Thursday, March 31, 2005

I picked up and skimmed over DC Countdown to Infinite Crisis, or whatever the hell they're calling it these days, yesterday on the rack in the process of trying to decide whether I wanted to buy the thing or not. By the time I had gotten close to the end, and saw the big villain reveal, I had pretty much decided to pass, but went ahead and read the ending.

I had also typed up and posted a longish review/rant about it last night, thought I read too much like one of those notorious change-resistant aging fanboys, and deleted the post. I realize that in order not to become stagnant and dull, comics or any sort of sequential fiction has to grow and change. Fact of life. And I prefer my characters multi-dimensional and challenging, and likeability is not necessarily a requirement. But there's a right way, and there's a wrong way. Guess which one I think this is.

That sound you hear? That's Gardner Fox, John Broome, and Gil Kane spinning in their graves.

I'm also wondering- did Giffen run over Didio's dog or did DeMatteis screw his wife? What's with all the hate directed at the Bwah-ha-ha Justice League, an unworthy target if ever I saw one?

Like the horse that used to pop up in Ren & Stimpy, when you ask me what I thought, I'll say "No sir, I don't like it". And I won't be buying, either. Life goes on, and I stopped being emotionally invested in the spandex set ages ago. But that doesn't mean I can't be sad for this wrongheaded, venal direction that DC apparently feels it has to go in.

Update: Abhay over at the Pop Culture Bored at has done a magnificent dissection of this piece of crap, and I think you owe it to yourself to read it. Really I do.

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