Taking the Initiative

In trying to fix the last few questions on my thesis, I was supposed to have a meeting with another member of the Biology faculty. I managed to get the idea today to just track him down myself and I got lucky. We talked about the problems I'd been having and I found out that there wasn't a solution to be had on this campus.

Still, I was given some contact information to hopefully get some answers. I sent an e-mail, and, a few hours later, I got a reply.

It's great to get answers. I really wish the answers amounted to "It can't be done." If this one thing can't be done, then I've been finished since last week. I don't mind doing things right, but I don't want to have the system force procrastination on me. I do enough procrastination by myself.

Why I Hate Infinite Crisis, Part 7b

--Note: Read Part 7a before reading this.--

As I said, I've read Crisis on Infinite Earths now. It's definately not something to read in a single sitting. There's a massive amount of characters, and a massive amount of growth. It's a long road from issue 1 to issue 12.

It is epic. It feels epic on every panel of every page. Something its "sequel" didn't do after issue 1. I think it's because everything important happens in Crisis, but everything important with Infinite Crisis happens in another book. Also, the way that the villains act in Crisis is how I thought they would act in the sequel: bad guys trying to take advantage of a bad situation.

Basically, I'm going to make a few important notes about how the two compare and give my final opinion.

Most importantly, just reading Crisis on Infinite Earths, there isn't really a way for there to be a sequel. I'll put this one off to the side to address other questions.

Alexander Luthor (Leotard Boy):
In 1985, he's a do-gooder. He's committed to saving the universe/multiverse from destruction. He can identify trends and probabilities, but he can't firmly make anything happen. He uses his intellect to save Earth-2 Lois Lane because he realizes there will probably not be a multiverse when they return from the beginning of creation. He even practices heroic sacrifice.
In 2005, he's... evil. He can, with the proper equipment, exactly manipulate the formation of a multiverse. Having seen all the problems associated with such an event first hand, he does it anyway, even though, he was exactly opposed to it before. Personally, his depiction is out of character at this point.

Superboy-Prime (Cosmic Crybaby, Anti-Monitor-Prime):
In 1985, he's another gun to shoot at the Anti-Monitor. He's a kid version of Silver Age Superman (who is the worst hero ever created). Very much into heroic sacrifice.
In 2005, he's a goody-two-shoes convinced he's right and everybody else is wrong. Guess that's what you get for being a verson of Silver Age Superman. Then he changes his inspiration to the Anti-Montior OFF PANEL by building armor based on this design. Evil and stupid.

Anti-Monitor (Monitor):
Mysterious in 1985, a cruel methodical force of nature, bent on destroying the positive matter multiverse so the antimatter universe can grow to encompass all. Later, bent on destroying all life. His body is disintegrated along with the majority of Qward and the antimatter universe.
In 2005, his corpse (see above) is part of the machine Leotard Boy uses to do his thing.

I point these notes out because a hero can only be as good as his villain. As villains, these guys suck. They are dumb villains, a problem compounded by the fact that I don't know who the hero of Infinite Crisis is. In 1985, the singular hero was Alexander Luthor, since it starts with his infant flight from Earth-3.

I know there was the Secret Files book, but that is still a book that is off panel--not part of the ongoing story. Choices, decisions, and actions make heroes change into villains. If we don't see these things happen, then something's wrong with the story.

If DC was set upon making a sequel, they did get right that the villain(s) would come from the pocket dimension; the Anti-Montior prophesies as much at the end of Crisis. "Superman, I will not die until you die with me."

As such, here's what they should have done with those characters somewhere around issue 7: An odd current of antimatter spews out of Alex Luthor and flies into the Cosmic Crybaby, transforming him into a reincarnated Anti-Monitor. Then Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman beat the shit out of him, followed by Earth-2 Superman doing... pretty much what he did, die.

Final verdict on the whole thing--Infinite Crisis was not executed properly. They demonstrated they could deliver exactly what they said they would, the proceeded to produce something substandard and hope people would be suckered along for the rest of the ride. Reading the predecessor didn't decrease my opinion. Instead, it showed me bigger holes in the story. By itself, Infinte Crisis is firmly below average.

Why I Hate Infinite Crisis, Part 7a

As a few of you have noticed, it's been a while since I've written one of these. Part of that is because about 90% of the problems (and more of my personal problems) were addressed at the end of Part 6. This finale will deal with the state of the DCU after issue 7 of Infinite Crisis, as well as how it works as a sequel to Crisis on Infinte Earths.

Two weeks ago, I was given a slipcased hardcover of Crisis. With such a gift, you owe it to those who gave it to you to read it. As I have just finished reading this book, I'll be supplying my thoughts based on it now as well. --Will Len change his mind about Infinte Crisis or is he to stubborn to adapt? Read on to find out!--

Infinte Crisis #7 turned out to be the standard slugfest that comes at the end of most of these big crossovers. As a whole, when this happens, the book stops being about the story and becomes totally consumed with people hitting things. This was no different.

"Look, we decided to throw in The Society so the heroes could get together and hit something!" The Society had already been dealt with to its fullest extent: it was an easy way to build the Anti-Monitor machine, capture its heroic fuel, and trap Black Adam. They had done that and were quite effectively written out of the main story. Also, Doomsday will never kill Superman again, so he'll never be scary again, but that's almost a separate rant.

I liked that Batman had a confrontation with Leotard Boy and almost used a pistol to kill him. I like that Wonder Woman told Batman that Leotard Boy wasn't worth killing. Breaking her sword, especially since it's one of the few keepsakes of her loved ones, made little sense. Personally, I think she should have dropped it and it not shatter, or she could have just sheathed it. Either gets across the same point.

"Superboy-Prime is flying off into space. Everybody that can fly after him, breathing be damned!" Last I heard, very few DC heroes could break Earth orbit, much less survive in a vacuum. And since the venue of the final battle was changed from the Anti-Monitor machine ruins to Metropolis (so all the heroes could get together and hit something), there had to be some exciting final battle, so a space chase was whipped up.

I thought the "Thin Green Line" was pretty cool. Thematically, I don't get why Power Girl didn't attack Superboy-Prime with the other present Kryptonians. A lot of effort was taken in Infinte Crisis (and not JSA Classified #1-4, which Geoff Johns owes me $10 for) to make Power Gilr seem like she was one of the main characters. Thus, in my mind, main characters participate in the big showdowns, but not here.

THE LAST PAGE. I hated that last page for one simple reason--it's not over. After reading seven months of build-up and seven months of execution, the big, all-consuming story isn't over. One thing about these big crossovers is that the villains are so bad that killing them is the only way to stop them. And now fifty Green Lanterns at a time have to leave their home sectors to babysit a cosmic powered, world-juggling crybaby. What a rip.

Scoring of Inifinte Crisis: I'm going to use an odd system here. For each issue, I'll give an individual score, then develop an average based on that. The possible scores are 2 (Great!), 1 (It's OK.), and 0 (This sucks!). I'll give the issue number, a brief statement on it, and the score. And I've also taken the time to read the entire miniseries start to finish as well.

One: This is the best issue of the series. It was undoubtedly the beginning of "the worst day in the history of the DCU." The JLA was broken, the heroes divided, the villains united. Magic was out of control, and the galaxy was at war. A killer satellite was after everybody's blood, and refugees from worlds long dead were let loose. This issue was everything Infinte Crisis was said to be before it began. It delivered on its promises. I still love it. Score--2.

Two: What the hell is this shit? Where did the characters from last issue go? I don't care about these stupid Crisis people. Score--0.

Three: I get it, the Crisis leftovers are supposed to be hot shit. What happened to the DCU that I was reading two months ago? Score--0.

Four: This is thematically the worst issue of the series. I'm sick and tired of the tired old leftover Crisis people. Can we have Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman back? Can we have back everything from the build-up? Why did they have to make all the build-up a structured plot? And when the hell did they beat the Spectre? Score--0. (At this point, had the build-up not been so good, I would have stopped reading for sure.)

Five: Hey, this is starting to turn back into what I wanted to read. What the fuck is up with this Earth-2 Wonder Woman? Guess Geoff Johns doesn't read every book in the DC library. Score--2.

Six: Kickass! The heroes are going to whoop some Brother Eye ass. I don't get the use of "eye" instead of "I." Stop trying to be cute and just write the damn book. Score--2.

Seven: Rushed art, dry confrontation, and it's still not over. Ugh. Otherwise, good. Score--1.

Final Score: 7 out of 14. 50% Luckily, I'm using a collegate scoring method and Inifinte Crisis gets a D.

Yo-Yo Mentality

I'm on an incredible high point. I'm on an incredible low point. I'm on both at the same time, so I'm mostly mellow.

I'm on a high point because, over the weekend, I got to see just what a lot of people think of me. As I've been saying lately, I "pretended to graduate" on Saturday. It's pretend because there's the small matter of my thesis still remaining. I just have to clean up some data, type, defend, and I'm done. Got about 2 months to do it in, too.

I know what these people think of me because they demonstrated it, not just said it. My family said they were proud of me; they showed up and put on a bit of a celebration. My friends arrived to take part in the celebration and support me and the Cackler (who graduated Cum Laude). Even the illustrious Ken Murphy played a small, but very surprising part.

To have made it through the Master's program, short of one thing, is quite an accomplishment. Not a lot of people can do it. Most people can't or won't even start it. It's a rare thing. I think that's why I caught myself smiling no less than twice yesterday.

But there's also that low point. That frequently frustrating teaching assisstantship--gone. It's over with. I've turned in my keys and cleaned out my office. I am a teacher, in that sense, no more. Bad part is, I've collected my last paycheck as well.

I'm no fool. I'm looking for work since the bills won't pay themselves. I haven't really had a lot of luck so far. There's no clear direction for me to look in, so I'm just following whatever leads I can find. I followed one lead so far, but that led me to something that looked like a pyramid scheme, not a job. Still, I'm not beat yet.

"What about writing?" you may ask. There's not a great deal I can do with it at the moment. I'm still developing Unnamed Horror Novel and I don't want to commit a lot of time to most of my other projects until I'm very, very close to done with my thesis. In short, writing is on hold for the moment.

I am rediscovering that third gear I mentioned a while back. I'm on the edge of Thesis Mode once more. Between thesis, looking for work, having pretended to graduate, and a few other things, I haven't got much to spare. But I'm not crumbling, not yet.

Audience Perception

I was having that "what people think of Superman" conversation with Jeff again. I guess I'm a masochist in that regard. Still, I did have an interesting thought of two because of it.

My thought was about the relevance that an audience's perception has to have on a project. Does it matter? How can it--or does it--change things?

In the example of Superman, most people think that Superman is so powerful that one or two punches will take care of just about anything. Also, Superman is supposed to be the absolute best and no one will ever be better. And this is all true of Superman... twenty years ago.

As I've said previously, Superman doesn't bleed, or at least not nearly enough to really be a hero. That doesn't say he can't bleed, editorial just doesn't let him.

Truth is that for several years, editorial policy has been to focus on the "man" instead of the "super," since that's where he's weakest. Could this be a play at the perception of Superman being way too powerful (such as the Silver Age)? It's possible.

Now the direction seems to be that he's got an impressive power set, but part of its effectiveness is that he can figure out, in normal, intelligent terms, how to use that power set. That doesn't mean he can't get his ass handed to him, it just means that he can either endure or avoid most ass beatings. I'm cool with that.

I tried to explain why I liked this to Jeff. "Tried" was the key word, of course. His perception was, at least initially, that I was attacking Superman.

So I ask (and hopefully not rhetorically), what is the significance of an audience's perception? Also, what set of perceptions do you have to play to?

Unnamed Horror Novel

That's what it's called right now, that idea I've been excited about for the past week. As of today, I've finished not one, but two drawings of characters to be used in this project.

Before I show them off, I should explain why I did this. It's a matter of perspective and detail. I'll know a lot of times what the basic structure of a character or a location is, but I'll lack the descriptive focus to put it into words. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Also, pictures give me a sense of the character's attitudes and personality. This can be physical, mental, or both.

First up within the story is a creature I'm currently calling a slicer.


This lovely thing was once human, I think, but now it's a thing that is very brutal and freaky. One, it's naked, but you won't have to worry about seeing its junk, you'll be too busy running from it, praying to get out alive. The biggest danger comes from it's hands and feet, which are long, bony knives. And I should point out its head; no eyes, minimal ears, lots of fang-like teeth, and external nares in its palate (read: nostrils in the roof of its mouth). Fun!

To use terminology from Unbreakable, a slicer is a "soldier" villain, so there has to also be the brilliant archnemesis to deal with. In this case, it's the following unnamed Brill'Que.


That thing floating next to her head is her control helmet, which I'll tell you more about at a later date. The important things to point out here are the small details of her costume. The soles and heels of her boots, along with most of her belt and some parts of her dress (?) are made of human bones. The fabric for the costume, in fact, is leather... human leather. The laces of the costume are woven hair. The designs on the skirt and sleeves are roses on thorny vines. This is a depiction of life and beauty, but also has a distinct image of danger thanks to the twisting thorns.

The elements that I've maintained in this picture are her soulless, emblazened eyes and her choker. The choker is the casual way one could identify a Brill'Que--they never take them off. The eyes, well, that's just an easy way to make her look sexy evil.

Thoughts?