More NonSense: SPX 2017 Edition

Go to: SPX

Heidi MacDonald on this year's SPX.

Rob Clough on this year's SPX.

Kat Overland on this year's Ignatz Awards.

Matthias Wivel on Jack Kirby’s late foray into autobiographical comics, Street Code.

Tom King and David Finch talk about their creative process when writing Batman.

Seth Simons on the current neglect of The New Yorker’s Cartoon Bank, which licensed cartoons for secondary use. Cartoon Bank was established by Editor Bob Mankoff in 1992, and bought by the New Yorker in 1997:

The Cartoon Bank was a windfall for cartoonists, who in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s witnessed the market for single-panel gag cartoons dwindle from a handful of publications to virtually only The New Yorker. “I remember one particular check early on, probably my second or third check from the Cartoon Bank, was close to $8,000,” said one longtime cartoonist who was involved in the Cartoon Bank’s earliest planning sessions, and who requested anonymity to speak candidly. “As time went on, the returns weren’t as great, but they were still good—they were still two or three thousand dollars a month.” Alex Gregory, a contributor since 1999, described similar numbers. “I would regularly get checks for one or two thousand dollars,” he said. Mankoff, who had a bird’s-eye view of the company’s financials, spoke of cartoonists receiving residual income to the tune of $30,000 to $40,000 annually. The 1998 Times report notes that one cartoonist, Peter Steiner, had by that point received more than $30,000 in royalties for a single cartoon. 

In 2008, Mankoff handed off leadership of the Cartoon Bank to Condé Nast, who, it quickly became apparent, planned to operate the business with a lighter touch. “I consulted with them for many years after I left, urging them to support this business and commit to this business,” Mankoff said. “For their own reasons they decided that they’re not supporting it. There aren’t really any employees left. And those people who used to do those things”—licensing, custom books, original art sales—“have been let go. The people there are absolutely well-meaning, but they have no real idea of what this business is, who the cartoonists are, how you might leverage and maximize it.” 

Over the following years, the well dried up. The cartoonist who described an $8,000 check he received early on said he now sees at most a few hundred a month. Gregory said the same, as did several other cartoonists who I spoke too.

Mimi Pond lists the top ten graphic memoirs.

Matt Furie takes legal action using the DMCA against various alt-right groups.

Steve Foxe explains why Marvel's latest initiative, Legacy, won't save the company from declining sales.

Chris Ware on writing characters who come from a different background from him.

Charles Pulliam-Moore points out that the X-Men and the Mutants are not an ideal analogy for race, something I've been saying for some time now.

David Lewis on Muslim representation in comics.

Hayao Miyazaki and his portrayal of the supernatural.

Kevin Smith profiled by Abraham Riesman. Smith's early films wedded the 90s slacker ethic with unapologetic geeky obsessiveness, foreshadowing our pop culture landscape. However, his particular brand of storytelling hasn't aged very well. But while Smith has fallen out of favour as a film auteur, he's successfully reinvented himself as an online presence.

The Big Bang Theory serves as a continual reminder that Hollywood is committed to perpetuating the geek stereotype. Unfortunately, this tends to highlight some of the more negative aspects of fandom to the television audience.

Anders Nilsen explains why senators should vote NO on "Graham-Cassidy, the latest Republican attempt to dismantle Obamacare and rob people of their health care."

Anyone who follows my work at all closely probably knows that I have published two books about a particular illness and death and its aftermath. In March of 2005 my girlfriend at the time, Cheryl Weaver, was diagnosed with cancer – Hodgkins Lymphoma. Despite an initially positive prognosis the disease failed to respond to treatment, and in November of that year the disease killed her. In my books I didn't delve too deeply into the details of our particular odyssey through the health care system, but one relevant fact is that Cheryl didn't have health insurance. For several months before her diagnosis she had been dealing with a variety of what felt like unrelated, inexplicable, minor health issues. She hadn't gone to see a doctor because, at the time we couldn't afford it. The simple fact is that had she had insurance she may well have had a chance. And her story is far from unique. Lack of health insurance literally kills people every single day in America. Wealth should not determine who gets care in this country any more than it should determine who has access to the justice system or the political process. It doesn't have to be this way.

Lynda Barry has an advice column.

Star Trek: The Next Generation premiered on September 28th, 1987. It bestowed upon our pop culture landscape the great Patrick Stewart, the finest actor to ever grace the hallowed franchise. He would immortalize "Make it so," "Tea Earl Grey," "Shut up Wesley," not to mention his patented "Picard Manoeuvre." TNG's first season was pretty rough. And by that I mean it was practically unwatchable. But even early TNG succeeded in expanding the franchise with ideas that would go on to become essential to its worldbuilding.

Inhumans sounds like a crappy show made 20 years ago.

RIP Len Wein (June 12, 1948 – September 10, 2017). The legendary comic book writer was the co-creator of popular characters such as Swamp Thing, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Storm, and Colossus. Bronze Age creators like Wein were among the first working professionals to rise from the ranks of organized fandom, and their work expressed sensibilities which placed them a lot closer to our modern fan-driven market.

TCJ posts an interview with Len from The Comics Journal #48, August 1979.

Sean T. Collins et al. lists the top ten film performances of the late Harry Dean Stanton (July 14, 1926 – September 15, 2017).

RIP Hugh Hefner (April 9, 1926 – September 27, 2017), founder of Playboy magazine, notorious for its glamour pinup pictorials. But at its height, Playboy also published notable cartoonists such as Jack Cole, Harvey Kurtzman, Will Elder, Jules Feiffer.

More Nonsense: Kung fu Kenny Edition

Go to: DNA, by Kendrick Lamar

Marvel had to release a statement to reassure fans, due to the backlash over its latest event Secret Empire.

At Marvel, we want to assure all of our fans that we hear your concerns about aligning Captain America with Hydra and we politely ask you to allow the story to unfold before coming to any conclusion.

1978 documentary The World of Comic Books is now available online. It's an interesting time capsule of the Bronze Age comics industry, complete with onomatopoeia (pow, swoosh, boom!), canned sound effects, and accompanying bombastic narration that could have been written by Stan Lee himself. The documentary even gets to throw shade at the casual sexism of comics fandom. But the best part is seeing artists such as Neal Adams, Jim Steranko and Trevor Von Eeden in their prime.

Nicola Streeten reports on two comics exhibitions: Shoah et bande dessinée and The Inking Women.

Jia Tolentino profiles G. Willow Wilson.

Christopher Butcher talks TCAF.

Tom Spurgeon reports from this year's TCAF.

It's time for the Jedi to end. And it just took 40 years.

Shawn Setaro on the connection between kung fu cinema and hip hop culture.

Robert Foyle Hunwick on the rise of Chinese fight clubs.

Maren Williams on the sedition charges brought against Fahmi Reza for portraying Prime Minister Najib Razak as a clown.

Charles Pulliam-Moore on the death threats levelled against transgender webcomic creator Sophie Labelle.

It boggles the mind that there are racist Star Trek fans who reject the cast of the latest series Discovery. It's Star Trek!

R.I.P. Roger Moore (October 14, 1927 –  May 23, 2017). He was the James Bond of my generation.

50th Trek: Redshirts

In honour of Star Trek's 50th anniversary, I'm writing a series of posts discussing a favorite example of Star Trek related media.

Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas
By John Scalzi

One inescapable part of being a 21st century consumer of popular genre entertainment is the impossibility of ignoring any discussion about the multitude of tropes it generates. Televised science fiction is no exception in this regard. And Star Trek is often credited with inventing, or at the very least popularizing, many sci-fi tropes. As I pointed out in my look at The Physics of Star Trek, the venerable franchise has already generated a considerable amount of discussion from fans possessing differing academic credentials. But the most accessible way to examine the unreality of fiction is through the use of metafictional devices. Irony and self-reflection are the order of the day, especially when dealing with works that are already decades old. What’s the point anymore in denying that one isn’t watching or reading a work of fiction? Named after one of Trek’s most well known conventions, Redshirts begins very much the way most fans would probably expect. But in order to fill over 300 pages, author John Scalzi pushes the conceit to its logical extreme.

That conceit was already touched on in the 1999 comedy Galaxy Quest. In the film, the cast of an old sci-fi show are made to reprise their roles for the benefit of a group of naive aliens who've confused the show for footage of real events. As a result actor Guy Fleegman (played by Sam Rockwell) is filled with fear that he will die at any moment because his role on the show was a redshirt - a random crewmember who looses his life in one episode. Guy’s terror mounts with every dangerous situation they face until he’s eventually convinced by one of the cast regulars that he could be instead playing the plucky comic relief. He undergoes a quick personal transformation, especially after someone else dies dramatically in his place.

In the novel, a group of ensigns working for the intergalactic organization named the Universal Union (affectionately called the Dub U) have just been assigned to the starship Intrepid. The ensigns treat this like any other assignment until they all realize they’re replacing dead crewmembers. In fact, the Intrepid has a notoriously high turnover rate because crewmembers keep getting killed on every away mission. Even odder, every mission is composed of at least one bridge officer. While they might occasionally endure bodily injury, they’re apparently immune to death. The bridge officers are entirely oblivious to this oddity even when it's pointed out to them. But the rest of the crew lives in a state of constant terror, just like Guy. They make themselves scarce whenever one of the officers are nearby. And they’ve developed a bizarre set of superstitious behaviors designed to minimize the body count, based on which officer they’re accompanying on a mission.

If this was the full extent of the novel, it would be nothing more than a clever parody of a famous television show. But these redshirts refuse to be just glorified extras, they want to be the heroes of their own story. So they make a point of getting to the root cause of this enigma. And without giving away too much, they’re eventually confronted with the absurdly fictional nature of their own existence. Scalzi's redshirts are actually competent scientists, which makes their observations about the universe they live in all the more painfully ironic.

This draws attention to the paradox of Star Trek's appeal. Like many science fiction authors, Scalzi is pretty critical about how science is often portrayed on televised sci-fi. It’s rules are often inconsistent and continuosly altered to serve the narrative. The redshirts often give voice this analysis. A bridge officer who’s an obvious analog for Pavel Chekov is exposed to a life threatening disease, but is saved at the last moment by a literal magic box. He’s horribly mangled by killer robots, only to fully recover a few days later. When the redshirts debate about a possible method for time travel, they note that the only reason it could possibly work is if the procedure included one of the bridge officers. And they’re completely mystified by the sheer number of nonsensical deaths suffered by the Intrepid’s crewmembers: Longranian ice sharks, Borgovian land worms, Pornathic crabs. Weirdness piled upon weirdness.

Star Trek’s fanciful vision of space exploration looks more anachronistic today than it would have back in the 1960s. And yet the franchise is often cited as an inspiration that made actual space exploration a reality. The science might be iffy, but its optimistic view of the future proved to be enduring. Even Scalzi’s critique is made from a position of affection for the television show. His protagonists have an unfortunate tendency towards quippishness, but they’re an intelligent and mostly sympathetic bunch who work together just as well as any Starfleet crew. Enough so that when one of them dies, the demise comes across as wasteful.

Redshirts runs out of plot before the book ends. The last third of the book is a lengthy meditation on the nature of fiction and its connection to reality, written as 3 lengthy codas. Scalzi explores the intimate relationship between writers and their creations. The fear writers have that the characters they hurt and kill on the page are truly suffering somewhere out there is thematically similar to the 2006 film Stranger than Fiction. The codas are tonally dissonant and focus on a completely different set of characters, so that it’s best to think of them not as the conclusion to the main story, but as a separate, if related, body of work. Unnecessary perhaps, but one that rounds out Scalzi’s own metafictional examination. Overall, he took kind of an awfully crazy journey to get there.

50th Trek: Star Trek: Boldly Go #1 & Star Trek: Waypoint #1

In honour of Star Trek's 50th anniversary, I'm writing a series of posts discussing a favorite example of Star Trek related media.

Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

It occurred to me that I haven’t discussed any of the comic books being published to honor the occasion of Star Trek’s 50th anniversary. So here are two titles from IDW. I’ve found the marketing surrounding this milestone to be strangely anemic, and I wasn’t aware of these comics until the last few days. How pitiful is that?

Star Trek: Boldly Go #1

Story: Mike Johnson
Art: Tony Shasteen
Colors: Davide Mastrolonardo
Letters: AndWorld Designs

[Spoiler Alert for Star Trek Beyond]

An oft-repeated truism among fans is that Star Trek is better suited for television than cinema. The reason usually given by them is that Trek’s brand of introspective storytelling isn’t perfectly compatible with the spectacle often associated with the silver screen. But a simpler reason is that Trek was originally designed to be an episodic TV show. Over the course of its initial run, the show acquired a rather complicated history. This history would become a rich backstory referenced by future films, for all intents turning them into longer, more expensive television episodes possessing much better production values.

This close connection between the two parts of the franchise was somewhat ruptured with the Kelvin timeline. The venerable Leonard Nimoy was on hand for the 2009 cinematic reboot to inform the new cast (and remind the audience) about a continuity that had now become a sign for what could have been. Now unable to directly use the original timeline, the two sequels would sometimes refer to new, never before filmed events. In lieu of a TV show, IDW would launch a new comic book series to helpfully fill-in the events that took place between the films. Unfortunately, this is the best that fans can expect of the U.S.S. Enterprise crew of the Kelvin timeline. It’s highly unlikely that this particular cast would agree to meet the additional demands of shooting a television series. And even the film sequels still leaned heavily on Nimoy and nostalgia for the original timeline to lend emotional heft to their proceedings. The comic books still felt relatively incidental to the films.

But while the relationship between print and screen may be one-sided, IDW is committed for now to keeping the Kelvin timeline alive between film launches. Star Trek: Boldly Go is a continuation of the comic book series, only now under a new title. The comic picks up where Star Trek Beyond left off. The film notoriously destroyed the Enterprise yet again, only to promise that everyone would soon reunite with a brand new starship. This series gets to tell what happened to them in the meantime.

All in all, this is an entertaining, if conventional, reintroduction to the main characters. Just like the cast of the Original Series from the early films, James Kirk and company have been scattered to different Starfleet commissions throughout Federation space. Unlike TOS Kirk, the new Kirk has decided not to pursue the promotion to the post of admiral. That’s a shame, since I found that one of the more visually cooler settings of STB was the space station Yorktown. Kirk has decided instead to accept the assignment of “interim captain” of another starship, and he’s accompanied by the good doctor Leonard “Bones” McCoy and the always eager ensign Pavel Chekov. I'll admit, his presence on the ship is particularly bittersweet for reasons that have nothing to do with the comic.

Mike Johnson and Tony Shasteen capture the tone and look of the films’ cast while integrating a few elements from the original timeline. The infamous Delta Quadrant plays an important role. The ill-fated captain Clark Terrell from The Wrath of Khan makes his first appearance. But the most fascinating thing about Kirk being assigned to a new ship are the new crewmembers, particularly a Romulan first mate and a Tellarite doctor. This keeps the story from being another familiar retread.

By the end of this issue, all the members of the band, minus a Montgomery Scott still schooling wet-nosed cadets at Starfleet Academy, have been more or less reunited by an obligatory new threat to the Federation. “New” here being a relative term, because it’s actually an all-too familiar enemy in the original timeline. In fact, I’m surprised that such a significant adversary was introduced so early in the series and in a comic book instead of being reserved for a future film.

Star Trek: Waypoint #1

Story: Donny Cates, Sandra Lanz
Art: Mack Chater, Sandra Lanz
Colors: Jason Lewis, Dee Cunniffe
Letters: AndWorld Designs

If the Kelvin timeline isn’t making the jump to the small screen anytime soon, the original timeline is still being treated as fertile ground for now. A new television series is currently in the late stages of development and will be released next year. In the meantime, IDW’s new anthology series Star Trek: Waypoint is the venue for creators to tell stories in the vein of classic Star Trek. Using well-trod characters who already embody the humanitarian spirit approved by the late Gene Roddenberry. These are stories that would fit into the episodic structure of a typical Trek series. They’re light on extravagant action set-pieces, but composed largely of intimate conversations characteristic of the franchise. Waypoint offers a taste for what Trek was to many fans.

Occupying the bulk of the issue, “Puzzles” features an out of continuity tale about an Enterprise run by two people: Geordi La Forge and Data. Geordi has been promoted to ship’s captain while Data’s mind has been uploaded into the Enterprise mainframe. Data now projects holograms of himself while working on every task on the bridge, and even in other parts of the ship. Needless to say, it’s an eerie sight to see Geordi surrounded by only one other ghostlike presence.

When the Enterprise encounters an immense glowing cube floating in deep space, their attempts to make contact are rebuffed. But they soon figure out that the cube is a time-displaced vessel that is critically damaged, putting its own crew in mortal danger. However, Geordi and Data soon discover that rescuing the crew might possibly be breaking the Prime Directive.

This type of moral quandary is par for the course for The Next Generation, and so is the eventual solution which favors compassion over a strictly legalistic interpretation of the law. Geordi and Data, who usually operate as the braintrust for captain Jean-Luc Picard, now behave more like a Kirk and Spock when pondering their actions. Data even paraphrases Spock’s famous dictum “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” Artist Mack Chater isn’t the most evocative when trying to portray Trek’s futuristic setting, but he gets to draw these two as older, more world-weary individuals making difficult choices.

The second and much shorter “Daylily” tells the story of lieutenant Nyota Uhura stranded on an alien planet when a transporter mishap separates her from the rest of the away team. She encounters and befriends one of the native life-forms, who makes a point of keeping her company until the Enterprise can resolve the problem.

It’s an uncomplicated anecdote that nonetheless underscores the open-minded attitude towards discovering new life that every Starfleet officer is supposed to exhibit when on a mission. But Sandra Lanz is the comic’s most expressive artist, and she uses her talents to draw attention to a character who never really had the spotlight shine on her during the TOS era. Her Uhura is remarkable in its likeness to actress Nichelle Nichols, and the warm palette she employs reinforces the story’s optimistic message.

50th Trek: The Physics of Star Trek

In honour of Star Trek's 50th anniversary, I'm writing a series of posts discussing a favorite example of Star Trek related media.

The Physics of Star Trek
by Lawrence M. Krauss

Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

If Trekkies helped spawn the current fashion for fan-themed documentaries, The Physics of Star Trek would inspire the trend of books which blended two kinds of stereotypical nerdery - academia and pop culture. Virtually every successful franchise seems to have been subject to this kind of treatment: comic book superheroes and supervillains, J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth, Harry Potter, even that other, less rational sci-fi series with “Star” in its title. Compared to the era when Carl Sagan or David Attenborough or Fritjof Capra would rarely deign to reference popular entertainment, our current big-brained public figures promoting education such as Michio Kaku or Phil Plait are more likely to  mention the latest film, television show, or graphic novel, if it will help them make a point about how science functions in the real world. If author Lawrence Krauss may have initially treated the idea of a science book based on Star Trek a joke, it almost makes sense in retrospect as the logical start for the trend. When the book was published in 1995, Trek had already been talking about the future for almost 30 years.

The title for the book is somewhat misleading. The first half does cover the history of modern physics in more-or-less chronological order, from the classical mechanics of Isaac Newton, the two theories of relativity by Albert Einstein, atomic theory, to the weirdness that is quantum mechanics. But this is Star Trek after all, so Krauss must venture into the fields of astronomy and cosmology in later chapters. He even gives his two cents about biology, psychology, computer science, and philosophy, because of course he does. Unsurprisingly, it’s that last part where Krauss is at his least sure footed. At barely 175 pages, TPOST is a slim volume. But it’s hardly a quick read because of the nature of its subject matter. Nevertheless, Krauss does his best to cut down on the jargon, and there’s not a single mathematical equation in sight. The most he does to illuminate some of the more complex ideas being discussed is to use several schematic drawings. It’s about as plain-spoken as a physics-based science book written by a Ph.D. can get.

What does become apparent as the book progresses is the enormous difficulty of the task Krauss has set up for himself. Star Trek was already a massive franchise in 1995, which included The Original Series, The Next Generation, seven feature films, the first two seasons of Deep Space Nine, and the first season of Voyager. Given that TNG was the most successful part of the franchise, the book tends to reference it more than any of the other Trek series. Like a later-day positivist version of Capra, or a real world Sheldon Cooper, Krauss has to demonstrate fluency in two different realms, then attempt to draw a connection between them as both a trusted expert in his field, and as a judgemental fan.*

That’s not so simple because like any form of speculative fantasy, Star Trek isn’t just cribbing from the textbook. There’s a lot of artistic license involved in the writing of any episode. Trying to make sense of Trek’s fictional universe is like translating a book from English to Chinese, then into Korean, then French, then back into English. Basically, Krauss is assembling his own head-canon. When examining technologies such as the matter transporter or the holodeck, Krauss has to surmise from multiple episodes which aren’t always consistent with each other just how those technologies function before he can give an explanation on whether they might even be feasible in this universe. Is the matter transporter just transmitting a data-rich signal to the receiving device, or is it sending with it a matter stream as well? Is the holodeck just producing holograms, or is it also manipulating solid matter whenever necessary? When he synthesizes a model for how the warp drive might work, Krauss rather optimistically explains, “This scenario must be what the Star Trek writers intended when they invented warp drive, even if it bears little resemblance to the technical descriptions they have provided.” You don’t say?

As for the answers Krauss provides for Star Trek’s three key technologies (warp drive, time travel, matter transporter), here’s the (spoiler alert!) Cliff Notes version of his analysis. All of these technologies would generate stupendous energy requirements that make them virtually unfeasible. And while general relativity does make warp drive and travel to the past at least theoretically possible if not practical, matter transporters run into the theoretical limits of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, which puts an absolute limit on the precision for measuring the fundamental properties of a subatomic particle. So no one’s beaming up any time soon.

Science has naturally moved on since 1995, though so far not in a direction that would change any of Krauss’ basic answers. The development of quantum teleportation uses particles for encoding and transmitting information, but still won’t allow us to transport a living person. Newer measurements about the fate of the Universe have led cosmologists to speculate about dark energy. The long hypothesized Higgs Boson particle was found in 2013. Another hypothesized phenomena, gravitational waves, was finally detected earlier this year. The discovery of thousands of exoplanets has only deepened the mystery of why we have not yet found new life and new civilization outside of the Earth. Even our own solar system has gotten so complicated that astronomers reclassified Pluto as a “dwarf planet”, whatever the hell that means. And as for exploring strange new worlds, NASA now faces competition from the private sector. But these companies arguably wouldn't exist in the first place without Stat Trek serving as inspiration.

However cleverly organized, TPOST utilizes only a very narrow set of tools to study the franchise. So it comes as no great shock that the book has galvanized other experts to give their own interpretations based on their particular field of knowledge. To date, this has included biology, computer science, ethics, business management, history, metaphysics, and religious studies. But I suspect that the book which will resonate most with the current market is the one that tackles how the Federation managed to build a post-scarcity society from a post-apocalyptic setting. If Lawrence Krauss has succeeded, however accidentally, in proving one thing, it’s that Star Trek can be viewed to be just about anything.
____
*Krauss prefers the label "Trekker" when talking about Star Trek fans.

50th Trek: Trekkies (1997)

In honour of Star Trek's 50th anniversary, I'm writing a series of posts discussing a favorite example of Star Trek related media.

Trekkies (1997)
Director: Roger Nygard
Host: Denise Crosby

Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

“I don’t know, I hope it lasts forever … As long as it’s thoughtful, it’s a good thing." 
- Leonard Nimoy (1931-2015)

One of the early criticisms levelled at Trekkies from the very community it was portraying was that it spent way too much time parading a more extreme version of Star Trek fandom instead of representing the majority composed of more “normal” fans. The documentary’s most infamous character was and continues to be Barbara Adams, an alternate juror for the Whitewater trial of Governor Jim Guy Tucker who achieved nationwide notoriety for wearing her Starfleet uniform to the courtroom,  tricorder, rank pips and all. When discussing her actions, she referred to her fellow fans, “I don’t want my officers to ever feel ashamed to wear their uniform.” On the face of it, it’s pretty ridiculous to compare a homemade costume to a military uniform. But she insisted on people showing respect for her rank of Lieutenant Commander, even at the printing press where she worked from within its binding and finishing department.

Trekkies quickly latches on to cosplay as a signifier of the more eccentric fan. Family man David Greenstein has a Star Trek-themed man cave and bathroom at home. To his wife’s horror, he admits to wanting to modify his earlobes in order to appear more Vulcan. Alas, he can’t afford the operation. Denis Bourguignon runs a sci-fi themed dental office, complete with staff wearing blue science officer uniforms. He and wife Shelly admit, to the embarrassment of the film’s host Denise Crosby (Tasha Yar from The Next Generation), that cosplay plays a significant part in their sex life. Richard Kronfeld is fascinated by Trek’s fictional technology. He’s seen motoring down a road to the local Radio Shack using a homebuilt replica of the Total Life Support Unit used by Captain Pike. But the most charming example is the teenager Gabriel Köerner, who would go on to become the film’s most recognised character after Adams. Always filmed in costume, Köerner is the kind of passionate, nerdy, self-aware kid who proves to be an eloquent spokesperson. He’s the one who when his interview is interrupted by an unexpected phone call, responds with the immortal line "Peter, this is the worst time you could have called! Go away! ... ok bye."

Naturally, the Klingons take things a step further. They write sex manuals and enact their mating rituals, learn the Klingon language, and translate everything from the Bible, William Shakespeare, popular theme songs, to sports terminology. Some of them even have time to be heavily involved with charitable work. Other fans are also inspired to follow different creative paths. Köerner proudly displays the CGI models he made for a fan film being produced by his club. Filk (science fiction folk singing) gets only a brief mention. As do several female fans who read and write “slash” fiction (erotic fan fiction), though Debbie Warner is singled out as a member of an anonymous mailing list and author of “The Secret Logs of Mistress Janeway.” This is juxtaposed with a scene of Crosby showing off her personal fan art collection, which includes several risqué illustrations of Tasha and Data (played by Brent Spiner in TNG) captured in flagrante delicto.

However, the true weirdos are only mentioned in passing. There’s the guy who wants to collect James Doohan’s (Montgomery “Scotty” Scott) blood. Another who paid $40-60 to drink the “Q-Virus.” Another who wanted Ethan Phillips (Neelix from Voyager) to help him ease his way into death. Or the guy who keeps sending brochures addressed to “Star Trek.”

It’s this fixed component of amused ogling that seems to have upset fans at the time. Still, it would be a huge mistake to think that Trekkies goes out of its way to mock its subject matter. The cast and crew being interviewed consistently express awe and admiration for Trek’s enduring popularity. A recurring motif is how Trek’s progressive message has inspired a lot of people, including women and minorities. And many of the actors (though William Shatner [James Kirk] is noticeably absent) can recall positive interactions with their fans, whether they were media personalities, NASA astronauts, or most notably, a suicidal woman who was gently coaxed by Doohan to turn her life around.

What’s become more obvious since is that Trekkies blend of carnival sideshow and joyous celebration is a product of a different era. While geek culture was becoming ascendent in the 90s, it was nowhere as ubiquitous as it is today. A throwaway line from Köerner and a fansite created by superfan Anne Murphy serve as a reminders that geeks were still in the early stages of colonising the World Wide Web in 1997. As such, the film is informed by the need to expound on the nature of fandom to non-fans. Some viewers will unfortunately see these people as stupid or hopelessly deluded. But there’s a certain underdog quality that shines through. Many of the interviewees come across as erudite and cognisant of their outsider status. For the most part, they seem happy to pursue a hobby the world doesn’t get. And In our highly polarised environment where Gamergate, the backlash against Miles Morales, and other stories that serve as a reminder that sexist and racist attitudes exist within fandom, the pro-science, inclusive world view expressed in Trekkies is almost salutary, if a little earnest at times. Or as Spiner puts it “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone, Star Trek fan or not, who wasn’t peculiar…. We’re all peculiar.”

Another thing that stands out is the film’s focus on the convention as a defining characteristic of fandom. Apparently, not everyone knew back then what basically goes on during a convention. So Trekkies takes time to point out that people mingle with friends and other like-minded individuals, buy and sell a lot of merchandise, meet some of the personalities involved with the franchise, and take lots of pictures. When compared to the massive Hollywood presence seen in Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan's Hope, these conventions possess far humbler production values, and are more local in reach. Not that it stops anyone from spending thousands of dollars on, say, a genuine Klingon forehead prosthetic. But that sense of "I have found my tribe" is a constant. As one attendee speaking for herself and her friends recalls "The first convention we went to... we were all accepted. And when we left and went back home, we had to act normal again." Several Hollywood representations of fan conventions have since taken their cue from Trekkies.

While surveying a broad spectrum of modern fan pursuits, Trekkies is smart enough not to over-explain Star Trek itself. The film doesn’t go into any detail about Trek’s fictional universe, and only mentions a few of the people behind its creation. The references and technical jargon will be appreciated by the initiated. But the viewer isn’t punished for not knowing the meaning behind “The Emissary”, “saucer separation capability”, “Romulan Star Empire”, or for not caring about the never-ending debate over who is Trek’s favourite captain (thankfully, Captain Archer wasn’t in the running at the time).

One particular debate that actually hasn’t aged very well is whether fans should refer to themselves as Trekkies or Trekkers. The film’s participants express a range of opinions favouring one term over the other, but what underlies all their arguments is a wish for greater respectability. What all of them fail to recognise is how little control anyone has over the popular use of language. In an age where Internet memes are easily co-opted by an opposing side, the idea that a simple word change could alter the prevailing perception surrounding an entire subculture can feel a little naive. But then again, the same could be said of Star Trek.

50th Trek: Just a Geek

In honour of Star Trek's 50th anniversary, I'll be writing a series of posts discussing a favorite example of Star Trek related media.

Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry.

Just a Geek 
by Wil Wheaton

Former child actor Wil Wheaton once came to a fateful decision during a 1989 Star Trek cruise. After observing the apparently unhappy state of the original series cast members in attendance, he chose to leave the television show Star Trek: The Next Generation and jump start a film acting career. This looked like a good idea, when considering the circumstances. Wesley Crusher was an unpopular character often perceived by fans as a Mary Sue standing in for Gene Roddenberry. His presence on the show was greatly diminished. And Wil wasn't getting along with new executive producer Rick Berman. So it seemed like as good a time as any to jump ship and try something new. But instead of leading to bigger and better things, his acting career would stutter and then come to a complete standstill. Wil would spend the next 15 years ruing his decision to leave the legendary franchise at the height of its popularity. Two byproducts of this rocky period were a popular blog he began in 2001, and a memoir published in 2004 called Just a Geek.

Wil’s connection to TNG was initially the obvious draw when I first discovered his blog. But it soon became clear that unlike most other actor’s websites, which usually function as a vehicle for self-promotion, Wil was more than willing to discuss his many failed efforts to land an acting gig. His early blog posts often attempted to be glib about these experiences, but over time would increasingly express anger, disappointment, desperation, and self-recrimination. This is carried over into JAG. Roughly half the book’s content is material reprinted from his blog posts. But unlike most bloggers, Wil developed a true command of story structure. His best posts are typically written as well-crafted anecdotes usually conveying some kind of point, or at least an amusing punchline.

But the meat of the book is found in the original content, designed to connect the disparate blog posts into a unified narrative. Wil’s blog was often praised for its candid and personal quality. But he admits here that there’s an element of public performance to his blogging. Wil initially tries to convince himself and his audience that his career didn’t take a nosedive after he left TNG. His narcissistic inner struggle is displaced and divided into two anthropomorphized duelling voices: "Prove To Everyone That Quitting Star Trek Wasn't A Mistake” and the “The Voice of Self Doubt.” But numerous failed auditions grind down whatever optimism he once possessed, and Will begins to express frustration towards the industry. He bitterly complains about Hollywood’s preference for “edgy” actors and pursuit of all things popular. And like many has-beens, his fragile ego takes a further beating as he’s reduced to dependency on the convention circuit, desperately hawking autographs, reminding fans (and even fellow cast members he’s fallen out of touch with) that he still exists, appearing on game shows or any event that would have him, and selling personal items on eBay. That’s when he hits rock bottom and starts reconsidering whether he even still wants to be an actor.

One remedy to Wil’s downward spiral of depression and denial is his love of Star Trek. Virtually all of the book’s emotional highs are about his intermittent involvement with the Star Trek franchise. Wil’s unusual position is that he blurs the line between  celebrity and fan due to his being a lot younger than the rest of the TNG cast, a factor that inevitably colors Wil’s personal interactions with them. He’s never quite their equal in terms of experience or maturity. So he ends up playing the role of the callow youth who looks up to his smarter, wiser, and more well-adjusted colleagues. This has the benefit of making him into a POV character for the reader whenever the cast convenes at a convention, or most memorably during the filming of the wedding scene in Star Trek: Nemesis.

But Star Trek is also a source of great ambivalence, which isn't surprising given the book’s premise. Wil’s pop culture legacy already includes an internet meme sometimes called “The Wesley.” Things come to a head in a famous blog post describing Wil having an imaginary conversation with a beloved Wesley Crusher action figure. The post is included in the book to document the author finally exorcising his personal demons. It’s an uplifting story about how Wil learned to see the character he’s most known for playing in its proper perspective. But whatever inner peace Wil achieves is later shaken when he receives news that not only was all his dialogue in Nemesis left on the cutting room floor, he was also snubbed from receiving any invitation to attend the film’s premiere.

12 years after JAG was published, Wil’s informal writing style remains just as engaging. It's a precursor to the uncomplicated, chatty tone now prevalent on the Web, minus the emojis. The book makes for a quick read. But a few things also stick out. Because JAG is based on blog posts revolving around Wil’s own quest for self-validation, none of the other characters ever come into proper focus. Not even his faithful wife who puts up with a lot of his sh__. No doubt this was a decision on Wil’s part not to reveal too much about his private life. But this does mean that the reader is stuck in Wil’s head for the duration of the entire book. The effect of this myopia isn't entirely satisfactory as it can at times leave the impression that a few crucial elements might have been left out of the story.

Another source of annoyance (at least to me) is the uneven quality of Wil’s authorial voice. Wil has a habit of switching back and forth from a more flippant attitude to one that's more confessional. He isn’t afraid to being a little sentimental when he’s being serious. But then Wil tries to inject some humor, and the effect can be a little dissonant. This is especially cumbersome when he juxtaposes very juvenile and crass statements with more doleful insights. An early example in the book is when he visits a Hooters restaurant, spends time ogling the waitress and talking about her boobs, only to be reminded of his status as a failed actor. His transition from leering fratboy to morose artist can be quite awkward.

JAG was fashioned to chronicle the experiences of a struggling young actor who transitions into a writer. But 12 years on, it’s become more than apparent that the internet has facilitated a new kind of fame, one which Wil just happens to be an early manifestation. His blogging would anticipate how today’s celebrities have become heavily engaged with social media. While many of them work hard to connect with their fans, Wil has already convinced his fans that he’s just one of them. He may not have fulfilled his ambitions for the silver screen, but Wil’s newfound popularity has helped to revive his acting career. And no matter what, Wil has still managed to preserve his brand of geek identity. Only now, he’s joined during the rapidly burgeoning convention season by a new generation of web-savvy nerdlebrities such as Adam Savage, Jonathan Coulton, and Felicia Day. Wil Wheaton isn't alone.

More NonSense: Hail Hydra!

A recent reminder of the disconnect between the comic book industry and the wider world is the firestorm over the revelation that the Captain America of the comics is now a Hydra agent in Captain America: Steve Rogers #1. Many veteran readers, including myself, were inclined to treat this as just another plot point that wouldn't actually change anything in the long run. But Marvel completely failed to anticipate how offensive this could be to those people still facing anti-semitism and other kinds of prejudice, or their newly acquired mainstream audience. Then there's the risk that these arguments might get conflated with traditional fan rage.

Sean T. Collins on the moral binary found in the Game of Thrones episode The Broken Man.

Ed Brubaker remembers when Alan Moore's Watchmen was treated as a victory for creators rights.

Ronald Wimberly on why publishers should pay artists for sample pages.  Seems obvious enough on the surface. But I forget that comic books are such a marginal part of the publishing business.

With Star Trek celebrating its 50th Anniversary, it's especially terrible to hear that actor Anton Yelchin has died from what sounds like a freak automobile accident.

Ben Judkins on Chinese martial arts as a vehicle of female empowerment, and how a young Captain America cosplayer was introduced to kickboxing.

Comic-Con Album Pt 25

Cindy Freeling, Comic-Con autograph area.

Located across from the Portfolio Review Area, Comic-Con's Autograph Area is the pop culture equivalent of Artist's Alley - A motley gathering of celebrities, starlets, has-beens, and ne'er-do-wells detached from the madness of the main exhibit hall. Some of them can be very charming, such as the lovely lady pictured above. Most of the time, the atmosphere of the hall is relatively sedate.

Speaking of has-beens - I don't remember at which Comic-Con this took place at, but I once spotted Wil Wheaton when I was rushing between review sessions. These were still the lean years before Wil's tireless blogging and courting of the Web 1.0 crowd would catapult him to nerdlebrity status. This was before Nemesis. Before w00tstock. Before The Guild. Before geeks conquered the media landscape. Those days were filled with high anxiety, self-doubt, narcissistic brooding, fannish nostalgia, and a pathological disconnect as narrated with a heavy dose of self-depreciating humour in his autobiography several years later. Of course, I didn't know that at the time. To me he was just the actor formerly known as Wesley Crusher.

Wil's table was located so that he was split off from the majority of the autograph group, his table facing so that his back was turned towards them. Wil didn't have any immediate neighbours to either side of him. Well, at least I didn't see anyone when I was there. He was alone. And he looked utterly miserable just sitting there. A part of me wanted to walk up to him, say "hi", and tell him that not everyone hated him when he was on ST:TNG. But a bigger part of me felt awkward about approaching someone in such a state, felt unsure about how to reach out. I was too wrapped up in my own personal shit at the time. And I've gradually realised that I'm not the most empathic individual. Or maybe I was just paralysed by a sense of impotence to help. So I moved on to whatever it was I was currently occupied with.

An that's why I don't have a picture of Uncle Willy.

Pt 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24

R.I.P. Leonard Nimoy (1913-2015)

Photo courtesy of NASA

From Star Trek/X-Men

From "The Devil in the Dark" (Star Trek)

From "Unification" (Star Trek: The Next Generation)

From Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

Photo Courtesy of R. Michelson Galleries

Of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most human.
 - Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan

In an era when nerd heroes were still in short supply, Mr. Spock was already there. Bon voyage Leonard Nimoy. You lived and prospered.

Webcomic: Chief O'Brien at Work

Go to: City Cyclops, by Jon Adams (via Lauren Davis)

If you can teleport from anywhere on the ship, why even have a transporter room?

Star Trek: Into Darkness (2013)

Warning: This post contains major spoilers…

Let's get this out of the way first. Director J.J. Abrams spent so much time and energy denying the identity of the villain of Star Trek: Into Darkness that when it was revealed that Benedict Cumberbatch was indeed playing Khan [Noonien Singh], this seems to have engendered a bit of a backlash, judging from some of the negative reviews on the Web. I don't entirely blame Abrams for trying to keep this a secret. It's kind of a major plot twist. But once it was revealed in-movie, The Wrath of Khan references came in so thick and fast that it began to be a little distracting.

By casting Cumberbatch, TPTB have whitewashed one of the franchise's most compelling and ethnically daring casting choices. Avoiding a backlash for the whitewashing may have been another reason for keeping the villain's identity under wraps. But overall, I did enjoy Cumberbatch's performance. Instead of a charismatic, scheming warlord, nu Khan is more of a violent sociopath with a penchant for mesmerizing those around him with his intense gaze. The movie gets a lot of mileage out of that. But if the studio was going to alter Khan's racial profile, why couldn't they bother to update his origin? It's odd that in 2013 he's still a survivor of the 1990s Eugenics War exiled into space.

The opening scene kind of confused me. The Enterprise crew is trying to save the inhabitants of a planet without violating the Prime Directive (huh?) and their actions don't make much sense. Why did Captain Kirk steal something from the natives? Why did the Enterprise have to hide underwater instead of being in orbit? Why did Commander Spock have to jump into a volcano? It's kind of cool that the Prime Directive is even mentioned, though it's raised mainly as an example of why Kirk is such a reckless bastard, then quietly dropped once the story moves on to its central topic. As with Abram's first effort, off course is about Terrorism.

That terrorism is such an overwhelming concern is unsurprising coming from a major Hollywood production. It warps the traditional purpose of Star Fleet (not to mention the 60s-era progressivism underlying the franchise), and militarizes them, even more so than usual. Spock and Chief Engineer Scotty are troubled by this development and become vocal objectors. The Enterprise gets shot at more times than in all 3 seasons of the original Star Trek TV series. Downtown San Francisco is leveled in a suicide run involving a massive starship. And all the leads get to be in at least one action sequence were they're put in mortal danger. Trek fans looking for more introspective philosophical discussions might come away a little disappointed. Not that terrorism is the only contributing factor. The militarization of the Trek movie series has been going on ever since Captain Picard spent more time kicking ass than asking tough questions in The Next Generation films. The movies are designed to be spectacle aimed at pleasing the mass audience. Into Darkness is, if nothing else, gorgeous eye candy.

For what its worth the Klingons, what little we do see of them, look pretty intriguing.

Going back to The Wrath of Khan references, the film's climax is such egregious fan service that it pretty much robs it of its intended emotional impact. But it also doesn't help that nu Kirk and nu Spock don't have the easy camaraderie that comes from years of casual interaction. Maybe Kirk's self-sacrifice is consistent with his overall impetuous behavior. But Spock's anguished reaction feels strangely forced. And the less said about Kirk's ludicrously quick resurrection, the better.

While this did dampen my enthusiasm for the movie, I still consider myself well entertained. It ends with the sweet promise of a new five-year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and to boldly go where no one has gone before. Wouldn't it be wonderful if this was truly the case for Star Trek's next outing?

Video: Star Trek Alternate Title Intro

Go to Vimeo, by The Quintek Group.

"Peace and Long Life."

Star Trek/Legion of Super-Heroes #1

By Chris Roberson, Jeffrey Moy, Philip Moy, Robbie Robbins, Romulo Fajardo Jr.

I'm surprised that a crossover between the Star Trek and the Legion of Super-Heroes franchises has taken this long to organize. On one side you've got the paramilitary wing of a utopian interplanetary federation from the 23rd century, staffed by a bunch pretentious starship officers. On the other you have an exclusive clique comprised of obnoxious, peer-rejecting, super-powered teenagers hailing from all corners of a peaceful interplanetary coalition in the 30th century. How could these two organizations not totally get along?

The first issue is pretty much a setup for the kind of inter-dimensional hopping that occurred during those old JLA/JSA team-ups. The two groups start out in their respective universes before getting sucked into an evil version that amalgamates the features of both. Think of it as Mirror, Mirror meets the Keith Giffen Legion, with a dash of the Galactic Empire for extra flavor, if you're into making those kinds of geeky references. Frankly, you have to be that kind of person to enjoy this, because unfortunately, that's what mostly happens for twenty-plus pages. That's the cliffhanger. One moment, things are hunky dory. And the next, they're fighting for their lives in a dystopia without the slightest idea how they got there. The story takes its sweet time to get moving. What the reader is treated to at the beginning is several narrative-heavy pages introducing the alternate timeline, followed by the plot flipping back and forth between parallel events involving the Enterprise crew and a half-dozen Legionnaires. There's a lot of mileage gained from the storytelling device were adjacent panels/pages mirror each other visually in order to compare/contrast the two timelines. For example, the Legionnaires are first seen piloting a time-bubble en route from a mission. Then the scene shifts to James Kirk conversing with his crew on the bridge of the Enterprise as they prepare for shore leave. There's a lot of generic banter from everyone about what kind of R&R they will pursue once they reach Earth. The Legionnaires are hyper-muscular in their multi-colored spandex costumes, while the Starfleet officers are more normally proportioned in their matching cardigan sweaters. The reader gets to see the differing technological malfunctions that sends each group to different parts of the Evil-verse (which shouldn't surprise any longtime fan of either series). And the primary action sequences are comprised of both sets of our brave heroes running around like headless chickens for several pages until they turn to their respective brain-trusts for an answer. Obviously, they're Braniac 5 and Mr. Spock. That's right bitches, the nerds rule no matter what the universe.

The bottom line? A fairly uninspired debut to what looks like a by-the-numbers crossover event without a lot of impetus behind it. I can't really see this appealing to too many people outside of the usual nostalgics and completists. Younger readers would probably be better entertained finishing their Harry Potter/Edward Cullen/Percy Jackson, shonen ai fanfics.

Star Trek #1

By Mike Johnson, Stephen Molnar, John Rauch, Neil Uyetake, with Robert Orci
Based on the story written by Samuel A. Peeples

The fortunes of the Star Trek franchise have changed drastically through the years - from enjoying mainstream success in the mid-80s, to becoming almost universally dismissed (or actively reviled) during the airing of Enterprise. By the time that series ended in 2005, Star Trek's own internal continuity had become incomprehensible to most viewers, and even longtime fans. If the franchise was going to regain a modicum of its former success, most of it would have to be jettisoned. The 2009 film, simply titled Star Trek, went even further and relaunched the original series itself. The plot utilized that hoary trope of time-travel altering history. Only this time and without explanation, no one even bothered to restore things to the status quo.* But the film was less interested with getting mired in the pesky plot mechanics of time-travel, and focused instead on the breezy interplay of its re-imagined cast. This gambit worked, in part due to the overall likability of its lead actors, who managed to update the original characters without parodying them. It probably helped that Leonard Nimoy, reprising his role as arguably the series most iconic character, was there to give them, and himself, a fond send-off. Both casuals and diehards turned out in droves at the cinema.**

The film was largely praised by mainstream critics. But if you happen to share the opinions of disgruntled fans like Roger Ebert, who perceived within it a lack of philosophical introspection and scientific curiosity, then the new Star Trek comic book series from IDW is meant for you. The franchise's previous comic book adaptations were never the center of attention. But given the newly refurbished state of the Star Trek universe, the Powers That Be have decided to revisit several classic episodes from the TV series and give them the reboot treatment. For issue #1, it comes as no surprise that the story is from the network pilot episode "Where No Man Has Gone Before". It's been awhile since I've watched it, but the comic feels like a careful outlining of the differences between old and new. Most notable are the references to what characters did or didn't make it to the film. While not overly intrusive, it might seem odd to newer readers that so much word space is devoted at the beginning to who got promoted to what rank within the chain of command. A pair of characters who are pertinent to the plot come in as old friends of Captain James Kirk from his Starfleet Academy days, having never had so much as a cameo in the film. Their insertion into the crew is a reminder of the episodic structure of the source material, and this naturally makes them feel more like guest stars than members of the regular cast.

None of this poses a significant barrier to the uninitiated. But those who enjoyed the fast-paced, action adventure of the film might find the comic's pacing rather sedate. Not one phaser or photon torpedo is fired. Not once does Kirk get his ass kicked. This issue tells the first half of the story, which is a steady build-up to an inevitable showdown. This issue's panels are filled with talking heads discussing the mounting crisis at hand. Like most Star Trek comics, there's a premium placed on getting the actors' likenesses correct.This thankless job is carried out with a better than average performance by Stephen Molnar. His comparatively realistic figures contrast with the more schematic rendering of the starship interiors. It's nice to look at, if not particularly exciting.

The 2009 film carefully balanced reinvention with nostalgia. It acknowledged the franchise's history without being overly-literal with its references, only borrowing loosely from multiple sources. The comic book gifts to longtime fans by confirming that some of that history will be repeated, more or less, by bringing back specific events from the classic TV series. It's my understanding that the comic will somehow tie all this into the plot of the upcoming film sequel. Given the interchangeable nature of the original material, I wonder how much it will try to avoid, or will simply end up, chasing its own past down the rabbit hole?

___
* Usually, Captain Picard, or someone else, would have noticed something was amiss, then raced back in time to stop the film's bad guy Nero from changing the past. Sometimes it seemed that the only thing Starfleet did from the 90s onward was fly around fixing time paradoxes.

** The film could be considered a Crisis On Infinite Earths styled in-story reset that appealed to geeks. But it was also a way for everyone else to reconnect with one of popular culture's most recognizable television shows, while conveniently sidelining the rest of the franchise. After all, no one cares about Captain Archer. But who doesn't know Spock?