Borders is having a manga and graphic novel sale. Buy three, get the fourth free. (Okay, so I didn’t really need four more volumes of the stuff to read, but fiscal responsibility crumbed in the face of 25% off Fake, Imadoki, Iron Wok Jan, and Kindaichi Case Files.)

It was a good weekend for reading manga, too. I spent some very enjoyable time with Sgt. Frog Vol. 4 (James Schee has reviewed it at Reading Along). I also sat down again with Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, and I realized that Christopher Butcher is right. A second, more meticulous reading heightened everything I liked the first time and brought everything together more clearly. (Christopher is also right about Iron Wok Jan, so he must be right about Paradise Kiss, too. The manga industry might as well just hold me upside-down and shake me until all my money is gone.)

My partner teaches design and has come across a series of books he really likes. One of them looks at manga, so I’m hoping I can con him into buying it as research material.

Aquaman #22 has caused a serious malfunction in the parts of my brain that govern suspension of disbelief. Why? Well, it’s embarrassing, but I’ll just come right out and admit it.

It’s the sushi.

For those of you not following the title, a portion of San Diego has fallen into the sea. Its citizens have been converted against their wills into water-breathers (which is better than drowning, they admit, but it’s an adjustment). And, as this issue indicates, their diet now consists largely of sushi.

Sushi. Bite-sized combinations of fish, rice, and vegetables. Prepared underwater.

Now, parts of this hang together. Obviously, raw fish is an entirely reasonable foodstuff for people who live underwater. It’s abundant, it’s easily obtained, and it provides a good deal of nutritional value. The uncooked presentation also spares the Sub Diegans from having to worry about things like directional heat or developing stoves and ovens that function underwater (without electrocuting anyone or losing any worthwhile cooking heat to a significantly colder, heavier “atmosphere,” or heating the surrounding water to such a degree that it actually cooks the cook). Sushi is often wrapped in nori, a processed form seaweed, and seaweed would also be abundant if used in its unprocessed state. (Nori would actually just reconstitute and fall apart if left in water for too long, I would think.)

But, on the very first page of the issue, some of the sushi on Lorena’s plate seems to have rice in it. How, precisely, would someone prepare rice underwater? I would think the individual, uncooked grains would drift everywhere, even if there were a reliable way to transfer them from an air- and water-tight container into a cooking vessel, and then you’ve still got the whole functional stove question. Even if you prepared the sushi rice on the surface, then transported it underwater, the sticky consistency would be compromised by the sea water. You wouldn’t be able to shape it. (I told you this was an embarrassing train wreck of thought, didn’t I?)

My clearly fevered brain goes on to wonder about the logistics of getting a plate of sushi – small bites of fairly light food – from the food preparation area to the diners. Okay, the plate would become essentially a fixed object subject to the forward motion of the server carrying it. The sushi, as best as I can figure, would still be subject to the resistance of the medium – salt water at high pressures – through which it moves (unless you fixed it to the plate somehow, which doesn’t sound particularly appetizing). The same problems would apply to the method of preparation, chopping the individual components into small pieces. They’d drift all over the place. I’d lose my mind. (For those of you who just started a thought with “Um, dude, hate to break it to you, but”, I already know.)

Lastly, in the dreaded sushi panel at the bottom of page one, I cannot possibly see what I think I see. That surely isn’t a bowl of soy sauce for dipping beside Lorena’s platter of food, is it? Because that would be just plain stupid. It would work in, say, Spongebob Squarepants, which is supposed to be charmingly absurdist, but… it’s an open bowl of liquid surrounded entirely by liquid! (Brain… hurts… so… much…)

Sometimes, Aquaman asks reasonably interesting questions about how humans would adapt to life underwater. There’s the interesting bit about the illegal drug trade developing designer drugs to cater specifically to Sub Diegans who can’t rely on the traditional means of ingestion (such as smoking and snorting).

This sushi thing is moronic, though. And it forces me into public displays of total geekery. Again. Some more.

(Comments contain spoilers.)

The Pulse has gotten off to a bit of a slow start, introducing its cast and establishing its premise in the first five-part arc, “Thin Air.” This issue’s conclusion is a rewarding wrap-up, though, blending action and character development with a promising focus on the book’s newspaper setting.

Jessica Jones, failed super-hero and private investigator, has joined the staff of the Daily Bugle as a consultant for its new special section on super-heroes. Jones and Bugle reporters Kat Farrell and Ben Urich are investigating the murder of one of their colleagues, following leads on the victim’s last story.

It’s a fraught situation, not simply because a co-worker has died violently. The trio’s inquiries lead back to Norman Osborne, a powerful corporate figure and the psychotic Green Goblin. Previous investigations of Osborne, including Urich’s expose of his villainous secret, have led to a serious reversal of fortune for the Bugle. The stakes are high, both personally and professionally.

Most of the issue is devoted to Osborne’s deadly meltdown. With his secrets exposed, he goes on the offensive, forcing Spider-Man to intervene. Jessica, believing the attack has caused her a terrible personal loss, goes on a bit of a rampage of her own. Her lover, Luke Cage, picks up where she left off. It’s a sequence of action set pieces, and it plays to artist Mark Bagley’s strengths.

As solid as all that is, the meat of the issue is the closing sequence at the Bugle. Having worked as a reporter and editor at daily and weekly newspapers, I’ve been eager to see how that setting plays out in The Pulse. Its role in the title is satisfyingly complex and reflects contemporary issues in a satisfying way.

Conceived as a muckraking thorn in Spider-Man’s side, Bugle publisher J. Jonah Jameson gets a much more layered portrayal here. He’s still a bit of a dinosaur, but he’s clearly portrayed as having the public’s interests in mind. It galls him to pander to public fascination with super-heroes by creating the special section, but a changing business landscape for dailies forces him to adapt or fail. And the sting of Osborne’s crippling lawsuit against the paper lingers, especially since he knows the Bugle got the story right.

As the newsroom gathers to watch television coverage of Osborne’s capture, Jameson springs into action. He reminds his staff (and readers) of the things that a daily newspaper can still do in the face of twenty-four-hour cable networks and Internet outlets. Hopefully, the commitment to depth and complexity of coverage that Jameson espouses here will continue to be a part of the fabric of the tile; it could open up a whole range of interesting stories, much in the way Alias did with private investigation and Gotham Central does with the police procedural.

Writer Brian Michael Bendis does a very nice job of creating individual voices for his characters. Jameson has his trademark bluster but without some of his traditional excesses. Spider-Man’s customary quips fly, and Cage is suitably tough and taciturn. Supporting characters like Jessica’s doctor and Osborne’s lawyers get vivid, personalized dialogue. The variety gives great texture to the storytelling.

I’m still not entirely sold on Bagley’s pencils. His action sequences are terrific, as I said, but the quieter moments can seem a little static. I’m glad to see that his rendering of Jessica is matching up a bit better with Michael Gaydos’s design from Alias. She’s getting some of her rougher edges back and losing some of the pretty princess sheen she had in earlier issues.

If The Pulse continues to fold the challenges and complexities of contemporary journalism into its stories, this could become one of my favorite titles. With the carefully established Bugle setting, it can give an interesting perspective on the Marvel Universe.

I love it when writers blend humor into super-hero comics. It can provide a nice counterpoint to high-stakes adventure and humanize larger-than-life characters.

Judd Winnick tries rather strenuously to achieve this in Outsiders 15, and the results range from flat to painful. Hence, here’s a completely unnecessary joke-by-joke analysis of the issue. (Needless to say, this will contain spoilers.)

Page 3: The Fearsome Four have come into possession of a stockpile of nuclear weapons and are debating possible targets.

Jinx: I vote for Paris.
Psimon: You always say that, Jinx. What is with you and France?
Jinx: It ain’t just me.

First of all, the “I hate France” joke is sufficiently old and ubiquitous to be pretty tinny. Secondly, this particular “I hate France” joke seems to want to have its gateau and eat it too.

It’s vague enough to be open to interpretation. It could be viewed at a dig at the kind of people who consider “Freedom Fries” a reasonable response to international discord. Or it could be taken at face value: “Who doesn’t want to blow up France?” So it’s not just dated, it’s hedging.

After a bit more brainstorming, Psimon offers the following: “The whole point of this is not to be flashy, or to make a political statement of any kind.”

He dribbles a bit about logistics, and then we come to the punch line on page 4:

Jinx: You want to blow up Canada?
Psimon: I really do.

While not as bewhiskered as “I hate France,” “Canada is bland” has also passed its sell-by date. There’s also a lot of jabber between the set-up and the closing that doesn’t do it any favors.

This is immediately followed with an example of “the fake-out,” a conversation that seems to be about one thing but isn’t. Nightwing and Arsenal, airborne and in pursuit of villains with nukes, seem to be talking about a missed bathroom break. This doesn’t come across very clearly, largely due to the given circumstances, but Winnick has Shift clear it up on page 5: “They can’t be talking about using the john, right? The Pequod has a very nice toilet back here.”

It explains the joke, but as someone once said, explaining a joke is like dissecting a frog. You learn something, but the frog doesn’t make it through the procedure. Add to this the fact that Shift’s line could just as easily have gone to Indigo, who has a history of misinterpreting human behavior and of being overly literal. (It still probably wouldn’t have saved the joke, though. “The fake-out” generally works best in the other direction; you think they’re talking about stolen nuclear weapons, but they’re really just trying to find a toilet.)

Moving on to page 6, where the Fearsome Four is finalizing their target selection. Having already set up the France/Canada conflict, he misses the obvious follow-up, Montreal. (It’s French-Canadian! Everyone wins!) Vancouver is chosen instead.

Page 7: Shimmer: “Dr. Sivana used to give those handouts.” It’s a nice mental image, certainly, but it’s wedged into the sequence for its own sake. And it isn’t funny enough to merit the intrusion.

Things move along fairly smoothly until page 10, when we begin the “post-feminist humor” section of the issue. Arsenal starts it off by saying Jinx looks like “a 16th century Middle Eastern hooker.” On page 12, he explains to her that “psychotic meta-human bald chicks” don’t rate chivalry. (My guess? Jinx shot him down at a singles’ bar.)

There’s a tired joke at a man’s expense, too. In this case, it’s a sight gag. Grace is enduring a pounding from Mammoth, who bellows that “no @#$% woman is gonna hurt” him. Grace responds by racking him. This almost could have worked; it’s a reasonable enough tactic, going for the tender spot on a thick-hided opponent. But Winnick doesn’t trust the pencils to make the point, so Grace sums it up: “I think your ‘boys’ might disagree!” Ow.

Peppered throughout the concluding fight sequence are a number of pop-culture-influenced nicknames. Shift calls Shimmer “Elvira.” Grace calls Mammoth “Grizzly Adams.” Jinx calls Indigo “Smurfette.” I begin to suspect that VH1’s “I Love the ‘80s” is de rigueur viewing in DC’s meta-human community.

On page 20, the jokes turn a different kind of meta. Shift has survived a run-in with a nuclear warhead, and a relieved Indigo leaps into his arms. Shift: “Um, so does this mean that unspoken ‘thing’ we have is done?” Odd question, considering that she has her legs wrapped around him when he asks it. (And I think part of my brain died when I tried to come up with a list of all the movies that have featured the “happy girl jumps into arms of presumed-dead hero” sequence that’s swiped here.)

Dr. Sivana’s provided the bulk of the effective comedy in this story arc so far, mostly by subverting expectations. (His “Threatening Three” line a while back was probably the best in the series so far.) The twist ending follows through on that, and it’s nice that he gets a little epilogue on page 22. Unfortunately, it’s partially spoiled by Winnick over-articulating the gag: “What’s the point of being a mad scientist if you don’t have a tropical island lair?” Wordy, obvious, and a little too meta for my tastes.

It’s still a puzzle to me how Winnick, who’s written one of the funniest things I’ve ever read, can fall so flat when it comes to super-hero titles. But I wish he’d lay off the jokes for a while.

In comments on another post, Jon was wondering about the critical response to “The Life and Times of Wonder Woman.” Here are some links I found:

• The New York Times review (free registration required)
• TheatreMania.com review (scroll down)
• New York Metro.com review

It’s probably sacrilege, but Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, by manga and anime legend Hayao Miyazaki, isn’t really working for me. I find the world Miyazki has created engaging, and the central premise is intriguing, but something is keeping me from connecting to it.

Part of it might be that I find the visual storytelling difficult to follow at times. More than once, I’ve found myself lost during an action sequence. That said, the images are often lovely when taken individually, and there’s a nice kinetic feeling, particularly when flight is depicted. But I’ve found the character designs to be a bit indistinct, too, which doesn’t help me track what’s happening.

I’m still enjoying Hot Gimmick, Miki Aihara’s tense, layered soap opera. I just finished reading volume six, and one thing that really struck me was Aihara’s ability to maintain a high level of drama even though the plot only moves incrementally forward. It’s not about big events or revelations so much as the cumulative effect of small moments, either from the present or buried in the past. (Johanna Draper Carlson just updated her Hot Gimmick page at Comics Worth Reading.)

Fake is still at the top of my list of guilty pleasures. As a police drama, it’s still a total wash. As a sexy, romantic adventure, I haven’t found anything to top it.

One thing disturbs me, though. Each volume (I’m up to the fifth) features a story about Carol and Bikky, teen-aged charges of hot cops Ryo and Dee. They’ve finally found some friends their own age, Lai and Lass. But Lai and Lass are crossover characters from another manga, Ra-1! The idea of crossover characters in manga is completely dischordant to me. Dear manga industry: please don’t do that. Love, David. (I kid. I think.)

Yu Watase continues to explore the power of words in her elegant, supernatural Alice 19th. I’ve heard a lot of good things about Watase’s latest work, Imadoki, where she forgoes mysticism for… horticulture? I’m game.

After disappointment (with Clamp School Detectives) and delight (Case Closed) with manga mysteries, I can’t wait to try Kindaichi Case Files. Johanna says it’s Manga Worth Reading, and that’s always a good predictor that I’ll enjoy it. And, hey, Greg McElhatton over at iComics likes it, too!

The fifth season of Amazing Race is shaping up for a nice conclusion. I could live with pretty much any of the remaining teams winning. (You can catch up with the around-the-world fun here.)

While I can’t stand Colin (he’s creepy) and find Christie troubling (due to her tolerance for creepy), I can’t deny that they’ve raced like champs. My favorites are Chip and Kim, who are Colin and Christie’s polar opposites in terms of healthy interpersonal dynamics. (They also race pretty well, all in all.) Linda and Karen appeal to me simply because they’re having so much fun. As devoutly religious reality show contestants go, Brandon and Nicole are surprisingly tolerable. They also make me question my agnosticism, as surely only divine intervention could have gotten them this far. (No stereotypes about models are being broken here, let me tell you.)

As for the recently departed twins? About time their shocking incompetence caught up with them. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out, and please feel free to take your Bad Girls of Field Hockey shtick with you, okay? Thanks.

The thing that I like best about this show, and the reason I think it’s developed such a loyal fan base, is that merit actually plays a role in the outcome. Certainly luck can be a huge factor, but teamwork, planning, and fearlessness can move you to the front of the pack. And while relationships get focus, it’s in the context of how relationships can help or hinder teamwork, not the creepy, voyeuristic approach of other shows.

Speaking of other shows, the producers of Survivor have decided that we just can’t get enough Rupert. Despite decisively losing the show twice, he’s been brought in as some kind of “advisor” for this year’s contestants. I can only assume that he’s meant to serve as some kind of negative example, as he’s yet to demonstrate any pronounced accumen in anything but fishing.

The upcoming season will apparently take place on volcanic islands. No word yet as to whether losing contestants will be offered up as sacrifices, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. The new season debuts Thursday, Sept. 16.

The Apprentice gets a one-week jump on the grubby island-dwellers, focusing instead on meticulously groomed island dwellers (specifically, Manhattan). Come for the aspiring corporate weasels; stay for the inimitable cool of Carolyn Kepcher.

First, a timely reminder from Savage Critic: new comics arrive Thursday. One of the Savage ones, Jeff Lester, also reveals a haunting encounter with first-person marketing. It’s a convincing argument in favor of Caller ID if ever I’ve seen one.

Shane Bailey looks back at a short-lived great, Chase, at Near Mint Heroes. It’s the first in a series highlighting comics that deserved longer runs.

At Polite Dissent, Scott fears that the Identity Crisis body count is already higher than we suspect. (Watch out, Rainbow Raider!) With this, Scott can be forgiven for digging up one of my worst comic memories.

Are you feeling adrift in these troubled times? Do you wish you could ask a near-omnipotent, other-dimensional despot for guidance? Matt Maxwell feels your pain, and he’s found just the fellow to help you out. In other words, “What Would Dormammu Do?”

DC finally does something to boost one of its most original books, Fallen Angel. They’re giving away free copies via a complex mathematical formula. (And, no, I won’t pass up the opportunity to remind you of Johanna’s most excellent Fallen Angel contest, which ends today, 9/8/04, and requires no algebra to enter.)

Since elegant segues are the monkey on my back, let’s look at the books that are coming out tomorrow! Why, it’s Fallen Angel #15! Let’s see what else is here… District X #5, Gotham Central #23, She-Hulk #7… wait, surely there must be at least one comic by… ah, there they are… Powers #4 and The Pulse #5. (I think Johnny Bacardi is right about Powers.)

Last but not least, the phrase “because you demanded it” subjects itself to further scrutiny with this announcement.

In the latest Lying in the Gutters, Rich Johnston chronicles the ongoing flap about who knows more about the upcoming Superman movie, and Fanboy Rampage chronicles the flap about Johnston chronicling the flap.

So, what’s your point? Slow news day?

Not really, because something weird is lurking around the edges. From Johnston’s item:

“I understand that Harry Knowles’ sources are very close to Bryan Singer. And, I’m told, that Bryan Singer has a particular theme in mind regarding this film. As an openly gay activist, he’s wanting to give the world a new young gay role model, and is looking to employ someone who is either openly gay or closeted gay, who’ll come out during publicity for the movie. Superman itself can also be seen as an allegory for closeted homosexuality (and is also the topic of a superhero comic project I’m working on called “The Glamour”) and Singer wants to add that meta-textual element to the movie. As of yet, Singer has not plumped for any actor over another, though many are being considered.”

Well, that’s… interesting. Has Singer left a hugely successful super-hero film franchise with a glaringly obvious oppressed-minority metaphor built right in to try and tease one out of a much more iconic super-hero film franchise?

I’m always happy to hunt for sexual identity metaphors in super-hero comics, but I’ve never had the energy to trawl through a Superman comic for them. Maybe that’s because I find him to be incredibly bland. The mechanics are there (“passing” at work, flamboyant and empowered in his private moments), but I’ve always signed on for the “Superman is the ultimate immigrant” theory and left it at that. (Of course, the closet-case construct would go a long way towards explaining his psychologically sadistic treatment of his “beard”, Lois, at least prior to their marriage. Twisted queen! Don’t make her carry your baggage!)

Then there’s the question of the potential effectiveness of this scheme. Does someone automatically gain “role model” status for young gays and lesbians by playing a bland, heroic icon in a summer blockbuster, then offering up their sexuality as part of a publicity stunt? (Or, maybe the question I’m asking is should they?) Honestly, half of America probably already assumes gay people are playing their summer movie action heroes.

Don’t get me wrong. I wish we lived in a culture where a person’s sexual orientation couldn’t hinder their professional success. (Which is only logical since… hi!… gay here.) And, obviously, the entertainment industry is notoriously conflicted about these issues. And, sure, it would be terrific if gay kids had more people they could look up to without having to decode any messages or metaphors. I’m just dubious as to how well this plan would work, if Singer has concocted it at all.

And the most important question hasn’t even been broached: will Singer lure the sublime Sir Ian McKellen away to play Jor-El? I need answers, people!

That’s what Randy Lander thinks of the upcoming issue of Fallen Angel, and he’s given it a rating of 10 out of 10 in a first-look review at The Fourth Rail. More importantly, he’s given me another perfectly organic opportunity to mention Johanna’s Fallen Angel contest, which ends tomorrow, Sept. 8.

(The fools! They’ll never realize that my linkblogging contains powerful subliminal messages! Wait… is this thing on? Crap! Click.)