Category Archives: The 80s me
The year of the comics
It’s Jerry Grayson’s fault. He knows all these people with opinions about comics and culture, and as the geek social fallacies would advise, said, “Hey, if I get all my friends together, they’ll be friends too!!” Which actually worked this time, for a jam let’s-all-try-it discussion for his own 1972 Project.
In the one-step-removed setting of the original Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, the president of the United States is the geriatric Richard Nixon in 1985, evidently president-for-life. In one respect, it’s not as fantastic as it seems: Ronald Reagan (born 1911) was actually older than Nixon (born 1913), thus “this geezer in the White House” as depicted in the comic – set in 1985, published in 1986 – was literally happening.
It’s the late 1980s – chosen as a transition from one set of codes, meanings, confrontations, confusions, and stereotypes regarding American black people during the mid-late 1970s to another set which settled hard into place by the mid-1990s. Read the rest of this entry
Ollie ollie oxen free
Politics and autobio sing a duet in this post! This title was central to my big dive back into comics, in the flush of First, Comico, Eclipse, and specifically Dark Horse, itself on the heels of the now long-forgotten “black and white boom.” Read the rest of this entry
Who is Coyote
Here’s the follow-up post to What you mean “we?” and probably a lot more emotions and memories than you care to deal with.
What was the question again?
This is the second in a series of dialogue-posts by me and Steve Long about vigilante characters in comics, mainly during but not completely restricted to the 1980s. More 80s TMI about me too!
It is unwise to annoy cartoonists
One does not discuss superhero comics without considering John Byrne most seriously. Read the rest of this entry
Go to hell and burn
During my senior year of college, I was 22, reading a story about a man drinking alone on his 50th birthday, visited by the ghosts of those he’d killed, presented with no particular interest or revelation concerning whether they’re “real” or not. I sit here now just after my 51st birthday and the story is as good today.
The orgasm that saved the world
Fair warning: I’m about to say some really inappropriate things. Read the rest of this entry