The Evil Petting Zoo

I was a bit busy yesterday, so I wasn't able to get around to talking about Libby. And I will later. Trust me. But right now, I'd like to wear a hat I haven't worn for a few months: that of the angry comics blogger.

If you've been paying any attention at all to the comics industry, you'll know that Marvel has been running an event for the past few months called Civil War. The entire event was written by Mark Millar, who is the last person I expect to handle things in a sensitive fashion. It started out like this: when a group of young superheroes attacked a group of D-level villains, one of them exhibited powers on a level none of them had ever experienced before and ended up killing most of the supergroup... as well as 600 suburbanites, including a good number of children. Outrage grips the country, and the federal government insists on having superheroes register their identities so that they can be held responsible. Tony Stark, Iron Man, is in favor of registration, supposedly because he wants things to go smoothly with the government, and he believes superheroes could use training from an "official" source. Captain America is against the registration, afraid that it will lead to a gigantic loss of civil liberties for everyone. But as the story starts, they seem to be on equal footing, and both sides seem to have good points.

Then things get really fucking weird. SHIELD, the Marvel Universe's extranational police force/spy agency, starts forming "capekiller" forces to track down and violently subdue unregistered heroes, driving Captain America and members of his side underground. Iron Man and Reed Richards (a.k.a. Mr. Fantastic, one of the Fantastic Four) introduce an extradimensional Guantanamo Bay for unregistered heroes that, depending on the book you read, is either a) a gilded cage, or b) a hellhole where the only escape is suicide. Iron Man clones Thor in an attempt to give the pro-registration side legitimacy, which horribly backfires when the cloned Thor kills Black Goliath (to add insult to injury, Black Goliath is then buried in a tarp and chains, because no one-- including the scientist who came up with particles that could shrink matter, who is pro-registration-- could think of something more dignified). The federal government picks out a group of known supervillains-- some of them notoriously psychopathic, like the Green Goblin, Venom, and Bullseye-- and starts training them as the Thunderbolts, a new superhero team. So, obviously, the pro-registration side is starting to look like a merry bunch of fascists. All the while, however, Millar is making heads explode by insisting that he would support Tony Stark, as would people in the real world.

Then comes Civil War #7, the final issue. The anti-registration forces have managed to break all the heroes out of the extradimensional prison, and are fighting the pro-registration heroes in the streets of Manhattan. That's when Captain America starts to notice the collateral damage--

--and gives up, throwing his mask to the ground and ordering his side to surrender.

That's right. The man who fought Hitler gives up because a few buildings get damaged. But it's conceivable. After all, he can always fight another day, on a ground where people are less likely to get hurt.

Then comes Civil War: Frontline #11. In this sidebook, two journalists have been researching Tony Stark's involvement in the fight, and found out that he managed to nudge the Atlanteans into military action against America, so that there might be a reason for government-trained heroes. Then, after the battle in New York, those two journalists track down Captain America, and... you know what? Fuck it. I can't even describe it, it's so mind-rapingly stupid. Go and read it yourself. Go on. I'll wait.

...you're back, aren't you? You just read the part where the reporter calls Captain America, the man who fought Hitler, the man who has always served America, its constitution, and its interests, obsolete and useless. Why? Because we're focused too much on pop culture effluvia to give two fucks about the state of our nation!

Oh, and those two journalists? They then visit Tony Stark and tell him what they know. And then they tell him that they're going to sit on the story. Why? Well, because Tony did the right thing, and the ends justify the means.

If you can't understand why I'm so angry, let me explain: I have always viewed comics as an escape. As a window into a world where the good triumph, and the evil fall. Where ideals are more than ideals, but embodiments. Where Captain America really represents America, even when America is twisted and perverted by those in power. In an age where the US government is systematically trying to redefine torture, of all things, I turn to comics for a better world.

And here I am, being told by Millar and Marvel editor-in-chief Joe Quesada, that this is a better world. Heroes have been imprisoned, former heroes have turned into Machiavellian villains, psychotic villains are being held up as heroes, Captain America is being called pointless to "our modern world" (gee, sound familiar?), and this is a good thing.

And now, the final insult. Today, the newest round of comics go out. And in his own book, Captain America meets his end. And here's what Joe Quesada has to say about it:

"He hasn't been living in the modern world and the world does move," says Marvel Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada.

Quesada said he wanted to readers find their own meaning in Cap's end.

I could visually depict what meaning Quesada is trying to get across, but Blogger doesn't like it when I link to Goatse. So, let me give you a verbal equivalent:

"America, the idealized version, is dead. Screw the land of liberty. Screw the stand for what is right. Now, you just do whatever you can for safety, even if it means fucking the other guy over. After all, it's what the people in power believe, and when have they ever been wrong?"

So, in summary, fuck you, Quesada. Fuck you, Millar. Fuck you, Paul Jenkins, who wrote that long steaming coil of dialogue in Frontline. Fuck everyone who played a willing part in this abortion to make a heroic world downright villainous. One day, sanity will return, and maybe then, I'll return to the House of Ideas. Until then, I'll just be reading the titles that don't crap on my idealism, and remembering the words of Squirrel Girl:

"I remember the day when comic book worlds were places you wanted to escape to. Not from."