Showing posts with label Golden Rules. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Golden Rules. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Weather Week: Metropolis



In this series, we're examining the weather in the DCU's fictionopolises (starting yesterday with Gotham City).
When I first had this idea, I thought, "I can just go through every single story set in each city to which I have access, mark down the apparent season based on visual clues, tabulate, and look for patterns!'
Then I thought, "Sh'yeah, as if!  That's a job for my fleet of post-docs."
Then I realized, "Oh, wait; I don't have a fleet of post-docs."
So, my 'analysis' of the seasonal ratios in the various DCU cities is cobbled together purely from my own recollections of stories I've read. Now, that is a fairly large sample, but perhaps my own impressions of the weather in those stories is distorted.  After all, unless the weather is part of the plot, the creators don't usually bother with making it any particular season at all.  Unless they're John Byrne. 
A lot of artists take the easy way out and have the same characters wear pretty much the same thing all the time.  For example, in the pre-Crisis DCU, Clark Kent was famous for wearing the same blue suit/red striped tie combo every day for about, oh, 40 years. 
"And I'm not coming back until YOU stop wearing those stupid public underpants and get yourself a proper mandarin collar on your shirt!"

Some of those habits stem from the origins of comic books as a medium for children thanks to The Golden Rule of Color Conservation.  It states that whenever convenient, characters should wear the same colors in their civilian identities as they wear in their superhero identities; it makes them easier for the readers to identify.  Golden Age Dick Grayson did this a lot, and Clark Kent's habit of wearing a blue suit and red tie comes from the fact that Superman wears a blue outfit with red accents, too.
Bruce Wayne: easy-going guy, good sense of humor, fun date. 

Even when the color carries no semiotic signifigance, it's just easier for artists to draw the same character the same way all the time.  Bruce Wayne wore the heck out of that nasty brown suit yellow shirt combo in Batman The Animated Series, until he swapped it out for the black suit red tie look when his eyebrows got all frowny. 
Bruce Wayne: Uptight, dour, control-freak. With tiny, tiny feet.

John Byrne is not one of those lazy artists; he's the opposite, in fact.  Sure all his people look the same, with their giant lipless frog mouths brimming with explanations of how their powers work.  But their clothes!  John Byrne believes that no one ever wears the same outfit twice.  In John Byrne's DCU, the clothes donation bins are full to bursting all the time.
Therefore, John Byrne makes the seasons change in his stories not because it is relevant to the plot, but so he can draw different clothing.  He'd have been happy as a pig in slop if he'd been working back in the day on Katy Keene.
In fact, without John Byrne, I'm not sure Metropolis would have even seen winter. The only time I can remember seeing winter in Superman’s city was when John Byrne was writing it. He really bit down hard on the idea that, "okay, sure, Metropolis is an expy for Chicago," where it's cold and windy a lot. 
Wherever Metropolis is, it’s seldom been imagined as being in the south or somewhere winterless; yet winter is almost never seen (except for, of course, an occasional Christmas story, because it’s ALWAYS snowing in Christmas stories). 
As a result, I visualize Metropolis's seasons as something like this:
Spring is definitely the season where Jimmy undergoes amazing transformations;
In Summer, Superman can often be seen loosening fire hydrants so that, say, poor hot children can play in them, endangering thousands of lives if a fire breaks outin one of their homes.
In Fall, Superman remembes he owns a superpowerful dog and take him for a romp.
In Winter, Lois Lane runs around in ridiculous runaway winterwear and Superman answers his mail at the Metropolis post office. 

Thursday, February 07, 2013

Killer Moth Week II, #4: Does a body bad

Do you know what this image is?




You do not.  But you will. And when you do the memory of it will haunt your nightmares forever.


But first, some happy business!  When last we left them, Killer Moth had just cut himself to ribbons crashing his desperately flailing limbs through a giant glass window in order to escape another Batman beatdown.

That fool!
This brings us to what I call the Golden Rule of Casual Causality. One of the characteristics of Golden Age comics is that, even though you can do “X”  a thousand times and have it produce result “Y” every time,  at some point you can do “X” and it will produce result “WTF?!”.  It's like every single thing that happens is actually one of those complex math statements where for ONE VALUE ONLY you wind up with "WTF?!" and for all other values it's just fine.    

(x3+ 4x2 +x) / (x/4-13)


Actually, this is a phenomenon in all superhero comics.  It’s just particularly egregious in Golden Age comics, because in those days child mortality was so high that writers didn’t have to concern themselves much with continuity. 
Batman and Robin, for example, break through windows pretty much daily, much to the dismay of Alfred and the delight of the Gotham glazier industry.  Honestly, I’m not sure they know any other way of entering a room.  And, of course, they are unharmed every time.

"I'd like a grande of dark roast to go!"
"Decaft or regular, sir?"
"I'M BATMAN!"
But when Killer Moth does it, it’s immediately obvious that he’ll be sliced to ribbons, even though he’s even more fully garbed than Batman (and certainly than leg-baring Robin).  Perhaps it just because, well, he’s Killer Moth.  Of course he’s going to fall miserably at something that Batman does effortlessly every day. 
Regardless, Batman reasons that at the upcoming social event for Museum Directors Who’ve Recently Lost a Fortune in Pre-Incan Moth Idols he’ll be able to spot which one is Killer Moth by looking for some sort of cuts on his person.  Because apparently these social events always end up in an ass-baring orgy, I suppose.

Tonight the part of Robin will be played by young Peter Falk.


Yes, Bruce, I agree; whenever I'm part of a group of people held personally accountable for rare and valuable historical artifacts that are stolen right from under our noses the very first thing I think is: "DINNER PARTY!"   


Stupid fop; no wonder no one ever suspects that Bruce Wayne is Batman.  It would be like finding out the Matthew McConnaughy is Batman.

Green Arrow, on the hand, I would totally believe.

Bruce, brilliant detective that he is, manages to eliminate Homer "Captain Kangaroo" Forsythe and Abel "Did someone remember to trim the crusts off my watercress sandwich?" Howe as suspects because they're not covered in cuts.  So it's down to Perry "Pickle-Ass" Winslow and Cameron "Milk, please!" Van Cleer.

"You; woman with two right hands; take my coat."
"Perry, I'm your wife!'
"Don't remind me."


Well, this being just “Frasier with more murder”,  some ridiculousness happens that causes Winslow to be covered in sharp wounds, like an attack by the non-lethal Golden Age Mr. Zsasz or an exploding quire of fine paper or hysterical empathy for DeGrassi’s Ellie Nash.

Oh, wait, no; the aforementioned ridiculousness is actually ... Killer Moth!


 "I, Killer Moth, am so clever! I cannot help admire myself, just as others do! HA! HA!"


What the hell's in those glasses? Sodium-19 on the rocks?

All those 'oops so and so is about to discover such and such's secret identity' games that Superman always played with Lois Lane?  Yeah, Batman plays those with Killer Moth.  So, Killer Moth=Lois Lane; put that in your conceptual calculator.

Once again Batman is stymied and unable to detectify whether Killer Moth is Perry Winslow or Cameron Van Cleer is Killer Moth.  Why not just punch them both in the face and see which one feels most familiar?  Anyway, all the directors sit down to have drinks after dinner and watch Winslow slowly bleed to death.


Killer Moth orders milk. M I L K.  For anyone else you'd assume that's just part of the "I'm so effete, I couldn't possibly be a caped adventurer" routine.   But Killer Moth actually IS a milksop. 

So in case you missed the implication in Howe's dialog balloon (or just nodded off while he was blathering), the PRE-INCAN MOTH IDOLS WHICH SOMEONE TRIED TO STEAL TWICE ALREADY ARE STILL NOT LOCKED UP AND THERE IS A MOTH-THEMED VILLAIN ON THE LOOSE.  No wonder there's so much crime in Gotham City; everyone there is really asking for it.  "Let's walk home from the theater through this dark alley, Mary!"  Morons.

Sure enough. while everyone is distracted because Winslow's finally bled out and keeled over, Cameron prestoes into Killer Moth to steal the remaining idols with Batman not far behind.  They catch up with him in .... the Hall of Electricity.


You did realize there would have to be giant light bulb at some point, didn't you?


By the way... one million candle power? Not as impressive as it sounds. Candles suck.

Anyway, Killer Moth shoots out the lights he can escape, and Batman has Robin turn on the giant black light bulb, just as if it's my brother's room in 1974.

"Dude; that poster looks freakin' amazing now...!"


Once again Killer Moth has escaped!  And this time without falling off or crashing through anything. 

OR HAS HE...!?!?

Because who would notice the Mothmobile in a swanky suburb?

"No, wait, the mask is attached to my eyeballs and---AAAAAIIEEEEEEE!"


Batman had already deduced who Killer Moth was! But HOW?!  


Because SCIENCE!

Science... and MILK.




Yes, folks, those are, in fact:

THE GLOWING LIPS OF KILLER MOTH


Sleep well tonight.

Starro's baby portrait, courtesy of Tad Williams.