Wednesday, November 30, 2022

We shouldn't... right?

Thinking back on the collapse of SFX and the many, many, many other things lately that are running amok (meaning: stupidly) in our society, I am coming to the conclusion that we have lost the voice of the grown-up in the room. That would be the voice of sanity and reason, the one who stops a bad idea in its tracks by saying, "That's a bad idea."

Or maybe even, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but allow me to explain why that's a bad idea."

That voice seems to have gone silent, or has just been drowned out. 

I'm sure you can think of many examples. I have a dumb example for you, but I think it's pretty on-target. 

Maturity is not something one thinks of when the topic of comic books comes up, but compared to what we see in the comics and their stories in other media now, the past eras of the form show that at least once upon a time there were some adults somewhere along the line. 



Undoubtedly the high-water mark of the Lee-Kirby era in the 1960s at Marvel was the three-part Galactus saga. Galactus the planet-eater was such an awe-inspiring menace, so massive and impersonal, that he isn't even seen on the first issue in which he appears (above; that big guy is the Watcher). They built up to the danger, and did it slowly, When Galactus is seen -- gigantic, brutally powerful, completely uninterested in the planet and its people he intends to consume, and utterly beyond any power even superheroes can muster -- it's a shocking reveal.  

I heard Kirby once at a comic convention -- back when the whole thing fit on one floor of a New York hotel and no one dressed up -- talk about this famous storyline, how he first created the cosmic Silver Surfer, the herald for Galactus (he gave Stan Lee no credit, by the way). Kirby said he realized that if this Silver humanoid was like Gabriel, the herald of God, then he would have to create a god for the Silver Surfer to serve. And that was the unstoppable, unappeasable, implacable Galactus.

I hate to spoil a 50+ year old comic book, but the only way the Fantastic Four can save Earth in this one is by being given a deus ex machina -- the Ultimate Nullifier, a tiny weapon that inspires fear in Galactus himself. It was one of those classic "I swear I'll blow us all to pieces" moments that comic book readers of the era would not have expected. The good guys always outthought or overpowered their enemies, or both, but against Galactus there was nothing that could be done but use a weapon of ghastly power, even if it meant collateral damage of the highest degree. Galactus agrees to leave and not threaten Earth again if the Fantastic Four turn the weapon over to him. And you can trust him, because even Kirby's villains have their own sense of honor that they will not offend ("So swears Doom!"). 

So it probably would have been a good idea to let Galactus be for a decade or so after that. But of course, Marvel couldn't; the trilogy had been too good for sales. Fans wanted more Galactus! So the next thing you know, Galactus was back on Earth looking for his herald, or Thor was off in space looking for Galactus, or Galactus was back for a second bite of the Big Apple, and so on and so forth. And yet for a long time, even while not always the most powerful entity in Marvel's pantheon, Galactus was treated with great awe.

Then the new kids started writing books. Guess who defeated Galactus more recently?


Yep, Squirrel Girl.

Now, I don't want to pick on Squirrel Girl; there's always been room in the comics for lighthearted characters. That's how they got the name "comic" in the first place, as reprints of newspaper comic strips. And SQ has some genuine superpowers -- leaping like a squirrel, climbing like a squirrel, talking squirrel talk, and I guess the proportional strength of a squirrel. 

But you know someone in the edit room one day said, "You know who Squirrel Girl should fight....?"

"Who? Doctor Doom? Ha ha ha ha."

"No... Galactus!"

Much laughter -- then, silence. Then, "Seriously?"

"Yeah... Why not?"

"Nah, we shouldn't."

"Yeah... But why not?"

"Because he wouldn't even notice she was fighting him!"

That last line was what the mature -- or mature-adjacent -- person in the room would have said, but these people don't exist anymore. Instead it would be...

"Okay, so how's she gonna beat him?"

"She'll... she'll talk to him. Lookit, he's probably lonely, right? Been around as long as the universe, even longer, actually, and everyone's always mad at him. Wah, you stole my boyfriend to be your new herald. Wah, you ate my home planet. Wah, you parked your humongous ship on my house. He needs a friend!"

So, good-bye awe, hello the first buddy Galactus has had in 14 billion years. The might G-Acty reduced to a 1980s episode of Strawberry Shortcake

(And don't even ask about Galactus's daughter....)

The problem is that this kind of thinking doesn't just happen in comic books. It happens everywhere. It's happening in boardrooms and banks, funeral planners and hospitals, palaces and churches. Not one idea however stupid gets defenestrated; instead they get adopted. No one knows how to say no to something that sounds cool, or at least different, no matter how horrible it is. They're afraid of missing out on the next Apple, or Google -- or worse, at the chance to be further out into politically proper insanity so they can look back over their shoulders at their fellows with contempt. 

This is how jaded people who don't believe in anything bigger than themselves behave. It's especially fun for them when they're playing with your investments or your nation or even your faith in God. They aren't at all afraid that someone will say, "That's that idiot who believed in SFX crypto! That kids under 10 should have puberty blockers! That Jesus technically was trans, and that BDM teddy bears with little children should sell clothes! That what people ought to have in the movies is more wokeness, good and hard!" 

And why would they fear it? The others whose opinion they care about are just as idiotic as they are and believe in all the same things. 

Every time you see something like this in the world, you know once upon a time someone would have told them to knock it off long beforehand and explained why. 

My argument today was going to go from the ridiculous to the sublime, but nowadays it's just ridiculous to more ridiculous. For more outrage at the behaviors of our societal titans, you can't do better than Andrew Stiles in the Free Beacon last week. I just wanted to add my two acorns, as Squirrel Girl might say. 

3 comments:

  1. There are few adults in the room nowadays, and they quickly get shouted down. I'm afraid the fun has only just begun.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Speaking of adults acting like children, when my older kids were little, I bought them a Galactus figure that was about ten inches tall. It had a button on the chest that alternated between two things: Galactus saying "I hunger"; and a sizzle of power accompanied by a flashing light inside the toy. The kids liked it well enough, but I had the most fun with it. By the time they were old enough to appreciate it, the sound and light had stopped working.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Heh -- I (probably it's obvious) don't mind adults acting like children so much as adults acting like stupid people. Frankly, I've known a lot of people who would be diagnosed with seriously learning issues, but they show a lot more reason than the so-called smart guys these days.
    I think we all know that at heart -- no one really wants a brain surgeon who uses essential oils.

    ReplyDelete