



My girlfriend and I recently decided that the new Watchmen movie would be too dark and violent for her delicate sensibilities (she’s such a sweetie!), and since she’s out of town and my other plans for the evening fell through, I think tonight might be a good time to go and see it. By myself. Oh, the trouble we nerds get into when left unsupervised!
Speaking of Watchmen, I just read a great article at Slate by Grady Hendrix entitled, “Watchmen Failed: The revolution it was supposed to inspire—comics about ordinary people—never happened.” It’s about the history of the Watchmen comic, the intentions of its creators Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, its ongoing influence on superhero comics and the problems with Zack Snyder’s film adaptation. My one complaint is that the title of Hendrix’s article can only be considered correct if one completely ignores the history and existence of alternative comics, which began (some argue) with the publication of Gilberto, Jamie and Mario Hernandez’s Love and Rockets in 1981, preceding the publication of Watchmen by five years and inspiring a revolution of comics about ordinary people that did happen. In his article, however, Hendrix limits his criticism of comics to superhero comics, so it’s quite possible that some editor chose the title for its inflammatory, rhetorical value, rather than for its honesty. And as I’ve shown in the past, the titles of Slate articles, like the covers for superhero comic books, don’t always accurately represent their contents. Anyway, here’s the money quote from Hendrix’s article:
[. . . A]rtistically, Watchmen came and went, and the promised revolution in comic-book storytelling never happened. [. . . Instead it] became to comic books what The Sopranos is to TV: an intellectual fig leaf concealing the vast wasteland of Two and a Half Men reruns.
Ain’t it the truth.
Also, now that the Watchmen soundtrack is out, I see the powers-that-be chose to ignore my song suggestions. The pussies. Seriously though, “Unforgettable,” by Nat King Cole, “The Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garfunkle, and “I’m Your Boogie Man” by KC and the Sunshine Band for the soundtrack to a movie based on one of the most violent, grim and depressingly existential works of fiction of all time? And “The Times They Are A-Changin’”? Really? You couldn’t have gone for Dylan’s “Isis,” or at least “Masters of War”? The only song that seems a good fit is My Chemical Romance’s cover of Dylan’s “Desolation Row,” in which the band does a credible imitation of a hardcore punk band. What is up with My Chemical Romance, anyway? Their last big song, “Welcome to the Black Parade,” was a credible imitation of a Queen song. Hey, The Aquabats could be derivative, too, (and derivative of Queen, to boot), but they never made it so big. I guess they should’ve gone with Emo instead of Ska.


1998. From a photo of Dr. Seuss reproduced in Life’s Legends: The Century’s Most Unforgettable Faces.
According to Clean Cartoonists’ Dirty Drawings by Craig Yoe, Dr. Suess, who was born Theodore Geisel,
[. . . C]ut his cartooning teeth on the humor magazine at Dartmouth College, the Dartmouth Jack-O-Lantern. Geisel eventually became the editor-in-chief. A prohibition-era drinking party thrown by Ted got him thrown off the magazine, and banned from all extra-curricular activities. Ted started using the nom de plume of Seuss to circumvent the administration from prohibiting his cartooning.
So if anyone starts using the good doctor’s name in vain, remind them that the Seuss got his start fighting for your right to party.
And if you think that’s interesting, check out Craig Yoe’s new book, Secret Identity. To be released this April, the sub-title explains it all: The Fetish Art of Superman’s Co-creator Joe Shuster.

1998.
[…I]t strains belief
How an instant can dilate
Or long years be brief.Dreams, which interweave
All our times and tenses, are
What we can believe:Dark they are, yet plain,
Coming to us now as if
Through a cobwebbed paneWhere, before our eyes,
All the living and the dead
Meet without surprise.
Richard Wilbur, “Anterooms.” The New Yorker, 5 January 2009.
Amanuensis –noun. A person employed to write what another dictates or to copy what has been written by another.