I thoroughly enjoy rock music, especially of the metal variety. It’s not the only thing I listen to, of course, but metal has been with me since childhood, and my tastes haven’t really wavered over time (which is a rarity amongst most people). I’m not often a fan of the popular music of the day, and these days, it’s no different. A very popular form of music right now is metalcore (and all of the subgenres therein, like deathcore).

In case you hadn’t guessed by the name, this is metal (or hard rock) mixed with hardcore. Hardcore itself is a mix of metal and super-angsty punk rock. Quick primer: punk rock has been the driving force behind pop music even since its inception in the 1970s. It drove glam rock in the 1980s, alternative rock in the 1990s, and even “nu-metal” in the early 2000s. Now, we’ve got metalcore, and bands that try to tout their “metal roots” with just a touch of hardcore added in. However, it’s all just a sham, and the reverse is what’s actually true.

These bands are 99% hardcore, with maybe a smidgin of metal thrown in; or, in deathcore’s case, they’re just growling and screaming for effect. Sorry, that doesn’t make you a death metal band. Worse yet, hardcore’s not known for its musical proficiency; like its punk rock forerunner, it’s very simplistic and easy-to-play music. In fact, that’s exactly the point; like punk, it’s a form of “rebellion” against the more musically disciplined genres, like progressive rock. (British punk bands in the 1970s railed against the prog groups, because the latter weren’t “working class” enough. Sheesh.) The problem is that without any semblance of musical learning, you’ve got a very generic and watered-down product, no matter what genre you mix it with.

Let me give you an example. Despised Icon’s first album, Consumed By Your Poison, was decent; it was rather straightforward death metal with a touch of hardcore. But later, as the band realized hardcore’s popularity, even more of it was added to their music. Their most recent disc, The Ills of Modern Man, is trash. The hardcore influence completely muddied and diluted their previous efforts, and as a result, they sound just like everyone else in the genre. They’ve lost their identity.

Example number two: a few years back, I went to see some random show at the Webster Theater (a real dive, but one of the only places close by). One of the opening acts was Deadwait, a local band that promoted themselves as “hardcore death.” That claim was bullshit. They were a hardcore band through and through, with a second singer that attempted in vain to do random death shrieks à la Chuck Schuldiner.

So as you can see, it’s a joke. Wrapping all of this up is the insane amount of subgenres that have cropped up within metalcore. There’s deathcore, mathcore, techcore…you get the idea. The funniest part? They all sound alike! The subgenres were just created (often by bands who label themselves) to be “different.” Well, guess what: they’re not. At least take pride in your own damn work; trying too hard to be someone else and failing shows a complete lack of confidence. If you want to play shitty music, that’s fine, but don’t make up some pretentious label just to differentiate yourself from the five hundred other bands that sound just like you. Prove it with your songwriting skill…that is, of course, if you actually have any.

I hate Starbucks; the vile shit they brew and pass off as “coffee” is insulting to one’s taste buds, and the yuppie atmosphere and clientele in there makes me want to retch. And the damn places keep popping up like weeds! Not to the ridiculous extent of Dunkin’ Donuts expansion, but at least there, you’ll find some semblance of normalcy. Instead, Starbucks is a haven for holier-than-thou affluent assholes sucking down a triple-mocha-vanilla-sugar-free-fuck-latté. Seriously, who puts that kind of crap into their body? If you want a cup of coffee, then order coffee, not this watered down substitute nonsense.

And let’s not forget what Starbucks calls their personnel: baristas. In case you were wondering, the yuppies thought “clerk” was beneath them, so they use “barista” instead. This is an Italian term roughly meaning “bartender,” which most certainly does not apply to Starbucks staff! They’re fucking clerks, just like any other register jockey in a food service establishment. There’s nothing wrong with that, so just call it what it is!

The worst side effect of the Starbucks nation are these annoying priss girls who demand those multihyphenated drinks as part of their daily life. You see them prancing around the malls all the time, often dragging their weary and forlorn boyfriends with them. I must quote the newspaper comic strip Zits when commenting on this: “The more complicated the drink order, the more high-maintenance the girlfriend.”

Thank goodness my girlfriend prefers a glass of milk.

(Note: This post originally appeared on my old blog back in November 2007; I’ve edited and updated it accordingly. I wrote three previous installments, and they were posted over the past three days. Enjoy!)

It’s time to talk about companies who charge for free stuff. A classic example of this is the Heroes hardcover collection. This anthology, published by DC Comics, features the first 30-odd chapters of the Heroes comic stories, which are published once a week on the official Heroes website.

I’ll make this clear: if you bought that hardcover, you’re a fucking idiot.

Why? Because all of the chapters contained within are available for free on the aforementioned official site. If you’re buying the hardcover, you’re paying $30 for free content. It’s absolutely mindblowing that people would do this. The usual bullshit excuses are there, and very easily debunked, such as “I don’t want to read it on the computer!” So print it out, jackass; high-res PDF versions are right there. (And for the record, the “I don’t own a computer!” argument holds no water. If you can afford a TV to watch Heroes, you can afford a computer.)

Plus, the interactive editions online also offer considerable extra content that’s not possible on paper. So now, you’re paying $30 for free content minus the extras! Give me a break. Finally, since there’s only a set amount of chapters in the hardcover, whereas new ones are posted every week on the site, you’re not getting the complete, up-to-date edition. (Which of course means that they’ll likely produce a second hardcover later on, and these fools will fall into the spend-money-on-free-shit trap all over again!)

I understand that the hardcover is an attempt by DC and Heroes producer NBC Universal to extract more money from the show’s manic following; it’s technically a smart business decision, and I’m not faulting that, even though I personally disagree with it. What I am faulting is the morons who contribute to this kind of ridiculously stupid exploitation.

The same applies to collected editions of webcomics. Okay, great, you want to show your support for the creators who work on them; well, by the very act of visiting their websites to read the webcomics, you’re supporting them. The ads there are driven by daily page hits, and if you click on said ads, that’s even more revenue for the creator. If you buy a printed version of the webcomics, then all you’re doing is paying for something free. There’s no argument to support it; if you’re listening to the radio, would you send a check to the radio station to “support” the music? If you read a column you like on CNN’s website, are you going to send money to the columnist to “support” his or her work? If you’re watching Lost, are you going to buy Evangeline Lilly a new car, because you think she’s a fantastic actress? Of course not. The exact same principle applies to buying these anthologies. You’re wasting your money, plain and simple, and the creators are taking advantage of that, even if they’re unaware of it. If you really want to support their work, how about getting the word out? Word of mouth, and by extension, new readership and increased ad revenue, will do a hell of a lot more for them than purchasing free content.

Last but not least: the public domain. Certain comics from decades past came from small publishers that eventually folded, and their works have entered the public domain. Some of the larger publishers now have decided to reissue these works for an entire new generation to enjoy. While promoting these classic tales is certainly altruistic, charging full price for something that’s legally free most certainly is not. I understand that it takes time and money to hunt down all of this stuff, clean it up, and publish it. However, why are they charging the same amount of money that they’d charge for a collected edition of any other book? In this case, the publishers are making more profit (since there’s no creators to pay), as they’re charging you even more for free materials! Public domain is public domain; that means it’s free, people. Get it from the library, off the Internet, or wherever you choose; but for Pete’s sake, don’t pay for it.

(Note: This post originally appeared on my old blog back in October 2007; I’ve edited and updated it accordingly. I wrote three more installments; part one and part two have already been posted, and I’ll be reposting a new version of part four tomorrow. Enjoy!)

Today I’m going to talk about something that affects fans from the stereotypical comic book buyer/hoarder to the average Joe who may buy only a few books per month. Even though the various types of comic fans couldn’t be more different, there is a disease that can afflict them: repeatedly buying books, usually just for the sake of buying them. Even if a book has been down in the shitpit for years, a victim will keep buying it, just because it’s their favorite character, or they’ve been reading it for a long time, or any other excuse you could think of.

This is not merely “nerdy.” This is a serious medical condition, and we call it pathological addiction. The fact that it’s “just comics” is completely irrelevant; it’s still something that eats up a lot of the victims’ money and time, like any other addiction, and it’s damaging to their health. Let me give you a few examples.

For background information, we’ll examine…myself! I’ve been reading comics my entire life. As you know, Green Lantern is my favorite comic book character; he has been since the mid-1980s, when my father first bought me a Green Lantern comic book. (For the life of me, I can’t remember what specific issue it was!) I read the adventures of the character for twenty years, which is an ungodly amount of time. However, the Rebirth miniseries and subsequent retconning/relaunching of the series a few years back flushed the whole thing down the toilet. I stayed on for about a year or so, fervently hoping in typical fanboy manner that the stories would improve…but they actually got worse, and worse, and worse. Writer Geoff Johns has a personal vendetta against the Kyle Rayner incarnation of the character, and has turned the entire GL history into a disgusting fanfic. At long last, I quit buying the book. When you’re literally wasting money on something you hate, it’s a serious problem, and fortunately one that I was able to catch in time and remedy. That’s made it easier to apply the same principle to other books; the new Moon Knight series is atrocious, so I dropped it. The Flash bombed quickly during the “Fastest Man Alive” experiment, and the subsequent “relaunch” shut me off after four issues. Last but not least, my second-favorite character, Iron Man. Thankfully, that one has been improving, after we suffered through the horrendous Warren Ellis-scripted stuff and the ridiculous Civil War tie-ins. Ironically, the more kid-oriented Marvel Adventures Iron Man is better than the main book right now, but I’m sure that Iron Man will continue to dramatically improve across the board due to the popularity of the Iron Man film. As it stands right now, Iron Man is the only book I buy.

As you can see, I had to “break the cycle,” as it were. It can be hard, but c’mon…this is a matter of mental health, and that’s far and away more important than any hobby. But enough about me. Let’s talk about other customers I’ve seen, and no, I’m not going to use their real names. Instead, I shall replace them with character names from the Super Mario Bros. games. The tales I’m about to tell you are all true; I’m not trying to knock on anyone personally, but the stuff I’ve seen is downright depressing and frightening. I seriously believe that some of these folks need some help.

We’ll begin with “Mario.” Here we have a gentleman who’s been buying comics for quite some time. He’s unfortunately been trapped in a corner by the mega-crossovers of Marvel and DC; when a big crossover hits, he’ll buy every related issue, just to get “the whole story.” (Somebody needs to introduce this guy to the internet.) Aside from the obviously giant leap in expenses, it ends up that Mario is buying books he doesn’t even like, but they’re part of the crossover; therefore, he feels he “has” to have them. That’s not healthy.

Now, let’s take a look at “Luigi.” He buys a considerable amount of comics, sure, but Luigi takes things a step further by working a second job on the weekends to cover the expense. That alone is a colossal red flag; if you’re working a second job to pay for a hobby, something is very, very wrong. It’s akin to selling your prized possessions to pay for booze. Aside from the obvious financial implications here, it’s also eating up your precious time, which could be better spent elsewhere.

Last but not least, we’ve got “Yoshi.” This guy literally buys hundreds of dollars’ worth of comics every week. And like Luigi, he had to get a second job to pay for his habit, though he’s working it more than once a week. Let’s take a conservative estimate, and say Yoshi is spending $250 a week. That’s $1,000 a month, people; in other words, a standard biweekly paycheck for the average salaryman! Can you imagine spending two weeks’ pay on a bunch of comic books?! You shouldn’t even be spending that much on the fucking rent! This is extremely unhealthy, not to mention that it flies in the face of any financial sense.

A common defense against this kind of addiction is “comics are all they have,” or “if it makes them feel better, then who cares?” Do those sound familiar? They should, because these are identical rationales used to “explain away” any other addiction. The end results are still the same: it drains your funds, and adversely affects your health. If you can’t stop, you’re addicted, and you need to do something about it for your own sake!

They have gambling hotlines for people to help friends and family with a gambling problem; there’s no hotline for comic book nerds, but take it upon yourself to help people you care about if they’ve fallen down that slippery slope. It’s a condition that’ll only get worse if you do nothing.

(Note: This post originally appeared on my old blog back in February 2007; I’ve edited and updated it accordingly. I wrote three more installments; one was posted yesterday, and the others will follow over the next two days. Enjoy!)

So I think I may have discovered another big reason why I’ve been so disillusioned with the comic book industry over the past few years. Put simply, I think I may be “growing out” of comics.

When I pick up the latest issue of a comic book, I’ve sometimes found myself caring less and less as to how the story progresses; I already know what’s going to happen. The good guys will suffer some personal anguish, but still win, and the bad guys will escape (or get locked up and escape later) and swear vengeance or some such nonsense. (Or worse, it’ll tie into some company-wide event that will be retconned in a few years anyway.) To examine the aforementioned books in detail: while DC Comics’ current Flash series started out okay, it didn’t last; they killed off one Flash, and now it’s progressing almost identically to the Flash relaunch after Crisis on Infinite Earths in 1987. In other words…there was no need to relaunch it again! Moon Knight was a colossal disappointment; the first storyarc (by novelist Charlie Huston) was focused on shock value and grim-’n'-gritty violence (which has become a replacement for good stories in far too many comics these days; it’s the Grand Theft Auto-ing of the comic book industry, if you will), rather than the character development and mystery that was a hallmark of the previous series. Finally, we’ve got Iron Man. After Warren Ellis’ slapdash “Extremis” tale, the book’s gotten back on track somewhat, but the Civil War tie-ins are still running it into the ground. However, Iron Man himself, who was painted as a “villain” in Civil War, was back to full-time hero status, and even directing S.H.I.E.L.D., with his sins largely forgotten by early 2008. Why? Because that’s when the Iron Man film came out, and Marvel Comics obviously wants moviegoers to pick up the book, along with the extra monthly Iron Man books they’ve created (Marvel Adventures Iron Man, The Invincible Iron Man, and numerous miniseries).

Comics have always been skewed towards a younger audience, though said audience was expanded a bit to the young adult demographic over the last few decades. Lately, however, both Marvel and DC have focused more on the nostalgic crowd by writing the same ol’ shit from the 1980s over and over and over again. And by “nostalgic” I meant fanboys who are perpetually stuck in the past. DC’s Infinite Crisis crossover essentially set the clock back twenty years, which isn’t good; mid-1980s DC books were garbage! That’s why the original Crisis on Infinite Earths came to pass; to clean up the mess! Marvel’s Civil War event was equally pointless; it brought back the colossal fights of the past, but it didn’t have much of a lasting effect, as Secret Invasion will reveal that many characters were secretly Skrulls. I think it’s a perpetual cycle; kids grow up reading this stuff, realize it’s old hat after a decade or two, and move on to other pursuits. New kids replace them, and the process repeats itself.

I’m trying not to repeat myself too much; I’ve already talked at length about my complaints with the current state of the industry, and even made such concerns known in a letter I wrote to Dan DiDio (the current Senior Vice President and Executive Editor at DC Comics). Surprisingly enough, he did read it, according to a letter sent to me by coordinating editor Jann Jones; the letter was also apparently passed around to other editorial staff members. I’m sure it will have zero effect, but I at least made my voice heard. The same can’t be said for 99.9999% of comic fans, who mindlessly buy the same junk repeatedly, and even when they do complain, they still buy the books! It’s like a Pavlovian response. A few bad issues here and there is expected, but when you constantly buy a book that’s sucked for years on end, you’ve got a serious problem. I had such a problem myself with Green Lantern, but I solved it: I’m not buying the book anymore. I refuse to support the atrociously bad writing, and it’s as simple as that. The rest of DC is circling the drain for the same reasons, and I don’t read any books by the publisher anymore.

Another point of contention with the big publishers: the status quo. This guarantees that important characters will never truly die or disappear; they’ll always be resurrected, or retconned, or otherwise reinstated. Look how long The Death of Superman lasted! Superman will always be around, Bruce Wayne will always be Batman, and so on. It’s understandable, of course, but still a growing problem. You’ve got the same stories told over and over; the good guys always win, the bad guys always lose, humanity’s safe. There’s no surprises or innovation in comics anymore, and as I’ve said before, even the big company-wide crossovers accomplish nothing.

Aside from the status quo, the other reason that an overwhelming majority of comics are so bad is because the writing is absolutely terrible, as I’ve discussed before. There’s no rationalization for this; put down the rose-tinted glasses, and listen up. Crap is crap; to quote a friend of mine, “you can’t polish a turd.” This is the kind of stuff that would’ve gotten an “F” in my college writing classes, fer crissake. Even when the big publishers bring in “star power” from films and television to script their books (like Babylon 5 creator J. Michael Straczynski, or Buffy‘s Joss Whedon), far too often we still get horribly written generic plots and clichés, often directly lifted from past issues! Fanboys eat them up, of course, because they just don’t know any better. I’ve been to comic book conventions; when the commonly held stereotype of fat unwashed comic book fanboys represents a majority of the attendees (which in turn makes me the equivalent of Brad Pitt), you know it’s a scary place. These people need a life, but they do indeed make up most of the comic book readin’ public.

Lastly, there’s the absolutely ridiculous price of comics these days. Average price for a comic book: $2.99. Three fucking dollars, for a mere twenty-two pages (or less!) of actual story, and a nearly equal amount of advertisements. The number of ads in books has gone up significantly over the past five to ten years, and it’s consumers that get stung by it. Ads are supposed to drive the costs down, but we’re still getting screwed. Retailers are paying the price, too; more ads means more pages, which means the books weigh more, which means they cost more to ship…and who has to pay for shipping? Your friendly neighborhood comic book store, of course.

Doom and gloom, doom and gloom. Well, all’s not yet lost in the world of sequential art. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is twofold: creator-owned projects (like manga), and old comics.

First up, the creator-owned stuff. Manga is the best example of this; the writer and artist (often, they’re one and the same) have complete control over their book. As a result, you get a much better story than the monstrous continuity error-laden stuff found at Marvel or DC. Important characters can get whacked, there’s actual surprises, and clever use of art panels makes for some rather unique tales (especially if you avoid the commonplace fantasy/scifi stuff). Plus, manga’s a much better deal financially; no ads (save for a scant few on the inside covers for other products by the same publisher), and you get over three times the amount of story for the price, on average. Manga anthologies like the Shonen Jump magazine are even better; 300-plus pages of manga for five bucks!

Old comics work for much the same reason; when they were published, many of the clichés that are constantly rehashed nowadays hadn’t been invented yet! Or, if they had, they were still “new” enough to work well within the confines of the publisher’s universe. Also, if you want to know where some characters, stories, and rivalries got their start, where else would you look? Marvel’s Essential line and DC’s Showcase Presents line of trade paperbacks fall into this category; they provide a black-and-white anthology of a few years’ worth of comics, all for under twenty bucks. Considering that some of the rare comics contained within those often sell for a few hundred dollars each, the collections are a pretty solid deal.

I’ve been reading comics for over twenty years now, but sometimes, one just needs to move on and grow up. (Manga and the occasional trade paperback I’ll stick with, for the reasons I outlined above.) Buying overpriced comics won’t get you anywhere in life, after all; I should really focus on a more worthwhile hobby. (Note: I realize my sick video game habit may not qualify as “worthwhile,” but fear not, I’m doing some spring cleaning in that department as well. Not to mention that you get a lot more bang for your buck with video games than you do with comics. $49.99 for a fifty-hour RPG…or a DC Archives hardcover you’ll breeze through in an hour or less? Do the math.)