What I Dislike About...

Unresolved plot threads.

Although my long-standing disdain for this particular phenomenon extends to pretty much any blatant instance of such abject laziness in overall basic storytelling technique, it's only recently been brought back to the fore and generally exacerbated by my having read Marvel's cosmic titles - from Annihilation through War of Kings - in their near entirety.

In all fairness, it's not my intention to single-out comics as being somehow guiltier of this practice (or even necessarily doing so more often) than anything else presented via other types of media. To that end, I present the following example (one of several I can think of off the top of my head - and bearing in mind that I haven't watched this show for over a decade) from Babylon 5:

The through-line of the series (except for an unplanned-for fifth season - one wherein they received a new budget from TNT after the series finale had already aired, only for the now-renewed show to be constantly rescheduled and barely ever shown thereafter) is mostly a build-up to a war against an evil race of aliens known simply as "the Shadows" - with said war ultimately playing out during season four. Anyway, it's eventually discovered that the planet shown in the background of every medium shot of the titular space station is actually home to an ancient device of incredible destructive power.

It's just the kind of thing which might turn the tide of that aforementioned war! In fact, two entire episodes are devoted to securing the weapon, and restoring it to its former fully-operational glory. So it comes as somewhat of a shock when the war is finally over, and the realization sets in with the viewer... that this so-called "super-weapon" was somehow completely forgotten, and ultimately remained unused!

The mere mention of unresolved plot threads from Marvel's post-Annihilation cosmic titles probably brings one thing to mind most readily for readers: Wraith. Here was a character that was introduced during Annihilation's sequel storyline Conquest - one who even got his own self-titled mini-series - and he was intended to then function as part war veteran, part folk hero to his people (the Kree) immediately following the story's resolution.

Now imagine what it would have been like if Lando Calrissian hadn't shown up in Return of the Jedi... and he was never mentioned again. Yeah - dropping Wraith was kind of like that.

But lest you think that I'm unfairly beating up solely on the architects of Marvel's recent cosmic series - Giffen, Abnett, Lanning, et. al. - I actually wanted to instead focus now on something that's been bugging me ever since I read Secret Invasion: a company-wide cross-over event, albeit one with admittedly cosmic (re: alien) origins.

All the signs from an ancient Skrull prophecy - a legend which tells of the alien race successfully conquering Earth (and that, in and of itself, begs an additional question: Just how long have the Skrulls known about Earth, anyhow?) begin to come to fruition. And then, whenever something goes wrong throughout the course of the actual invasion that follows, the Skrull Empress almost immediately makes a comment along the lines of, "This too was foretold!"

Now, putting aside for a moment the many contingency plans that the Skrulls had in place long before this invasion had even begun (almost as though they were still unsure about the final outcome) - and somehow also ignoring the fact that, even armed with the requisite foreknowledge, the Skrulls dutifully went ahead and made the same mistakes that they surely must have already known they were going to make - and once you've slogged through this entire series, you're left with the following sad conclusion:

So the Skrulls' prophecy is seemingly one-hundred percent accurate - that is, up until the exact point where it turns out that [SPOILERS!]the Skrulls still lose.[/end SPOILERS!] And naturally, Brian Michael Bendis offers up no explanation as to why the prophecy upon which this invasion was so clearly predicated somehow manages to get the most important part wrong.

What I Like About...

War of Kings.

If the original trilogy was intended to be the story of Anakin Skywalker's redemption, then surely Marvel's War of Kings must represent the redemption of Crystal.

Granted, I've read the explanation given for Crystal's status as co-narrator in Spotlight: War of Kings - but still, I'd like to imagine that it actually went a little something like this:

"You know who sucks? Crystal."
"Yeah, really."
"So let's take Crystal... and make her frickin' AWESOME!"

Seriously, I went into this storyline all ready to hate Crystal. Now, as it is with anything in which Jack "King" Kirby had a hand in creating (whether that be in whole, or in part), the potential was certainly originally there... but it had since been completely squandered by massive mishandling on subsequent writers' parts.

This was Crystal prior to War of Kings, in a nutshell: 1. Married Quicksilver, Magneto's son and long-time member of the Avengers, and bore him a daughter; 2. Conducted numerous extramarital affairs, both before AND after the birth of said child; and 3. Divorced Quicksilver after the fact, using the flimsy excuse that because she's royalty and he's a lowly commoner, they never should have even been married in the first place!

Ouch.

But under the watchful guidance of War of Kings collaborators Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning, something wonderful happened: We were given unprecedented insight into Crystal's innermost thoughts and feelings, as they were occurring! True, any potential attempt at excusing Crystal's previous behavior was predestined to fail... so these guys didn't even try. Instead, they took a sort of 'from here on out' approach to writing her - almost as if to say, "That mess was all some other people's fault!" So what did we, as an audience, learn from this?

As re-imagined by Abnett and Lanning, Crystal has grown so much as an individual that she now truly cares about those in need - regardless of who they are, or how society sees them - entirely without any thought of herself. Meanwhile, her budding romance with Ronan the Accuser is truly heartfelt and honest - a fact that's readily apparent to most any reader who's ever been in love... and not at all the sort of forced and ultimately false relationship which one unfortunately encounters far too often in popular fiction!

Plus, you've gotta admit: When Crystal took control of that enormous stone statue, and had it mimicking her every move? That (and therefore, by using it in such a fashion against her enemies, she) kicked ASS!

What I Dislike About...

Waiting.

Having to wait for anything good in life just plain sucks. Honestly, has there ever been even a single moment in all of human history when someone actually said to themselves, "Boy, I sure am glad I had to wait so long for that thing which I really wanted," or other words to that effect?

What I Like About...

Kang the Conqueror (Part 1).

Given the benefit of hindsight equal to such a task, life seemingly has an odd habit of proving people wrong in the long run. And it is with just such an intention that I now post the following: Amongst the non- comics-reading public, Kang the Conqueror’s name is unlikely to ever attain a comparable level of recognition as widespread as that of Dr. Doom or Magneto. More's the pity, then, because I feel that Kang shares many of the self-same qualities which make Marvel's best villains all so memorable. The character exhibits a similar sense of majesty and grandeur, whilst also retaining that air of unspoken dignity in the face of tragic circumstances which ultimately renders him relatable to the reader.

Perhaps it is this aforementioned lack of a more general renown - both with non-fans, and sometimes seemingly even amongst Marvel's own creative staff (in regards to an almost criminal underuse of the character) - which helps to elevate Kang's status (in my eyes, at least) as something of an underdog. Nevertheless, to merely suggest that this character's back-story is both voluminous and convoluted, and simply leave it at that, would be a gross understatement. I'd be remiss in any attempt I could make to adequately summarize, in a more-or-less thorough manner, Kang's expansive history, extensive motivations and all his capabilities... Therefore, I'll instead try to focus on that one most-singular facet of the character which I personally consider to be the most fascinating.

Now as a fellow diehard fanboy myself, I understand all too well one's natural inclination to nitpick an article such as this for each and every incongruity and omission - but the constraints inherent to recounting, in text form, what is so fundamentally a visual medium (i.e. comics/sequential art) means that absolute, one-hundred percent accuracy in relation to the original source material was perhaps never even realistically achievable. Consequently, I must humbly entreat the reader to make certain allowances for whatsoever liberties I might take - whether inadvertently, or not - in the following retelling. In return, I shall spare you the headache of having to read about events which - in continuity - take place in the future, by referring to them using the past-tense (versus future-tense) instead.

In the 31st Century, Nathaniel Richards (distant descendant of the Fantastic Four's Reed Richards) lived up to the villainous epithet by which he is better known, insofar as managing to conquer the entire universe. Take a moment to fully consider all the implications of that statement: A lone human being subjugated - not just a single solar system, nor even a mere galaxy... but absolutely everything, everywhere.

And yet, even this was not enough. In what should have been his moment of greatest triumph, Kang instead lamented that his victory ultimately felt like an empty one. For although he now reigned supreme over all of creation, the one thing he had failed to capture... was the heart of the woman he loved.

What I Dislike About...

Writer's block.

I mean, why would anyone ever willingly go on a guilt trip... much less one which is self-imposed? And yet, isn't that exactly what we as writers so often do? In our minds, the self-incriminations are two-fold: We lament our momentary inability to simply conjure up worthwhile new content and/or summon only the best words possible, whilst also condemning ourselves for expending precious time and energy on anything other than our specifically-chosen creative endeavors!

What I Like About...

Marvel 1602.

Neil Gaiman's 1602 introduced a whole host of new storytelling grist for the figurative mill from which Marvel's writers and artists can draw upon: classic characters, re-envisioned through a filter of having originally been intended for the 'sandbox' backdrop of the year 1602.

And although that alone is incredible, in and of itself, it is not what I wish to focus on today.

If I might be given leave to do so, I'd like to preface the following statements by admitting that the pragmatic fanboy in me (now there's two words I never thought I'd see used together) well realizes that the actual rationale behind the following phenomenon was to facilitate Gaiman's literary 'shout-out' to Jack Kirby, by way of Devil Dinosaur (in lieu of the Mole Man's monster).

One of the more curious aspects of the hypothesized alternate history given by 1602 is the continued existence (albeit in greatly-diminished numbers) of prehistoric animals - dinosaurs in particular. It is presented as a universally-accepted fact - common knowledge amongst society at large, and not at all thought of as being in the least bit strange...

So how are there still dinosaurs - and why? Gaiman makes nary an attempt at offering up an explanation... but really, isn't it obvious?

They're there simply because dinosaurs are cool - and that (and, by extension, Gaiman) rocks.

Venting to the void:

It used to be that Facebook was both a legitimate and permissible forum for all of my catharses. If I'd had a bad day, felt under-the-weather or so forth, I'd just pop on over to my account and post about the same in convenient, bite-sized chunks.

And then all of the sundry workplaces and various higher-learning facilities of this world seemingly started policing the internet in its entirety for expressions of honest opinion and pure thought.

So here I am, using an assumed name - shouting my ultimately insignificant concerns into an uncaring electronic wind.