Wednesday, September 22, 2010


Strictly speaking, I don't read comic books anymore; I occasionally read graphic novels, which are sometimes made up of stories from particular comics, and I enjoy the live-action and animated films put out by DC and Marvel. However....
There's nothing like going into the local candy store, or drugstore, or wherever, and seeing new comic books on the racks. Even if your favorite titles aren't in sight, you're inspired to dig through the racks until you find them, or the counterguy says, in an exasperated tone, "Hey, this ain't a gonna BUY sumthin'?"
The bright colors. The title logos. The cover art, sometimes having nothing at all to do with the story inside-this was what dimes were for, to buy these gems of fantasy and wonder, crafted just for you. The tingly thrill of pulling each desired title from its niche, wanting to read them right there, but wanting to wait until you reached the comfort and privacy of your room or favorite space. Savoring each story, cheering inside as the hero defeats the bad guys, saves the city, or the world, or maybe just the girl, and still managing to keep his secret identity intact.
Comics have changed a lot, and I fell off the merry-go-round at some point. The animated versions of DC's heroes and Marvel's live-action films seem pretty close to the characters I lovingly read for twenty-five years, fallen, flawed people with the desire to do good, and to uphold justice, not by concensus or committee, but by simple, basic right and wrong.
That, it has always seemed to me, is the way to go.

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