The New DCU: August 31, 2011 - A Simulblog

The following is a simulblog with Chad P. of Political Jesus, Josh Toulouse of Fat Train, and Arthur of Arthur the Lesser. You ought to be forewarned: there will be spoilers.

Chad's article, "Savage Nerdery: The New Genesis of DC Comics, A Simulblog," can be found here.

Josh's article, "The New DCU: August 31, 2011, A Simulblog," can be found here.

And Arthur's article, "Why I Can't Simulblog," can be found here.

In the scheme of things, I don't know much about the old DC universe. And maybe that means that this new DCU was created for me. As a matter of fact, if it weren't for the influence of Josh Toulouse, Arthur, Amy Bolan and Chad P., I'd probably still be shouting out, "Make mine Marvel" and reading every single X-Men-based comic since 1963. (I've made it all the way to the last months of 1988. That's 25 years of comics.) Since I'm not exactly the oldest supporter of DC comics, I thought I'd lay it all out for you. I've read select Batman stories from 1987's Batman: Year One to 1993's Batman: Knightfall, select Green Lantern stories from the destruction of Coast City in the 1990s to the last few comics before Blackest Night, some stand-alone stories like Elseworld Batman tales and All-Star Superman, and I've been present for several conversations regarding the DCU. The only thing I know about Flash or Wonder Woman is what I learn in cross-overs like Final Crisis. I am a noob to the DCU, and this is the perspective that I am bringing to this simulblog series.

I believe that it is significant that Justice League #1 is the first comic book to be released in the new DCU. With a release date of August 31, 2011, it is the only comic book of the new 52 that doesn't have a September release. Furthermore, its permanent spot on the release schedule is the third week, with Justice League #2 coming out on October 19, 2011. Justice League's September release came out almost a full month early. I think this points to one of the most interesting architectural changes the DCU has ever seen. Whereas the original DCU began with independent heroes isolated to their particular city and acting out independent stories with independent sets of villains only to be brought together somewhat awkwardly a couple decades later, the new DCU begins with unity. The old DCU set up its borders, whereas the new DCU begins with heroes crossing borders. Justice League #1 begins with the Green Lantern of Coast City crossing into Batman's Gotham City and it ends with both heroes crossing into Superman's Metropolis. Hal Jordan comments that the entire space sector belongs to him, but his concept of dominion is soon changed when Superman knocks him flat on his butt.

This serves as a good segue-way into a discussion of who's who in the Justice League, and what the purpose and effect of the Justice League will be in the new DCU. Already we've met Batman, Green Lantern, and Superman. (Since these three are the main characters of the first issue, does this mean that the Big Three of the old DCU, Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman, are about to be overthrown?) Batman is somewhat insular and brainy, and when he meets Hal Jordan he almost seems as if he's something of a socially inept geek. Of course, he wows Green Lantern by his crime-fighting prowess despite his lack of super powers. Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern, is incredibly over-confident, and it seems clear that he has yet to be knocked down a few pegs by a truly good villain (or by Superman). Batman makes it clear that if he keeps shining his light everywhere he's going to get people killed. Some things never change. Superman is perceived as a rogue alien from Metropolis, and despite the confidence of both Batman and Green Lantern it seems to me that the two heroes are merely covering over the fact that they're kind of terrified of this Kryptonian powerhouse.

The first words that Geoff Johns writes in Justice League #1 are: "There was a time when the world didn't call them its greatest super heroes. There was a time when the world didn't know what a super-hero was." Clearly, by "them" Johns intends to name the Justice League. One is lead to believe that the time when the world didn't value or know of super-heroes includes the events of this issue, which happened five years ago. Not only were the members of the Justice League unknown; they were downright feared. The first part of the story features the Gotham City Police Department indiscriminately firing upon both Batman and the alien that he is chasing (and later Green Lantern). One officer communicates over the radio, "Is it one of them?" and is answered, "The way they're leaping twenty feet at a time? I'd say yes." This leads one to believe that the humans are scared of what in the old DCU would be called metas, individuals with super powers. (Ironically, the GCPD considers Batman "one of them," a meta.) The second part of the story features a Superman who may not stand for truth, justice and the American way, who may not have taken to heart all the simple country values of his Smallville origin and the responsibility that his powers entail. This may just be a self-serving Superman, and he may just be the reason why the world is up in arms against metas. Of course, this is only the state of events from five years ago, a dark period in the history of the new DCU perhaps, but in this same opening we are given hope. Johns suggests that the Justice League will become the greatest heroes, and perhaps just as importantly, the world will recognize them as such.

On the surface it appears that Darkseid is going to be the villain who unites the Justice League and allows them to rise to their rightful place in the new DCU. The alien that Batman tracked through his detective skills and that Green Lantern tracked with the alien-detecting device known as his Green Lantern power ring mentioned the villain before self-detonating. The alien that it took both Batman and Green Lantern to defeat was merely a minion of a higher power, the power of Darkseid. Darkseid and his army of followers are certainly a big enough threat to require the combined power of the world's heroes. Of course, this would be too simple. When the heroes duke it out in Metropolis, they do so in a demolition zone, a site that is being prepared for Lexcorp construction. The sign promises that Lexcorp is "building the city of tomorrow today." An astute reader will notice this and wonder if Lex Luthor is the true villain behind the events that will assemble the Justice League. Of course, this is a new universe: perhaps Lex Luthor is to the Justice League what Professor Charles Xavier is to the X-Men in the Marvel Universe (or what Nick Fury is to the Avengers in the Marvel Cinematic Universe).

Overall, the new DCU appears to be focusing on subtle storytelling rather than flashy new adventures. Of course, that may just be Geoff Johns, but with Justice League as the flagship comic book, it would seem that other writers will be pushed to do the same with their titles. Not only will the new DCU be populated with new and interesting takes on characters, but it appears that a large span of time will be populated with new and interesting takes on the stories that these characters enact. Already, we have a look at what the world looks like five years ago in Justice League #1. I think we can assume that some titles will start their stories now whereas other titles might plunge back even further. We have met Batman, Green Lantern, and Superman, but we don't know how they come to be heroes. I'm not 100% certain where Johns is going with the Victor Stone/Cyborg story, but it seems interesting. It looks to me like Vic's father is spending all of his time studying metas so that his football playing son might some day walk among them as an equal. Of course, there's always that chance that Vic Stone might be transformed into Cyborg as a means of humanity fighting against the metas. Oh, and I'm sure that we'll see Wonder Woman, Aquaman and Flash at some point, too. After all, they are on the cover...

Next week, I intend to read every single new release. That means I will be reading Action Comics #1 (with Grant Morrison!), Animal Man #1, Batgirl #1 (I'm really interested to see how this one plays out), Batwing #1, Detective Comics #1, Green Arrow #1, Hawk and Dove #1, Justice League International #1, Men of War #1, O.M.A.C. #1, Static Shock #1, Storm Watch #1, and Swamp Thing #1. Of course, since I don't believe I could possibly read every DC comic for the rest of my life, I'll probably start crossing comics off the list if they don't interest me as much. Until then, however, read Chad P.'s article, "Savage Nerdery," Josh Toulouse's article, "The New DCU," and Arthur's article, "Why I Can't Simulblog."  And don't forget to leave your own opinion on the new DCU.

Interpreting Modern Love: A Simulblog

The following blog post is a simulblog. Chad P of Political Jesus and I decided to both write our interpretation of the song "Modern Love" by David Bowie. His blog, also titled "Interpreting Modern Love: A Simulblog" can be read here. Any similarities between these posts are strictly the result of the same likemindedness that has fueled the friendship between Chad and myself. I will not see Chad's blog until both blogs are finished and published, and Chad will not see mine.

I was really excited when Chad suggested that we write a simulblog about the David Bowie song "Modern Love." First of all, I think we all have to agree that David Bowie is fantastic. Second of all, there's a sense of continuity in thought between the various works of David Bowie over the year, something of a constructive understanding of the universe. Third of all, I understand that Cavemen Go is only as good as the community that surrounds it, and a simulblog such as this is, in and of itself, an act of community.

Just by looking at the title "Modern Love," I get an impression of what this song means. David Bowie is reflecting on what he thinks love looks like here and now, or there and then, considering the song was released in 1983. (I was born in 1982, so I guess David Bowie is ruminating about what love looked like circa the time when my parents were constructing a family. I suppose I'm more connected to this question than I had originally imagined.) The song is qualified, however - the song is not titled "Love," but "Modern Love." It is love situated in a particular place and time. This, of course, makes me wonder where we find David Bowie's vantage point regarding "Modern Love." Does he consider himself part of this modernism? Or does he find himself as something of a pre-modernist or post-modernist?

I've written a couple of similar blogs under the column heading of "Pop Deconstruction," and I'm sure that there are those among you who would assume that I will lump David Bowie in the same camp with me, a postmodern kind of iconoclastic individual, simply because I love David Bowie and I want something in common with him. I believe that you would be correct with the assertion, but only superficially. I believe that I am motivated more by an understanding of the works of David Bowie than by my need to think of us as alike. Let me be a little less vague and say it straight: David Bowie's "Modern Love" is a description of the face of modern love from the critical and also self-critical perspective of a post-modern thinker.

Much of "Modern Love" describes a bland day-in/day-out habitual existence. The spoken first words say, "I know when to go out and when to stay in. Get things done." This line screams of the gospel of American Protestant productivity. (Is this an American song, then? David Bowie is British, but the album was recorded at the Power Station in New York in 1982.) Follow rules. Stay productive. Earn money. Give a tenth of it to the church, and show up for Sunday service. This is your duty to "God and man." But is there not also a hint of the first wave of the over-medicated American lifestyle? Bowie sings, "I catch the paper boy, but things don't really change. I'm standing in the wind, but I never wave bye-bye." The protagonist feels isolated and powerless, incapable of reaching out and making a real connection with another individual, passionless. He drinks too much coffee in the morning, his way of giving into the unbearable monotony of existence, buttressed by anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications, perhaps cholesterol medicine as well, and then whiskey and sleeping pills to prevent insomnia. Our protagonist is a zombie. "There's no sign of life."

The chorus of "Modern Love" is potentially heretical. It seems, at this point, like David Bowie himself is describing his response to this kind of thoughtless, passionless existence. He says that he will never fall for modern love, which "walks beside" him and "walks on by" him, his only purpose to get "to the church on time." The gospel of "Modern Love" is a gospel of unfeeling obedience in hope of some sort of salvation. All of life passes the modern individual by, because all this individual is concerned with is getting to church on time. The idea of life as getting to church on time seems to terrify Bowie. It makes him party, makes him revolt against this sheepish behavior which masquerades itself as the highest good for humankind. Regarding putting ones trust in sluggish humankind and the God that supports this type of living, Bowie continues to revolt. He despises confessions and he despises the religion that enslaves and essentially destroys the heart. His final verdict: He doesn't believe in modern love.

Much of the American Christian public would just ignore David Bowie as an atheist, an unbeliever. Is there truly no religion for Bowie? Is there truly no belief? I think many would rather focus on the fact that Bowie's beliefs are not orthodox, and ignore the truly fruitful question: What are Bowie's beliefs? Much of Bowie's works of the previous decade (the 1970s), showed a strong religious and almost messianic dimension. The song "Starman" from the album The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars paints a picture of some divine being who wants to enter into a relationship with humankind, who does not shun passion and sexuality, but incorporates it into the religious experience. The Jewish and Christian scriptures speak of a God who created humankind, but Bowie pushes us to prove that there is life on this planet. In songs like "Life on Mars?" from my personal favorite Bowie album, 1971's Hunky Dory the question, "Is there life on Mars?" should almost certainly be read, "Is there life on Earth, the kind of life that is worth saving?" The descriptions of sailors fighting in the dance hall and lawmen beating up the wrong people suggest that there is not.

If you ask me, a religious person myself, I think that Bowie's criticism of "Modern Love" is not impossible to incorporate into the life of a religious individual. One need not kill the religious impulse in order to be a postmodern, critical individual. Certainly, his criticism is harsh, making it difficult to bow, to follow doctrine, scripture and tradition, to be a loyal and obedient sheep. But is a sheep really a good model for religious individuals, particularly Christians, to follow? The creativity that Bowie admires and elevates on Hunky Dory offers a positive answer to the negative criticism of "Modern Love." Who could ever imagine a creator God without the power of creativity? Who could ever imagine a humankind cast in such a God's image without the power of creativity? David Bowie challenges us to look to individuals like Andy Warhol ("Andy Warhol") and Bob Dylan ("Song for Bob Dylan"), to reinvent ourselves and the world around us. And what better models could we take. If you do happen to get to church on time, perhaps you'll learn about an individual named Jesus who is called the Christ or the messiah, an individual who was anything but a sheep, whose creativity, for better or worse, changed the entire world.

What is the answer to "Modern Love"? Post-modern love, a love that shuns neither passion nor sexuality, that appears in different forms in different people, that values creativity, and thoughtful retooling of existence. Was it Jesus or P-Funk who once said, "The kingdom of heaven is within"? (Trick question. Some version of this statement has been said by both parties at various times.) If the highest command of "Modern Love" is to get to the church on time, then we have clearly missed the point. When you get to that church, you'll be the same passionless individual who is so incapable that he cannot even wave to the paperboy as he passes by, who can neither connect with a person nor a personal God. David Bowie's postmodern love prepares us for life-changing relationships, and casts us as interesting and original individuals, the "Golden Ones" of "Oh! You Pretty Things," rather than mindless sheep following a shepherd because we're not smart enough to do anything else. If the kingdom of heaven is within, then the tools of a strong heart and mind and the ability to enter into a relationship with the divine are how you get there.

As for me, I'm with Bowie. I don't believe in modern love either. I do believe that the song "Modern Love" is a fantastic and thoughtful song. I think it might be time for me to find out what Chad thinks. Come join me.

Cavemengo Anecdotes - Chad P

It is said that in our culture that we don't really turn to the internet in order to learn new things and have our worldviews stretched. Instead, en masse, we turn to the internet to find the websites that bolster our already firmly held, but frail belief systems. Well, that is too bad for me. There is no place on the internet that will validate my ugly, chaotic, beautiful, hopeful way of looking at things.

There is no place on the internet that reveals your slightly embarrassing crush on Phil Collins while giving unintentional passive assent to "might makes right" by holding up Arnold Schwarzenegger as a God (specifically Hercules)? There isn't a place you can find a good discussion about video-games as an art form in the same breath with which traditional art forms are lifted up and appreciated. No place I can go where Led Zeppelin sits comfortably aside an exposition of Brad Metzger's Satellite Justice League drama. All of those random things you think about while watching movies blendered with off kilter analysis of the actors that played in them? nope. And the ambivalence of war alongside Purple Rain? Fuggetaboutit.

So there you have it. I am without... what? Cavemen Go? Crap. Don't you hate when you are proven wrong?

In this case, I actually don't