley’s Lost at Sea. I’ve heard plenty of good things about Love as a Foreign Language, so I’ll try to catch up with that title. I haven’t read much by Andi Watson (just the first trade of Love Fights, which was okay), but praise for his slice-of-life titles has me interested in Little Star. (I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it doesn’t lapse into the stupid-dad/domestically-incompetent-male genre.)

Renaissance Press has another issue of Amelia Rules Superheroes, which is always welcome. Another all-ager, Top Shelf’s Owly, has gotten great reviews, so that’s a definite maybe.

On the manga front, Tokyopop tempts me with the first volume of The Tarot Cafe. I think the tarot deck can be a great prop for visual storytelling, and the pitch promises a wide variety of supernatural shenanigans. It’s a tough call, but I think Viz’s SOS will win out over Times Two. There’s something about the phrase “secret dating agency” that pushes my buttons.

For other trips through the truly baffling Previews, stop by Comics Worth Reading, Comic World News, and Ninth Art.

Catching up on some recent reviews that I’ve really enjoyed reading:

Johanna Draper Carlson, in her infinite wisdom, has declared Sgt. Frog a Comic Worth Reading:

“Join the Sgt. Frog army, and soon you too will share in the joyful call of Gero! Gero! Gero!”

Amen, sister!

James Schee at Reading Along hits smartly on one of the things I love about Hot Gimmick:

“It is a rare talent to have a lead character who you both want to shake and tell to toughen up, and also take in your arms and help and protect as well.”

The Pickytarian wistfully recalls the glory that was Alias, before it got botoxed into The Pulse:

“Imagine that: a fully realized, believable human being – and a woman at that – as a character in a Marvel comic. Bendis’ accomplishment of this feat stands as one of his greatest achievements.”

Tom the Dog is puzzled by the popularity of a wide variety of entertainments.

“There is very little in pop culture that makes me think, maybe we’d be better off without pop culture in its entirety (this is a pop culture blog, after all), but Paris Hilton and her ilk are right up there.”

Poor Paris. Wait… what the hell am I saying?

Shane Bailey is a sweetheart, finding the nicest possible way to say that I can’t keep my yap shut. I’m totally stealing “more opinions than you can shake a stick at” for my subtitle.

Shane Bailey at Near Mint Heroes makes an accurate prediction in his comments on JSA 62:

“There’s one scene in this book that I’m sure someone will call Johns out on though. I’ll leave that for them to do.”

Spoilers, ahoy.

The scene in question features the brutal murder of Stargirl’s stepfather, mother, stepbrother, and half-sister. They’re having a pleasant family breakfast when time-traveling villain Degaton sends a squadron of killers who promptly shoot the father in the head, off the family dog, pump a large quantity of bullets and death rays into the mother and stepbrother, and shoot the baby as she wails in terror.

And with that, we have the last Geoff Johns-written issue of JSA I’ll ever read. It’s not a matter of the appropriateness of the material for a super-hero comic, though that’s probably a fair question. It’s not even so much a question of the level of violence, which is the definition of gratuitous. (Shooting a baby? As she sits screaming in her high chair?) It’s the pure, narrative hackery of the moment.

It’s a time travel story, so the reset button is sitting there like a gun in the first act of a play. Johns can either use that reset button, restoring the happy family, or he can pull a switch-up, teaching us all another somber lesson about the cost of being a hero. For me, neither outcome would make the rest of the story worth reading because of the inherent artificiality of it all.

If the event is undone, Johns can pass it off as “uplift,” while still having the thrill of his bloody money shots. If the event stands, it’s just an extremely ugly float in the grim and gritty parade that increasingly defines super-hero comics, particularly those published by DC. It’s vulgar either way, a sequence so over-the-top and disturbing as to derail anything that happens subsequently.

Beyond this staggering bit of bad taste, there are other Johns tics in evidence. There’s the whole daddy-hero theme that’s taken such a pounding in this title (and in Flash). There’s also the standard Johns narration, which always sounds the same, no matter who’s delivering it. (Stargirl apparently has speech patterns remarkably like the Wally West, at least in captions.) And there’s the prospect of another “undo death” routine, already portrayed with Atom-Smasher and Hourman.

I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to pull this particular plug. Fondness for this set of characters is probably behind it. But I just can’t take it any more. It’s bad storytelling, and it’s offensive. Enough.

(And, yes, I realize I’ve shot my credibility all to hell with yesterday’s “I want to hate something” post. I swear it’s a coincidence.)