To Try

A Few Words On Spider-Man and Marriage

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Allen) — Sun, 13 Jan 2008 21:37:00 +0000

One of my most vivid childhood memories is of waking up Christmas morning at my grandparents house in Bowling Green, Kentucky to find 4 sets of Underoos displayed across the fireplace mantle. I was ecstatic. Green Lantern, Batman, Boba Fett, Spider-Man. The latter was, hands-down, my favorite. I would have liked nothing more than to BE Spider-Man. Underoos were the closest I could get.

Spider-Man had it all, cool powers, weird villains, a sense of humor, an everyman relatabilty, and after 1987, when he jumped the broom with childhood friend/supermodel Mary Jane Watson, a beautiful wife. He was completely enviable.

Not surprisingly, considering my childhood ardor for super heroes, I spent my teen years completely immersed in comic books. It was a hobby with a high price, and not only monetarily. Let's face it, reading comics is not cool. No matter how many literary geniuses endorse it, no matter how many blockbuster films get made, no matter how many TV shows legitimize the idea, no matter how complex and artful the comics themselves are, you will always be a loser if you like comic books. Even at the height of my obsession I would see these 30 or 40 something men in my local shop (Metropolis Comics in Bloomington, Illinois, long gone) and think, "God, I don't want to turn into them."

I could just picture myself, with a loser-ish hobby, an inability to appeal to women and a fear of many many things, easily sliding into that life.

I unceremoniously gave up comic collecting in 1999. Throughout college, my comics obsession had been competing with a similarly passionate affair with pop music. At age 22, music finally won decisively, and I didn't even mourn the passing of my other hobby. Afterall, my new interest was more acceptable, relatable and grown-up. I was in no danger of arrested development, only listening to Arrested Development.

A couple of years ago, I began to slowly revive my interest in comics. Like a newborn, it was small and fitful at first, but it has grown steadily. Almost simultaneously, I've found another love. Wendy and I are getting married in May. I've mused on the timing of it all. Is being in an established relationship in any way related to the sudden resurgence of my childhood hobby? Is the stigma gone now that I'm no longer in danger of being a single loser who reads comic books? I never consciously used such reasoning, but I wouldn't deny under oath that it was a factor.

Where am I going with this? It's strange to me that as I take the next steps in life, my once favorite hero is taking steps backwards. As of issue 545 of The Amazing Spider-Man, Peter Parker and Mary Jane are no longer married.

Some background: Marvel Editor-In-Chief Joe Quesada (a comic artist himself) is firm in his belief that Spider-Man should not be married. In various interviews he has stated that he believes the marriage prevents the comic from being a true soap opera, limits the writers, ages the character and makes him less marketable to kids. Similarly, he was adamant that Spider-Man should not get divorced, as it would create negative press and send the "wrong message" to kids.

His solution? In a story meeting, creators decided that Peter would, to save his beloved Aunt May (accidentally shot by a sniper aiming for Peter) make a deal with Mephisto, Marvel's version of the Devil. The deal? Peter and Mary-Jane give him their love and marriage and Mephisto saves 80-year-old Aunt May's life. How this lazy, ridiculous idea ever made it past the brainstorming stage, I'll never know.

No matter what you think of Quesada's rationales (I think they're crap: 1. Nothing hinders good stories except bad writers and over-controlling editors, 2. The character, while happily married, has gained a higher profile than ever before in his history, and 3. Don't even get me started on his divorce logic) and no matter how the deal went down, the big question is actually very much a real-life question. It's growth vs. arrested development. Do you let Spider-Man continue to mature and change as a character, or do you stall him forever at a certain point at his life?

Recent pop culture has been playing on this theme quite a bit. The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Scott Baio Is 45 And Single all gave us man-child protagonists struggling to grow up and eventually realizing the futility of neverending adolescence. Now, of course, maturity is not a prerequisite for marriage. And getting married no more grants someone maturity than staying single grants someone an interesting life. But this is a case of a character who had ALREADY grown up regressing.

In the first issue after the magical dissolution of his marriage (which he no longer remembers, by the way), we see Peter Parker living in his aunt's house, riding his bike to work, mooching off of his rich friend Harry, and dealing awkwardly with affection from various ladies. It's arguable that this set-up creates more interesting stories, but there's no doubt that those who have followed Spider-Man from his beginnings as a high-school nerd to a married, confident science teacher should feel robbed.

Consider for a moment DC Comics' the Flash. There have been 4 men to hold the title, but the current version (and my favorite) is Wally West. He's the nephew of the second Flash, Barry Allen. Wally gained his super-speed powers as a young boy and took on the mantle of Kid Flash. He joined a team of fellow kid sidekicks (the Teen Titans) and grew up with them before taking over as the Flash after Barry Allen's death. Through the years we've seen his character change and grow. He continually bettered himself as a person and hero. He gained a deep understanding and mastery of his powers. And, yes, he got married! Besides being good storytelling, there's just something special about being able to witness that, about being able to follow the same character for so long and through so much.

Despite what Joe Quesada believes, good storytelling is not about standing still. He's right that comics are essentially soap opera, but he ignores that good soap operas have to allow for change. Otherwise there's no reason to care about anything that's happening. Otherwise, nothing that happens is ever of any consequence. Quesada and the creators who spear-headed Spider-Man's regression should know that this sort of move is the exact reason why comics have such a poor reputation, both as literature and as a hobby. If the creators don't respect their own characters or readers, why should anyone else?

Cooler heads have pointed out that things always seem to eventually return to status quo in comic books. Even death rarely sticks. There's a chance that Marvel has plans, or will eventually decide, to restore the marriage. Afterall, a deal with the devil rarely goes as planned.

Until that happens, I can't see the end of Spider-Man's marriage as anything but a terrible development. Look at it this way: There was a time when I would have traded lives with Spider-Man in an nanosecond. No longer. With things the way they are now, he'd be getting the better end of the deal.

Puzzling Over Failure

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Allen) — Mon, 03 Dec 2007 15:42:00 +0000

I've been on a lucky streak lately, but it wasn't always this way.

I'm no stranger to losing. I'm well-acquainted. In fact, for awhile, I was getting tired of his company. My junior year was the apex. At that time, I endured a series of setbacks that when retold in succession would put me in the running to win me a rent-controlled apartment. Among them: That spring I applied to be a resident adviser in the dorms. I had been sure and assured of getting the job. Then I was flatly rejected. Nearly concurrently, my heart was broken for the 19th time, by a girl I shouldn't have liked anyway. She started dating a friend of mine instead.

We've all seen the drawing of the frog in the crane's mouth. We've all heard the Chumbawumba song about getting back up after falling down. We've seen the Dwayne Wade Nike commercials, too. No doubt there's something noble in remaining resolute, despite multiple failures. But that nobility, at least in sports, history and fiction, is reliant on eventual success. And we all know, it doesn't always come.

That junior year, 20 years old, I had nearly had enough. I had always been a reluctant risk-taker, and now I was in danger of giving it up altogether. And then, on a placemat in a pizza joint, I read the story of H.R. Puzowski.

Puzowski was a 17th century Polish inventor who despite constant, crushing failure, never gave up. Legend has it that he lived on perogies in a rickety shack, spending a modest family income only on inventing. Lore says he created over 6,000 inventions, none of them famous, useful or successful. Prototypes and sketches for the Electric Rubber Ducky, Sandwich Maker and Inflatable Pencil verify that his failures were not unjustified.

But it was the Automatic Picture Framer that led Puzowski into the immortality of grease-stained placemat legend. Now, you may be thinking to yourself, 'I've never heard of the Automatic Picture Framer!' No worries; I'd be surprised if you had! That's because the failure of the Framer led to the lone success of Puzowski's life.

It was the winter of 1689. He had spent many months working on the Framer and was finally ready for a trial run. In theory, the device would mount a picture on heavy board, trim it, add a thin pane of glass and then assemble a frame around the edges. Puzowski had chosen one of his favorite photos, a scene of 5 Pembroke Welsh Corgi puppies frolicking in a field of daisies. But, as was usual for his inventions, something went wrong. The picture was mounted without difficulty, but the trimmer went haywire, cutting jagged swaths through the photo. When it finally stopped, the machine upturned itself and crashed to the floor. The puppies and daisies were in approximately 1,138 odd-shaped, scattered pieces.

But, as you could probably guess, H.R. Puzowski's mama didn't raise him to be no quitter. He still believed the Framer could work, so he set about preparing it for a second trial. And he loved that Corgi picture so much, was determined to repair it. Though initially in a foul mood, he soon found himself delighted by the challenging-yet-leisurely activity of putting the pieces back together.

By now you know where this is going. Puzowski had created the world's first picture puzzle, and it would go on to delight children and shut-ins around the globe for years to come. And this success came out of sheer drive and determination, with a dash of stupidity thrown in. Puzowski lived a long time after, and he continued to fail long into his late 70s. Life was not as easy to solve as one of his addictive puzzles. It rarely is, for anyone.

The poet John Keats wrote: "I was never afraid of failure; for I would sooner fail than not be counted among the greatest." H.R. Puzowski was far from the greatest at anything. He's not even history's biggest failure. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from his example.

Homophones Heir Concerns With Strike

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Allen) — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 18:08:00 +0000

Siting frequent misuse and unfare treatmint, representatives of the National Association of Homophones (NAH) announced a strike Tuesday. Several words once available in the vast English language will now bee out of circulation four an undetermined amount of thyme.

"This is a massive problem," said Dr. Thomas Yonk, a professor of letters at Sesame University. "I don't no how I'm going to grade all of these English 101 papers. Their bad enough without this setback." Book publishers are likewise fretfull. An employee of Puffin books who wished two remane anonymous commented, "Don't they sea what this is going two do two us? Kids are going to be reeding our books and learning the wrong dam words!" Many other businesses our expected two sea negative affects, especially the hare care industry.

No one nose how long this strike will last, butt experts are predicting at leased six two nine months. "We need two tow the line four awile," says Ian Hogglestooth, Bored Chair of the National Association Of Words (NAW). "This is knot only about equal opportunity for Homophones. Their our hurt feelings hear. Saying we're sari is the first step in the write direction."

It's likely the strike will have little affect on e-male and texting, wear bad spelling is all butt status quo. Likewhys, speechwriters, politicans, TV news anchors, and actors were unphased by news of the strike. Homographs of America (HOA) spokespeople said, "We don't get what the big deal is."

Though reaction is mixed, everywon agrees this is an unprecedented occurrence. When, indeed if, the strike comes to a clothes, expect big changes. Rumor has it that the Homphones our already working on a Bill Of Writes that includes the dictum "All Homophones were created equal, and should bee used as such." There's even talk of alternate pronunciations, which would affectively end the Homophone as we no it.

"It's going to be a reel battle," Hogglestooth predicts. "The English speaking population has maid their bed and now they can't pen the blame on anywon else." He adds ominously, "If the Homophones are wrestless, the Synonyms can't bee far behind. It's in hour best interest to keep them happy and content, or we'll all have trouble, distress, woe and misfortune."

The Idiom: Yesterday's News

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Allen) — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 21:35:00 +0000

The use of idioms has spread like wildfire lately, and it's not a pretty picture. To my eye, it's crystal clear that idioms are holding writers back. Unfortunately, the cure is not as simple as taking two and calling me in the morning.

The first order of business is to get to the root of how and why idioms have become the talk of the town. The blame cannot fall squarely on the shoulders of the writers, because everybody and their brother knows a cliche can sneak up on you and make itself at home. Writers often give up the fight because using idioms is as easy as pie. If they aren't paying close enough attention, writers might even labor under the delusion everything is right as rain, but all that glitters is not gold.

Of course, many idioms have a nugget of truth within, but we must not let that fact lead to them becoming too big for their britches. Just off the top of my head I can think of myriad reasons why idioms are bad to the bone. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to realize that rampant use of idioms makes readers' minds as slow as molasses in January. And is it just me, or are most idioms older than dirt? I'm sure your grandpa's grandpa knew what "no skin off my back" and "by the skin of his teeth" meant, to those of us in the here and now it's just gross. This weird obsession with skin is holding us all back.

Even my good friend Joe, who's not the sharpest tack in the box, tells me: "Idioms are not the bee's knees. I wouldn't be sorry to see them go the way of the buffalo."

One cannot overlook the occasionally offensive nature of the idiom. Think of the dogs, will you? They are loyal to a "T" and often serve as our best friends. One dog, speaking on the condition of anonymity, told me there are a lot of canines who are hot under the collar about all the slanderous idioms directed their way. What, exactly, is a "dog day of summer" they wonder. Why does it rain cats and dogs? Why does a person get "dog tired" or "sick as a dog"? My source even claims that dogs really don't mind if you bother them while they sleep. One idiom the dogs do enjoy is "there's more than one way to skin a cat" though that gets back into all that skin business. All the dogs ask is that we stop dogging them.

Other figurative language has repeatedly denied their relationship with idioms, even though it's as plain as the nose on your face. "To us, overuse of idioms is like cooking using mediocre ingredients," said the head of the Simile Board of Trustees. "We have boxes of unused, high-quality similes stacked as high as the clouds. Instead of hearing 'smooth as a baby's bottom' a million times a day, what about a 'smooth as an old man's head' thrown in there somewhere?"

The hot-headed folks over at Metaphor Incorporated issued the following terse statement: "We hope the idiom has reached its twilight." The International Hyperbole Organization was similarly short of breath: "We've told our writers to cut down on their idiom use at least a billion times." Personification Today held a lengthy press conference on the matter. I won't give you the whole story here, but suffice to say that the reporters' chairs sighed with relief when it was all over.

If there is one silver lining to this cloud, it's the fact that there are still a select few who buck at convention. As long as there are writers committed to shaking things up, writers who are giving it their best shot, there is still reason to believe. Me personally, I'll start using idioms when hell freezes over. There's no way on God's green earth you could get me to use an idiom. This may seem like a devil-may-care attitude, but my conscience is clear. I sleep like a baby at night.

My advice to all those aspiring writers is as simple as 1,2,3: Avoid idioms like the plague.

Love = Fear

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Allen) — Thu, 02 Aug 2007 01:32:00 +0000

It was a large gathering - the kind hotel ballrooms were made for, and the kind that no one seems to enjoy - where I encountered a philosophy that has come to define my thinking.

I was there representing the American Cancer Society; it was a convention about smoke free ordinances, and the man speaking was from the Restaurant and Bar Beverage License Holders of Minnesota 1 . He was bravely (considering his audience) arguing against limiting the use of tobacco in eating and drinking establishments. This is what he said: "The way I see it, you can make decisions out of fear, or you can make them out of love."

It stood out to me because it wasn't the usual message-wheel bullshit both sides were constantly reciting. But I didn't quite understand the context. Was he saying those who wanted to prohibit smoking were acting out of fear? Sure they were. They were scared of getting cancer. But weren't they also working out of love? Love for the employees who had to suffer the second-hand smoke? Love for the health of family and friends? And was this guy's organization any better? Sure, he could say that they were being positive, just letting people make their own decisions. But I'm guessing fear of losing smoker business was a bit more of a factor in their opposition.

Even if it was an odd and ultimately flawed way to make a point, you can't deny that this guy had stumbled upon a definite truth. Have you seen those bumper stickers that read, "Love > Fear"? I like the idea, but I think the truth is closer to "Love = Fear".

The superhero Daredevil is billed as "The Man Without Fear". The character is blind, and yet performs feats of acrobatic crimefighting. But with his extra radioactively-induced senses he's not really risking that much more than you or me. And anyone who has read his stories, knows Matt Murdoch is not fearless. Green Lantern, on the other hand, is portrayed as a truly fearless man. In fact, that lack of trepidation is what led him to be chosen to wield the magical ring that gives him his powers. Recent stories have explored what kind of man really has no fear, and what kind of decisions that would lead him to make. So far, it doesn't seem his life is all that much the better for it.

So is being fearless something we should strive for? Buddhist belief says that suffering comes from desire and attachment. Aren't those just other forms of fear? Fear of not getting what you want? Fear of losing what you have?

We all know people who have gotten more conservative as they've gotten older. The saying goes, "If you're under 30 and a Republican you have no heart. If you're over 40 and a Democrat you have no brain."2 Funny stuff, but seriously, what would explain such a drastic change in views? Does accumulated life experience make everything narrower? Or is it the fact that as one gets older one gets used to the way things are, and therefore has more to lose?

While we're on the topic of Republicans, the current Bush administration has made the best use of fear since Marty McFly pretended to be Darth Vader and got George to ask Lorriane to the Under The Sea dance. The terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001 presented the perfect opportunity to get everyone whipped into a frenzy. The administration played on every fear of losing our safety. And it continues six years later. What was the justification for attacking Iraq? They've got weapons of mass destruction! What is the justification for staying there? If we leave the region will destabilize and democracy will stop its march. 3

I'll admit, sometimes fear is fun, like a good scary movie, or when you pretend someone is following you up the stairs and you try to race them into the apartment and close the door before they can get you. And, of course, fear is necessary. If you were fearless, what would stop you from driving drunk, 90 mph on school days when children are present? What would stop you from eating that furry cheese you forgot was in the dairy compartment? Some fear is necessary for societal order and safety. Some fear is just plain old good sense.

But should it inform our lives the way it does?

We put fear into many guises. Jealousy is fear, a fear that someone likes someone else more than you or has something better than you, a fear that you'll never have it as good. Worrying is a less-intense, more constant form of fear. If I worry about being late, it's because I fear the consequences. I'm scared of making my friends wait, of missing the beginning of the movie, or getting in trouble with my boss. Nervousness is the same thing, maybe a precursor to worry, but definitely related.

Fear is the great character test. People will make wonderful or horrible decisions in the face of it. Consider the mother who risks her life to save her child's. Consider the high level executive who covers his own mistakes regardless of who it affects. One could even argue that religion is sought out of fear, fear of meaninglessness, of loved ones being gone forever, of no life after death.

At the same time I think about what that man from the Restaurant and Bar Beverage License Holders of Minnesota said, and how his point was so easily obscured.

Could it be that there's not really a difference between decisions made out of love and decisions made out of fear, that it's all in how you justify it to yourself? Consider the example of religion. Is it really a search for something to make you less scared, or is it a search for love? What about life insurance? Is it fear of your family having nothing, or loving them so much that you want to provide for them when you are gone? And watering the lawn? Is it fear of an ugly brown yard, or love of a lush green yard? These are fine lines.

And nearly everything is like that, when you break it down to the fundamentals. Take the ultimate fear: Grim death. Yes, we fear it because it's the end, because it might be painful and because we don't know what comes next. But we also fear it because we cherish our life and the people in it, and we can't bear to lose that.

If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

1. An approximation of the actual name.
2. I guess ages 31 - 39 get a free pass either way.
3. Wait, didn't that already happen? Oops!