More women

I take no part in ostentatiously excluding Dave Sim and Cerebus the Aardvark from modern comics discussion, and I dislike the stink of piety that rises from it. “Are you now or have you ever been” regarding liking or valuing Sim’s work was instituted about twenty years ago and unfortunately seems to have stuck around.

Marvelous, meet miraculous

Superman, Captain Marvel. Captain Marvel, Marvelman. Marvelman, Captain Miracle. Marvelman, Marvelman reboot. Marvelman reboot, Miracleman. Paralleled by a completely different Captain Marvel too, oh wait, then another one, which is to say, four of those, plus Ms. Marvel, oh wait, three of those. What th’fuck?

Carol Danvers spits on your grave

Yet another example of that precise gap in my superhero comics buying: purchasing Ms. Marvel #1 and following as the newsstand’s inconsistent provision allowed, then missing the whole Avengers/X-Men story, to discover it upon returning to the titles in the late 80s. Then, in retrospect, discovering the original meaning had been long erased.

Now you’re a myyayun

I almost titled this post “Happy Tart?” but good sense prevailed. Not enough to keep me from mentioning the impulse, though.

Unpleasantries

This is the third of my series of posts regarding the original 6-issue series Marshal Law. The two previous two were Looking for a hero and Back from the Zone. This one’s a little shy on visual content, because it’d be gross. I want to talk about rape in 1986-1988 comics, which means a shocking lot of it.